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Visions of Silver Halls
“Alright, guys, that’s enough-” Lukas waved everyone down from their side conversations, focusing instead on the initial primary objective, “Gil, you’ve gotta wake up.”
Lukas, of course, was the first by his side, shaking his old friend by the shoulder with only a light urgency. He didn’t want to jostle him too badly, but time wasn’t something they had much of, anymore. Gil wasn’t responding much, only groaning faintly with the shakes. It was a gamble- Trying to wake him up without startling him in some way was going to be like playing Operation blindfolded, and it’ll only get harder with the amount of force that’s being used. 
“Maybe we could stick beef jerky under his nose,” Axel offered up. It’s difficult to tell if he’s just joking, or if it's a genuine suggestion. “It always works for me.” 
“Come on, Axel..”
“I’m serious!” Ah, it must’ve been genuine. “It’s strong! You try sleeping through that smell.” 
“We don’t have any beef jerky; We’re not at the agency anymore, man,” Jesse shrugged. 
“Tickle his eyelashes?” Olivia suggested. “If he doesn’t wake up, his body sure will.” 
“Guys-” Lukas started to interrupt and gather the party's thoughts again, but an agitated groan from the bed halted everyone’s suggestions, 
“Guys.” Gil, waking before the group could initiate any of their plans, moved his hand from where it rested over the covers to his forehead, rubbing between his eyebrows with his palm. “What’s goin' on?” 
“Oh.” Axel and Olivia spoke simultaneously, almost in mild disappointment. Axel continued on in a mumble, under his breath, “Well, that was easy…” 
“Gil, it’s good to see you awake-” Lukas jumped quickly on the alert, helping his friend sit up and keeping a gentle support to his back. 
“And not screaming, for once,” Jesse added. 
“Yes.. How are you feeling?” 
While Gil gathered his thoughts, Lukas whispered to Olivia to fetch a glass of water; she nodded and quickly left the room, letting the door shut behind her. Gil hadn’t been awake very long for most of the week- Any time he could, he needed to keep hydrated. 
“Like hell…” Gil only replied in a deep grumble. “You all’s talkin’ pulled me out of another- I don’t know.. Nightmare, I guess, but I’m not sure anymore.” 
“Yeah, neither am I. Do you remember anything about it?”
“Almost everything, when my head’s not pounding.."
"Good, that's good news… I need you to describe it. In as much detail as you can. What did you see?" 
Gil took a moment to think… All of his nightmares became a sort of clash of images over time, combining into a flurry of emotion and color and noise. He tried not to think about all of it, only part of it, the recent parts. He started with what he was just seeing, before being pulled from slumber, 
"I… Remember silver. Chrome. Silver walls with- Purple screens and purple stripes. I remember seeing my hands, but they weren't mine. They were darker, dirtier.. Still wrinkled from- From water, maybe. Yet dry, despite it. I held a weapon, a gun; it was silver, I remember…" 
Lukas raised his eyebrows a bit, waiting, and slowly beginning to realize how right he may have been. 
"Voices. I remember voices. And people. Not many, but they were there. Two voices. Talking about some kind of trip… I remember- PAMA was mentioned, and the U-boat, and.. Something about us. Someone came down the hallway, someone else left. It was easy to hear; these hallways were practically empty. I saw others like me, holding weapons and standing unmoving at posts, but none in this last dream. I think I was somewhere else… And I saw my reflection, once, but- It wasn't really mine, at all. It didn't look anything like me, but- for some reason, I knew him. Brown hair, tan skin, and his eyes- His eyes. How could I have forgotten? PAMA." 
Lukas sighed, letting his head dip a bit once Gil made it to the end in mild dread. Gil's voice only fell off as he pressed his palm to the bridge of his nose. Dread was all that hung over the room, for a moment, and why wouldn't it? Their knowledge of PAMA was limited; all they knew was that it invades and controls the minds of its hosts, and sometimes, it didn't need to be turned on to have already invaded. They didn't know where it was located, they didn't know how it worked, or how to rid themselves of it. PAMA was a wildcard, and a wildcard in war is nothing but dangerous, especially if held by the enemy. 
"I was right.." Lukas cut through the nervous silence first. "Gil, this could be very bad. You could still be- Somehow connected to PAMA.. But I don't think the Witherstorm knows that you can see it, so we also might have a huge advantage. Otherwise, they would've done something about it, right? I need you to keep remembering. Anything about that conversation; where they're going, when they're leaving, how long, for what purpose? Anything at all, we need to know." Lukas punctuated his conversation with Gil by giving him a pat on the shoulder, and then quickly turned to Jesse. "I'm going to start scrambling the team. Whatever this trip is, it's happening soon, and we need to be ready to move."
"Wh-” Jesse stammered, double-taking over his shoulder as Lukas got up to leave, “What are you planning on doing, exactly?" 
"We're intercepting. I'm readying the Terminal. Be ready.”
"Well, this could be a problem, putting it as lightly as possible."
Ranger was sitting cross-legged on his bed beside his bags, laptop on his lap. Orion was still helping sort things out while Ranger did a last deep dive into the PAMA system to check for last minute errors. Low and behold, he found one- Quite an anomaly compared to the ones he was used to. This PAMA trip was becoming more and more vital by the second. 
Orion glanced up from the dresser to acknowledge him; he’d just finished folding a black turtleneck sweater and tucking it away with the rest of the similarly color-coded clothing. He tilted his head a bit, as if to ask what was wrong. 
“Look.” Ranger flipped the laptop around to face Orion, and he shut the dresser drawer and stepped over to examine it. Ranger pointed over the edge of the screen to one of the subject numbers, which looked relatively normal, if not for the red flaring speck in the midst of it. It looked like it was throbbing, inflamed, almost like an infection of some kind. “I thought I saw something like this earlier, but- Now it’s just sticking around.” 
Orion watched the red spot, wrinkling his nose a bit in miniscule disgust. The infection was part of P-00-01: the very first agent chipped into the PAMA system. Nine years ago, PAMA was completed; Orion was delicate enough to not waste any human lives on tests… The first soldier connected to the mainframe was a complete success, and had been under since that very day. Every soldier after was equally as successful. Matter of fact, that same soldier was there at that very moment, posted guard outside of the door. Freshly rescued from capture.
“Do you know what it is?” Ranger asked after giving Orion a minute to process. 
Orion simply narrowed his eyes. 
Just outside of the door, in the hallway, a shout and clatter interrupted the brothers’ ‘conversation.’ Ranger snapped the laptop shut in surprise, while Orion quickly straightened and went instantly to the door. He slid it open, nearly getting his fingers caught in the slot in his hurry, and to the right of the door, the Hacked guard that was stationed there was crumpled to the floor. His weapon was in the middle of the floor, and his hands were occupied, clutching at his skull in what appeared to be anguish. 
Orion found himself surprised. There had been occasional fits like this before in Hacked soldiers, but never something so severe as whatever this appeared to be. Such fits were also caused by something foreseeable, like a minor glitch in the system caused by the consciousness of Hacked basically bumping into each other. They would shut down, in a way, but only for a moment… 
This soldier was very conscious, very awake, no sign of such a glitch. This was something new. 
While Orion looked on in mild horror and Ranger joined him at his side, Trevor was next to join them; he was followed closely by Lukas, who came around the corner in an equal panic. Trevor skid to a stop behind Orion so quickly that he nearly slipped on the slick metal floor, finding himself left as speechless as the leader. 
“What happened?” Lukas was the first to speak up, joining the rest of the Witherstorm. “Is everyone-” Finally, his eyes caught up with his brain, and he fell silent at the sight of the soldier on his knees. 
Aiden. 
