#commander hill icons

[mariocki]

A young Christopher Lee guest stars as dastardly Larry Spence - a rising star in the world of journalism, turned blackmailer and then murderer - in The Vise: The Final Column (1.16, ABC, 1955); the episode wasn't seen in the UK until 1963, as part of ITV drama anthology Tension

[textmel8r]

[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( fifth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugar mommy! reader , sugar baby! toji , mommy kink , drug + alcohol usage , smut drabble , submissive toji , soft sex , profanity

୨୧˚ an; guys… i don’t know what took over me when i wrote this one….im sorry ,, also yes drabble time, you all knew this would happen eventually don’t act surprised 🙄🙄🙄

come over and show me then

The last message Toji had sent you. He was bold, heart racing just the slightest bit when he thumbed that frightening, little arrow icon to send a text that would most likely change his whole relationship chemistry with you. You, the kind hearted woman who graced him with your undying benevolence and wealth. 

You, the woman Toji called mommy not even twelve hours ago during an idiotic, drunken stupor. 

You, the woman who graced his bed, peering up to him with the softest gaze Toji’d ever been observed with. It was an odd sight–you splayed on his mattress. Dawning a lavish top; silken, Toji absentmindedly recognizes the fabric ( then proceeds to grimace at the fact that he can actually discern between different breeds of fabric. Your lifestyle was rubbing off on him ) and thinks you look out of place. An expensive jewel among the dank cave of his shoddy bedroom.  

Toji crawls in after you, winding up your side, clinging akin to a baby koala bear. Still, he doesn’t speak, preferring to let the sounds of sheets sliding against each other fill the gaps of silence. You take his hulking body in those loving arms and break the quiet. “I’m not buying you for the night.” You cradle his cheek; you make him look up to you and Toji nods under your hand. “You know that, right?”

He nods again. “Sure,” and for once, it comes out without a modicum of sarcasm. Because Toji believes it when you tell him that you’re not looking to gain access to his body through flimsy transactions. Your sincerity is displayed through the months of torturous anticipation. Months of him on the cusp of begging–and Toji Fushiguro has never begged for anything in his goddamned miserable life. Your sincerity is displayed through the gingerness in which you hold his face. Because how could someone with such gentle hands ever tell a lie? And your sincerity is displayed through your words. You tell Toji things that nobody has ever told him before. Nice things, reassuring things despite his insistence on being an asshole to you.

Toji pushes his torso to be propped up on an elbow before he leans in. It’s not a tame first kiss by any means; Toji is mammalian in the way his teeth gnash yours and his tongue laves your cupid’s bow. “Slow,” you whisper in the short absence of his lips. “Slowly.” A command that he feels inclined to follow like some kept mutt, swapping out the animalistic pace with a more refined, controlled tempo. Your face was swallowed by two massive hands; they clamped on either side of your jaw, calloused and dry and forcefully pulling you closer. “Just like that, Toji.”

The way you say his name… Fuck. Toji grunts, swinging a heavy thigh over your own to situate between your legs. “I’ve never,” there's a pause when he leans in to suck the tip of your tongue, “been so desperate to be inside a woman.” His thick tongue worms back into your mouth, pushing smoky saliva down your throat. You were writhing; your hand slides over his, the one still tending to your cheek, and you guide it lower. He let you drag his hand down the smooth slope of your neck, over the hill of your delicate chest, across the plain of your soft tummy to meet the waistband of your designer pants. 

Your head tilts, something devious glinting in the colored rings of your eyes that have Toji so enchanted. He plucks at the brass button of your pants, nudging the point of his nose to the high of your cheekbone. Breathing in the luxury branded perfume that overpowered the cigarette stench still lingering in his room from his morning smoke; evidenced by the stub crumbled in the glass tray on his wobbly nightstand. “What about the girl…Girl from last night?” 

Toji smiles at the breathy question. “What girl?” He hums cheekily against your mouth, letting his tongue slip back through the seam of your delicious lips. You slap his face rather playful, but his breath hitches all the same.

“Dick.”

At last, he pops the button. The acrylic of your nails sink into the meat of his forearm, legs widening, ass shifting; all of the signs that Toji hyperfixated on. The way you tell him to keep going without so much as saying a word has him hotter than anytime another woman has begged for his touch in bed. Toji kisses you as he dips beneath the ajar slacks, then those sheer panties, slipping down to where you needed him most. You’re wet, he notes to himself. Wet, squelching and red hot when his thick middle finger sandwiches itself between the labia. 

Both pairs of legs tangled together amidst the desperation. While Toji touches you, you’re hiking your leg up–the one snuggled between two of the man’s built thighs. It presses to his clothed crotch, and you reach around grab a handful of his ass. “Hump it,” you dictate, using his ass cheek as leverage to pull his hips down against your awaiting thigh. Toji jolts; never had his ass been grabbed like that, but he thinks he likes it.

So he grinds. His groin crashes against your leg with rough enthusiasm, so rough that it should be a threat to your poor femur bone. But he doesn’t let up. Toji’s arm tenses and shakes with exertion as he fingers you, forearm burning from the intensity at which he moves. But he doesn’t let up.

“Fuck,” he huffs. “Fuck.”

What is he, some kind of dog? Chasing his high against a leg, licking your neck, barking obscenities into existence. Had you been anyone else, Toji would have had them bent at the waist over his bed, forcing their face into his lonesome pillow and taking what he needed. But you had this certain authority–you’d always had–as if you owned him. Not that you would ever admit that, nor did you believe it, but Toji did. You pay for his living quarters, his meals, his clothes, his car, hell, his time. The leash was cuffed at his throat, leather digging into his flesh, and he fucking loved it. Toji would wait for your instructions like a well behaved puppy. 

“Take my pants off,” you utter, and it’s only then does Toji realize that the both of you hadn’t bothered shedding any layers, taking favor in rutting clothed bodies together like a couple of immature teens. His hips pause their humping, and his tongue finds one long, last lick to your jugular before pulling back.

Two thumbs hook beneath both layers of material at your hips. “Can’t believe you made me wait this long,” he mutters offhandedly, dragging your pants down. 

You’re bare. His mouth waters at the sight of glistening moisture between your legs, encapsulated by a dusting of hair. Toji stares, nestled on his knees, straddling your thigh. He just stares.

“I told you my reasons,” you say.

He doesn’t respond to that. “I want to fuck you.”

Your chest rises. Are you arching for him? “Ask me.” When he cocks a confused brow, you lightly elaborate. “Show me some of that respect I taught you and ask me nicely.”

The sole of your foot caresses his pec over the black tee shirt he sports, a gentle notion that he is allowed to take his time. Toji doesn’t need time though; he’s got your twisted little request all figured out. It’s funny, he shouldn’t have expected any less. To him, respect didn’t exist in the bedroom, but Toji would make an exception. “Will you let me fuck you tonight?” You’re not letting him get off that easy, your pointed eyes say it all. So, in an uncharacteristically piteous voice, the man adds “please, ma’am” and strokes your calf for good measure.

That does it. 

Your legs spread, arms racing up to coil around the thick post of his neck. He lets you pull him down, lets you kiss him tenderly, lets your tongue curl behind his teeth. Toji groans, reaching a sticky hand down to clumsily shove his sweatpants around his ass. “You have no–” kiss “idea what you–” kiss “you do to me–” kiss, kiss “when you call me that.”

His length drags over your core, hot and heavy and thick and raw. He doesn’t move to grab a condom knowing damn well there’s a box that sits in his nightstand to the left of them. A box that has been forgotten, left untouched in the waking months of his realization that he doesn’t want to fuck other people. Why would he? When you take such good fucking care of him, what’s the point in sleeping around anymore?

“Be grateful,” Toji husks, rubbing up against the warmth beneath him. “‘M never this nice in bed.”

“I’m not, either.”

He throbs at that. A small hand snakes behind his head, weaving into the raven shag of his hair, and tugs. “I really never meant for this to happen.” Toji narrows those steely eyes at you. “To end up in your bed, I mean. I thought I had more resolve than this.”

