#Annex installation

[pumpingstationsuk]

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[voxpeople]

Russia Suspected to Be Behind New 'Fire Missile at Kyiv' TikTok Challenge

The latest trend on the social media platform sees participants launching ranged airborne weapons at the Ukrainian capital while dancing to Miley Cyrus or whatever.

While the challenge may have gone viral, with more than one million videos of it on TikTok, it is now believed to have been originated by the Kremlin in an effort to aid Putin's war effort in Ukraine.

"This may be a surreptitious way of the Russian government to add to their weapons portfolio and step up their bombing campaigns at no added cost to them," said one national security expert.

Until it can be confirmed whether or not Putin is behind this social media phenomenon, users have been warned against obtaining missiles for use in the challenge. Despite that, TikTok users continue to post content depicting strikes on Kyiv, each receiving thousands of likes.

[yuebinnie]

Proverbs 5:19

☾ Pairing : Human Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader

☆ Warnings : mdni. Priest!Alastor, implied chubby!reader, noncanon Alastor, dubcon, coercion, blasphemy, abuse of authority, blood kink, blood drinking, squirting, multiple orgasms, fingering (f receiving), cunnulingus, catholic prayers used in a sexual context, scriptures used to coerce, cum eating, size kink, loss of virginity (implied, not talked about), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, literally just smut

☾ WC : 9.8k

☆ A/N : Taking a break from Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea to write Alastor smut ^^ This contains heavy Christian imagery, so if it's something you are uncomfortable with, this fic might not be for you! I really enjoyed writing this; it's my first time writing smut for Alastor, so hopefully I do not disappoint you all. I also posted the fic on AO3, if you'd prefer reading there. Have fun!

There was something about going to church that felt incredibly soothing. The deafening silence every time you walked in during the early hours of the day, steps echoing against the painted ceiling and colourful rose window, the shadows dancing behind the burning wicks of the candles set on each side of the main aisle, the smell of dust dancing in the air like a reminder of how desolate the people who came to visit truly were. You had not always been religious, but you had found peace in believing that there was a divine truth, that being good in this life would give you eternal bliss.

The church was a small one, and an old one; how it was still standing you had no idea. It was annexed to a small decrepit churchyard with moss-covered headstones that dated from at least two centuries ago. To any passersby, it'd be believed to be abandoned, as the outside of the building was quite literally falling apart, the bricks slowly eroding and the tiles covering the roof covered with the same moss as the headstones. The exterior appearance did not matter however, only the inside did; that's where God resided after all.

Despite its age, the inside and of the church was well kept. Yes, the rose window was cracked, and, as an attempt to keep the place as pure as possible, electricity had never been installed. The candles did the job of keeping the inside lit, and as for the temperature, well, dressing warmly was mandatory during the colder months of the year. The benches were old and the varnish that had once covered them was long gone; dents and chips could be found here and there, but they were still sturdy. The altar was small and simple, a wooden thing settled on a small stage that hovered only a few inches above the floor. Near the entrance sat a confessional which reeked of mould, but in the absolute presence of God, the smell was easily forgotten.

You had a habit of going to pray most days when you were not bedridden from the exhaustion of spending the night reading your favourite verses. 5 AM; the perfect time to pray, just as the world welcomed the sun's warmth and light. Very rarely did you meet anyone else; it had happened a few times, mostly old people nearing death coming to ask for absolution for their sins. Otherwise, the only person you had seen was the priest, whom you only had spoken to once or twice. He would look at you while you kneeled and mumbled prayers and verses, a smile plastered on his face.

It was the only downside of it all, that unsettling presence. The priest, a handsome man you had apologized to God for finding attractive, was always smiling. It was a bone-chilling sight; it made you feel as though he could see right through you, like he had access to every single thought that cluttered the inside of your mind. He had asked for your name once and had told you to have a 'delightful rest of the day'. That day had turned out to be horrible, as you had learned your grandmother was diagnosed with stage four cancer and only had a few months left. You had prayed for her, but God had decided to take her, nonetheless. Your subconscious had linked the priest's words as a direct cause of your grandmother's tragic diagnosis, and you had tried your best to avoid talking to him ever since.

When you woke up that morning, sweaty and feeling stickiness between your thighs, you felt sick to your stomach remembering the dreams that had plagued your mind in your slumber. A faceless man, dragging his lips down your stomach, his fingers touching your body in a way that was so sinful; the only logical explanation was that you had been visited by an incubus, an agent of evil. God was testing you, letting evil reach you to see if you'd be as faithful as Job or if you'd succumb to sin like Eve had. You cleaned yourself and changed your nightgown to proper clothes, putting a slightly warm coat on before leaving your house.

The sun had not yet started to show itself, and a thick fog floated above the quiet streets. The sky was covered with grey clouds that seemed to hang low, you wondered if you could touch them if you reached up, but your mind was too preoccupied with your predicament to try and touch something so close to Heaven. Mind running faster than a hare trying to escape a wolf, you tried to convince yourself simple prayers would do, but a loud voice kept coming back, telling you this could only be forgiven by confessing. The thought of having to talk to the priest whom you had convinced yourself was the catalyst of your grandmother's death made you want to cry, but the thought of failing God and disappointing Him was far more upsetting. You reached the church as the first rays of light made the dew covering the Earth glisten, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open.

Your eyes fell upon the priest, who was bent down in the middle of the aisle, a long match in his hand as he lit the candles up. You froze, your eyes running across his shoulders and back. The door closed loudly behind you, and you jumped; the man's head snapped in your direction, his smile growing when he saw who had just walked in.

"You are quite early today, my dear," the priest stated simply, his focus going back to the unlit candles that still begged to melt under the burning flames. "Luckily enough, our Creator does not sleep; we're under scrutiny every second of our time on this earth."

You gulped at the words, the implications they held. You crept closer to the man, fidgeting as you thought of what to say. You let out a small quiet sigh, biting down your bottom lip as you stopped and stood a few feet away from him. The man straightened up and turned in your direction, his head tilted to the left as his gaze travelled across your face, "Oh my, whatever has you this upset?"

Your cheeks flushed as your eyes shifted from his eyes to the floor, the shame of what you had yet to confess weighing down your shoulders like the cross your Saviour had carried through heat and pain. You felt tiny, the priest towering over you; he had to be close to two feet taller than you. Had this been how Lucifer felt when he was at last pushed to meet his fate in the depths, a force greater than all administrating the final judgment? Sinfully powerless, a mere weak being? Tears gathered at your lower lash lines as you spoke, oh so quietly, your voice like the echo of an echo, "Father, I have sinned."

Seconds passed, silent ones, before the man hummed and walked past you, making his way to the front of the church. You twirled around, your eyes landing on where the priest now stood, in front of the old rotting confessional. You gulped, nodding to no one in particular before slowly making your way to the man who was stepping into the booth, the door closing behind him. You did the same, slowly closing the door after giving the empty church one last look, your eyes lingering a few seconds on the nailed Christ resting behind the altar, seemingly judging you.

You sat down, cringing at the creaking of the wood beneath your weight. The grille was pulled up, the silhouette of the man on the other side vaguely distinguishable. You took a deep breath, then spoke softly as you brought your right hand to your forehead, the gesture almost instinctual, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." You put your hand on your thigh, staring at the unmoving priest, "Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It is.... too much time, since my last confession. I am a university student, in my last year to obtain a bachelor's degree." A low hum was heard, and you shifted in your seat, trying to find the exact words for your confession.

"Father, something terrible happened last night. In my weakened sleeping state, evil befell me. I was plagued with sinful dreams. You must understand, I am thoroughly devoted to Christ and our Lord, never have I let a man, or anyone, disgrace the body I was given; never have I had thoughts or dreams of this kind. I fear my will is not strong enough, that this evil shall come back and torment me. I fear I will fall into sin, just as our first predecessors did. I am nothing but willing, Father, so please, do help me. I am sorry for all these sins, and the sins of my past life."

You sniffled, wiping away the tears that had fallen down your rosy cheeks, your eyes glued on the silhouette of the man beyond the grille. His silence made you want to cry even more; were you a lost case? Had your fate already been sealed, your soul now tainted because of the touch of evil in such sacred places? You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth as you waited, seconds becoming minutes.

"This evil you speak of, what exactly has it done to you?" His voice seemed to have dropped lower, the sound a bit raspier. You furrowed your brow slightly at the question; you had been clear about the incident. As if feeling your hesitation, the priest continued, "Ma chère, only by knowing exactly what this evil put you through can I give you absolution."

You felt a blush creep up your neck, and flinched as the crack of thunder was heard beyond the church walls; your heartbeat quickened, was this Him telling you to obey?

You let out a small breath, before speaking up, the words shaky, "As I slept, this evil... Entered my dreams. It took advantage of my defenselessness. It disgraced my soul and my body. Upon waking up, there was... Remains of the sinful things it had my body do." You could feel the man's stare on you despite the grille separating you, causing yours to drop to your knees, feeling vulnerable.

"What sinful things did it inflict upon you?" Rain had started falling, as if the sky itself cried for you; the sound of it hammered against the roof, a continuous wail of grief for your poor soul.

"Father, I don't understand how this is necessa-"

"Do you not want absolution? Do you desire to be locked out of His kingdom? The choice is yours," his tone was harsher, demanding, even. You gulped and shook your head; no, that was not what you wanted. It was the furthest thing from it.

"I apologize for questioning your words, Father," you began, fidgeting with the hem of your coat, "From what I can remember... This evil took the shape of a man. A faceless man. I was in bed, and it joined me, and... We, uh, we kissed. It took my nightgown off." Your hands felt clammy, and you couldn't help but press your thighs together as you recollected the events of your dreams. "It kissed my breasts, then my stomach. It went... Down there, and stayed there until my whole body tensed up. Afterwards, it pushed itself inside me, it thoroughly disgraced my body. When I woke up, my body showed signs that it had reacted to the defiling. Father, please, believe me when I tell you that I was coerced by evil."

Thunder was heard again, breaking the silence that had settled between you and the priest. As the minutes passed, you became uneasy; was the man disgusted with you? Could he sense the sins radiating from your being? He cleared his throat, breaking your train of thought. Your eyes went back to his silhouette, waiting for him to speak up.

"I fear this is beyond the power bestowed upon me, dear," his voice was silky, it made warmth spread inside your chest, as if the vibrations it had created affected your very cells.

Your eyes widened; that was impossible. You had confessed and explained the evil that had haunted you. You had done exactly what He told His followers to do, confessed and asked for forgiveness. You shuffled closer to the grille, tearing up as you begged, "Father, please, there must be a way. I will do anything; I will suffer just like our Saviour has if it's what it takes. I'm supplying you, help me get rid of this evil."