He was groaning, and tremors wracked at his body. Lukas had almost gotten used to seeing him around, he’d almost gotten used to seeing how hollow he appeared, those empty expressions and empty eyes– He wasn’t at all prepared to see that emptiness disappear. Not nearly so violently as this, either. 
Ranger, still carrying his laptop close to his chest, flung it back open to check the status from before. Now, the red had changed; it’s spread, like the infection it appeared to be before, and Aiden’s subject number was… Broken. Pixels had glitched away from it, like it was fading. A different number was peaking through, one Ranger hadn’t actually seen before. The only number he could make out was a vague ‘6.’ A rogue soldier, a mystery consciousness- This could be bad.
“Leader, look-” He shoved the laptop over to Orion, who finally turned his gaze away from Aiden to examine it. “I think there’s a second consciousness- Somehow, I don’t know how it happened. I think it’s trying to take the front seat. I don’t know how it’s possible- PAMA wasn’t programmed for that, it’s not- His brain can’t take something like that for long.” 
Orion didn’t move to answer. Aiden was still crippled, blood from his nose had blotted the floor, his condition only looked to be getting worse. When Orion finally moved, it was to reach down and lift Aiden’s discarded silver firearm from the floor and position it securely in his arms. He wasn’t hesitating. A lift of the weapon and the barrel was pointed directly to Aiden’s skull. Orion pulled the trigger and- 
The bullet hit the floor to the left of him, missing Aiden entirely. He didn’t do that- Shocked, Orion turned to face the owner of the hands that had yanked the barrel aside so quickly. He wasn’t necessarily surprised to see Lukas, glowering at him as though he’d just kicked a dog. 
“You were just going to kill him? Just like that?” Lukas, understandably, didn’t take too kindly to the situation. Orion narrowed his eyes and quirked an eyebrow at him, before slowly handing the weapon aside to Ranger. 
“He could compromise everything,” Orion explained, slowly, putting emphasis on the last word with a more urgent sign. “A liability we cannot have.” 
“We don’t have to just kill him,” Lukas argued without hesitation. 
Orion’s expression didn’t change much, staying firm, and Lukas’s hardened further in return. Tension hung for a moment in the air, and the twins wilted back a bit from the minor face-off.
“Why prolong this? His brain will melt. Two consciousnesses will kill him.” Orion continued to sign. 
“Then let’s try and fix him.” Lukas was urgent, but Orion couldn’t fathom why. It was likely that Lukas must have known him, as he did the Jesse in this world. Perhaps it was jarring. Orion could understand that- Despite everything other than his heart reminding him how illogical that would be.
Hesitation, followed by the leader dropping his gaze to the floor, as though he were thinking. While silence, only pierced by Aiden’s continuous groans, hung heavy over the group for a moment, Trevor was the next to cut through. 
“He’s right, Leader.” Orion turned his gaze back up quickly as Trevor stepped closer. “We can fix it- Ranger is going to PAMA tomorrow morning. When he gets there, he can delete the other consciousness from the coding, and that should solve the problem.” 
After another short moment of thought, Orion took the weapon from Ranger’s hold once Trevor had finished talking and stepped closer to the crippled soldier. He raised it again, aggression in his stance- 
“Orion, wait!” Lukas’s desperate shout was punctuated as he reached out quickly in an attempt to stop him. 
But Orion’s fingers didn’t touch the trigger; instead, he gave it a harsh twist, and the butt of the weapon collided with the back of Aiden’s head. There was a harsh crack, and Aiden’s face hit the metal floor. His groans and tremors ceased instantly, leaving him dead unconscious. With a quirked brow, Orion glanced back at his brothers with the same quirked brow; Lukas only stood there, slowly lowering his hand and settling his anxiety. He’d nearly tackled him… Which would have been bad. 
Orion tried to appear unbothered by the group's prepared horror, and let the weapon slip from his hands and clatter to the floor. 
“It was that, or kill him. Others could be listening.” 
With that, Orion reached down, hoisted up the unconscious soldier’s body without much effort, and slung him over his shoulder. He didn’t address them again, only stalking off with Aiden towards the infirmary. 
Ranger and Trevor exchanged an equally as concerned glance… Orion was extremely quick on the draw. Of course, that was natural for him, it has been for their whole lives, but for the first time- They weren’t sure they felt entirely settled about it. 
“Aaagh-!” 
For the past ten minutes, Gil had been in a disastrous state, jerking, shouting, gripping at his head. The nosebleed he’d earned from the stress dirtied his white shirt and left dark, heavy stains blotted onto his chest. Both Axel and Jesse were holding him still, keeping him in the bed, trying to wait out the attack- This was the longest it had ever lasted. 
And then finally, abruptly, it came to a sudden halt. 
Gil fell unconscious in less than a second, like he’d been unwillingly shut down by some outside force. The group took a minute to recuperate, trying to steady their pulses and try and get a read on what just happened. 
“There’s never been an attack that long, before…” Olivia started. 
“Should we get Lukas? I don’t know if anyone can move, with Gil like this,” Jesse breathed. “He’s really starting to hurt. Look at this bleeding- I don’t know if his brain can handle the pressure.”
“I think that’s a good idea. We already got the information we needed, be it vague or not- We should turn focus to getting him out of it, now, instead of asking more.” 
“Right… The minute he tried to dig deeper, we didn’t get anything, and he just got wailed on by some malevolent, incorporeal force. This is a bad idea..” 
When Aiden woke up, he… Didn’t recognize his surroundings. Whilst he was used to an empty mind-space of void and silence, this time, he awoke on the rough, beige carpet of a dorm. It felt real, but he knew it couldn’t be. 
Groggy, he slowly pushed himself up with his palms. A good look around the room brought his attention to just how- well, familiar, it looked. It was small, compact with not much furniture, only a few deep blue cots and a small metal folding table set up in one of the corners of the room. The walls shared the same color as a floor with a grayer, worn haze. There were no windows, no posters, and only one bullet-gray, metal door. The cot he’d woken up beside was the only one undone, like he’d fallen out of bed… Like he’d had some kind of nightmare, like a little kid. 
Now that he was starting to come to, he was starting to feel things. Notice things. His skin felt like it was waking up for the first time in a long time, prickly with pins and needles and chilled. Not to mention, his face was warm, and his fingertips were cold- He felt alive, or more like he was beginning to live again, after years of being gone. A heat above his lip caught his attention, and he moved his fingers quickly to his nose; he was startled, disturbed, even, to be met with deep red spots coating their tips and glistening in the faint light as he moved them away. Since when did he bleed? And what was causing it?
His hazy, mystified thoughts were interrupted by a sound that came from the other side of the door; confused groaning and what sounded like the metallic squeal of a door opening in the distance. This mind-space shouldn’t have had more than one room- Not in Aiden’s head.
The idea that Aiden wasn’t alone was even more jarring than the rest of the situation, but, as was his way, he wasted no time before making his way to the door and pushing it open. 
He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but the sight of another person at the end of the hallway was… Not it. The figure was hunched over, holding a hand to his face. Aiden listened closely, on guard, and could hear the man’s mumbling and a faint tapping of drops of a thick liquid onto the now concrete grounds… Aiden didn’t remember the last time he had to listen closely to anything. He forgot how good he was at it. 
When the man noticed Aiden on his end of the hallway, he lifted his head in a sort of surprise. His face was covered by the shadow at the end of the hall, and Aiden couldn’t make out his appearance, or his expression. He squinted and stepped forward; whatever strength he was used to missing, it was making its way back very quickly here. 
“Who are you?” He snapped, breaking through the hollow silence of the hallway. “Where are we?”