Too bad money can’t buy resolve, he thinks inwardly. Hand still between bodies, Toji jerks himself slowly, soaking his tip in your entrance. His gaze is glued to your face, flitting amidst all the gorgeous features it had to offer. “I knew I’d get you here eventually,” he speaks with a lilt of confidence, prodding the point of his nose to yours. And then he pushes inside without warning. You’re gooey; a hot, wet heat encasing his body from head to toe. He feels you shudder, feels nails in his nape. He feels your sticky breaths on his cheek, feels your pillowy thighs squish against his hip bones. Toji serves you the entire length in one slow thrust, holding himself inside. “Fuck.”

“Slow,” you warn once more in a broken voice. His hair was grabbed again, you used it as a makeshift handlebar to yank Toji’s head down. His handsome face plummeted into the divot between your breasts, still gift wrapped in that undoubtedly overpriced shirt. His nose pressed to your sternum, taking deep inhales. 

Slow. 

Slow sex was unfamiliar territory to Toji, one among the list of foreign concepts you had introduced to him during your time together. Fucking was animalistic practice between two people, fast-paced and greedy and surprisingly lonely. Toji fucked with the intention of climaxing; intimacy is irrelevant. Was irrelevant. 

Toji slips a hand beneath your back, locking a grip on the underside of your shoulder to weld your chest to his face. Slow, timely thrusts met your cunt, watery squelches filled the room. “Oh, fuck.”

Your hands wander. Crawling down the base of his spine, breezing over his tail bone, clutching his bare ass. Guiding him in a way, and he doesn’t entirely mind. “My boy,” you moan in the throes of pleasure, a free hand blindly feeling for the back of his sweaty neck. Fingers stroke the precious skin there, sensitive flesh that nobody has ever paid attention to, not even himself. Toji trembles.

“Take it,” he whispers back, as if he still had any semblance of control. But you let him, and he thinks you’re too fucking nice for sparing his pride like that. “Take it, goddamn it.”

“Yes, my sweet boy.”

Idiotic. He is no longer a boy, nor does he even slightly compare to anything sweet. God, if you knew him. If you knew what he did for work… How many people he’s gutted and bled like livestock for quick cash… You would leave. He knows this to be a fact of life, you’re simply too moralistic and caring and selfless to keep in contact with a monster like him.

“Let mommy take care of you.”

Oh Jesus Christ, he’s done for. You wax praises so sincere that Toji starts to let himself believe he’s good. He pretends he’s worthy of being here with you right now in this bed, with your lithe fingers petting his damp hair and your breasts against his cheek, and fucks you harder. The toes of two socked feet bury into the mattress.

You successfully conquered his flimsy pride. “Mom… my…,” Toji breathes out, stifling down the impending whine caught at the back of his esophagus. He bucks deep inside, pubic bone to pubic bone, and grabs a handful of tit. So fucking soft even under this stupid shirt.

The sex plays out this way until the very end. A gentle tango that reminds Toji he hadn’t actually fucked in missionary position for some time. But at last, you came around him. “Toji, baby I’m here.” As if you were charged with electricity, you twitched and jumped beneath him. Toji fucked you through it, grinding his hips in a trajectory that caught your clit with his pubic hair. The friction was passionate, and you came with your jaw unhinged on a silent yelp.

“Give it to me,” he rasped, tongue lolling out to lick at your cleavage through your shirt. Drool rolled down the palate, collecting into a small puddle and dampening the fabric. A messy puppy, drooling all over you like that. Toji fucked harder, much too hard to be considered ‘slow’ anymore, but you didn’t stop him.

“Come on.” A hand dips beneath the collar of Toji’s tight shirt, scratching the ever loving fuck out of his upper back. “Cum baby boy.”

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuckfuckfuck.” The thrusts halt abruptly; Toji rams himself deep inside and holds onto you for dear life. There’s a brief pause before he empties himself into the deepest depths of your pussy, twitching as he does so. You coo, talking him through it with an inoffensive hand raking his bangs back. They stick, his sweat acting like a sort of natural gel, and Toji’s forehead is on display. You drag him up and press your lips to it—he flushes and drops back onto you, hiding in your neck.

Toji gasps on his come down, gulping in air through his nose. He’s weak and it’s strange. Despite the stupid amount of strength trapped within that Herculean body, Toji cannot find it in him to hover anymore. His entire weight drops onto your much tinier frame, but he hears no objections so he keeps himself there.

“Worth the buildup?” You ask at last, rubbing soothing circles into the plates of his shoulder blades. Your voice is a little strained, no doubt the effects of a two-hundred-and-something-pound man crushing your lungs, but Toji likes the funny grate of it in his ears.

“You already know the answer.” It’s written in the way your cum mixes together and wets the crease of his inner thighs. He’s not exactly going to say that was the most intimate and passionate sex i’ve ever had, but he’ll show you how much it meant to him by letting you cradle him to your chest.

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @4imhry @sugurubabe @mastermasterlist1p1 @mikisspeak @fluttershyfangs @iluv-ace @xstom @bratbby333 @mizzfizz @sserafin @wo-ming-bai @maexc @r0ckst4rjk @aesukuni

[criptochecca]

"[...]

The images of Palestinians that see we in our imperialist settings are usually pictures of depictions of devastation, bereavement and death. The humanity of the Palestinians is made conditional on their suffering, on what they’ve have lost, and what they endure. Palestinians get sympathy but not emancipation; emancipation would eat away at sympathy. This image of the victim produces the “good” Palestinian as a civilian, even better as a child, woman, or elder. Those who fight back, especially as part of organized groups are bad: the monstrous enemy that must be eliminated. But everyone’s a target. The fault for the targeting of the “good” Palestinians is thus placed on the “bad “ones, further justification for their eradication: every inch of Gaza provides a hiding place for terrorists. The policing of affect squeezes out the possibility of a free Palestinian.

[...]

The first intifada, in 1987, began with the “Night of the Gliders.” On November 25 and 26, two Palestinian guerrilla fighters from the PFLP – GC (Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine – General Command) landed in Israeli occupied territory. Both were killed. One of them killed six Israeli soldiers and injured seven more before he died. Afterwards, the guerrilla became a national hero, and Gazans wrote “6:1” on their walls to taunt the IDF troops. Even PLO Chairman Yasser Arafat praised the fighters: “The attack demonstrated that there could be no barriers or obstacles to prevent a guerrilla who has decided to become a martyr” Nothing could hold them down or block them in if they had the will to fly.

[...]

In 2018, during the Great March of Return, Gazans used kites and balloons to evade Israeli air defenses and start fires in Israeli territory. It seems as if it was Palestinian youth that first started sending the fire kites. Later, Hamas got involved, creating the al-Zouari unit that specialized in making and launching incendiary kites and balloons. The kites and balloons boosted morale in Gaza, while damaging the Israeli economy and irritating Israelis living near the Gazan border. In response to an Italian journalist’s remarks about the “iconic new weapon” that was “driving Israel crazy,” Hamas leader Yahya Sinwar explained, “Kites are not a weapon. At most, they set on fire some stubble. An extinguisher, and it's over. They are not a weapon, they are a message. Because they are just twine and paper and an oil-soaked rag, while each battery of the Iron Dome costs $100 million. Those kites say: you are immensely more powerful. But you will never win. Really. Never."

There’s further context for reading kites in Gaza as messages from a people that refuses to submit. In 2011, 15 thousand Palestinian children on a Gazan beach broke the world record for the most kites flown at the same time. Many of the kites featured Palestinian flags and symbols, as well as wishes for peace and hope. An eleven-year-old, Rawia, who made her kite the colors of the Palestinian flag, said, “When I fly it, I feel like I’m raising my country and my flag up, up in the sky.” The 2013 documentary “Flying Paper,” directed by Nitin Sawhney and Roger Hill, tells the story of some of the young kite fliers. “When we fly kites, we feel like we are the ones flying in the sky. We feel that we have freedom. That there is no siege on Gaza. When we fly the kite, we know that freedom exists.” Earlier this year, kites were flown at solidarity demonstrations that took place around the world, expressing and amplifying a hope and a will for Palestinian freedom.