“Very well,” the man said. You watched as his silhouette stood up and opened the door of the booth before it disappeared. The door of your little chamber opened, and you turned your head to look at the tall priest, who adjusted his glasses as he stared down at you. You took a few seconds to really look at him. Despite his smile that made shivers run down your spine, the man was handsome. His skin was tan, his hair dark and styled in an old-fashioned way. His features were sharp, intimidating, almost. Towering over you, his shoulders were wider than some quarterbacks’, and his waist was ridiculously small compared to them. His hands seemed to be twice the size of yours, and you found yourself wondering how he managed to button up his shirts with such big hands.

You looked back at his face as you blushed, realizing the man before you knew of your body in such intimate ways. You slowly stood up as you held his gaze, unsure of what to say next. He took a step aside and gestured for you to step out of the confessional, before closing the door behind you. The priest smiled down at you, “Follow me, dear.”

He started walking down the aisle, the flames of the candles on each side of it dancing as he passed by. You hesitantly followed him, looking out one of the small windows to see the rain pouring onto the world as lightning illuminated the sky. He stopped at the altar and turned to you, his smile ever present. You stopped in front of the stage; sinners did not belong anywhere close to that sacred place. The man stayed silent and with a gesture of his hand, permitted you to step up. You gulped and got on the stage, feeling extremely out of place.

“There is one way for you to repent,” he began, his stare fixed on you, “Though it is a bit unorthodox. The choice is yours, but you must remember that there is no place for sinners in Heaven.” He watched as you nodded quickly; you were eager to be forgiven, to go back to being free of sin. The corner of his lips twitched before he uttered one word, “Strip.”

Your eyes widened as your face turned a deeper shade of crimson. Stripping? You searched his face for hints of dishonesty, hoping he was playing a sick joke on you, but to your dismay, he was serious. Your body was frozen as you looked at him, not even the booming thunder making you flinch.

You opened your mouth to ask why, but the man beat you to it, answering your question before you even uttered a word, “Only by showing Him precisely how this evil tainted you can you be absolved. There is no need to be shy, ma chérie; isn’t He all-knowing? All-seeing? Wasn’t the shame of nudity created by His first creations’ sin? There is no purer form of devotion than to go beyond the embarrassment and bare yourself to Him; than to accept the vulnerable nature of your existence.”

He brought his right hand up to lay it flat against the wooden altar, observing you as you fought an inner battle with your dignity. His words were true, the wisdom of a man devoted to God, of someone who knew scriptures and their meaning. As if feeling your unmoving incertitude, he spoke up once again, “Proverbs 28:13.”

You blinked up at him, mind searching for the verse you had read many times before. You licked your bottom lip with your tongue before reciting softly, “He who covers his sins will not prosper, but whoever confesses and forsakes them will have mercy.” The priest hummed, and you raised your gaze to the crucifix hung on the wall behind the altar, feeling as if He was patiently waiting for you to submit to His will. You puffed out a small breath as you nodded to yourself, a hand coming up to the zipper of your coat, slowly bringing it down to then shrug off the piece of clothing and letting it fall on the floor.

You could already feel the wet cold seep through your thin sweater, but you ignored the feeling as you grabbed the bottom of it and lifted it up until it was completely off you; it dropped, finding its place next to your coat at your feet. Your eyes were unfocused, staring into thin air as you slipped your thumbs under the elastic band of your skirt, pushing it down so it pooled at your ankles. You stepped out of it, getting slightly closer to the priest whose gaze was burning your skin despite the goosebumps covering it. You brought a hand to your back, unclasping your bra before slowly taking it off, baring your breasts to the man. Your nipples hardened as the freezing air licked them and you bit hard down your bottom lip as you slid your underwear down your legs, then stepped out of your shoes, leaving you only wearing your lace-arbored anklets.

The man lifted a hand in your direction, a silent request for you to grab it. You did so all while avoiding looking up at him and followed him as he made his way behind the altar, his fingers squeezing yours slightly, “Our Lord blessed you with rare beauty, dear one, what a shame it led evil to you.” You gasped softly as his other hand wrapped around your waist, your eyes shooting up to look at him. He was still smiling, though his eyes seemed clouded with something you could not put your finger on.

He let go of your hand and grabbed the other side of your waist before effortlessly hoisting you up on the altar, the skin of your ass stinging from the cold of the wooden surface. Your gaze was questioning, and the man recited, his voice low and quieter than it had previously been, “I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” You gaped at him; a true man of God, that’s what he was. “Offer your body to Him, and you shall be absolved. Show Him what evil has done to you, so He can forgive and make you pure again,” he held your stare, his pupils slightly dilated. You nodded once, and the priest stepped aside, leaving you to face your Saviour in your naked glory.

You slowly leaned back, using your left elbow to not completely lie down on the wood. You brought your trembling right hand to your lips, the tip of your index finger stroking the pink flesh as you recalled where the lips of the faceless man had touched you. They lingered there for a few seconds before dipping to your neck, dancing around the column of your throat as your eyes fluttered shut; if goosebumps had not already been covering your body fault of the moist cold, they would have appeared, the feeling titillating. Your chest rose and fell in a timely rhythm as you dragged your touch to your breasts where your finger gently caressed your right nipple. Your lips parted, small breaths making their way out as you gathered with your small hand the heavy fat of your breast, squeezing. You could feel the stare of the priest on you, but you attempted to ignore it as you kept going.

Your fingers went down your stomach, using your nails to slightly scratch the skin, and they stopped a few inches below your belly button. You opened your eyes and looked at the crucifix; His peaceful expression, despite being nailed and in pain, gave you courage and you spread your legs, giving your Saviour the perfect view of your most intimate era. You nibbled on your bottom lip as you slowly brought your fingers down, choking on a soft moan when they made contact with your clit. The simple touch made your composure fall a little, your lips parted as your face reddened, feeling more exposed than you had ever felt before. You gently pushed against the bundle of nerves, gasping as your fingers started to move, following a small eight-pattern.

You could feel your heartbeat thundering against your ribcage, matching the loud striking of the heavenly fire against the earth beyond the safety of the church walls. Soft pants left your mouth as you started working on yourself, closing your eyes to focus on the memories of the previous night. Every touch and stroke were vividly drawn in your mind, your fingers moving in an almost instinctual way, leaving you a whimpering mess. You moved your elbow that was holding your weight, slowly leaning your back against the cold wood, before bringing the now free hand to your face, covering your mouth with it as your thighs trembled. Your body was thrumming, humming with new sensations, your mind as foggy as the early morning that had welcomed you when you had stepped out of your home.

Lost in pleasure, you jumped, your eyes shooting open as you felt long fingers wrap around your wrist, the priest looking down at you, his own eyes sharper and darker than they had been earlier. Your fingers nestled between your thighs stopped moving as you stared at him, but he tsked, “My dear, you must not hide anything from Him. These lovely, sinful sounds you make, are not to be repressed. Let them be; let Him hear what evil inflicted upon you,” his voice sent a chill down your spine, your back arching slightly. You watched as the corner of his lips twitched and let him pull your hand away from your mouth, gulping as you nodded weakly. “Good girl.”

Your breath hitched at the praise, eyes not leaving his’ as your fingers started to move once again, bringing your legs up to rest your heels against the altar, spreading your legs a bit more. As if in a trance, your gaze fixed on the priest as you moaned and gasped, your hips twitching as you rubbed your clit. You saw his Adam’s apple bob, his eyes narrowing as you used your free hand to caress the skin of your stomach, slowly inching towards your left breast. Your fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance, and with a bite on your bottom lip and a pinch of your nipple, you pushed your middle finger all the way to the second knuckle, your eyes widening at the feeling. You let out a throaty whine, pressing your head harder against the wooden surface that supported your weight. The cold was long forgotten, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat, muscles spasming here and there.

You slid your other hand between your thighs, the digits quickly finding your clit and gently stimulating it as you managed to push your finger further inside yourself. The faceless man from your dreams had used three fingers, and you could only wonder how your dream self had taken them, as you were struggling with a lonely, short finger. Despite the uncomfortable feeling, you bit down your lip and pushed your index alongside the finger that was already pressed inside you. Your face scrunched up at the stretch, a silent sob echoing through the dimly lit space. You felt your walls clench around your digits, your free hand still working on your clit as a way to make the dull ache more bearable. You waited a minute, giving your body time to adjust to the feeling, before carefully pulling the fingers out and thrusting them back in, a surprised whimper leaving your lips as a new feeling started to blossom in your lower stomach.

You arched your back and started speeding up the motion of your hands, unable to keep quiet as your body grew warmer and more tense. Your eyes fluttered open to look up at the priest, who was as still as Christ watching you from His cross on the wall. As you exhaled, you pushed a third finger in, welcoming the stretch with a high-pitched whine. Your knees dropped down onto the altar, leaving your womanhood fully exposed; you watched as the man glanced at where your hands were working in tandem to replicate almost exactly what the evil from your dream had done to you. You gathered the little concentration you had left and started muttering through gasps and moans, “Compassionate Father, you are the Lord who rescues His people. When I am overwhelmed with shame, help me find solace in you. You have said that you will help—though my sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are as red as crimson, they shall be like wool. Remind me that I have been purified by you, that the curse of sin and evil is no longer upon me. In your powerful name, Ame-” You were cut off by a large hand wrapping around your lower face, the feeling making your body jolt.

Right, it had to be the same as the dream; you had not uttered a prayer in it, far from it. You closed your eyes, moaning against the palm covering your mouth, as you focused on the growing tension in your core. Every second felt like minutes and every minute felt like hours as you quickly thrust your fingers in and out, all while you rubbed and nudged your clit. The pressure was almost unbearable, your whole body twitching as your hips tried to follow the movements of your digits as if they had a mind of their own. The priest moved his hand away, and you opened your eyes to watch him bring it to his mouth where he licked his palm, which was covered with your drool.

Something snapped inside of you and a loud sob made its way out of your throat as your muscles tensed up, your walls clenching tightly around your fingers as you stilled them, your mind unable to think about anything beyond the blinding pleasure that took over your body. Your eyes rolled back, pitiful sounds leaving your mouth as your back arched from the altar, your thighs squeezing together, trapping your hands between them. This felt so much better than it had felt in your dream. You teared up; the Lord’s love was so strong; evil could not even compare.

After a few seconds, your body relaxed, and you were left panting and sweaty, as if you had just run a marathon. Slowly opening your eyes, your vision became clearer as you blinked, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked at the crucifix, then up to the priest who had not moved. You removed your hands from between your thighs and brought your left one up to wipe the pearls of sweat on your forehead with the back of it. You wrapped your right arm around your chest, trying to hide your breasts as you spoke up, your voice small but hoarse, “Have I done it, Father? Am I free of sin? Has our Lord given me absolution?” Hope lingered; you had done what you were told to do, you had been good, and your Lord was good and forgiving, He had to have seen how faithful you were.