The mystery man didn’t answer, for a moment. He only scanned the area around him, slowly taking everything in. 
“I know this place,” he rasped out, eventually. “These are my old barracks.” 
“Your old barracks?”
“Yeah, before.. Before the Witherstorm. Maya stayed here, with me. This was my door.” The man put a hand to the metal entrance to the room he appeared to have come from. 
Aiden was surprised, but didn’t let his defense fall. 
“These were my barracks, I stayed here.” He gestured to his own door, getting the man’s attention again. 
“Wait a minute…” The man stepped closer, and continued to move closer than Aiden would have liked. 
“Back off,” he growled, putting a hand up defensively. 
“Hang on… I’ve seen you before.”
Aiden blinked, surprised, and thoroughly creeped out. He didn’t lower his hand, but didn’t bother looking for a way out. If he needed to, he’d fight his way out. Tentatively, he finally continued,
“How?”
“In a reflection. And in these barracks. Your squad was mine, too. Maya, Magnus, Gabriel-”
“Ellegaard, Soren..” Aiden finished, his voice growing more gentle as he recalled the names. “The Order. And you-” The other man finally came into visible light. His face was streaked with blood from the nose, much like his own, and his face- Familiar, as he was starting to expect. It took him a moment to settle, but the appearance couldn’t be argued with. “Gil… I know you, but- How? How are you here? I’ve been gone for so long, I shouldn’t be-” 
“I don’t know,” Gil interrupted, sounding equally as confused, and equally as worried. “I think I’m connected to PAMA, somehow, but not fully there,” he tried to find a way to explain, but even saying it out loud started to befuddle him even more. He wiped at his nose, but the blood was quickly replaced by more… The stress on their brains must’ve been awful, but it was necessary. 
“You’re in my head..” Aiden lowered his gaze. No wonder they were here. Gil’s memory must be still intact, so they found a common ground. 
“I think so.” Gil nodded. 
“And so- Where does that leave us?”
“In a lot of danger, if this is anything to go by,” his old friend gruffed and lifted his wrist, displaying the blood that coated it. “But… I can assume you know things about PAMA, and about the Witherstorm, right?”
Aiden winced, and dipped his head, almost in hidden shame.
“Yes. I’ve seen everything from these past years… I know.”
“I’m with a group that can help. They’re trying to stop the Witherstorm, but they’re too elusive to get any intel on in this radioactive hell triangle- And I don’t think it’ll take them very long to figure out what’s going on and get rid of me. This could be our only way in. This accident- Maybe it wasn’t such an accident after all. We can win.” 
Aiden’s gaze reached Gil’s, widened, with more life in them then he ever expected there to be; the idea of freedom, the idea of bringing down these terrorists, these monsters- They imbued him with a determination to finish this, once and for all. Forever. For good. 
“What do you need to know? And how can I help?”
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warthoong · 2 years
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I have a headcanon. the reason why Gil-Galad lived so long is, he was fighting with the spear. swords may look noble but we all know that swords are made for stabbing. if there's a sword in a stabbing distance, it will stab you, so if you don't wanna be stabbed, use different weapons, those that would let you keep the safe distance. those weapons are bows and spears. bows are good, bows are useful, Beleg survived Nirnaeth Arnoediad, and he was using a bow(he was killed with the sword tho, so DON'T GET CLOSE TO SWORDS). but spears... ohhh spears are extremely girlboss. so good job Gil-Galad, you learned your less- where did this man with fiery hands come from?!!!
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lesbiantvfish · 2 months
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Ok 😄 so encouraging people to not perpetuate the writings/art that led my assaulter to get fixated on pedophilia/incest is authoritarian, got it *blasting these guys slopping up this post with lasers because you are somehow evil Beyond Reason?*
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aurivore · 2 years
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"let me tell you a sad story....." clownkuno said, as she began to tell him a sad story. "A girl and a boy were driving a car. Suddenly the boy stopped the car and asked the girl to step out of the vehide, without any explanation. The girl got pissed, removed all her facebooks and ripped all the photos. The next day the girl heard that the boy had died, as he had driven into a wall The boy had noticed that there was a wall infront of them, had stopped the car, and saved the girls life, before he had driven into the wall."
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"it is a sad story...." clownkuno cries a single tear of sadness from the sad story. it is only one (1) tear because clownkuno has cried over this story many times because (plot twist alert) she is actually the girl from the story...........
Let the court records show that the King is in great abdominal pain. 
     An-Kala, a scribe born and reared in the Godly Ages, might rightly consider himself inured to occurrences that possessed a greater magnitude of mysticism and its upheavals than his descendants further down the chronological chain might avow in any lustrum of their lives. If Cataclysm peddled wares, the man would hush it by glance and strike of his own inventory. Listen well, he might edify with the grain of a sophist, and had he fancied it capable of high ideas; The firmament could tear seven times and resunder eight, the Earth could roar with hankering ululations for want and slake of its abyssal imago, bovines could make stellar victualage of the horizon, and he would still ready his clay come morning and archive them come evening. And the same could be declared of the oarsman, the bricklayer, the potter, the bard. These were external phenomena which An-Kala held in conscious operation, paddocked in so stringent a mental capture and concord of understanding, and if by some measure there was no reconciliation between thought and what was observed in its discourse, then one would be found, whether by writer or he who reads, at the wedged end of his reed stylus, in the scribed face of his clay. What force, as though with the vengeance of the southern wind to shill our boats, could imperil the firm construct of understanding which had thus weathered the tempests of obstruction? 
Yet this, This eluded him. 
     This, which smacked An-Kala by the stem of his brain and beguiled him about the eyes, apprised him that his construct had instead the constitution of a house of thin reeds pirouetting on the scuds of a gorging marsh. He beholds it and knows it to be true, for he had always held certainty that he suffered no disease of perception nor any eccentricity of thought, and yet he could find himself amongst these orchards of intellect no reconciliation; had he been privy to the dense and fibrous neural dance of action potential and the membranes to which they were received, and of the synaptic trains that seemed in the crux of that moment to betray him, then he should liken this bloody communion between the reception of senses and the vagaries of reason to the legendary confusion of tongues between Enmerkar and Aratta’s Lord, with the amendment that their messenger had died with his body still dangling from the horse. 
     But there, there. An-Kala held not the pride of a metaphysician, but that of a scribe. His mind may bear its torment, but his hands shall suffer no loss. 
The mirth-bearing beast and its proboscis of carnelian continued to spit its ill-tidings, like unfurling bitter maledictions from its smarmy marsupial pocket of curses, a pungent zoonosis of nonsense which strove to raven An-Kala, the subsequent inheritor their scrying tongues. What bitter portent would the rainbowed creature spit next? The scribe's brow furrows; he is too cold to sweat. Would it claim that his instrument was not a stylus but a wooden caterpillar, his clay not made of earth but the pits of a rotting date? The human mind could handle much in its service, but fathom more; yet parse it less; and the adaptability of language can only be so moulded from the cast of necessity, or corralled by purpose on the counters of the tongues it graces. The language of the land was logographic, and, much like a crossbow being used to fell a cedar tree, or a spoon of felt being used to harvest fish, An-Kala was left to phonographs for concepts and terms for which he held no appropriate cognate or mere helm of understanding. But on his honor as a court scribe would he find some way to do it, even if it felt like he was playing a song composed for a trumpet on a lyre. 
‘Car’? ‘Vehide’?   Was a ‘face-book’ some sort of death mask? 
     Had An-Kala the audacity to lift his hand from his work he would scratch at his head, which was beginning to feel like its internal contrivances were melding into a veritable ooze of cuneiform cacography that the impish little harlequin would fashion into some linguistic apparatus for his king’s entertainment. 