[...]

In 1998, Palestinians built Yasser Arafat International Airport. In 2001, during the second intifada, Israeli bulldozers demolished it. As Hind Khoudary explained, the airport was deeply interconnected with the dream of Palestinian statehood. She interviewed workers who built the runway that was reduced to rubble and sand. As Khoudary writes, “Gaza airport was more than a project. It was a symbol of freedom for Palestinians. Flying the Palestinian flag in the sky was the dream of every Palestinian.”

The paragliders who flew into Israel on October 7 continue the revolutionary association of liberation and flight. Although imperialist and Zionist forces try to condense the action into a singular figure of Hamas terrorism, insisting against all evidence that with the extermination of Hamas Palestinian resistance will disappear, the will to fight for Palestinian freedom precedes and exceeds it. Hamas wasn’t the subject of the October 7 action; it was an agent hoping that the subject would emerge as an effect of its action, the latest instantiation of the Palestinian revolution.

Words used by Leila Khaled to defend the justness of the PFLP’s hijacking tactic apply equally to October 7. Khaled writes: “As a comrade has said: We act heroically in a cowardly world to prove that the enemy is not invincible. We act "violently" in order to blow the wax out of the ears of the deaf Western liberals and to remove the straws that block their vision. We act as revolutionaries to inspire the masses and to trigger off the revolutionary upheaval in an era of counter-revolution.” 

[...]

In the six months since the beginning of Israel’s genocidal war on Palestine, there has been a surge in global solidarity with Palestine, one reminiscent of the previous wave of the 1970s and 1980s. As Edward Said told us, by the end of the seventies “there was not a progressive political cause that did not identify with the Palestinian movement.” Solidarity with Palestine united the left, knitting liberation struggles together in a global anti-imperialist front. As historian Robin D.G. Kelly says, “We radicals regarded the PLO as a vanguard in a global Third World struggle for self-determination traveling along a “non-capitalist road” to development.” The militancy and dedication of the Palestinian struggle made its revolutionary combatants models for the left.

The struggle for Palestinian liberation today is led by the Islamic Resistance Movement — Hamas. Hamas is supported by the entirety of the organized Palestinian left. One might have expected that the left in the imperial core would follow the leadership of the Palestinian left in supporting Hamas. More often than not, though, left intellectuals echo the condemnations that imperialist states make the condition for speaking about Palestine. In so doing, they take a side against the Palestinian revolution, giving a progressive face to the repression of the Palestinian political project, and betraying the anti-imperialist aspirations of a previous generation. "

[disabled-dean]

Asterism of an F-Series Ford Pick Up- 17k

Now with BELOVED amv by @butch--dean 🖤

Summary: When you've been to hell, desire is isolating and ugly.

Or: Cas drives his truck for a case and Dean is exceptionally horny about it.

“Once on a hunt when he was a teenager, Dean had been caught too close to an explosive when it had gone off. There had been the moment when the projectile hit, and the moment when it had detonated. And just before it had, there had also been a moment when he had believed that maybe it wouldn’t.

He had thought about that moment for years, over and over again, until something else had taken its place. And the way that that moment was quiet, the way it was still- that is how this feels. To lie beside Cas in the bed of his truck, their shoulders barely touching.”

Follow @deancastruckwip for bonus content <3

Ten Minutes From Home [Lebanon Coda] WIP 30k

We've truly come a long way since the iconic:

"Physically restraining myself from writing a coda fic for Lebanon, where John stays over at the bunker, Cas comes home in the middle of the night & there's tension between him and Dean over whether or not they will still share a room, and then 29-year-old Mary has to sit through Thee most homophobic breakfast with her dead ex-husband, closeted son, and his common law married, ancient eldrich boyfriend."

This fic is a deep dive into some of the juicier elements of Lebanon, including- justice for Mary Winchester and her rich internal life, the intricate dance constructed around Dean's homosexuality and John's neglectful/abusive parenting and the impact of the Michael arc on Dean and Cas' relationship. Also features: recovering!alcoholic dean, a staggering amount of risky bunker sex, biblically accurate sibling interactions, and studies on objectification. Also Sam is practicing witchcraft as a treat, and I put that guy in eating disorder recovery (because he fucking needs it) <3

Haven't started posting this one! But you can follow @lebanon-wip for excerpts, inspo, and bonus content <3

An Easier Softer Way WIP 38k

Recovery!natural. Injured after the hell rescue goes wrong, Dean ends up disabled and living in a small rural town in Eastern Washington. With Sam fucked off to god knows where and without the fight to distract him, Dean has nothing left to focus on but his burgeoning sobriety, and persistent dreams of hell.

Set in the arid low-lands of the river valley, surrounded by apple orchards and twisting irrigation canals, Dean becomes convinced he can see a great beast stalking through the hills bordering the town. The same beast he has dreamt of since returning from hell, the same one he can sometimes feel beside him when he knows that he’s alone.

Walking the line between grief and reality, isolation and community, Dean has to pull together what's real and what isn't as he adjust to his disability, and finds faith that he is capable of building lasting relationships and creating a life for himself worth loving.

Also eventually Cas shows up, and they save the world.

He’s still debating just getting the fuck out of there when a women at the head of the long table clears her throat, and starts to read from a laminated print out. The edges of Dean’s vision blur out a little. He has to leave. He has to- the woman is still reading. Dean tunes back in in time to hear, “-At some of these we balked. We thought that we could find an easier, softer way. But we could not."  Here, the speaker pauses, and Dean feels like she looks right at him. But she doesn't. She just gives the laminated sheet a little shake, clears her throat and continues, "With all the earnestness at our command, we beg of you to be fearless and thorough from the very start.” And no one could ever call him a coward. So he stays.

Honestly the most plot I've ever worked with (and very deeply personal) so this one could be a while. @aneasiersofterway for inspo, vibes, and bonus content.

[scotland]

The National Monument of Scotland, perched atop the iconic Calton Hill in Edinburgh, stands as a majestic testament to the country's rich history and architectural heritage.

This neoclassical structure, was conceived in the early 19th century as a tribute to the Scottish soldiers who perished in the Napoleonic Wars.

Its design draws inspiration from the Parthenon in Athens, featuring a series of grand Doric columns that command the skyline.

While the monument's construction was ultimately left incomplete due to financial constraints, it remains a revered symbol of Scotland's enduring national pride and a picturesque part of the cityscape, offering breathtaking views of Edinburgh's historic landscape.

[aleksanderscult]

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character

about your lord and savior

I know that you sent me only this question but I'm going to answer all of them because I really want to about him (forgive me anon 😭🙏)

My first impression

"Goddamn he's hot"

He also really gave me vibes of authority and power. A figure that commands respect wherever he goes. Especially with how he could silence a room with just one word.

My impression now

ONE OF THE BEST FICTIONAL CHARACTERS EVER WRITTEN. Period.

Favorite thing about that character

His determination. The fact that he doesn't give up no matter the obstacles or the years in front of him.

(Also his hair *pats it* and his eyes 😚)

Least favorite thing

I really love him and I don't have many things that annoy me in him. Except maybe his grumpiness. When he constantly did that in RoW it annoyed me at times. I understand why he was like that but still.

Favorite line/scene

“Blue sky. Once more... Speak my name once more.... Don't let me be alone.”

Aka. his last words.

Favorite scene for him as a character has to be the tent scene in S&B. The extent of vulnerability he showed there is immense but most people don't get it because they're influenced by Alina's "Oh it's just an act" viewpoint of him.

HE WAS WASTED!! 🗣️🗣️

Favorite interaction that character has with another

*evil laugh* Alinaaa!!!