The man’s eyebrows raised before he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head slightly, “My dear, this was only your confession. The truest and purest form of confession.” Your smile dropped. You looked at him as he made his way closer to the wall, where he stopped in front of the crucifix that had observed you as you worked on yourself. His chin tilted up as he looked at it, before his head slowly turned to look at you, “But confession is not enough for this type of sin, sadly; you must also be cleansed.”

You sat up, your brows furrowed, watching as the man stepped closer to you. He stood in front of you, his right hand coming to rest on your thigh, just above your knee. His touch was warm and inviting, but you still wondered what his words meant, so you asked, “Cleansed?”

His thumb stroked your skin as he hummed and brought his other hand up to your shoulder, pushing your hair behind it, “Yes, dearest, cleansed. Your body was defiled by evil, it must be purified. You’ve shown our Lord and Saviour how, and now He shall reclaim your body as His’.” You looked at him, your eyes round and big, trying to make sense of the words that had just been spoken. A small pout appeared on your lips, and the tall priest bent down, his face now closer to yours as he said, his voice slightly louder than a whisper, “You are so easy to read, you know? But to ease your confusion; I shall represent our Lord and make you pure again.”

You froze, the realization of what the man meant hitting you just like David’s stone had hit Goliath. You gaped at him, your mouth opening and closing, searching your brain for the right words to speak, afraid to insult God and the man who stood before you. You gulped and said after taking in a deep breath, “Our Lord… I cannot think of mentions of this procedure in the scriptures,” you blinked, your eyes shining as you looked into his’. “Father, has this procedure been tested before? Where does it come from?”

His long fingers dug into the fat of your thigh as you saw the muscle of his jaw clench, a small whimper leaving your lips at the feeling. He kept squeezing, his creepy smile growing, “Are you implying my authority was not given to me by our Lord? That my will does not stem from His’? That I would go against scriptures, something I have devoted my life to?” You shook your head quickly; you had messed up. You were to never question the words of a priest, for he was much closer to God than you were, and you had done just that. This evil needed to leave; it made you do, think and say things that would only make you unworthy of Heaven.

“Father, do forgive me! This evil, it has taken control of my body and sou-”

“There’s no need for that. I shall make your sins a purest white than Abraham’s sacrificial lamb. You will be reborn a new woman, utterly sinless,” he inched his hand higher on your thigh, “That is what you want, isn’t it? To let your God make you pure again?” You gave him a slow nod and his smile widened as he brought his free hand to his face, removing his glasses and putting them on the altar next to you. He nudged your knees open and settled between them, sliding a hand against the back of your head as he sang praise to you, “What a good girl you are, ma chère.”

His lips smashed against yours and you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to follow his lead. The hand resting on your thigh slid to your waist and forced you to get closer to him, his chest pressing against your naked breasts. You moaned into the kiss, pictures of your dream flooding your mind, causing you to wrap your legs around his tiny waist and arms around his neck. You ran your fingers through his hair, letting the man run his tongue along your bottom lip, your mouth opening slightly in response. His kisses travelled down your chin, to your throat, his teeth nipping at your skin as you let your head fall back, giving him better access.

His mouth slid to your chest, and you lowered your chin to look down at him as he wrapped his swollen lips around your left nipple. You grabbed a handful of his hair and pressed him closer to you, arching your back slightly. His eye shot up to look at you, humming against your skin, the vibration leaving you a whimpering mess. He separated from your pink, wet bud with a last lick, smiling as he flicked your other nipple with his thumb, “So eager for absolution, aren’t you?” Your soft pants were interrupted with a small gulp as you nodded once again; there was nothing you wanted more. He ran a hand up and down your thigh before grabbing it and removing it from his waist, doing the same motion with the other one a few seconds later. You silently watched as he kneeled, his face a few inches away from your exposed core. The sight made your heart skip a beat.

Something caught your eyes on the wall, and you looked up, seeing a rainbow light up the crucifix hung on the wall; the rain and thunder had dissipated as suddenly as they had appeared, and sun rays were beaming through the colourful tainted glass of the rose window at the entrance of the church. A small smile tugged at your lips, this had to be a sign you were on the right path. You bit down your bottom lip and gazed down, seeing the priest eyeing your womanhood, a hungry look on his face. Your cheeks reddened as you waited for the man to do something.

He slowly inched closer, and let his nose nudge your puffy clit, causing you to gasp softly at the feeling. You felt something warm run up and down your slit, your grip on his hair tightening as he flattened his tongue against your entrance. Your brows knitted, a small noise leaving your lips as he started to move his wet appendage up and down, moving his head slightly as he did so to get his nose to bump against your clit with each lick. His hands went to your ass, and he brought you even closer to his face; you wondered how he could even breathe.

Your mind started to wander as pleasure slowly took over your limbs; was the man between your legs mistaking you for a wine-filled chalice? The slurping noises his mouth was making against you travelled through your body and rendered you dizzy. You pushed his hair back from his forehead and his eyes shot open to look up at you as his fingers dug into the fat of your ass. His pupils were dilated to the point that you could barely see his iris and there was wetness spreading on his cheeks and nose. Lips parted, you sighed and slightly scratched his scalp with your nails, leaving the man groaning as his stare was still fixed on your face. One of his hands made its way down your thigh and disappeared from your view before it reappeared; a dainty wooden-beaded rosary was dangling from his fingers.

The priest took his mouth away from you, a wide smirk painting his lips as he grabbed your wrist and dropped the prayer beads in your much smaller palm. His other hand came forward and started stroking the skin of your inner thigh as he wrapped his long digits around yours, forcing you to hold the rosary. He licked his bottom lip before speaking up, “You know how this works, don’t you?” His smile grew as he watched you nod, “Perfect. Recite them in your head, except the Five Decades; you must recite those aloud. It’s Thursday, so Luminous Mysteries. Whatever your Lord has planned next and does to you, you must keep going, understood?” You nodded again but he shook his head, “Use your words, dearest.”

“I understand, Father,” you said, your voice small.

The man hummed and let go of your hand, dropping it to your other thigh, massaging the skin there as well. His gaze dropped to where your thumb moved to make the Sign of the Cross on the small crucifix pendant. You closed your eyes as you started reciting the Apostles’ Creed, surrendering your body to the faithful man kneeling before you. His lips pressed against you as you finished the first prayer, your finger moving to the first bead. He fell into a now familiar rhythm, leaving you incapable of staying silent as you breathed out soft moans. Something prodded at your entrance and slowly slipped in as you fell back against the altar with a thud. You arched your back as it kept going, much deeper than you had reached with your fingers. It pumped in and out a few times before the man added a second finger, the pressure and stretch making you whimper.

His tongue kept alternating between sucking on and flicking your clit as you busied yourself with prayers. The priest hummed against you before removing himself; you opened your eyes and lifted your head from the wooden surface, eyes widening when you saw blood on his chin and bottom lip. He removed his fingers from you and showed them to you; they were bloody too. You stared at him silently, uncertain of what to say, but he broke the silence, “See what the evil has left in you? Aren’t you so lucky your Lord is ever so forgiving? That he’s cleaning you up to make you free of sin?” You nodded and bit the inside of your cheek. His eyes were gleaming as his fingers went to your lower stomach, smearing the blood on your skin, which made goosebumps appear.

You studied his face, his sharp, dark hooded eyes were staring at you under his defined eyebrows, his plump lips were stretched in a smile; his tanned cheeks and chin were coated with a sheening coat of your wetness and blood. His hair was now messy—your doing—and his fingers were slowly making their way back to your slit. Without thinking about it, you reached out and cupped his cheek with your free hand, rubbing your thumb against his bottom lip. His tongue darted out to lick your digit as his fingers sank back in you, knocking the breath out of you. Your eyes closed shut as you gasped, your hand falling from his face to rest on your hip. You heard him laugh under his breath before the warmth of his mouth was back on you. Your mind reminded you of the rosary you were holding, and you started reciting the Hail Mary.

As you neared the end of the Glory Be, you felt the man add another finger, the stretch making your eyes tear up as you mewled weakly. The words of the prayer passed in your mind, disappearing as he started to thrust them in and out. Your walls clenched tightly around his digits as your chest rose and fell quickly, panting as your body tried to get adjusted to the burning feeling.

Your fingers landed on the first Decade, and you gathered all your strength to start reciting the prayer, your voice shaky, “Then Jesus came to Galilee to the Jordan to John, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying ‘I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?’ But Jesus answered him, ‘Let it be so now; for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.’ Then he consented.” You were interrupted by a yelp as you felt the priest’s teeth grazing your clit, your free hand landing in his hair, gripping it. Your hips kept twitching as you kept going, stuttering through the words, “And when Jesus was baptized, he went up immediately from the water, and behold, the heavens were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and alighting on him; and lo, a voice from heaven, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’”

The drag of the man’s fingers had turned pleasurable, and you felt your muscles tense up, the feeling in your lower stomach rapidly growing. You pushed on the back of his head, searching for more friction, and you moaned out loudly when he started mumbling against your clit as his fingers kept moving, “Oh my Jesus, forgive me of my sins, save us from the fires of hell; lead all souls to Heaven, especially those who have most need of your mercy.” You could not register the words but the movements of his lips on you made you come undone, your back arching from the altar as your thighs trapped his head in place, your hips lifting to follow his fingers and urge him to press his tongue harder against you. Your every muscle tensed up, crying out as the waves of your orgasm hit you just like the Red Sea had crashed into the Egyptians as He closed its parting. You spasmed around him, your walls trying to push his fingers out, and you felt wetness drip down your ass.

He separated from your clit, kissing it softly as he removed his digits from you, slowly standing up as you cracked your eyes open, your body still jolting randomly as it calmed down from your high. The light coming from the rose window had moved, and from your angle, it looked like a halo surrounding the priest’s head; a breathtaking sight that had you gape in awe. You watched as he tugged at the collar of his shirt, taking his Roman collar off and letting it fall to his feet. Your wetness was dripping from his lips which were harbouring a soft smile, his hands moving unhurriedly to unbutton his cassock. His eyes travelled up and down your spent body, then to the rosary you had forgotten you were still holding; you clenched your fingers around it and moved to a new bead, your lips moving silently as you recited the Hail Mary in your mind.