     But it seems the beast would hardly need it.
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     “Hohoh! What utter nonsense!” Gilgamesh held the jocular organism by firm grip, his thumb impressing upon the prismatic fibrous net about its motley cranium as if the act could rouse him further entertainment. The spill of its lachrymal glands gratify him. “Your inanity redeems you, mongrel. Let your soul gladden at the fact it has bestowed the King such laughter. You may continue until its novelty wears!”
Silently, yet with doubtless progression, did the growing pile of clay tablets approximate of his throne dais rise to commendable number. Since the chanticleer-cry of the dawn’s Imdugud had the King of Heroes and the privileged members of his court been the recipient of the harlequin’s damfool ballads, jejune sonnets, lurid poems, such trifling regales, and now, a fatuous tragedy redolent of folly and diaphanous woe. A graceful caryatid of resplendent verisimilitude amidst the short anthology of jests, however, raises a decorous voice amongst the palais. “Your Majesty, if I may.” Siduri, the paragon of forbearance, held her head in respectful inclination, yet her tone, as though forged by the edges of the years to adamantine quality, arose with even, dutiful cadence. “When I suggested a tribute to smooth over tensions, this is not exactly what I had in mind.” 
“And you shall spare it none. It would be a peerless honor even had I granted her a common stone.” The King declares, noble and peerless in his gesticulation even with a clown in his grip. “But they will receive no such privilege. The words of a fool are an offering to which they are equal.” He snaps his fingers. “Put it with the rest.” 
     The depredation of squalls alarmed in An-Kala’s consciousness would betray no expression to their vociferous churnings, for there was an indelible pride to the curvature of his spine, and a pleasure about his clay-kissed fingertips. His Majesty need not shout any words to the scribe; the King demanded perfection, and he would receive it. There is a pulchritude in An-Kala’s work above that he might discover as an oarsman, a bricklayer, a potter, a bard, in the fruits of his labor and the records that would outlast him. The King’s unimpeachable words, his thunderous elocutions, his imperial didactics, his every utterance, were all far heavier than any tablet or stone upon which they are carved. And An-Kala reveled, as might an oarsman in braving tumultuous tide, or a bard in brightening the people’s souls, with the honor of conveying His word.
And a court scribe does not question what he writes; he simply does. But when An-Kala looks down at his clay, it is almost as if he can parse his worn expression on its jester-cursed surface. 
             ⁠— An-Kala makes a mental note that he, himself, was suffering great cranial agony. 
     Amongst the throng thrashing about his mental chassis of prudence, the scribe could hear the efficient rustle of palace attendants as they knelt by his side to acquire another folly-laden tome, the soft placement of their tender blocks near the lick of fire to harden. “Of course, your Majesty,” Comes a servant's response. “Right away, your Majesty.” The jester’s mouth begins to open. Another folly will be borne. There will be no balm to An-Kala's disquiet.
       “I am certain Lady Ishtar and her temple will enjoy such an...abundant offering.”
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catboyhdb · 2 years
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i neeeed to catch up to tomorrow omg every gif i see is just @_@
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adriandanailamusician · 6 months
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minnesotafollower · 7 months
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More on Cuba’s Current Problems 
In Cuba’s Sancti Spiritus Province, factories making cookies, sweets and other floury foods have been closed. The weight of bread sold through the ration book was reduced from 80 grams to 60. During peak electrical hours all production processes stop while offices may use electricity only until 11:00 am. Urban transportation will only operate in morning and afternoon.[1] The authorities of…
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whatisonthemoon · 2 years
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"FATHER WAS EMBRACING OF HYUNG JIN NIM, BUT MOTHER SAID, 'NO'! This is a 3 minute video of Gil Ja Sa Eu, the wife of Hyo Won Eu, the first president of the Unification Church. Ms Eu said that Father was always impressed with the purity of Hyung Jin Nim, because being a handsome man, he shaved his head and wore buddhist robes, so that he would not be tempted.But she said Mother was not impressed, she said 'No'
This shows that Hak Ja Han was not united with Father and was in disagreement with Father over Hyung Jin Nim for many years! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgcTDP7fj9U&t=18s
From a Sanctuary Church supporter
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sesamenom · 21 days
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@general-illyrin @tar-thelien @who-needs-words I think you all mentioned being interested in the reverse gondolin au - is anyone interested in helping with wrangling the timelines, especially the second age stuff? Here's the current outline:
(Edit: anyone feel free to help out if you're interested!)
YT 14365 - Birth of Lomion
YT 14373/FA 1 - Death of Argon
FA
2 - Aredhel adopts Lomion
300 - Birth of Idril
316 - Turgon & Idril kidnapped by Eol
400 - Turgon & Idril rescued. Death of Eol
465 - Finrod more-peacefully passes throne to orodreth while on Quest. Everyone except beren still dies
472 - Nirnaeth. Turgon named High King of the Noldor.
476 - Turgon abdicates official title. Aredhel named High King of the Noldor.
496 - Tuor comes to Gondolin
502 - Wedding of Idril and Tuor
503 - Births of Earendil and Elwing. Idril begins to have foresight dreams about the Fall.
506 - Second Kinslaying. C^3 dead, celebrimbor stays in gondolin. Aredhel denounces the oath/kinslaying and disowns C^3
Elwing survives & is found by Oropher & Thranduil // Galadriel & Celeborn. oropher, thranduil, oropher's wife, and thranduil's then-gf // galadriel & celeborn take Elwing to Gondolin as refugees. The Silmaril is left hidden in the woods of melian's domain.
507 - Elwing comes to Gondolin.
509 - Idril captured by Morgoth. Idril reveals the location of Gondolin in exchange for an Oath to not harm her family (Turgon, Tuor, and Earendil). Idril rescued.
510 - Gondolin prepares for war with Morgoth.
513-522 - Siege of Gondolin. Deaths of Duilin and Rog. Gothmog slain by Aredhel the Huntress. First use of the Three Rings by Lomion and Celebrimbor in defense of Gondolin. House of the Hammer of Wrath destroyed.
523 - Maedhros believes a Silmaril is with Elwing at Gondolin.
525 - Earendil weds Elwing. Lomion weds ???. Adoption of Gil-Galad
532 - Births of Elrond and Elros.
538 - Third Kinslaying at Gondolin. Death of Amras. Elrond and Elros kidnapped by Maglor. Deaths of Elwing and Turgon. Second use of the Three Rings by Lomion and Celebrimbor. Deaths of Maedhros and Aredhel. Lomion named King of Gondolin and High King of the Noldor. Deaths of Salgant, Penlod, and Tuor. Earendil named Lord of the House of the Wing.
540-549 - War declared between Gondolin and the Feanorians of Himring over the Third Kinslaying and kidnapping of Princes Elrond and Elros.
549 - Elrond and Elros recovered. Feanorians and Gondolin severely weakened. Celebrimbor // Gil-Galad declared heir to the High Kingship.
552-554 - Second Siege & Fall of Gondolin. Third use of the Three Rings by Lomion and Celebrimbor. Deaths of Ecthelion, Glorfindel, Egalmoth, and Turgon. Idril and Celebrimbor lead survivors through the Secret Way.
555 - Gondolithlim refugees arrive at Sirion.
556 - Idril departs for Valinor.
558 - Earendil searches for Valinor.
560 - Havens of Sirion destroyed by Morgoth. Gondolithlim/Doriathrim survivors scattered. Elrond and Elros rescued (as adults) by Maglor.
572 - Morgoth controls Beleriand. Earendil and reembodied Elwing come to Valinor and rally the Host.
575-617 - War of Wrath
618 - Maglor claims the Silmaril from Eonwe's camp and casts himself into the Sea. Death of Maglor.