Literally their every scene. But my most favorite is the name reveal scene (just iconic shit yk)

A character that I wish that character would interact with more

Ulla.

Like 100%

I wanted more scenes of them together. Him interacting with one of his siblings was so immensely interesting for me. Again, he showed much vulnerability and he himself didn't realize it.

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character

Jareth from "The Labyrinth" (but without the make up, that hair and the singing part) although that's kind of a cheat because Aleksander was based on him.

Sebastian Morgenstern from "The Mortal Instruments". There are literally so many similarities.

SPOILERS!!

- They were both raised by an abusive parent.

- They were also both raised in isolation in a way.

- They were both suffering from loneliness and wanted love and company.

- They were both obsessed with a certain girl and wanted to get her.

- They both offered a throne to that girl.

- They both were jealous of the boy their girl was interested in.

- Their girl pretended at some point that they were on their side.

- They were both stabbed in the heart by that girl and killed.

(But for those who don't know make no mistake. Sebastian makes Aleksander seem like an innocent puppy. Since the former was actually obsessed with his sister and even tried to rape her💀)

A headcanon about that character

He's a dom in bed BOOM!

Also he never married or had children.

I have plenty of headcanons for that man.

A song that reminds of that character

Many! Right now "Running Up that Hill" by Placebo.

An unpopular opinion about that character

What he did to Genya (when he scarred her), Baghra and Nikolai was cruel but justified. Okay not so cruel what he did to Baghra.

But anyway, they all betrayed him so it wasn't like he attacked them without any reason.

Favorite picture

Again many but right now these. They really remind me of how I pictured him.

(Credit to @staciaches.art on Instagram and @bxromanceart)

Ask game

[bestgameostcrownduel]

Round 1, Side B: Silent Hill 2 (2001) vs Fire Emblem: Awakening (2012)

Silent Hill | Fire Emblem

Campaigns under the cut!

Campaign for Silent Hill:

Akira Yamaoka makes such excellent use of samples throughout the soundtrack to the point where you would have never even known he did unless you listen in very closely. We got some of the most iconic tracks like the Day of Night, Promise (Reprise) or Null Moon on the track listing. Not all the soundtracks are haunting and mellow, sometimes it's broken up by absolutely dreadful tracks like Ashes and Ghost with its suspenseful fast paced drum beats and an eerie absence of instruments otherwise. Listen I think the Silent Hill 2 soundtrack overall has just done more for us as a society and is just more iconic. Silent Hill 2 SWEEP

Campaign for Fire Emblem:

Don't Speak Her Name is incredible even as a standalone composition, but it's truly fucking magical as an example of video game music. There's other pieces in the OST obviously but I've been obsessed with Don't Speak Her Name for about a decade now. Some context: FE Awakening (aka FE13) is a turn based JRPG, and in terms of combat music, there's two tracks for most pieces - one that plays when you're zoomed out and seeing the chess-like overview of the map, and an embellished version that is seamlessly transitioned into and out of when your units make an attack and the camera zooms in on them. (It's a little hard to explain in words, so if you're curious you can look up a gameplay video.) There's also a third track that plays whenever it's the enemy's turn. Story spoilers here on out! The ruling queen of the kingdom you're fighting for is taken hostage by the enemy kingdom, whose king demands the Fire Emblem (important macguffin) in exchange for her. The queen instead jumps off a cliff, becoming a martyr to both her kingdom and the enemy kingdom. In the fight afterwards, Don't Speak Her Name is the track that plays for the entire fight - while you're zoomed out, while you're zoomed in, and even on the enemy's turn, because the enemy is just as reluctant to fight as you are. The title of the track comes from the protagonist of the game, the queen's brother, who is furious at the enemy commander for talking about his sister. I can't do the moment justice by just describing it - Don't Speak Her Name is so fucking good in and of itself, but I also think it's a superb example of the narrative power music can wield AND an example of the unique way games, as an interactive medium, can exploit the intersection of mechanical-musical structure to enhance their narratives. FE13 sets up the expectation of out-of-combat + in-combat + enemy turn tracks, so when Don't Speak Her Name breaks that expectation it communicates something. So so cool.

[vrepit-sa]

@cosmic-gemstone

In so many thousands of phoebs, this was far from the first time Commander Sendak had been separated from the Empire. The times between each 'excursion' became fewer and further in between as the reach of the Galra grew greater over the expanse of the unclaimed universe, but Sendak wouldn't consider himself much of a soldier if he couldn't survive on his own. It didn't mean he enjoyed it — perhaps he'd gotten too used to the resources made available to him. In any case, there was an aggravating itch under his fur that would not rest until his return was finished and his plans afterward were set into motion.

Zarkon could die. Would, most likely. Far be it from him to express any doubt in his Emperor, but he knew between Voltron and Lotor that the likelihood of it coming to pass was higher than it had been in the past ten thousand years. If there was nothing to be done about it, Sendak was at least keen on being there to take advantage of the power vacuum that would undoubtedly follow. If he could be there at the start, the advantage it would afford him would be immense. Making himself known was bound to be far, far more tedious otherwise.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been gone. With time dilation between worlds, across space and time, the movements he'd counted could have easily been phoebs elsewhere. Sendak had moved between half a dozen planets by now, and only the last three held any galra on the surface. But they were civilians only, far from the military or any great Empire influence — nobody who could contact, or even hold the means to do it at all, the Empire. Nothing to utilize. The database he could access through his cybernetic didn't even tell him anything, and he could not put it into use for long. It was in dire need of repair, and he afforded himself little more than a varga a day of its use. Not that it told him anything.

Until now. He'd heard rumors in the non-galra population that shore-leavers from the Empire came here now and again, mostly when they wanted to go unnoticed from their superiors. So used to dead-end leads (it seemed anyone not in the Empire's military only wanted to get as far away from it as possible), Sendak did not expect to lay eyes on anyone in a database he actually recognized. Day after day when he climbed to the highest point in the hill and overlooked the settlement, nobody was ever revealed to him. But this time, they were — just one figure in the crowd below. He even recognized the fleet, as the text temporarily glitched in and out of his field of vision. The glow flickered too, subsiding a moment more before the cybernetic dimmed and he saw fully the face of this person he'd already committed himself to pursuing. A seemingly young galran with piercing green eyes. Sendak stared at her from the far distance until she disappeared around a corner, and he began the descent towards the village to look for her.

It took an afternoon to find her. At some point, he was sure she had realized she was being followed, and he knew he was going to have to corner her. It was just as he'd begun to do so that he saw the military ship overhead, landing elsewhere. He'd considered turning in its direction instead, but opted to continue his pursuit of the woman. A medic might have been preferable to a soldier. Sendak was rightfully admired in the military, but detested by just as many in it, possibly more who only saw him as competition they'd need to be rid of one day. The military types were nothing if not maliciously ambitious — an attitude he himself had assisted in fostering.

Eventually, as she passed by the alleyway he'd hidden within, Sendak lashed out his hand, grappling her around the wrist and wrenching her back in the shadows with him. His iconic armor was hidden beneath a ragged cloak, but his eyes — red like a bonfire, yellow like the moon — were absolutely unmistakable to anyone of any rank in the military. Even if he hadn't been seen in some time.

“This is a far place to stay for a simple shore-leave.” Sendak rasped, making only an educated assumption. His grip on her wrist was near strong enough to bruise; he wasn't going to let her escape. “I won't hurt you. But if you scream I won't hesitate to silence you for good.”

[spinningbuster98]

Castlevania Symphony of the Night Part 3: Regional Differences

So...to go back for a second to the fact that I’m playing a translated Japanese version, let’s talk about cut content!