You kept your eyes on his hands as they reached the last button, the man shrugging off the black piece of clothing, revealing he was wearing a white tank top and black pants underneath it. You gulped at the true size of his shoulders; you had thought his cassock gave the illusion he was large, but even with it off, he looked huge. The smallness of his waist only accentuated how massive the built of the priest was. He had muscles but they were lean; despite it all, he looked strong and exuded a masculine aura that had you squirming in place.

Your observations were interrupted by his voice, “Do you feel like the weight of your sin has lessened, ma chère?” You dipped your chin once; you did feel lighter. The man grinned wider as his hands wrapped around your waist, bringing your torso up effortlessly so you were now sitting. He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning over so his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, whispering, “You did so well, dear, you’re almost as pure as the day you were born. There’s only a step left in this procedure, but it will hurt at first.” He pressed a hand on the back of your head and pushed forward, forcing you to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You inhaled and felt his fingers massage your scalp gently.

He smelled so intoxicating; a mixture of moss, rain, coffee, tobacco and a hint of something floral emitted from his skin. You realized you had pressed your lips against the man’s neck when you felt him tense up, his hand stilling in your hair. You backed away slightly, blushing so brightly you were grateful he could not see your face, muttering an apology. His body relaxed again, and he hummed, “There’s no need for apologies. Bite down my shoulder—don’t be scared to bite hard—it will make you focus on something else.”

You opened your mouth to ask what he meant but pressed your lips together when you heard a zipper, followed by the shuffling of clothes between your bodies. You brought your hands to his chest, the rosary still in your hand, fingers fidgeting with the beads as you felt one of his large and cold hands spread your thighs a little further apart. You felt his fingers run up and down your slit and you gasped at the feeling, your nails slightly digging into the muscles of his chest. A wet sound travelled up to your ears and you closed your eyes, a shiver running down your spine when you felt a hand drop to your hip, kneading the fat there, and his voice, now a low murmur, “Bite down.”

You barely had the time to process the words that you felt pressure against your entrance which ceded, your walls wrapping around something so thick you shrieked before sinking your teeth into the man’s shoulder. It felt like you were being split in half; the thickness slowly forced its way inside you as tears gathered at your lower lash lines before they dripped down your cheeks. You bit down harder and pulled away quickly when you felt iron-tasting warmth coat the inside of your mouth, but the hand still in your hair pushed you against the bleeding bite mark, the priest almost growling, “Bite, and drink. At this moment, I am God; I am Christ. His blood is mine, and my blood is His’. Savour, dear one, and let me cleanse you inside out.” You let out a shaky breath before sinking your teeth back in his flesh, your brows knitting as he pushed his length an inch deeper inside you, “So obedient.”

You let the blood fill your mouth and swallowed, cringing at the taste but unwilling to go against Heavenly orders. Your arms snaked around his waist as he kept slowly pushing himself into you. The pain was unbearable, but your mind went to Christ, and how much he had suffered for the sins of all; the ache between your legs was a pinch compared to what he had endured, so you toughened up and let your tongue lap at the blood. Your brain felt foggy, and you could only take it as a sign that it was your body reacting to being filled with the divine energy pouring out from the priest. His length reached deeper than his fingers had, and you wondered how much of it you had left to take in.

You soon had your answer, the man stilling as his pelvis pressed against yours; he was so deep in you, stretching you so wide. Your mouth detached from his neck, and you pressed your forehead against his skin, panting loudly as you tried your best to relax your walls around him. The hand that was in your hair made its way to your waist, squeezing gently as you felt his lips press against your ear once again, “Your Lord is so pleased with you; you’re taking his cock so well. You’ll be redeemed in no time.” He slowly pulled out, leaving only his tip in, before thrusting in you at a medium speed, leaving you sobbing against his neck. It was overwhelming, the feeling of his length rubbing your inside and the warmth spreading in your chest, God’s love making you burn up. The feeling started to transform from pain to pleasurable pressure, your pained cries turning into needy moans.

You had managed to reach the tenth Hail Mary in your mind, your fingers reaching the second Decade. You whimpered out the beginning of the Second Luminous Mystery, “On the third day there was a marriage at Cana in Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there; Jesus also was invited to the marriage, with his disciples.” The priest started moving faster, his hips meeting yours at a much quicker speed; you whined as his tip hit a certain spot inside you, the rosary dropping on the floor as you dug your nails into the man’s shoulder blades. You could not concentrate on anything other than the drag of his length against your walls, panting and gasping each time he bottomed out.

He slightly pulled away from your body and looked down at you, his hips still moving as he brought a hand to grab your jaw from under, forcing you to look at him. He eyed you before crashing his lips against yours, moaning as he tasted his blood in your mouth. You slid your hands up to his hair, tugging at it and scratching his scalp as your teeth clashed together, tongues dancing. You pressed your chest closer to his’ and sighed as your nipples rubbed against his tank top, the feeling sending electric shocks to your core. You parted away from his lips, catching your breath, and your eyes opened and landed on the crucifix watching you; you smiled softly—oh how good was His clemency. Your gaze went back to the priest who was slightly panting, his lower face covered in blood—just like yours— as he smirked at you, sliding his hand to your cheek, stroking the skin tenderly.

In half a second, he pulled out and manhandled you, so you were now bent over the altar, your breasts pressed against the wooden surface as your feet dangled in the air, his large hands holding you up. His knee nudged your legs open wider and you felt him slip back inside you, the new position bringing a different sensation. His hips met your ass, and he started thrusting into you eagerly, loud smacks echoing through the church. You held yourself up on your elbows, holding your head up as you looked at the front door; if someone were to walk in, they would see the priest cleansing you, a Godsent blessing.

Your elbows started to tremble, and the man noticed; he slid a hand below your stomach and hoisted you up against his chest, your back pressed against him. He held you up, his arms wrapped around you as his pelvis smacked against your ass, your feet dangling one foot above the floor. He slid a hand down, his fingers running down your slit, groaning as he felt where you two were connected. He ran them up again and pushed his middle finger against your puffy clit, gently rubbing it as he kept working himself in and out of you. Your head fell back on his shoulder, and he took the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, kissing and nibbling at the skin.

You truly never had felt anything like this; if you had been a fool, you’d have thought you were glowing from how fulfilled you felt. The familiar tension grew in your lower stomach, lewd noises leaving your mouth as the man dug the fingers of his other hand into your flesh, holding you closer to him as his movements became erratic. His groans and grunts were sending shivers down your back, only adding to the multitudes of sensations you were currently drowning in. As if he could feel you were close to reaching your orgasm, he mumbled against your neck, “Let go, ma chérie. Let evil leave your body, let God replace it with goodness.”

Your breath hitched and with a few more nudges on your clit, the pressure building inside you snapped. Your vision went white as you came, the feeling different from your previous releases. Even through the waves of pleasure, you could feel something drip down your thighs and could hear squelches as the priest kept thrusting his length in you. Your mouth was open, silent cries leaving your throat as you clenched tightly around the man. You felt his lips move against your neck, but you were too lost in feelings to understand what he was saying.

Your tensed-up muscles slowly relaxed as the remains of your orgasm washed over your body. You whimpered as the man kept moving, your core feeling overstimulated by his length still burying itself inside your sensitive walls. He quickly pushed your front back against the altar, grabbing your hips as he moved both his hips and yours in sync, your nails digging into the wood as your ass smacked against him. His thrusts were harsh and fast, leaving you breathless; tears were streaming down your cheeks at the delightful ache.

His hips stilled, his length buried deep inside you, as he groaned lowly. You felt your inside be flooded with warmth, whining as you dropped your forehead against the wooden surface, the cold of it grounding you. You were panting, the warmth creating a pleasant pressure inside your core as the priest rubbed his thumbs over your Venus dimples. He stayed inside you for a few more seconds, before easing out of you, leaving you feeling empty. He once again manhandled you so you were now sitting facing him, holding your limp body up as he dragged a hand up your moist thigh, grinning, “See this wetness? It was the remains of evil leaving your body.” His hand reached your slit and he gathered a sticky white substance on his fingers, bringing his hand up close to your lips, “And this is goodness. Do remember, my dear, your sins are scarlet and they shall be as white as snow.”

You gaped at him; he truly was a man of God. He pushed his fingers past your lips, and you let him, wrapping them around his digits as your tongue licked at the goodness. The taste was bitter, but as your eyes met his’, all you could think about was how caring and selfless the man standing in front of you was. You had come to him, worrying about your purity, and he had completely cleansed you of sin and given you his own God-gifted goodness, not asking anything in return. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brushed your cheek with the back of his index, his smile not faltering, “What is this look you are giving me?”

You blinked a few times, your cheeks flushing as you realized you had been staring, “Father, I must thank you. My body and soul were barren, and you made them anew again. I do not know how I could ever repay you.” His eyes narrowed at your words, his hand reaching to grab his glasses before he put them on and ran a hand through his hair. It dropped to your thigh and drew shapes on there, his gaze not leaving yours.

“Alastor,” he said simply before stepping away from you and bending down to grab your clothes. Your expression turned to a confused one as you watched him slip your underwear up your legs, your skirt following. You let him dress you, his fingers skilfully clasping your bra behind your back before he motioned you to lift your arms so he could slip your shirt back on. Once dressed he let his hand lay on your thigh again, before he spoke up, “My name is Alastor. Call me by it and your debt is repaid.” He grabbed one of your hands and dropped the rosary in it before grabbing your waist and helping you down the altar, “Keep this, use it whenever you feel evil is near.”

You nodded up at him and smiled, your grin faltering for a second when you saw that the crucifix on the wall had detached and was now hanging upside down. Oddly, you thought nothing of it and you looked back at Alastor, your smile spreading wide, “Thank you, Fa—Alastor.” You squeezed the rosary between your fingers, watching as he bent down once again, but this time to grab his cassock and Roman collar. You stood silently as he buttoned it up and placed the white collar around his neck. He straightened the fabric with his hands, before meeting your eyes.

“You look quite a mess, dearest, you’d better go home and clean yourself.”

Your hand flew up to your face where dried blood was caked on your chin and around your mouth, and you felt a blush creep up your neck at his words; he did not look any better. Despite it, you nodded, shifting on your feet as you thanked him once again, “I cannot express how thankful I am, Alastor, truly. You, uh, you should probably get cleaned up too; people would probably wonder why there’s blood smeared on their priest’s face.” The man chuckled and nodded before bending down to grab your coat, handing it to you once he straightened up. You took it and quickly slipped it on, putting the rosary in one of the pockets.

You clasped your hands together and bit down your bottom lip as the man put a hand against your back and urged you to walk with him. You walked down the main aisle silently, stopping once you had reached the end of it. You turned to him and opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it, “Go, now. Enjoy your newly found purity.” You smiled and dipped your chin once; he grinned back, “I will see you tomorrow, though I am hoping you will not walk back in here with that same pitiful expression you had earlier.”