620 - End of the First Age.
SA
1 - Founding of the Grey Havens and Lindon under High King Lomion
2 - Elros becomes the first King of Numenor
c. 500 - Sauron returns to Middle-Earth in the East.
650 - Eregion is founded
1000 - Galadriel is given Vilya; Lomion wields Nenya
1170 - Annatar comes to Lindon and Lomion turns him away. Lomion warns Celebrimbor of Eregion of his suspicions.
1200 - Annatar comes to Eregion. Celebrimbor takes him in to monitor.
1250 - Celebrimbor creates the Seven; Lomion creates the Nine.
1410 - Annatar is kicked out of Eregion.
1600 - The One Ring is forged. Sauron remains in hiding.
1610 - Sauron begins to gather and prepare armies in the East.
1673 - War of the Elves and Sauron begins.
1675 - Sauron invades Eriador.
1677 - Fall of Ost-in-Edhil. Celebrimbor and Lomion remain at the House of the Mirdain. Death of Celebrimbor in battle // Fourth use of the Three in battle. Sauron does not learn of the Seven. Founding of Imladris.
1678 - Sauron defeated by the Numenoreans and the Elves of Lindon.
1679 - Sauron flees to Mordor. First White Council held.
3147 - Civil war in Numenor.
3225 - Ar-Pharazon seizes the Sceptre.
3228 - Elrond claims the Sceptre. Ar-Pharazon disowned. Tar-Miriel named Ruling Queen.
3232 - Sauron taken to Numenor as a prisoner.
3274 - Elrond kicks Sauron out of Numenor and outlaws the morgoth cult.
3310 - Morgoth cult publicly reappears.
3319 - Downfall of Numenor. Tar-Miriel leads a greater force of the Faithful away.
(green // blue means two main options, red means i need to think about it more)
The main details I'm figuring out right now are
does Celebrimbor still die at Eregion - I don't think he's getting captured/tortured, but he could still die in the battle. On the other hand, he could probably survive by using Narya & Lomion using Nenya, but that would definitely have repercussions further down the line
how does Idril's deal work - I'm currently thinking of Idril exchanging the location of Gondolin for her family's guaranteed safety, because it seems in character for Reverse Idril? But on the other hand, even if I limit it to immediate family at the time of the oath (tuor, turgon, earendil) then idk where turgon dies? Maybe Maglor can kill him but that seems kind of random
where and how does Turgon die
how does Prince Elrond's character even work
how does Numenor still fall when factoring in Prince Elrond - I'm thinking that the morgoth death cult gained enough traction during the time sauron was there that even after Elrond kicks him out, the cult still sticks around and reemerges later? The Fall still happens, but they never go to attack valinor and there's a good deal more Faithful (maybe 40-60%?)
#silm#silmarillion#not art#reverse gondolin au#basically elrond is giving me a Lot of trouble here#i tacked an extra 30 years onto the FA (so the SA dates are mostly shifted up by 30 years to balance it out; hence elros being king in SA 2#this means e&e were adults during the Fall of Gondolin and the war of wrath and all#so instead of 'kind as summer' elrond of the last homely house in rivendell#we have gondolithrim veteran/dragonslayer Prince Elrond of Imladris Stronghold#and later the Bastion of the Faithful of Numenor#ironically enough he turned out way more feanorian when not raised by feanorians#instead of sirion e&e's defining Childhood Trauma was the gondolin kinslaying#in which mae and aredhel duel to the death while screaming at each other about fingon's fate and the Oath#and argon and elenwes deaths on the helcaraxe#also elwing fully died trying to protect them in this one#and then e&e were like 20something and sons/grandsons of two Lords durign the FoG so obviously they ended up fighting there too#and then again at the war of wrath#and by the mid SA elrond has already lived through so many wars he's running rather low on hope#so Prince Elrond still tries to be kind but is also substantially more willing to threaten people if need be#after eregion he founds imladris as a haven but also an impenetrable fortress#he saw the fall of gondolin and he knows that rivendell couldn't last forever#but he believes he can make it last long enough to defeat sauron first#or at least push him back so that the refugees of eregion can rebuild and survive#meanwhile celebrimbor takes up the last homely house role#but yeah Prince Elrond is pretty interesting#he intervenes more with numenor bc hes watching them self destruct and knows (bc foresight) exactly what would happen#so he tries (eventually in vain) to prevent it by disowning and exiling ar pharazon#and later exiling sauron around the time of the burning of nimloth#but it's too late and the morgoth cult already gained enough traction#on the other hand there's a lot more Faithful led by tar-miriel
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twentysnoir · 2 months
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Especial KRP — Sobrenomes Coreanos
Cansado de Lee? Kim? Seo? Song? Choi? Hwang? Park? Abaixo do "Read More" você vai encontrar alguns sobrenomes mais incomuns que pode usar em seus personagens coreanos.
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Ah, A (아 - A)
Ae (애 - É)
Ban, Bahn, Van, Vahn, Pan, Pahn (반 - Ban)
Beon, Bun, Buhn, Veon, Vun, Vuhn (번 - Bón)
Beom, Bum, Buhm, Veom, Vum, Vuhm (범 - Bóm)
Bo, Vo (보 - Bô)
Bok, Vok (복 - Bôc)
Bong, Vong (봉 - Bông)
Boo, Bu, Voo, Vu (부 - Bú)
Bi, Vi, Bee, Vee (비 - Bi)
Bin, Been, Bean, Vin, Veen, Vean (빈 - Bin)
Bing, Beeng, Ving, Veeng (빙 - Bing)
Da (다 - Dá)
Dam (담 - Dam)
Dan (단 - Dan)
Dang (당 - Dang)
Dae, Dai (대 - Dé)
Dok, Dock (독 - Dôc)
Dokgo, Dokko (독고 - Docô)
Don (돈 - Dôn)
Dong (동 - Dông)
Dongbang (동방 - Dôngbâng)
Deung (등 - Dûng)
Deungjeong, Deungjung (등정 - Dûngdjóng)
Eogeum, Uhgeum, Ugeum (어금 - Ógûm)
Eun (은 - Ûn)
Eum (음 - Ûm)
Hak, Hahk (학 - Rác)
Hae (해 - Ré)
Hyeong, Hyung, Hyoung (형 - Rióng)
Ho, Hoh (호 - Rô)
Hwa, Hwah (화 - Ruá)
Hwangmok (황목 - Ruangmôk)
Hwangbo (황보 - Ruangbô)
Hoo, Hu (후 - Ru)
Ja, Jah (자 - Já)
Jeom, Jum (점 - Djóm)
Je, Jeh (제 - Djê)
Jegal, Jekal (제갈 - Djegál)
Jeo, Juh (저 - Djó)
Jong (종 - Djông)
Jwa, Joa, Jua (좌 - Djuá)
Jeung (증 - Jûng)
Kangjeon, Kangjun, Gangjeon, Gangjun (강전 - Gangdjón)
Ka, Ga (가 - Ga)
Kal, Gal (갈 - Gal)
Kam, Gam (감)
Kan, Gan (간 - Gan)
Kae, Gae (개 - Gué)
Kyun, Kyeon, Kyoun, Gyun, Gyeon, Gyoun (견 - Guión)
Kyung, Kyeong, Kyoung, Gyung, Gyeong, Gyoung (경 - Guióng)
Kye, Gye (계 - Guiê)
Kok, Gok (곡 - Gôc)
Kwan, Gwan (관 - Guân)
Kwok, Gwok (궉 - Guóc)
Kyo, Gyo (교 - Guiô)
Kuk, Guk, Kook, Gook, Kuck, Guck (국 - Guc)
Kung, Koong, Gung, Goong (궁 - Gung)
Kwok, Gwok, Kweok, Gweok (궉 - Guóc)