There are a couple of things that were cut from this game when it was released overseas, mostly minor objects that would have required some further localization which the team probably didn’t wanna be bothered with

For starters: there are 2 hidden familiars in the original version that are not present in western releases (PSP port notwithstanding)

In the hidden room where you’d otherwise find the Holy Sword you instead find the Nose Demon! He’s essentially a reskin of the normal Demon familiar you get later on, except he’s got a funny face and voice lines. Supposedly he’s based on a popular japanese comedian of the time, so I assume that the reason he was cut was because the joke would have flown over us westerners’ heads

In the room where you’d find the Sword familiar you instead find the Half-Fairy. She works exactly like the normal Fairy except she has different voice lines....and a very cool easter egg attatched to her: if you sit on a chair and don’t move for a couple of minutes she will sit on Alucard’s shoulder and there’s a chance (it’s random and she would not cooperate with me at first here) that she will then start singing this beautiful little melody which I’m going to show off next time :)

I’m going to assume that the reason this one was cut is because not only would they have to translate the song but also have someone sing it and given the quality of the english voice cast yeah forget it

There are other, minor differences, such as the ghostly priest in the Cathedral actually having a voice line where he does a little prayer while he’s totally mute in the international release

Speaking of the english voice cast I guess I’m sort of obligated to talk about them eh? Well let’s go over them!

Rober Belgrade as Alucard should not work for all intents and purposes, mainly because the actual tone of his voice is the literal opposite of his japanese va (same guy who voices Zero in Megaman X btw): Alucard is supposed to be an elegant, refined yet coldly stoic prince, so a soft voice that can still command respect fits him, while Belgrade is far too baritone. Yet despite this he still ends up sounding iconic because he’s pretty much the only person in this cast who genuinely tried to do his best. It’s a case where the voice itself shouldn’t fit but the delivery of the lines saves it

Dracula’s va (same guys who voiced the protagonist of Silent Hill 1 btw) sounds like he was convinced he was supposed to perform a parody of a Shakesperean play, he sounds so over the top he ends up sounding funny. The voice itself does not match the artwork nor the general idea of Dracula as this dark and intimidating figure

I don’t wanna harp on too much on Richter’s va (same va as Chris Redfield from RE1 btw) since the man died a bunch of years ago, but....yeah he was clearly reading his lines in the opening. He gets a little better in the rest of the game but that’s the extent of it

I’ve heard folks say that they can’t stand Maria’s younger sounding voice in the PSP port because she “doesn’t sound mature enough”, to which I ask: You do know she’s 17 here right? Granted I used to know girls in High School that had relatively deep voices, but Maria here straight up sounds like your average sultry sexy lady, much older than what she’s supposed to be, while she’s actually supposed to be a more mature version of her Rondo self: still pretty upbeat and cheerful but with more maturity on her

Lastly let’s talked about flimsy localization!

One of my biggest gripes against SOTN for the longest times was the number of secret moves and features the game does not tell you about

Some of these I’ve never minded because they’re minor and I can understand why they’d be secret, for example the secret moves that some weapons can perform? Just a cool little thing that you can accidentaly find out on your own while fumbling with the controls (which happened to me). The ability to use any spell without buying them at the shop by just knowing their commands? Well late game spells destroy the early game so of course it’d be a secret, plus again you can discover this accidentally on your own. The Shield Rod spells? Well those HAD to be secrets. The Wing Smash? That...I’m more salty about because Alucard’s flight is slow as sin without it but whatever

My real issue was always with the High Jump and the Skill of Wolf power ups, mainly because you had to find the correct relics for them...but then the game wouldn’t tell you how to actually use them (technically speaking you can still boost with the wolf after acquiring thePower of Wolf Relic, but no version of the game, not even the Japanese one, tells you how to do it with this Relic alone. Tbf it’s a very simple command, just double tap either left or right, but the Skill of Wolf Relic actually allows you to immediately run on a whim with no build up, thus allowing you to use the ability much more frequently)! Not only is this dumb because, while not strictly vital, these moves speed up exploration big time (especially in the Inverted Castle) but also because it made the feeling of discovering these relics pretty moot.

That is until I played the japanese version! Turns out that in this original version the in-game relic descriptions for these two actually DO contain the button inputs for how to use them. Just to be sure I even briefly played through an untranslated japanese rom and lo and behold!

I may not be able to read kanji, but I can recognize arrows meant to represent button inputs!

So thank you english localization for making me think for over 10 years that Sotn was more cryptic than it actually is :)

[disneydatass]

Shoutout to the lesbian who was sitting in the box w me whose girlfriend worked backstage at the Hollywood bowl and was giving me all the tea!

The power completely went out. (That’s the magic of Florence baby! She’s too powerful!) The amphitheater was running on generators for a bit they thought they would have to cancel the show completely.

They finally got everything back up and running and the guy working the tv projections literally was accidentally logging into his computer live in front of 20k ppl to which the crowd started chanting “Norm! Norm! Norm! (Shout out Norm)

Florence came out and she looked stunning! Otherworldly.

At one point in between songs I saw a stagehand whisper something in Florence’s ear, to which the backstage gf was texting us letting us know that they explicitly told Florence she could not come out and interact with the crowd at all due to the weather. (LA is not prepared for anything other than sun ever) It was literally a light drizzle but according to backstage gf apparently there was lightning a few miles away and if it got closer they’d have to yet again cancel and evacuate everyone.

Florence like the icon she is then proceeded to prance around the GA crowd to which she replied “whoopsies, I slipped.” #KING

I noticed from people that went to the concert Friday night that Florence waded through deep in the back of the crowd during one of the slower songs. I thought her little mini rebel act was as good as it was going to get but then but then!-

Florence full on sprinted up the stairs in the back section of the bowl! For those not aware Hollywood bowl is literally on a mountain of a hill; I can’t even talk while walking up it and this goddess was wailing and singing in perfect pitch while sprinting to give love to the crowd in the back! She literally was running barefoot in a dress faster than the security detail chasing her (LEGENDARIC)

TLDR: Florence took all the power of Los Angeles resurrected it commanded storms and said fuck the system!

[original-character-championship]

Bracket G Round 1

Poll 26

Deafheaven Leppard (@ratsovereignity) vs. Summer Jet (@kung-fu-cutbug)

435. Deafheaven Leppard (@ratsovereignity)

They/them, It/its, He/him, She/her

Singularly iconic, one of the greatest players in Jojo fan part Angel Warp. Slutty, powerful, miserable, BEYOND poker-faced: she's got it all. The facilitator of the pillarman return arc. Possibly funniest bitch alive with a cut-and-dry sense of humour, fondness for riddling talk, willful ignorance, and the peepaw flair.

Many great claims to fame, such as destroying a large hill because of being pissed that its name was changed from Leppard's Tit to Twisted Sister's tit (On and off girlfriend, bound to it by The Curse. Springtime ftw. They don't even like eachother that much), skinning people alive, flooding an entire empire despite being terrified of water, and most importantly being chased by the Wild Hunt to facilitate the passage of seasons from autumn to winter. He always gets out in time for spring, so does it matter (Yes. It does.---lifelong (over 70k years) traaaauma---)? It's thanks to her that the harvest is so good.

Don't you want to vote for a father of um. Siiiiix? Two biologicals despite a LOW birth rate, and five unwanted problemchildren that latched onto him as soon as it made the mistake of crawling out that pillar. Seriously, let her escape that narrative, this really isn't good for her. What's the difference between a room and a stage? - I don't want to be your mother, and all that.

Is also the product of the world's first divorce/why there's salt in the sea/the desolation of the princes. You know when a dissociative mad prince groomed for command since birth wielding the agendas of others as a holy blade (the one once with a name, now referred to only as the earthmover) can nail a foppish peacock/caligula's horse longing for something it had a taste of once and then was rewarded and punished with and bound by the strings of fate voluntarily (muse....) whatever kid shows up is going to be a REAL interesting beast. Especially when said monarch threatens to nuke entire civilisation using hamon-by-proxy and the peacock has to start aeons of stories by drowning the freak. And then the kid has to be put in the fridge for literally two million years. Yeah. You know that thing's going to be a freak.