You let out a small laugh as you gestured that you agreed before giving him one last glance and turning around, walking towards the door. You could feel his stare burn holes in your back but ignore the feeling, pushing against the door and stepping outside, the sunlight momentarily blinding you. You sighed loudly, looking around to make sure no one was close; the last thing you wanted was someone seeing you limp, your face bloody. You began to make your way back home, ignoring the way your thighs stuck together from your and Alastor’s bodily fluids. You thought about his words, and strangely, you found yourself disagreeing; you hoped the faceless man would come back. You had tasted true goodness, the powerful and unconditional love and mercy of God, and you wanted more of it.

[opencommunion]

"In the twenty-first century, nothing is more indicative of U.S. empire than the global reach of the U.S. military. Much of this power comes from its approximately 800 military bases located in around eighty countries, accounting for about 95 percent of the world’s foreign military bases. No other country comes close to the U.S. level of worldwide military control. ... The United States probably has more military bases than any other empire in history, yet most Americans remain largely ignorant of their numbers and location. The history of these bases is an imperial history, tied to war, occupation, and military expansion. Wherever the U.S. military has gone bases have usually followed, giving the United States an ongoing presence long after the war or occupation is over.

The creation of bases has accompanied each wave of U.S. expansion. Military forts enabled continental conquest—255 in total—which functioned as foreign bases on land that was often still controlled by Native peoples. These forts operated as the military outposts of settler-colonialism and were targeted by Native peoples as violations of territorial integrity. The War of 1898 and subsequent occupation of overseas colonies resulted in a global basing system, and by 1938 the United States had fourteen military bases outside its continental borders in Puerto Rico, Cuba, Panama, the Virgin Islands, Hawaii, Midway, Wake, Guam, the Philippines, Shanghai, the Aleutians, American Samoa, and Johnston Island. ... The explosion of foreign bases during World War II would be followed by surges during the Korean War, the War in Vietnam, and the Wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, showing that wars and occupations continue to expand U.S. territory, even if the form of those acquisitions has shifted since the days of settler-colonialism and annexation. The contemporary number, which hovers around 800 to 900, is still an impressive network that places the military within striking distance of every spot on the globe. Historian Bruce Cumings calls the modern form of U.S. empire an 'archipelago empire,' small islands of U.S. control from which power can be projected anywhere in the world. It has become increasingly difficult to tell where the boundaries of the United States begin and where they end.

... For most U.S. citizens these bases are either invisible or accepted as a natural part of our national security apparatus. David Vine argues that Americans 'consider the situation normal and accept that US military installations exist in staggering numbers in other countries, on other peoples’ land. On the other hand, the idea that there would be foreign bases on US soil is unthinkable.'"

Stefan Aune, "American Empire," in At War: The Military and American Culture in the Twentieth Century and Beyond, 2018

Map source

[grimmcodes]

Thème n°1 (gratuit)

Niveau d'installation : ⭐⭐⭐

(prérequis : être un minimum à l'aise avec le codage de manière générale et l'hébergement externe d'une feuille de CSS)

➡️ Ce thème a été élaboré à partir du Blank Theme de Geniuspanda. ⚠️ Merci de créditer les personnes citées dans ce post ! ❓ Pourquoi il est gratuit ? → Et pourquoi pas ? Je ne demande rien de plus qu'un sujet où sont répertoriés tous les crédits ainsi qu'un petit mp pour savoir que vous utilisez le thème ! ✅ Vous pouvez utiliser entièrement ou partiellement le thème, selon ce qui vous intéresse en fait (du moment que les crédits sont conservés, j'insiste !). Vous pouvez le modifier comme vous le voulez, qu'il s'agisse des couleurs, des formes, des tailles (pitié, restez juste un minimum lisibles même si j'aurais clairement pu faire beaucoup mieux), polices... c'est open bar ! 🗒️Le CSS global est trop long pour être copié/collé directement dans la feuille de forumactif. Je vous conseille de l'héberger sur archivehost ou dropbox et de rajouter un lien vers celui-ci dans votre overall_header. N'hésitez pas à me mp si vous n'êtes pas à l'aise avec l'installation, je vais faire au mieux pour vous orienter ! Autrement, le Blank Theme explique comment s'y prendre juste ici : https://blankthemerpg.forumactif.com/t141-heberger-du-css-exterieur Il comporte : • La base du Blank Theme en modernbb (en configurant votre forum avec les paramètres associés) • Le plugin Messenger d'Ange Tuteur remanié par Geniuspanda, Switcheroo et le mode Edison clair/sombre réalisés par Monomer. • Une page d'accueil • Les catégories • La liste des sujets et l'apparence des sujets • L'apparence du profil • La liste des membres • La liste des messages privés et l'apparence d'un message privé • Une série de codages (fiche de présentation avec onglets, fiche utilisable pour rédiger ses annexes, fiche utilisable pour les posts administratif comme le règlement etc...) • Un set Instagram (profil, posts, like, suivre, commenter, story) • Un set de type Tinder (profil, like, super-like, match, pas intéressé) • Un set de 10 fiches de rp aux couleurs du forum (adaptable au mode noir/clair) ainsi qu'un codage pour l'apparence de vos sms • Un set de 5 signatures aux couleurs du forum 📌 Vous trouverez le forum où les codages ont été utilisés juste ici. Il s'agit d'un forum rpg que j'ai monté en décembre 2023 mais qu'on a fermé en mars 2024 avec ma co-admin. Les inscriptions sont fermées mais vous pouvez au moins y retrouver l'apparence globale de ce qui est proposé sur les captures d'écran. ⚠️ La police de base est Nunito Sans, sans-serif (font google) et celle des titres Cloister Blacklight (par Dieter Steffmann et à héberger de votre côté en sortant les fichiers nécessaires (.ttf, .wof + css) sur fontsquirrel par exemple). Il se peut que vous observiez des déformations si vous n'utilisez pas Nunito Sans puisqu'une police n'est pas précisément la même en taille de l'une à l'autre selon comment elle a été conçue. ⚠️ Le forum n'est d'ailleurs pas vraiment à 200% responsive... oups. Mais les couleurs sont facilement gérables dans le :root, autant pour le thème clair que le thème sombre. 🔧 En ce qui concerne les paramètres personnalisés : - bien afficher la liste des membres connectés et avec une période de 72 heures. - ne pas afficher la connexion rapide. - ne pas cocher la case optimiser votre css - cocher la case désactiver le css de base 🔧 En ce qui concerne l'ordre des champs du profil :

🔧 En ce qui concerne les posts administratifs sans que le profil admin n'apparaisse : Il faut que votre compte Administrateur (celui avec lequel vous avez fondé le forum) ait pour rang <span class="Administrateur">Administrateur</span>.

➡️ VOUS RETROUVEREZ LES CODES ICI : https://github.com/Practless/theme1/

➡️ ET ICI UN PETIT TUTORIEL D'INSTALLATION PAS À PAS : https://www.tumblr.com/grimmcodes/755161796494737408/tutoriel-installation?source=share

Et voilà ! Normalement vous devriez avoir l'exact même rendu. ⭐ La plupart des codages n'ont pas été nettoyés et laissés comme sur le forum rpg où ils ont été construits (avec les textes, les images etc... oui, j'ai eu la flemme, pardon hein mais c'était trop long d'y refaire un tour pour tout nettoyer...🧍‍♀️Peut-être qu'un jour j'vais y penser. Ou pas.) Note à savoir : je ne suis pas professionnelle, j'ai appris sur le tas et avec des tutoriels sur le net. Donc c'est sûrement le bazar, fait avec les pieds, pas optimisé et j'en passe. N'hésitez pas à me contacter si vous observez des problèmes. 🍀 Débizou si consentis et vive le rp francophone 🍉🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️💗

[she-is-ovarit]

Ukrainian saboteurs who are alleged to have poisoned and killed 46 Russian soldiers are on the run in annexed Crimea after a shoot-out with police, a local report says. Two young saboteurs who had poisoned members of the Russian military in Simferopol and Bakhchisarai fled when authorities attempted to detain them in Crimea, Telegram channel Kremlin Snuffbox said on Tuesday. The police went to apprehend the female suspects at a private house in Yalta but were surprised to find them "well armed" and "well prepared," the post said.

The saboteurs opened fire and fled the scene in a car, and authorities do not know their current whereabouts. Three officers were killed and two were wounded in the shoot-out, a source in Russia's Federal Security Service told the Telegram channel. It was reported in December that members of a Ukrainian partisan group called Crimean Combat Seagulls poisoned and killed 24 Russian soldiers after lacing their vodka with arsenic and strychnine. At the time, Snuffbox quoted unnamed sources as saying that "two nice girls" tricked the unit in Simferopol, Crimea, into drinking the vodka, per the Kyiv Post translation. In another incident, saboteurs killed 18 and hospitalized 14 Russian personnel in Bakhchisarai, Crimea, by putting arsenic and rat poison in pies and beer, Kremlin Snuffbox previously reported. Russian military personnel stationed in Crimea have been asked not to take any food or any drinks from strangers and to detain any suspicious young women who approach them to prevent further incidents of poisoning. Business Insider could not independently verify the report. There were also been reports of two mass poisonings of Russian troops in Mariupol in 2023. Acts of sabotage by Ukrainian resistance and partisan groups are used to harass Russian soldiers in Crimea, the Ukrainian peninsula occupied by Russia since 2014, and other occupied territories, and supply intelligence for Ukrainian strikes on military installations.

[shirecorn]

Really enjoy your work! Do you have any thoughts on sex/gender in pony society? Since in canon there are very few male characters there's some fan theories they have a different sex ratio. Or in the more speculative biology space they could just not have the same level/kind of dimorphism as humans.

Sex ratio is an interesting phenomenon! Deer can be anywhere from equal to twice as many females. Female horses throw more fillies as they get older. And Pegasus are made up.

Since my "ponies" are 3 different species, they all have different biological histories, including sex ratios. But at this point in time, the ratios are about 1:1, equally "Mares" and "Stallions" Stallions tend to be more physically powerful than mares, but not to the point of looking particularly different.

POLITICS, however, is still very much affected by gender.

In Skyscraper Gods Equestria, society is currently equalizing to be more open and flexible after centuries of matriarchal rule. Mares are seen as more fit to rule because they are closer to the feminine goddesses, and Equestria is a theocracy with rulers (often female) appointed by god. Smaller governments and towns who elect and appoint officials tend towards mares as well, with stallion mayors still being the first of their kind in some places.

Though it hasn't happened yet (that society knows of) there is nothing that prevents a stallion from being eligible for godhood. Rather, it is something that goddesses have only chosen to bestow on mares so far. This is a self-perpetuating system, as less stallions being in leadership positions means less candidates for the gods to pick from, and less stallion leaders make society think they are less capable than mares.