Keun, Geun (근 - Gûn)
Keum, Geum (금 - Gûm)
Ki, Gi, Kee, Gee (기 - Gui)
Kil, Gil (길 - Guil)
Lin, In, Rin, Leen, Een, Reen (인 - In)
Man, Mahn (만 - Man)
Mangjeol, Mangjul (망절 - Mangdjól)
Mae (매 - Mé)
Maeng (맹 - Méng)
Myung, Myeong, Myoung (명 - Mióng)
Mo, Moh (모 - Mô)
Mok, Mock (목 - Môc)
Myo (묘 - Miô)
Moo, Mu (무 - Mu)
Mubon, Moobon (무본 - Mubôn)
Muk, Muck, Mook, Moock (묵 - Muc)
Mi, Mee (미 - Mi)
Nan (난 - Nan)
Namgoong, Namgung, Namkoong, Namkung (남궁 - Namgung)
Nang (낭 - Nang)
Nae (내 - Né)
Noi, Nwe (뇌 - Nê)
Ok, Ock (옥 - Ôc)
On, Ohn (온 - Ôn)
Ong (옹 - Ông)
Pan, Pahn (판 - Pan)
Paeng (팽 - Péng)
Pyeon, Pyun, Pyuhn (편 - Pión)
Pyeong, Pyung, Pyuhng (평 - Pióng)
Po, Poh (포 - Pô)
Pyo (표 - Piô)
Pung, Poong (풍 - Pung)
Pi, Pee (피 - Pi)
Pil, Fil, Peel, Feel (필 - Pil)
Ra, La, Rah, Lah (라 - Lá)
Ran, Lan (란 - Lan)
Rang, Lang (랑 - Lang)
Ryeo, Ryuh, Lyeo, Lyuh (려 - Lió)
Roe, Loe, Roi, Loi, Rwe, Lwe (뢰 - Lê)
Sa, Sah (사 - Sá)
Sakong, Sagong (사공 - Sagông)
San, Sahn (산 - San)
Sam, Sahm (삼 - Sam)
Sang, Sahng (상 - Sang)
Seomun, Seomoon, Suhmun, Suhmoon, Sumun, Sumoon (서문 - Sómún)
Seonu, Seonwu, Seonwoo, Seonoo, Sunu, Sunwu, Sunwoo, Sunoo (선우 - Sónú)
Seob, Sub, Seop, Sup, Suhb, Suhp (섭 - Sób)
Sobong (소봉 - Sobông)
Soo, Su (수 - Su)
Sun, Soon (순 - Sun)
Seung (승 - Sûng)
Si, Shi, Xi, See, Shee, Xee (시 - Xi)
Tak, Tahk (탁 - Tác)
Tan, Tahn (탄 - Tan)
Tang, Tahng (탕 - Táng)
Tae (태 - Té)
Uh, Eo, Eoh (어 - Ó)
Wan, Wahn (완 - Uán)
Wang, Wahng (왕 - Uáng)
Wun, Un, Woon, Oon (운 - Un)
Wi (위 - Uí)
Ya, Yah (야 - Iá)
Yeop, Yeob, Yup, Yub, Yuhp, Yuhb (엽 - Iób)
Yeong, Young, Yung (영 - Ióng)
Ye, Yeh (예 - Iê)
Yo (요 - Iô)
Yong (용 - Iông)
Yook, Yuk (육 - Iúk)
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runawaymun · 5 days
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if nobody's been here yet I'm gonna be very cringe and on brand and ask about the Partake Prequel
also Rivendell's Tiny Tearaway sounds DELIGHTFUL
Ahhhh thank you!
Ask me about my not-yet-written-fics from this list
The Partake Prequel
(also if you wanted to know more about Rivendell's tiny tearaway just lmk I can make another post for that haha. But I am glad it sounds good!!!)
(cw: discussions of pretty abusive dynamics and questionable consent, also discussion of sex)
so this only exists in my head because a) I'm morbidly curious and have a fascination with the psychology of messed up relationships and b) I am a masochist.
I am just constantly thinking about how the fuck We Got Here when it comes to To Partake. Like how do things get to a point where it's this fucked up and messy and tangly and Bad?
and of course there are bits and snatches that are mixed in to Partake -- like little glimpses into the backstory of Elrond and Gil's situationship, but I want to know more specifically how we got to where we are now.
We know that Elrond started pining after Gil sometime in the late first age when he was roughly in between the age of fifty and seventy. Which...for a Peredhel is a perfectly acceptable age to be sexual (Elwing and Dior had kids and were married by 30). But from an Elvish perspective (i,e. Gil's) that's a baby.
Literally he does not think about anyone else. This is a somewhat unhealthy obsession already. There's a fealty-kink wrapped up in here somehow that's all messily combined with the fact that Gil is currently the only adult who is really present in Elrond's life (if we're going with ROP's timeline Galadriel seems to fuck off to hunt Sauron shortly after Morgoth's imprisonment in the void, and you know...Earendil is busy Earendiling)
So to start I don't think Gil even really saw anything with Elrond as being on the table until sometime in the very early second age, after he appoints Elrond as herald. It's unclear when this happened -- I couldn't find a date for it. But I presume it to be sometime after Lindon is founded and Mithlond constructed and certainly after Elros sailed for Numenor (Elrond would have been emotionally vulnerable and attached to Gil-Galad even more -- and in my head Elros would not have approved of anything going on between Elrond and Gil-Galad so that's very off limits until he's gone)
But--- with Elros gone indefinitely, yeah Elrond gets more attached to Gil.
They're still not sexual yet though.
Elrond is taking regular trips to Numenor etc.
So I generally imagine that things really Began between the two of them sometime shortly after SA 432, when Elrond is around 500 years old. He's "mature" at this point in Elvish terms, and Elros has just died -- so, unhinged and probably at one of his lowest points.
SEX CW: I have a VERY firm idea in my head which I was planning to make a oneshot of. But Elrond at this point does get Very Horny about Gil and starts masturbating about it sometime around here. Gil catches him and that's how....uhhhh things start.
Because OBVIOUSLY (Gil brain here) he is into Gil and THEREFORE this is a PERFECTLY NORMAL and FINE thing to do!
Plus he is OF. AGE.
Nevermind the fact that Elrond is incredibly unstable and vulnerable and depressed & still extremely young, completely inexperienced, and there's some really fucky power dynamics -- all of which affect his ability to consent properly to ANYTHING.
So that's how it starts. They just start having sex. I think nobody really knows about it at this point.
(we start with mostly just Gil on the receiving end of some oral sex that Elrond is getting rapidly better at)
Gil's the one to broach anything more than that and Elrond is down for anything as long as Gil is happy.
rumors do start circulating at this point but absolutely nobody is keen to confront them about it.
I feel like there's potential here for Galadriel to catch wind of things, directly ask, and for Elrond to deny absolutely everything.
If she asked Gil there's no way that he'd admit that anything is going on either because she makes him fear for his life haha.
Elrond has been actively suppressing links to Melian at this point because it freaks out most Elves -- and because Gil doesn't like it.
At some point Gil broaches-- and by broaches what I really mean here is tries (he doesn't ASK!!) an osanwe link. Likely either during or just after sex.
Elrond does not know any better and his brain is full of dopamine and he thinks this is AWESOME. The king wants to be EVEN MORE INTIMATE
boom osanwe link. Far more of an osanwe link than they ever should have had.
boom immediate dissonance which is painful for Gil and so he assumes it is painful for Elrond
Elrond has not had enough osanwe experience to know this is pretty insular to the specific way his and Gil's Themes don't mesh.