So much Leppard lore, so little time. Whatever. Vote my little buddy. Angel Warp tumblr (It's real. and mostly dead fictional characters in a purgatorial ARG) will love it.

Leppard is very tall, reaching about eight feet by himself and over ten counting horns. Her horns spiral upwards like a gazelle’s and are covered in bands of metal for decoration. She is physically androgynous and very muscular, and has a coppery complexion, dotted with the occasional darker rosette and stripe. Their hair reaches around their lower legs and is a wavy earthen brown, with a few braided and beaded strands woven in. Their eyes are a luminous orange-amber with black sclera and blackened tearducts, their nose hawkish and hooked with a septum piercing, and their eyebrows enormous, their sharp face having very pronounced cheekbones, which is the cause of um. 'Gator style fucked up mouth extending all the way up to there. They wear a simple linen loincloth, and a mantle-cape (both white with orange accents), worn draped across a shoulder, weighed down by a single pauldron and golden necklaces in triangular shapes mimicking sunrays, these shapes also seen on their facepaint; three triangles, one set on an eyelid, and the other set below the other eye. Additionally, Leppard has coiling tattoos (traitor's brandings, actually) on their arms and legs, sharp claws, fangs and floppy ears covered in hoop earrings.

eeeem oh leppard fandragon here https://www1.flightrising.com/dragon/76425579

436. Summer Jet (@kung-fu-cutbug)

she/her

Let's see here... She's 6'7" and fucking jacked, I know Tumblr loves big buff women; she's transfem, trans rights!; she's an absolute badass who has survived multiple near-death experiences so far in the tabletop campaign she was made for; she's a huge My Chemical Romance fan & I created her while riding the high of an MCR hyperfixation, I KNOW Tumblr is all over MCR or at least a significant portion of it is; she's my hottest OC, in my opinion; she's a sassy bitch/mom friend combo who takes no BS and will ride or die for anyone she's close with; and she managed to get together with the great-great-whatever-granddaughter of a powerful lightning deity.

So toss Summer your vote! She'll bring you over to her apartment to jam out and play some games together if you do, and uh... well, she's not going to claim responsibility for any power outages or freak lightning strikes you fall victim to if you don't. :p

[rooster-does-art]

Battle of Gettysburg - Day 1

July 1

3:00 PM

Collapse of the Union line

The enemy struck them hard from the front, but they managed to hold them off. Volley against volley, the smoke of gunpowder soon filled the air. In the chaos and confusion of the battle, as the troops of the 153rd Volunteer Infantry Regiment focused on the enemy ahead of them, they failed to notice a new threat forming on their left. From that direction, a new Rebel brigade formed up a struct. Outnumbered and outflanked, there was no other option but to turn back and run.

With Reynolds dead, Major General Oliver Howard, commander of the XI Corps, assumed command of Union forces at Gettysburg. This thus left Major General Carl Schurz, as commander of XI Corps. Tasked with covering the northern outskirts of Gettysburg, Schurz only had two infantry divisions to cover the flat terrain there.

As forces of the Confederate Third Corps began appearing north of town, the 1st Division of the Union XI Corps, under the command of Brigadier General Francis Barlow, decided to occupy a piece of high ground to deny it to the enemy. This ground was then known as Blocher's knoll. Barlow believed that Confederate forces could use it as a place to position artillery and fire down on them. To prevent this he deployed his division on it. However, it was far beyond the Union line, thus leaving his force exposed on both flanks.

At 3:00 in the afternoon, the Confederate Third Corps began swarming Blocher's knoll. Barlow's division did their best to hold their ground, but with their flanks in the air they were unable to hold. In the fighitng Barlow himself was injured and soon left behind as his division retreated.

However, the disaster at Blocher's knoll was only one of a series of bad news for Union forces.

At 4:00 in the afternoon, Lee ordered all Confederate forces to adance. Soon Union forces north and west of Gettysburg were under heavy attack.

Following the loss of Barlow's division, the Union XI Corps was already in disarray and were already pulling back from the north, falling back south and across Gettysburg. This left the Union I Coprs' right flank exposed, as I Corps' 2nd Division tried to hold the right flank. Meanwhile, the Iron Brigade had fallen back from McPherson's ridge and retreated to Seminary ridge. There they tried to hold on, as the corps' artillery provided supporting fire.

But soon the Union lines gave way.

With heavy pressure pressed against them, Union forces on all fronts soon broke and had to retreat. Behind them were the Confederates, who were encouraged at the sight of retreating Union troops.

Falling back through Gettysburg, Union troops retreated south. It seemed like another defeat was to befall the Union Army of the Potomac. However, some Union forces managed to recover from the retreat and gather around at Cemetery Hill, located south of Gettysburg. There, they were joined by Major General Winfield Hancock, the commander of the Union II Corps. Hancock had been ordered by Major General Meade, commander of the Army of the Potomac, to ride ahead to Gettysburg and assume command of forces there.

Once on the field Hancock immidiately got to work. He began organizing the tattered and defeated Union units, deploying them on Cemetery Hill. Seeing the good high ground in that area, Hancock sent a message to Meade, telling him that the ground south of Gettysburg was a good place to hold an army and defend againts enemy attacks.

Soon the remains of XI Corps held on to Cemetery Hill, while the remains of I Corps deployed on a hill east of them, called Culp's Hill. As night fell, more Union Corps arrived to reinforce the line. Eventually, the Union Army of the Potomac formed the iconic "fish hook", which started from Culp's Hill and ended at the two Round Top Hills in the south. As the troops arrived and began digging into their new positions, General Meade, commander of that army, arrived. Colsulting with his corps commanders, he asked them if they should stand and fight. They were unanimous in their decision. The army should stay and hold the high ground they were on.

Meanwhile, across the battlefield, the Army of Northern Virginia deployed north and west of this fish hook. Many of their troops were in high morale. Lee had oncemore brought them a victory. However, although Confederate forces had been victorious during the first day of fighting, the battle was still far from over. The Union still held the high ground and were not yet defeated.

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

Featuring @thedumbguywithaheart43 and @bexdrey as members of the 153rd Pennsylvania Volunteer Infantry Regiment, which was a part of Barlow's 1st Division. On Boom's forage cap is the a Corps patch. The cresent indicates that he is a member of the Union XI Corps, while the smaller red cresent indicates that he is a part of the corps' 1st Division.

[orthodoxydaily]

Saints&Reading: Saturday, January 13, 2024

Leavetaking (apodosis) of the Nativity of Christ

december 31_ january 13

MARTYR ZOTICUS OF CONSTANTINOPLE, FEEDER OF ORPHANS (4TH C.)

 Icon from Uncut mountain suppy

He was born in Rome, and as a young man was chosen by the Emperor Constantine to assist in the foundation of his new capital at Byzantium. An outbreak of leprosy in the new City became so severe that the Emperor ordered that all lepers, whatever their rank, be driven from the city or drowned in the sea. Zoticus, moved by compassion for these people, went to the Emperor and asked him for a large amount of gold to buy gems and pearls to enhance the glory of the city, 'For, as Your Majesty knows, I am well-qualified in this field.' The Saint then used the gold to ransom all those being led into exile or to drowning, and to establish for them a camp on the hill of Olivet on the opposite shore of the Bosphorus. There he brought the sick and provided for their care.      In 337 Constantius, an Arian heretic, took the throne upon the death of his father. Some of Zoticus' enemies at court, seeing an opportunity, denounced Zoticus to the new Emperor, saying that he not only held subversive views, but had misappropriated public money. When he learned of these charges, Zoticus presented himself to the Emperor, finely dressed, and offered to take Constantius to see the gems and pearls that he had bought on his behalf. When they reached the hill of Olivet, Constantius was astonished to see a company of lepers coming to greet him with lighted candles, honoring and praising him and their patron Zoticus. Then the holy Zoticus said to the Emperor, 'These are the precious stones and brilliant pearls that give luster to the crown of the heavenly Kingdom that you will inherit by their prayers. I bought them for the salvation of your soul.'Instead of being grateful, the heartless Emperor ordered that Zoticus be tied behind wild mules and dragged until dead. The mules ran down the hill, breaking the Saint's body upon the rocks an brush. Then, of their own accord, they returned to the top of the hill, still dragging the body, and, like Balaam's ass (Numbers ch. 22), spoke and proclaimed that the Martyr must be buried on that hill. The astonished and repentant Emperor ordered the Martyr buried with honor, and commanded that a hospital for lepers be built there, staffed by the best physicians and caretakers.      Saint Zoticus is also called Orphanotrophos, 'Cherisher of Orphans,' because in later years a large orphanage was added to the leprosarium. The orphanage included a general hospital and a home for the aged. The Saint was honored throughout Byzantine history as the patron of the orphanage.