Equestria is the favored land of the Gods that control the sun, moon, love, and friendship, but they are not the only gods in the world (though nationalism will try to convince you otherwise)

Outside Equestria, species other than ponies dominate. They have their own systems of governments (theocracy, monarchy, oligarchy, democracy, plutocracy, etc) that are not based on Equestrian Goddess' will or genders. Many populations of griffons are male-dominated, rooted in sexual dimorphism.

The Crystal Empire vanished before the rise of the Goddesses Sun and Moon. When they came back with thousand-year-old citizens, they were immediately annexed by modern-day Equestria, which installed their own ruler (The Princess of Love) into the power vacuum left by King Sombra. She serves Equestrian interests, but will one day be convinced to step down by the Princess of Friendship in favor crystal pony officials elected by their own people.

TLDR: male and female ponies occur at the same rate, but females are more prominent due Equestria's matriarchy (which itself is due to the known gods being feminine)

[discworldwitches]

This decision was preceded by a "round table" with Russian officials and collaborators from the temporarily occupied territories, where supposedly the experience of countries in which private hospitals "voluntarily refused" to perform abortions was reviewed.

Quote: "The private clinics’ heads were asked to contribute to the demographic situation improvement by refusing to perform abortions. The colleagues positively evaluated this initiative, and today all private clinics in Crimea have officially informed the Crimean Ministry of Health of their voluntary refusal to provide abortion services," Skorupsky noted.

Officials in Russia-annexed Crimea say private clinics have stopped providing abortions

Over his more than two decades in power, Putin has forged a powerful alliance with the Russian Orthodox Church and has put “traditional family values,” as well as boosting the country's declining population, at the cornerstone of his policies.

As part of the effort, authorities in several Russian regions in recent months sought to convince private clinics to stop terminating pregnancies. In Tatarstan in central Russia, officials said about a third have agreed to stop offering abortions; in the Chelyabinsk region in the Ural mountains, several clinics did as well. In the westernmost region of Kaliningrad, local legislators said they were mulling a ban for private clinics.

A nationwide ban is also something lawmakers and Russia's Health Ministry are contemplating, alleging that private clinics frequently violate existing regulations restricting access to abortion.

State statistics show that private clinics in Russia, where free, state-funded health care is available to all citizens, accounted for about 20% of all abortions in recent years. Some women who shared their experiences in pro-abortion online communities said they preferred private clinics where they could get an appointment faster, conditions were better and doctors did not pressure them to continue the pregnancy.

Crimea's Russian-installed health minister, Konstantin Skorupsky, said in an online statement that private clinics on the peninsula some time ago "offered to contribute to improving the demographic situation by giving up providing abortions,” and as of Thursday, all of them had done so.

His statement did not mention the city of Sevastopol, which is administered separately, and it was unclear if private clinics there were still providing abortions.

Two chains of private clinics in Crimea contacted by The Associated Press on Thursday by phone confirmed they no longer provide abortions, citing orders from the management or the authorities. One said it's been about a month since they stopped offering the procedure to women.

[bolding my own]

the use of “demographic situation” is so vile & so clearly colonial

[carionto]

Just a little push

The conflict between Humanity and the United Federation was in it's early slow stages. After the rather unexpected attack on the symbolic Death Kebab there was a lot of buzz and light skirmishes in the nearby systems, but no noteworthy confrontation.

The placement of the Death Kebab was provocative by design, and with both sides so far away from one another, there could not be any mass fleet formation without plenty of advance notice. Special operations units, however, are everywhere.

Unlike Humanity, who currently only has Earth as a planet under their direct control and with a notable population, the Federation is vast - core worlds surrounded by buffer manufacturing and agriculture and all manner of other production focused systems, which themselves are further surrounded out by new colonies, annexed planets, "contract" aka slave worlds.

Getting close to Earth without being spotted by any number of civilian organizations is nigh impossible, and when you count the military intelligence and surveillance networks, there's hardly an atom that remains unregistered. Certain people with, let's say, less than honest intentions, still manage to find ways to keep their activities hidden. For a while at least.

These kinds of skills, when employed by a trained operative with the highest grade equipment, make them virtually invisible everywhere else. A poorly guarded third-rate mining colony? Why, with just a little preparation, you could float an entire Dreadnought up to their atmosphere before they noticed. Assuming they would even care after offering a slightly more lucrative deal than the Federation.

For this particular mission, however, they would care.

Vrontaria was a very productive system with nearly a dozen orbital shipyards and hundreds of mining, processing, and export operations that account for roughly 4% of the entire Federation military hardware supply, and nearly a fifth of all their capital ship production. Thus, it was quite heavily guarded, with every nearby system monitored for any suspicious activity.

What they didn't monitor all too well were the mostly useless planets and moons within the Vrontaria system itself. Of particularly little interest was the resident gas giant - Omk.

And why would anyone bother regularly scanning the interior of a gas giant for foreign matter, everyone knows entering the "atmosphere" of a gas giant will just crush everything. Right?

*glances sideways*

:D

It took the better part of a month, but the special unit managed to covertly install about five thousand gravitational pulse thrusters and all necessary power generators within the upper layer of Omk, but just far enough below the storms to make their activity not make any visible change. For comparison, one such thruster can accelerate an entire Dreadnought. Slowly, sure, which is why they have at least 6 to be able to maneuver, and Omk was not the largest gas giant in the Galaxy, about two thirds of Jupiter.

So, one day not long after, someone on Ja'Ulnika, the main planet of the Vrontaria system, noticed that Omk was a little bit further along its orbital path than it should be.

Concerning.

Then they took more precise measurements and realized it was going faster than before.

Very concerning.

Finally, they had someone go up to it and then they noticed all of the thrust force coming from one side of it, changing its orbit to get far too close to Ja'Ulnika for comfort.

Panic inducing to say the least.

By the time a full force of combat ships arrived to sort out this mess and start disabling all these planet-moving thrusters, scans showed they had self-destructed. Even if they had the ability to retrieve anything from the inside of a gas giant, at this point it would be worthless scraps.

The final orbit of Omk would put it on a course to capture Ja'Ulnika in its gravitational well in two years time and take it along for a joyride to orbits outside the habitable zone, rendering it inhospitable in around 5-6 years. Not to mention the carnage tides would cause on a world without its own moon. Or any other catastrophic events that might occur when a planet is essentially kidnapped into a becoming moon.

Wars are fought on many fronts. inevitable devastation and unavoidable future reduction in capacity force you to act in ways you would rather not. Sometimes creating a logistical nightmare that your enemy has to deal with no matter what can be the greatest killing blow that a swift and spectacular showdown space battle could never be.

[fast-moon]

DS9 Season 2 Thoughts

I've made it through the second season of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine after missing out on it during its original run due to being too young to understand it at the time. Let's see how it holds up now!

1. The Homecoming: Kira goes to rescue a Bajoran prisoner who she hopes can unify the planet, but it turns out all the legends about him are just that, and he's just some guy who's not up to the task. But Sisko knows how religious people work, and insists he play the part anyway, since they won't be bothered about whether any claims about him are real or not.

2. The Circle: The plot continues to be too real as a government official conspires with the leader of a small but vocal conservative religious sect to use terrorism to overthrow the government and install themselves. Even the more liberal religious leader still has naughty fantasies.

3. The Siege: The three-parter misses the landing by naively believing that religious extremists attempting to overthrow the government would actually reconsider if shown proof that they're secretly being funded by an enemy power who wants to use them to destabilize the country.

4. Invasive Procedures: Okay, seriously, is Dax just utterly emotionally dissociated from her current body? She shrugs off constant sexual harassment and objectification, she was indifferent about being executed for a crime she didn't commit, she didn't treat Bashir's sexualized replica of her as any kind of violation, and now she's like, "Welp, this guy wants my liver squid. Oh well, bye, guys." Also, I get that Quark's an entertaining POS, but there are certain things he's done that he really should be facing consequences for.

5. Cardassians: Our fabulous Cardassian tailor returns! I'm not sure how I feel about sending the kid back with his bio dad, but if it had ended with him staying with his adoptive family, I'm not sure how I would have felt about that, either. It was a crap situation for that poor kid either way.

6. Melora: The station crew trip over themselves trying to improve the accessibility of the station for a new special needs crew member. Gosh, if only they were that worried about its accessibility for their permanent crew member who still has to contort himself into unnatural shapes on a daily basis in order to utilize its systems. #JusticeForOdo

7. Rules of Acquisition: Quark's new business partner starts hitting on him. His partner then turns out to be a woman, which actually ends up making it even more scandalous.

8. Necessary Evil: Oh, cool, a film noir episode that shows what the station was like under Cardassian rule. Quark finally gets some comeuppance but is saved by plot armor. Odo explores his inner Columbo. He was also apparently a lab subject and then a sideshow attraction before Gul Dukat hired him as security, so good lord, someone give this poor slime a break.

9. Second Sight: A woman in an unhappy marriage literally dreams up a self-insert OC to pair with Sisko.

10. Sanctuary: An entire nation of refugees comes through the wormhole and demands to settle on Bajor because it's their holy promised land. They get denied, then get pissy because one deeply religious group annexing territory from another deeply religious group and then having to live side-by-side has historically worked out so well in the past.

11. Rivals: Prince Humperdinck brings aboard a gatcha game that breaks the universe's RNG.

12. The Alternate: It's finally Odo's turn to get infected with the crazypox that he usually has to save everyone else from. Although, even without the crazypox as an excuse, I think he's earned the right to throw a violent temper tantrum after all the bullshit he's had to put up with. Also, "Wasn't that pillar over here before?" "It was in my way; I had it moved." is living rent-free in my brain due to how deliberate the inclusion of this exchange was yet how utterly pointless it ended up being. A red herring is one thing, but the entire pillar subplot simply vanished entirely following this scene and it left me so confused.

13. Armageddon Game: Aliens gift Sisko a deepfake video of how they would have killed O'Brien and Bashir if they were actually halfway competent about it.

14. Whispers: O'Brien becomes paranoid that everyone is conspiring against him, and it turns out he's right. Nice subtle touch to having him repeatedly order coffee throughout the episode, since his coffee habits in the previous episode were what initially clued them in that he was a fake.

15. Paradise: Sisko: "Excuse me, are y'all with the cult?" Alixus: "We're not a cult, we're an isolated commune that rejects technology and--" Sisko: "Yeah, this is it."