"Let me fix it ok?" "Oh god please fix it"
Also there's the undertone here of Gil doesn't like it and Elrond feeling the need to manage his emotions and divest himself of anything displeasing even if that's his fucking Theme.
Hence the theme fuckery begins.
And things really really really start to devolve with their relationship.
Like I imagine in the beginning Gil was pretty cautious and careful -- not in a lovey dovey way but he's not wholly inconsiderate and it's within his Partake characterization that he doesn't like to hurt his partner unless it's in a fun kinky way. He also does not get off on someone being scared. That's an ick for him. So initially he would be careful.
But Elrond starts getting really good at masking things and figuring out that Gil likes to be rough.
And of course, anything for Gil.
Do you see where we're going.
Well and it's compounded by the fact that Elrond does actually like it, too. It just scares him. So he as a lot of really confusing feelings going on that he doesn't know how to handle and there's also a lot of shame wrapped up in it too
And obviously Gil is not um. Guiding him through this in the way that a more experienced partner who is sometimes building scenes and domming should.
And again -- there's that messy thing of "I need to please you in absolutely every way possible and also clearly my differences are Bad, and therefore I must mask all of them as best I can and keep up with my work demands because being useful is better than being loved."
(Which is a lesson he learned from literally everyone, even Elros in the end. It is not a lesson that Elros meant to teach him. But Elros loved him. And then he left.)
Anyway that's as far as I've gotten. The beginning is much more specific and it gets more nebulous as we get closer to the Partake timeline, but it's very easy for me to see the trajectory of their relationship, and that's really what I want to explore.
OHHHH also the undertone of codependency because Elrond and Gil are both fundamentally isolated and find solace in each other. And Gil isolates Elrond further to ensure that He Will Not Be Left. Because Gil is afraid of being inadequate and has literally no one else except like, Cirdan, who cares for him so deeply. (I mean, he would. If he wasn't an asshole. But you get where I am going with this.)
Yeah. Sorry.
There is no happy ending to this fic it is just a dissection of how we get from point A to point B. The happy ending would be Partake alkdhg.
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Gil.
Your voice cuts through the end of Ranger and Trevor's conversation, startling both of them, before Ranger could leave the room.
"Gil...?" Trevor questioned. Ranger stayed silent, thinking... Thinking..
"JESUS CHRIST! GIL!" The sudden outburst from Ranger's end startled Trevor so badly that he nearly fell forward onto the bed. "I can't believe I hadn't thought of that before! Fuck!"
"Gil? Who's Gil? What does that mean?" Trevor asked quickly, urgency pushing his words out faster. Ranger dug through his duffle, tugging his laptop out and throwing it open.
"Gil- That's the name of one of the to-be Hacked- The one that fucking got away. God- He must've been injected with the same serum branch as Aiden was, but he wasn't chipped, so his consciousness is in the system but not under any control whatsoever- He's latched onto Aiden's accidentally, so it had some place to settle- This is fucking ridiculous."
"I- I didn't know that PAMA could do that-"
"It shouldn't be able to! A soldier like that is supposed to remain- On ice, dormant, whatever word you want to use. This was never factored in as a potential problem with the system- Probably because no one is supposed to escape to begin with."
"So what does that mean- for us?"
"If he figured out how to meld completely and see through Aiden's eyes, which... I can assume he has, from this sort of infection and double consciousness-" Ranger breathes out a deep sigh, putting his hands over his face. "He knows everything. I have to tell Orion... And I have to leave, now."
Ranger stuffs his laptop away again, zips up his bag and rushes out of the room, leaving Trevor alone with the radio.
[Ranger is no longer available for questions]
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palafoxiana · 6 months
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Voilà donc le thème de ce blog. L'érotisme et la pornographie à travers les mots. Des auteurs divers, certains récents, d'autres beaucoup plus anciens, quelques uns au style soigné, la plupart sans intérêt littéraire, tous chantent le plaisir (surtout celui de l'homme). Leur imagination est sans limite.
A l'issue de chaque extrait, vous trouverez un lien vers le roman afin de le télécharger si vous souhaitez mieux le découvrir
Table des liens :
On ne naît pas soumise, on le devient - Manon Garcia
Golden Boys lintégrale - Fleur HANA
La vie sexuelle de Blanche-Neige - Etienne Liebig
Confession de mes 7 péchés capitaux - Julie Bray
Contes pour petites filles perverses - Nadine Monfils
L'érotisme arabe - Malek Chebel
Gamiani ou Deux nuits d'excès - Alfred de Musset
Fille à vendre - Dïana Bélice
Pouvoir et soumission - Caralyn Knight
La maison sur le Nil ou les apparences de la vertu - Pierre Louÿs
Les vierges et autres nouvelles - Irène Nemirovsky
Les pornographes - Traduit du japonais par Jacques Lalloz
Haikus érotiques - Jean Cholley
Golden boys 5.2 Final - Fleur Hana
Aphrodite (mœurs antiques) - Pierre Louÿs
La femme du notaire - Esparbec (les interdits)
Jean-Jacques Pauvert - Editeur en roue libre
Lectures amoureuses - Jean-Jacques Pauvert
Pybrac - Pierre Louÿs
Le plan Q - Jean-François Bayart
Poèmes érotiques - Paul Verlaine
La bourgeoise - Gil Debrisac
Baisée par mon prof - Valérie Delatour
Les exploits d'un jeune Don Juan - Guillaume Apollinaire
Baise-moi - Virginie Despentes et Version femmes plurielles, relire Baise-moi de Virginie Despentes - Nadia Louar
Le livre de cul dont vous êtes l'héroïne - Aurélie Stefani
La photographie érotique - Klaus Carl
Le rideau levé ou l'éducation de Laure - Honoré Gabriel Riqueti de Mirabeau
Il a fait de moi sa poupée de chair - Clotilde A.
Histoire de l'œil - Georges Bataille
Anthologie de la fellation en BD - Nicolas Cartelet
Monsieur est servi - Esparbec
Dictionnaire érotique - Alfred Delvau
Les onze mille verges ou les amours d'un hospodar - Guillaume Apollinaire
Dressage d'une secrétaire - Alégarec
Histoire d'O - Pauline Réage et Pour une lecture narratologique d'Histoire d'O - Muriel Walker
Trois filles et leur mère - Pierre Louÿs
Les yeux de Pandora - Manara - Cerami
Manuel de civilité pour les petites filles à l'usage des maisons d'éducation - Pierre Louÿs
Anthologie de la sodomie - Bernard Guerin
Comment draguer la catholique sur les chemins de Compostelle - Etienne Liebig
Fantasme de femme, le faire sans le dire, le dire en le faisant - Esparbec
Liens vers la photothèque :
Master & servant
Sexual healing
Anal
Blowjob
Lolita
Lesbos
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aurivore · 14 days
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don't ask how she got into his vault ... again. the metaphysical is a poor constraint for the destroyer ( despite this foreigner shell ), his authority is far worse. on that point, don't ask why it's chucking out half his 'treasures' into an unceremonious heap either. the disinterest is evident, boredom with every haphazard toss ( there may be an element of spite here, some annoyance he's no doubt the cause of ): " ... they sounded grander "
A SNEER LACED WITH CONTEMPT flashes across his visage, severe and brutally unremitting, monarchal grandeur undercut in visions of unparalleled violence, the perfect lines of his physiognomy creasing with each aural indication of his treasures being treated as mere toys. Gilgamesh’s back begins turned, lashes fluttering to near close though sufficing little to obscure the hyperbrutality of the radiant alizarin surging from narrowing eyes, as though no pavilion could suffice to quarter their seething lush. The king’s solid form remains unerringly dignified as he crosses his arms beneath his chest, chin ever-raised, his vociferation cold-flame cataclysm in F# Major, baryton-noble bone-chilling. “I now see why the servant rabble think you paradoxical, Destroyer. Your insolence alone serves as confirmation. Only the greatest treasures should exist in these halls, yet here you stand before me, sullying this golden fact.”