VENERABLE MELANIA THE YOUNGER, NUN OF ROME(439)

Saint Melania was born in Rome into a devout Christian family. Her parents, people of property and wealth, hoped that their daughter would marry and have children who would inherit their wealth.

At fourteen years of age Melania was married to the illustrious youth Apinianus. From the very beginning of their married life, Saint Melania asked her husband to live with her in chastity or else release her from the marriage. Apinianus answered, “I cannot agree to this right now. When we have two children to inherit the property, then we shall both renounce the world.”

Soon Melania gave birth to a daughter, whom the young parents dedicated to God. Continuing to live together in marriage, Melania secretly wore a hair shirt and spent her nights in prayer. The second child, a boy, was premature and had severe complications. They baptized him, and he departed to the Lord.

Seeing the suffering of his wife, Apinianus asked the Lord to preserve Saint Melania’s life, and he vowed to spend the rest of their life together in chastity. Recovering, Saint Melania stopped wearing her beautiful clothing and jewelry. Soon their daughter also died. The parents of Saint Melania did not support the young couple’s desire to devote themselves to God. It was only when Saint Melania’s father became deathly ill, that he asked their forgiveness and permitted them to follow their chosen path, asking them to pray for him.

The saints then left the city of Rome, and began a new life completely dedicated to the service of God. Apinianus at this time was twenty-four years of age, and Melania twenty. They began to visit the sick, to take in wanderers, and to help the indigent. They visited those who were exiled, and mine-convicts, and the destitute, there in debtor’s prison. After selling their estates in Italy and Spain, they generously helped monasteries, hospitals, widows and orphans in Mesopotamia, Syria, Egypt, Phoenicia, and Palestine.

Many churches and hospitals were built with their assistance. Churches of both West and East benefited from them. Leaving their native land, they set sail for Africa, and a strong storm arose while they were at sea. The sailors said that this was because of the wrath of God, but Saint Melania said that it was not God’s will that they should go directly to their destination.

The waves carried the ship to an island on which barbarians had landed. The besiegers demanded a ransom from the inhabitants, or else they threatened to lay waste the city. The saints supplied the necessary ransom, and thus saved the city and its people from destruction.

Resuming their voyage, they landed in Africa and helped all the needy there. With the blessing of the local bishops, they made offerings to churches and monasteries. During this time Saint Melania continued to humble her flesh by strict fasting, and she fortified her soul by constantly reading the Word of God, making copies of the sacred books and distributing them to those who lacked them. She sewed a hairshirt for herself, put it on, and continued to wear it.

The saints spent seven years in Carthage, and then decided to visit Jerusalem. At Alexandria, they were welcomed by the bishop, Saint Cyril, and they met in church with the holy Elder Nestorius, who was possessed of the gift of prophecy and healing. The Elder turned to them and told them to have courage and patience in expectation of the Glory of Heaven.

At Jerusalem, the saints distributed their remaining gold to the destitute and then spent their days in poverty and prayer. After a short visit to Egypt, where the saints visited many of the desert Fathers, Saint Melania secluded herself in a cell on the Mount of Olives. Only occasionally did she see Saint Apinianus.

Later, she founded a monastery, where eventually ninety virgins lived in obedience to Saint Melania. Out of humility, she would not consent to be abbess, and lived and prayed in solitude as before. In her instructions, Saint Melania urged the sisters to be vigilant and to pray, to disdain their own opinions and cultivate first of all love for God and for one another, to keep the holy Orthodox Faith, and to guard their purity of soul and of body.

In particular, she exhorted them to be obedient to the will of God. Calling to mind the words of the Apostle Paul, she counselled them to keep the fasts “not with wailing, nor from compulsion, but in virtuous disposition with love for God”. By her efforts an oratory and altar were built in the monastery, where they enshrined the relics of saints: the Prophet Zachariah, the holy Protomartyr Stephen, and the Forty Martyrs of Sebaste. About this time Saint Apinianus fell asleep in the Lord. Saint Melania buried his relics and there spent another four years in fasting and unceasing prayer.

Saint Melania wanted to build a men’s monastery on the Mount of the Ascension of the Lord. The Lord blessed her intent by sending a benefactor who provided the means for the monastery. Joyfully accepting it, Saint Melania finished the great work in a single year. In this monastery, saintly men began to lift up unceasing prayer in the church of the Ascension of Christ.

Having completed her tasks, the saint left Jerusalem for Constantinople, hoping to save the soul of her pagan uncle Volusianus who had traveled there from Rome. Along the way she prayed at the relics of Saint Laurence (August 10), at the place of his martyrdom, and received auspicious signs. Arriving in Constantinople, the saint found her uncle had fallen ill. Her demeanor and her inspired discourses had a profound influence on the sick man. He gave up pagan impiety and died a Christian.

During this time many inhabitants of the capital were deceived by the heretical teaching of Nestorius. Saint Melania accepted anyone who turned to her for proper explanation, converting many of them to Orthodoxy. Many miracles were worked through the prayers of the saint.

Returning to her own monastery, the saint sensed the approach of death, and told this to the priest and the sisters. They listened to her final instructions with deep sorrow and with tears. Having asked their prayers and commanding them to preserve themselves in purity, she received the Holy Mysteries with joy. Saint Melania peacefully gave up her soul to the Lord in the year 439.

Source: Orthodox Church in America_OCA

     

1 THESSALONIANS 5:14-23

14 Now we exhort you, brethren, warn those who are unruly, comfort the fainthearted, uphold the weak, be patient with all. 15 See that no one renders evil for evil to anyone, but always pursue what is good both for yourselves and for all. 16 Rejoice always, 17 pray without ceasing, 18 in everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 19 Do not quench the Spirit. 20 Do not despise prophecies. 21 Test all things; hold fast what is good. 22 Abstain from every form of evil. 23 Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you completely; and may your whole spirit, soul, and body be preserved blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.

LUKE 17:3-10

3 Take heed to yourselves. If your brother sins against you, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. 4 And if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times in a day returns to you, saying, 'I repent,' you shall forgive him. 5 And the apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith." 6 So the Lord said, "If you have faith as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be pulled up by the roots and be planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. 7 And which of you, having a servant plowing or tending sheep, will say to him when he has come in from the field, 'Come at once and sit down to eat'? 8 But will he not rather say to him, 'Prepare something for my supper, and gird yourself and serve me till I have eaten and drunk, and afterward you will eat and drink'? 9 Does he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded him? I think not. 10 So likewise you, when you have done all those things which you are commanded, say, 'We are unprofitable servants. We have done what was our duty to do.'

[iviarellereads]

The Eye of the World, Chapter 48 - The Blight

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Blighted tree icon)(1) In which there's a conversation that catches some readers off guard.

That morning, Lord Agelmar and all the lances rode east at daybreak, the farmers and most of the common people riding out a different gate toward a city further from the Blight and battle. The only people remaining in the city were a few old men, and a handful of soldiers who volunteered. Fal Dara could not be allowed to fall totally undefended, in the worst case. The smallest column leaving the city were headed north, to the Blight.