16. Shadowplay: Odo and Dax figure out everyone in the village is a hologram because the episode title gave it away. Also, I really hope that Odo remains aro-ace and the rest of the crew come to respect that, instead of constantly teasing him about his lack of a sex life and ultimately forcing him into thinking he needs a relationship to be happy. He already has to contort himself into uncomfortable shapes to conform. Don't force him to contort into conformity any further. #JusticeForOdo

17. Playing God: Huh. So there are rats on space stations. Also, Dax discovers a potentially universe-destroying proto-universe and decides to dump it in the Gamma Quadrant for them to deal with.

18. Profit and Loss: Quark teaches us that when a woman says "no", she really means "yes" if you hound and threaten her long enough.

19. Blood Oath: Curzon Dax continues to posthumously make me question Sisko's choice in friends, as Jadzia Dax now feels obligated to attend a Klingon murder party that Curzon RSVP'd to.

20-21. The Maquis: Humans set up colonies next to a known bear cave, whine that the Federation won't protect them from the bears, start an anti-bear movement.

22. The Wire: Bashir goes into a panic after his boyfriend ODs. Honestly, Bashir really needs to stop chasing women and recognize he has way more chemistry with Garak. He's always been annoyingly shallow and self-serving to the point that I wouldn't trust him as a doctor no matter how skilled he was. But this episode actually let him give a damn about someone without objectifying them, which is good progress. Hopefully it sticks. Also, Sisko's proclamation to keep Quark locked up "forever" in the previous episode didn't seem to last very long. But at least now I know where the "Especially the lies" meme comes from!

23. Crossover: Bashir learned nothing from the previous episode and goes right back to womanizing and talking incessantly about himself. Damn. Kira's meets her mirror universe counterpart who instantly falls in love with her, which... same.

24. The Collaborator: The liberals lose the election because they're more concerned with their candidate being 100% unproblematic than preventing the entire planet from falling under the rule of a goddamn religious tyrant. (throws table in a fit of "this is too real")

25. Tribunal: O'Brien goes on vacation to Planet Kangaroo Court, which is actually a bit more relaxing than what he usually has to put up with.

26. The Jem'Hadar: are truly truly truly outrageous. And really want to meet a Klingon, and I know we're getting Worf eventually because he's on the series splash screen. But until then, bring on the Dominion!

I found Season 2 generally a bit better than Season 1. I was really uncomfortable with Bashir in Season 1, and he was a bit more tolerable in Season 2. Downright redeemed in "The Wire", then he regressed immediately in the next episode, so I still have a fairly low opinion of him. Dax is another character I'm having trouble caring about since even after two seasons I still have no clear idea of "What would Dax do?" in any hypothetical situation.

Like, if a bunch of monkeys got loose on the station, I can imagine that Sisko would order a containment field and then go monkey-hunting with Kira, who would spend the whole time exasperated like, "Really?! Monkeys?!" O'Brien would technobabble together a monkey trap while grumbling about how this sort of thing always happens to him, Bashir would tell a long-winded story about how there was a similar incident with Emus back at the academy and how much of an adventure it was and he ended up saving the day and then a bunch of women were swooning all over him, Quark would stash a couple of monkeys away to sell later, and Odo would have grumpily already rounded them all up because he's the only competent crew member (and relieving Quark of his monkey stash). And Dax would just... kind of stand there I guess. Maybe quip about how one of her previous incarnations had a monkey. But she just doesn't have enough of a notable personality for me to go, "Yep, that's a Dax thing to do, all right." So far she still feels uncomfortably like a fetish character with little actual substance.

Also, the depiction of the Universal Translator analyzing a new language in "Sanctuary" made me even more perplexed as to how it even works. So, they started out speaking an unknown language, and over the course of the episode, the UT learned it and started translating it. Okay, cool. Except that implies that the aliens -- and probably everyone on the station -- are all actually still speaking their native languages and the UT is just real-time translating them all. But how does this work in a conversation? If Sisko speaks to Kira and Quark, how do they both hear something they can understand? Where even is the UT? They'll beam down to a planet and lose all their equipment but can still communicate with everyone fine. And how does the UT know to stop translating, like when someone will yell in Klingon for one sentence and then switch back to English?

I wonder if there's ever an episode where the Universal Translator malfunctions and everyone has to figure out how to communicate with each other. Heck, might be an opportunity for Dax to actually do something since she's the one most likely to be a polyglot.

Anyway, on to Season 3!

[pumpingstationsuk]

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[sofia-in-nc]

WIP WHENEVER

Tagged by @olath124 and @ouroboros-hideout

Modding:

Making my own mods is a very new thing for me. I usually just download from Nexus and install various mods to the game, but to actually tweak the game through my own effort is a different experience. Sure, I can design, animate and strategize a plan that could potentially annex a whole country, but to be honest, my brain just goes brrr when it comes down to technical stuff. It’s a weakness, I must say.

Here is my progress at modding for which I am happy with how it is turning out. A friend of mine from college asked if I could come up with a different take on the CP2077 campaign, but instead of doing that, I decided to start a Myers election campaign.

Despite having no clue with where to start, I posed a challenge to myself by digging through the game file on Wolvenkit to obtain the materials I wanted to change. The Palladia Center billboard was the most amusing thing to edit so far, while the ads that are scattered around the city were quite a surprise, so to speak. Especially the ones that look static from afar but animate in close proximity as the workaround for these is different from the other texture files I’ve edited. The Milfgaard atlas file came in handy for this project! 😂

I just love how modding this game taps on both sides of my brain, although admittedly, I lack on the technical side.

Virtual Photography

Yesterday, I decided to try Frans Bouma’s Reshade. I am strict with the medium I use for editing– avoiding to subject myself to numerous tools simultaneously since I want to master things one at a time. For virtual photography, I approach this department the most basic way: vanilla shots > Adobe Lightroom > ✨cinematics✨ However, I realized that this is not enough, so now I am trying to learn Reshade to amp my shots. Also, I am considering upgrading my pc as it is a potato for the time being.

Writing/VP Storytelling

If you’ve been following my posts, by now, you’d sense my evident obsession with Kusie and visualizing them in the most romantically tragic way possible.

I don’t write– well not anymore, but one of my plans is to connect all of my shots and weave a tragic plot for this troglocouple. The goal: to punch viewers in the gut (jk… or not) No, really, my goal with this is to approach virtual photography with an all too familiar method, which is film making, but technically different because the final outputs are just static images. I want viewers to feel as if they’re watching a movie, being present at the scene, to be at the center of tension between Rosalind and Kurt.

Welp, that’s it for now!

Tagging without pressure @cybervesna @cyberholic77 @awwwokay @dustymagpie @reilleclan-blog @barghestapologist @streetkid-named-desire @wanderingaldecaldo

[coolskeleton59]

[Read Negative #13’s file]

[* You read the file for NEGATIVE #13.]

NEGATIVE FILE - #13

CLASS: GAMMA

NEGATIVITY

Unresponsive to full re-acclimation, both invasive and non-invasive. Displays violent tendencies, hysteria, and a disregard for the safety of others or himself.

PHYSICAL

5'2" tall, average GAMMA-CLASS physique. Height and build are disarming- #13 fits into small spaces with ease and moves very quickly. Do not lose visual.

#13 possesses saliva with an acidity that can range from 1.1 pH to 3 at will. Contact with saliva can cause effects ranging from chemical burns to paralysis. Feature was not developed by RYSCORP and was implemented by previous handler.

#13 has an internal device installed by previous handlers which punishes both excessive emotional responses and magic use via electric shock. RYSCORP has deemed this enhancement unnecessary for removal. #13 also possesses a metal implant around the jaw and occipital bone which is intended for use as a muzzle to ensure employee safety during examinations. Metal implant has been damaged by #13. Muzzle deemed unnecessary due to advancements in personal safety equipment. RYSCORP has deemed the damaged implant unnecessary for removal.

DEMEANOR

Prior to re-acclimation attempt #84, #13 was shut off, combative, and refused to cooperate or provide information to improve care. Post-attempt #84, [see tape log 097 for footage], subject responded incorrectly to treatment and has displayed erratic, hysteric behavior since. The results are irreversible.

Post-attempt, #13 still carries these traits, but actively instigates and irritates staff during examinations. On the rare occasion that #13 is amicable during inspections or procedures, attitude changes rapidly and can cycle through the full emotional spectrum for no discernible reason. #13 is amused when himself or others are in pain, no matter it physical or emotional, and displays irregular speech patterns that are interrupted with laughing fits.

HISTORY

#13 was acquired via annexation of NEOTERICO. #13 had been in NEOTERICO's possession for an indeterminate amount of time due to poor record keeping on their part. RYSCORP's estimate is, at the minimum, five years.

For full procedural history, see MEDBAY FILES.

[odinsblog]

In the coming days/weeks, you’re going to hear a lot about how Ukraine should accept the terms of surrender (as that’s what they are) offered by Russia—how they’d be “stupid” not to, how Zelenskyy should “do the right thing for his people” and prioritize saving lives, how peace should be the priority and we can’t always get what we want.

Make no mistake: even if Russia intends to uphold these terms once Zelenskyy accepts them, this is a terrible deal for Ukraine and a terrible deal for the world.

First of all, there’s no guarantee that Russia will respect a cease fire or peace treaty. Obviously that’s always the case with war, but it’s especially the case when they’ve already violated multiple cease fire agreements by firing on and murdering evacuating civilians, including children. So there’s your peace treaty.

Second, the terms that Russia has presented include virtually all of Putin’s actual goals for this illegal invasion (obviously “de-Nazification” and “de-militarization” were just lies à la “weapons of mass destruction,” a rhetorical tactic that really ought to be familiar to any self-respecting American leftist). Ukraine would forfeit its claim on the territories Russia has already illegally annexed/recognized, it would be forced to change its constitution (!!!) to commit to never joining any “pacts” (EU, NATO, anything else that forms in the future), and it would retain Zelenskyy as a figurehead while installing a pro-Russian actual government leadership.

This is—and I cannot stress this enough—not a “compromise” or a “peace treaty.” It’s terms of surrender. And the lesson learned here is that Russia can continue invading and terrorizing sovereign states without any actual consequences—remember, Putin doesn’t personally care about Western sanctions. He doesn’t care if his people are plunged into poverty as long as he and his cronies aren’t, and they won’t be. He’s furious about the sanctions because he finds them personally offensive and because they confirm his victim complex, not because he’s legitimately worried for his people like Zelenskyy is.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, Putin has made it extremely clear that he seeks to rebuild a Russian empire. He will not stop with Crimea, Luhansk, and Donetsk. (And make no mistake—Luhansk and Donetsk are not independent sovereign states like Ukraine; they’re simply Russian satellites.) He will not stop with forced regime change in Belorus, Georgia, Syria, and Ukraine. (And even if he did—isn’t that awful enough?) He is not “concerned about Russia’s security” or “worried about NATO’s encroachment” or whatever his extensive social media operation has you believing. He’s not concerned or worried about anything. He’s a dictator expanding his empire. He is exactly what you all feared Trump was.