The average trespasser would be mercilessly skewered, their remains a warning, leaving minimal doubt as to the presumed fate of one who treated the contents of his treasury as if they were above such repudiation. It was an act often inspired by some degree of ignorance, folly, or some bastard composite. All permutations met the same fate. Yet in this vault, beyond the standard governances of space and time, such physics-based perturbations would not affect the integrity of his collection. This fact does ill to quell his simmering ire at such insolence — such brazen display of inscience. Destroyer was hardly worthy of gazing upon that which it held, let alone marring it with its touch. Everything within the Gate of Babylon presided there because it possessed an unimpeachable value — a value Gilgamesh declared as King. Invaluable had he deemed each one without exception, deserving of his plunder and judgment. 
So worthy were the creations of Man, the endlessness of his coffers testament to the fact that mankind had yet to be exhausted of its greatest possibilities. 
And here this Servant was, treating that space as its personal playground. He ought to return the treatment in such brutal kind, the nature of his environs the only deterrent from such retribution. The thought of further sullying his treasures bordered on sin. 
“I shall not entertain value judgments from a child who possesses no scale. I see a husk that thinks itself grand, lacking both the lifetimes and perspective to properly appraise even a mere stone. In this you are but a mayfly. Your words are meaningless.” The King concludes, with minimal tarry, that the even the smallest treasure here possessed a greater value than what could be comprehended by the Foreigner, who appeared in possession in several misapprehensions — including the notion that anything in his possession existed for its personal amusement, and that its puerile antics were worthy of his time. He felt no need for the debasement inherent in explication. After all, he did not try to convince the gods of man’s worth in liberation — he simply cut the shackles they imposed and let them rot without another word. 
Remaining still, as though permitting the sun to shine upon an unworthy mote of dust, the King turns his head, aureate cilia framing serpentine rubies slitted with uncut derision, his sonorous voice equally merciless. “You are boring, Destroyer, perhaps even more than you are an annoyance. The only gratification a small mind can pay to a great one is remaining fallen when slaughtered, and even that you fail to offer me.”
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“Though you may mystify the mongrels below, your common blindness is no enigma. The only mystery is why you associate yourself with man when you fail to see value in their creations.”
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sotwk · 1 year
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Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlorien
Haldir Headcanons
The following HCs are written for the purposes of Haldir as a supporting character in "Sons of the Woodland King".
Dedicated to @creativity-of-death, in honor of her love for Haldir and in answer to her request for HCs that might have gotten a *little* out of hand from my end. Thanks for the inspiration! :)
Family History
Haldir was born in Lorinand during the rule of King Amdir, in Second Age 1528. 
Haldir’s father, Belorfing, is a Teleri originally from Lindon. As a young elf he came under the service of Celeborn and Galadriel. He traveled with the Lord and Lady as they migrated from Lindon, to Eriador, and then Eregion. Finally, he followed Galadriel and Celebrian when they moved to Lorinand (Lorien), where he settled down after meeting his wife.
Haldir’s mother, Ninniel, is a Silvan who served in the royal household of King Amdir.  
Haldir’s two younger brothers Rumil and Orophin were both born within 100 years after him, making them close in age by Elven standards. 
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History as a soldier and marchwarden 
When he was just a young soldier of about 150 years, Haldir marched under the banner of Prince Amroth to fight against Sauron’s forces during the Sack of Eregion. 
Even after the loss of Eregion, he continued to participate in the War of Elves and Sauron, joining the armies of Gil-galad that defended Eriador. 
He once came close to Sauron himself on the same battlefield (although he did not engage with him directly), which forever left an impression on him.
Around SA 2100, Haldir and his brothers all moved to Greenwood with their father, Belorfing, to join the household of Prince Thranduil. (see section “Connections to Thranduil and his family” for more info)
Haldir, Rumil and Orophin all fought in the War of the Last Alliance, but because they (fortuitously) marched under the banner of Prince Thranduil instead of King Amdir or King Oropher, they all survived, although they suffered grave injuries. Only Haldir returned years later to participate in the Siege of Barad-dûr.
Once the war was over, Haldir and his brothers made the decision to return to Lorinand, for the sake of their loyalty to their birthplace and out of a desire to support King Amroth after the grievous losses suffered in Dagorlad. 
The brothers took positions as marchwardens, with Haldir quickly promoting to Captain.
Haldir is recognized as one of the kingdom’s best warriors and is also assigned to train all new marchwardens. 
Romantic Relationships
I have not given this much thought and would prefer to leave it open to interpretation/imagines, but I do HC at least that by the War of the Ring he is already happily married to his one true love, a wonderful Silvan elleth, and has at least one child  (a daughter) with her. 
He is an amazing husband and father. His wife and daughter are his greatest weaknesses. 
I utterly reject the Two Towers scene of Haldir dying at Helm’s Deep. I don’t reject much of the things Peter Jackson contributed to LOTR canon, but this is one of them. Haldir is alive and well, PERIOD.
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Personality, skills, and interests
Haldir’s experiences with war and death, which surpasses that of most of the Galadhrim of his generation, led to his somber personality.
Haldir and his brothers are able to converse easily with one another through ósanwe (telepathy), a rare skill taught to them by Lady Galadriel herself. 
He also communicates via ósanwe with his wife, especially when out on patrol. 
Haldir is wiser and more learned than the average Galadhrim because of his innate intelligence and his love for reading and traveling. He inherited a thirst for learning from his father, who is a scholar and scribe of the highest order. 
Haldir speaks fluent Silvan, Sindarin, and Westron, but can also understand some Quenya. (In contrast, his brothers only speak Silvan and Sindarin.)
Haldir’s outpost talan has an ever-present stack of books, which he reads during his breaks from watch duties. He has a special fondness for poetry, which he often memorizes and quotes. 
He has excellent penmanship and enjoys writing letters. He writes constantly to his parents and wrote countless, passionate love letters to his beloved when he was courting her.
He inherited his mother’s gentle and soothing nature and is an excellent caregiver, skilled at healing (as much as a battle-hardened warrior can be) and surprisingly domestic.
He is clean and organized, in a military OCD sort of way, and tends to get irritated by chaos and messes. 
He has a wonderful singing voice, but hates to perform. He would sing only for special people one-on-one, or in a group as part of a community celebration (as Silvan elves are known to do).
He is too self-conscious to be a good dancer. 
He is an utter momma’s boy. 
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Connections to Thranduil and his family
Haldir’s father, Belorfing, moved to the Woodland Realm at about SA 2100, at the invitation/request of Prince Thranduil, to help him establish the library at Bar Lasgalen (the Prince’s palace). This great library would become the first and only center for education in the history of the Woodland Realm. 
Haldir’s mother, Ninniel, eventually followed her family to live in Bar Lasgalen and became a handmaid to Thranduil’s wife, Princess Maereth. 
When Thranduil and Maereth began to produce children, Ninniel transitioned into the role of royal nursemaid. Thus, Haldir’s own mother helped raise all five of the Woodland Realm’s royal princes, including Legolas.
Haldir’s father Belorfing features in Chapter 4 of “Greenleaf’s Day Out”: Link
Haldir’s mother Ninniel features in Chapter 5 of “Greenleaf’s Day Out”: Link
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secondskin007 · 5 days
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