I believe that this “offer” from Russia to Ukraine serves two purposes, and neither of them is to establish a lasting peace and autonomy for each country. One is to give Putin a potential way to back out of a war that has already gone much worse than he expected and cost him significantly in terms of personnel and equipment. (Not the sanctions—like I said, I don’t think he personally cares about the sanctions and in fact sees them as a political tool to use to his advantage.)

The second and more important goal is to create a way for the international community to blame Ukraine for the continued war. “If you’d just accept the terms, you could save your people and prevent nuclear war.” It’s absolutely classic DARVO tactics that, again, any progressive activist should be familiar with. “Sure, it’s not your fault he attacked you, but you shouldn’t have reported it, made a big deal of it, gotten him ‘cancelled,’ made it public, etc.”

It’s not Ukraine’s responsibility to “prevent nuclear war.” Ukraine gave up its nuclear weapons in exchange for protection—protection that it has not received, although Western aid and military assistance has undoubtedly been helpful. Placing responsibility on Ukraine to accept unjust terms and illegal annexation of its land in order to “prevent nuclear war” only lends credence to the claim that only nuclear weapons can keep a country truly safe—after all, it would mean that Putin’s nuclear threats have allowed him to invade his neighbors, terrorize their citizens, destroy their resources, replace their democratically elected leaders with his own puppets, and steal their land—without even having to make any concessions himself.

So here’s my plea to my American progressive/leftist siblings. Please question what you think you know about Putin, Russia, and Ukraine. There are certainly far-right and neo-Nazi political forces in Ukraine as there are in any country, but Zelenskyy is a progressive, democratically elected JEWISH president. NATO and the EU have their (serious) issues, but they have not pressured or forced any former Soviet states to join—in fact, prior to this war, it seemed unlikely that Ukraine would be admitted. Ukraine WANTED to join to protect itself from Russia, which had already illegally annexed its land, empowered far-right groups within its borders, and forced regime changes in surrounding countries.

Putin is not an anti-imperialist revolutionary; he denounces American imperialism because it’s convenient for him politically and it keeps the American left from putting pressure on our government to divest from Russia. Sure, maybe the Democrats oversold Russian election hacking as an explanation for Trump’s win (although the more I learn about the extent of Russia’s disinfo campaign, the more I question this common leftist talking point), but that doesn’t mean that Putin isn’t bent on conquering Eastern Europe and subduing Western powers by any means necessary. This goes far beyond American electoral politics, and the answers here do not conform to American party lines. Do not fall into the trap of dismissing politicians’ statements about Putin and Russia just because you disagree with the rest of their stances.

Putin is a dictator. Sometimes it really is that simple. A former KGB agent, he came to power by staging the modern Russian version of the Reichstag fire (look up “Russian apartment bombings”), using that as an excuse to start a war and win it, and he has maintained his power through strong-arming and terror. The State Duma is entirely symbolic at this point; anyone who goes against Putin knows that they are likely not only to die, but to die horribly, just like Alexei Navalny almost did not long ago (look up “Novichok” and prepare yourself for some body horror).

I could go on. I won’t right now. But in truth, I deeply regret the fact that I haven’t done more over the past 8 or so years to disrupt the blatant Putinist propaganda I hear from a lot of my fellow progressives. I had other priorities and I didn’t give it the attention I should’ve. To be clear: nothing America or American progressives could’ve done would’ve stopped this war, only delayed it or hastened it. The war was inevitable because Putin wants to conquer Ukraine, and beyond.

So I’ll just say—please, please listen to people who fled Russia/the Soviet Union, and to experts who study Russia. The most likely threat here isn’t a nuclear WWIII; this isn’t about you. The thing people like me fear most is simply that Putin will continue subjugating, terrorizing, and ultimately conquering innocent citizens of sovereign states, and that the West will eventually just accept this as the price of nuclear deterrence.

I’m not a political scientist; I don’t know how to stop this war. All I know is that Ukrainian surrender isn’t it. Listen to Ukrainians, anti-Putin Russians, and other experts, form your own opinion, and most importantly, keep your wits about you. Not everyone in this world is a good faith negotiating partner. Some people are, unfortunately, just evil. Hitler was, Stalin was, Putin is.

(source)

[eldritch-spouse]

To Hudd, if he’s still chatting-

“I guess as a human I don’t get to think about it all that often. We’ve got nothing but misinformation floating around up here about the topic.

Like the Betrayer you mentioned. A siadar? Who created perdition? I’m just going to assume that’s where the Christians got the lucifer idea. (I face palm, clearly embarrassed)

(Then I perk up). Hey, can I ask you about that? Do demons know more about the siadar who created perdition? I heard that they were destroyed by the first icons, but that seems so unlikely. Aren’t the siadar gods?

(Even more embarrassed), You don’t mind do you? I just, don’t think I’ve spoken face to face with a demon before. It’s exciting. And there’s so much cool stuff I could learn. I’d love to hear more about the Ring Wars.”

" It's being done on purpose. The truth is inconvenient for a lot of elites that have installed themselves in our society. History hits them in their Achilles' heel, so they rewrite it and disrespect it- Living their little illusions, then hunting you down for daring to utter their sins. The fucking scum of this planet. "

(He looks agitated.)

" Most demons tend to believe that there have always been Icons. They think the Rings just sort of formed one day! As if pulled out of the planet's ass- Can you fucking believe it?! I've read theories where they describe some sort of disturbance in the Earth itself causing the creation of the Rings as separate annexes. It's... Depressing. "

" Indeed, humans may get a few points of merit here -Even if their perceptions of the Betrayer are all incoherent- In the sense that demons are actually the ones who tried to suppress his existence harder. "

(Hudsyn calms, wagging a pale finger at you.)

" Even your understanding of gods is skewed, see? Siadar can fall. Siadar can perish, just like you and I. They are capable of mistakes. We're living proof of their clumsiness. "

(The demonoid puffs up slightly, raising his voice and beaming at you.)

" Mind? Oh please, you've been a treat thus far - For a human. "

" I'm your first demon, hm? Well then, I must have a lot to live up to, such pressure. " (He jests.) " By all means, ask away... "

[putschki1969]

2024/06/22 Blog post by Wakana 横須賀ジブリ編その２！〜ラムネと油屋と運動会〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Yokosuka Ghibli Edition Part 2!〜A Ramune, a Bathhouse Aburaya and a Sports Competition〜

As mentioned in my last blog post, my friend and I went to see the “Toshio Suzuki and Ghibli Exhibition”. We were so engrossed by everything in the exhibition that we didn't notice we were thirsty💦 When we left the museum and took a little breather, we finally realised how incredibly thirsty we were!! We saw some Ramune being sold outside the museum and were immediately drawn to it🌊 It's been a while since I've had Ramune~♪ Cold Ramune!! When I was drinking it, it made me feel like I was part of a TV commercial for Pocari Sweat. "Hiyaaaaaaah~ I feel so revived". Ramune has never tasted better than on that day...Just imagine, sitting under the blue sky, a fizzy Ramune quenching your thirst and soothing your dry throat...it was too good... Everyone, please try it as well..😭✨

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣▽￣0)／

This time, I'll share "Yokosuka Ghibli Edition - Part 2" with you＼＼\\٩( 'ω' )و //／／! After leaving Yokosuka Museum of Art we hurried to Mikasa Terminal. My friend needed to run some errands in the afternoon so we had to part ways early...😭 She was also really looking forward to going to Sarushima so we are planning to come back someday soon✨

Now, this is what Mikasa Terminal looked like. Look at this huge banner for the "Bathhouse Aburaya Annex" When I went inside, the Ōtori-Sama were taking a bath🐤🐤🐤 There were no other visitors, so I asked the staff to take a picture for me🤗 (=> a picture of a woman traveling alone who also happens to be a hardcore Ghibli fan.) Next up you were able to play a Spirited Away AR game by holding onto the iPad that was installed in front of the big bathtub. When you look through the screen, some images will appear. (At one point, a note appeared which seemed to have been issued by Kamaji, when I clicked on it hot water came was splashing on the screen.) You have up to ten chances to take a picture! When No-Face suddenly appeared from afar, I was really surprised and took multiple photos! (Here are all the photos I took with the iPad. I was able to download them later) Anyway, it was a lot of fun 😂

After that, I went up to the second floor. Wow, it really did look like a bathhouse! Oshira-sama was not on the elevator with me. On the second floor, there was something called a "No-Face AR" but... I didn't really get how it was supposed to work *laughs* Initially, I thought I could become No-Face and control the images on the screen with my movements but that wasn't the case. I just watched money overflow endlessly from No-Face's hands and tried to scoop it up with my arms 😂 There was so much money... 🤣 (Maybe it wasn't that exciting because I had no one there with me)

Once I was finished there, I went to Sarushima but since this is the final part of me writing about my Ghibli adventures, I'd like to briefly share some photos of the stamp rally I did when I came back from Sarushima 😊Please forgive me, from here on out it's just a picture spam of me working hard to finish the stamp rally 😂😂 Thank you for your understanding 😂 First of all, I got the cardboard for the stamps at the Yokosuka Museum of Art!! ! Look! I was able to collect four stamps in total thanks to my willpower. Although I had collected the stamps, I didn't have the time or energy to go back to the place where I could get my prize stickers😂 It was too much to do in one day~🫠 It's a pretty large area😇 I got the first stamp at Mikasa Terminal! The second one was at Ichigo Yokosuka Port Market! It's pretty close to the terminal. There are many restaurants and souvenir shops in the large facility.😊I wanted to do one more stamp so I decided to take a short break. I had some cider😂 My energy was restored in just five minutes so I hurried to the next location! There it is😊 At Lawson😊 At that point, I was suddenly overcome with a mysterious fighting spirit that said, "you've come this far, you have to get another stamp!" Ignoring my exhaustion, I went to a final location. Here it is😊 MORE'S CITY at Yokosuka Chuo Station! Thank you, Chihiro, for waiting for me...😭✨ This felt like a true sports competition🤣🤣 I made it to the finish line safely!! But I felt completely drained on my way home😇

Al right, that's officially a wrap for "Yokosuka Ghibli Part 2"! I actually have a lot more photos from the Ghibli exhibition😂But I feel like it's time to stop now😂 I'll post them if I get the chance💓

I'll leave it at that for today!! The next Yokosuka blog post will be about Sarushima-Monkey Island!

See you soon~☆( *'▽'*)/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2024/06/27 Instagram post by Wakana