Ingtar and a hundred lances accompany the party to the border with what used to be Malkier. He's grumpy because this means he'll be late to the battle at Tarwin's Gap, but he's also been commanded not to set foot in the Blight, and Agelmar wouldn't tell him why. Moiraine tells him it's as she planned with Agelmar, and Ingtar grumps and bids them farewell, so he can ride hard to Tarwin's Gap and get some battle in. Nynaeve asks if he's so eager to fight Trollocs, and Ingtar replies that it's what he is, what he was born for.

An hour's ride north of the border, the temperature starts to rise, but it feels wrong. Rand sees a tree that looks mottled with yellow and red spots, and Lan tells them some of the dangerous creatures that live here, a stick bug which can bite and leave a venom that will digest a whole body being the least of them.(2) Every mile further they ride, the wrongness gets more intense. Lan and Perrin are the only two who don't seem to be affected.

Eventually they get to an area near enough to the mountains to have cold breezes, but even those feel bad, like the icy chill of opening a tomb. Moiraine says there's an area nearby where they can make camp, it will be a good omen to camp there, and they'll be able to cross the mountains at noon, when the DO's eye is weakest. They crest a hill, and Lan slows, so Rand looks where Lan does. There are seven hills in the distance, and as the sun lowers to a certain angle near the horizon, a couple of them glint. Not hills: seven towers. Lan dismounts, his face as stony as ever.

Nynaeve asks if they can't camp by some small lakes in sight of their hill, and Mat adds that he'd stick his head in and maybe never take it out. Then something disturbs the surface of the water, rolling on and on, until a tail raises five spans into the air. And along the whole length of the tail, tentacles writhing like worms. It fades, and Rand exchanges a look with Perrin, both disbelieving. There couldn't have been *HANDS* on the ends of those tentacles. Mat changes his mind about the lake.(3)

They make camp, and settle down for the evening. The camp is surrounded by a “Bending” of the light, to keep them less visible with the fire going. Egg says she could probably do it even now. Nynaeve says she should go to Tar Valon with Egg after this, just so she’ll have a familiar face around. Egg gets excited and says the boys will come too, right, and Rand can train to be her Warder. Rand agrees, even as he remembers Min’s warning.

Later, Rand lays in his spot though he has trouble finding sleep, but nearly everyone else is snoring in short order. Everyone except Lan and Nynaeve, who are still sitting up by the fire.

Nynaeve hands Lan a cup of tea and says, she should have known he would be a king. He says he's not a king, just a man, with nothing to his name. Not even a farm. Nynaeve says steadily that some women don't ask for land, or gold, just the man. Lan counters saying the man who would ask her to accept so little wouldn't be worthy of her. He calls her remarkable, a lioness.

“A Wisdom seldom weds.” She paused to take a deep breath, as if steeling herself. “But if I go to Tar Valon, it may be that I will be something other than a Wisdom.” “Aes Sedai marry as seldom as Wisdoms. Few men can live with so much power in a wife, dimming them by her radiance whether she wishes to or not.” “Some men are strong enough. I know one such.” If there could have been any doubt, her look left none as to whom she meant. “All I have is a sword, and a war I cannot win, but can never stop fighting.” “I’ve told you I care nothing for that. Light, you’ve made me say more than is proper already. Will you shame me to the point of asking you?” “I will never shame you.” The gentle tone, like a caress, sounded odd to Rand’s ears in the Warder’s voice, but it made Nynaeve’s eyes brighten. “I will hate the man you choose because he is not me, and love him if he makes you smile. No woman deserves the sure knowledge of widow’s black as her brideprice, you least of all.” He set the untouched cup on the ground and rose. “I must check the horses.” Nynaeve remained there, kneeling, after he had gone.(4) Sleep or no, Rand closed his eyes. He did not think the Wisdom would like it if he watched her cry.

=====

(1) Not to be confused with the dead tree, which is for forests at night. This one is special for the Blight. (2) How very bidi-taurabo-haza of you. (I've been rereading Seanan McGuire's InCryptid series leading up to book 13, and one of the Patreon shorts has one of these as a plot point. I couldn't just NOT comment on it and drop a rec for one of my other favourite book series.) (3) Good call, bud. (4) This really came out of nowhere for me the first time I read it, but in retrospect, it's sort of set up, particularly in Nynaeve's chapters. Just. Sigh. Lan so firmly believes that he's doomed because of the promise on his behalf as a child to avenge his country, as part of the oath of kingship. And Nynaeve has grown feelings for him anyway. And the best-worst is that he has no lack of feelings for her, but he wants so much more for her than what he thinks his life has to offer. Tragedy.

[granvarones]

From its nascent days in the late 1970s and early 1980s, women MCs like The Sequence, MC Sha-Rock of Funky 4+1, and Roxanne Shante didn’t just step into the scene; they carved out a space for themselves with courageous and defiant voices in a predominantly male arena. As Hip-Hop evolved, women in Hip-Hop challenged gender norms and social assumptions. They pushed the boundaries of what it meant to be a woman, a Black woman artist in an anti-Black musical landscape.

Icons such as Queen Latifah and MC Lyte emerged in the late 80s and early 90s, not only for their lyrical agility but also for addressing issues like gender equality and self-respect, laying the groundwork for a legacy of empowerment and resistance.

The 1990s and 2000s saw an explosion of diversity in the representation of women in Hip-Hop, with artists like Missy Elliott, Lil Kim, and Lauryn Hill. These artists expanded the genre’s boundaries, proving that women could own and redefine Hip-Hop’s essence.

Today, the influence of women in Hip-Hop is more visible than ever, with artists like Nicki Minaj, Cardi B, and Megan Thee Stallion dominating the charts and social media, blending rap prowess with entrepreneurial savvy. They continue to break records and challenge stereotypes, ensuring that the women’s perspective is commanding, clear, and impossible to ignore.

This Spotify playlist, “Women + Hip-Hop: Queen-Sized Rhymes,” celebrates the journey and achievements of women in Hip-Hop. From the pioneers to the new queens, it’s an homage to the resilience, creativity, and sheer talent of Black women who have transformed the Hip-Hop genre. Their stories and songs are not just a part of Hip-Hop history; they are essential chapters in the narrative of music and cultural innovation and queer history.

[the-river-is-right-there-chopper]

The One Strange, Real Thing You Can't Replace

I couldn't find this iconic story's animatic for Ace Combat fandom, so I decided to make one myself. Then I realized, in wise words of another Tumblr user I forgot: "I make Art.txt, not Art.png" But that didn't stop me. Anyway here goes:

Rush hour in the Sky Kid Bar in Expo City. A group of nuggets from New Arrows Air Base gather around their mentor to hear another war story. He was a veteran of many conflicts and a former member of a few ace squadrons, regular and special taskforces. His TAC name was Count.

"Another story I heard about myself, this one happened during another Free Erusea uprising. There was this ace in the enemy air force, whose protégé flew in the enemy air force. His name was Mihaly Dumitru Margareta Corneliu Leopold Blanca Karol Aeon Ignatius Raphael Maria Niketas A. Shilage and his apprentice Yellow 13 was in the enemy squadron. He started flying in the Continental War while I started in the Lighthouse War, so he was 1 war ahead. And Mihaly… was an asshole.

"And one weekend he and his granddaughters decided to leave the air base. Which you should never do if you're an asshole. And Yellow 13 decided to patrol the airspace above their base. Hurray! And everyone in the Joint Assault Peacekeeping Squadron heard about it, and we all got up individually and thought: Okay, let's go over there and destroy the place.

"I entered the AO, everyone I had ever met was there, and everyone was flying like it was a superweapon fight. People were flying like it was the Belkan War and Pixy was coming to cut our wings off with that laser.

"It was totally unsupervised. Long Caster was baking a birthday cake for Eagle Eye and Oka Nieba with Bandog were making Thunderhead loosen up by force. We were like Spare Squadron, we were running wild.

"I descend- I descended to a lower altitude, they had a castle on a hill. Talisman took a Strike Eagle and dropped an SFFS on the castle and leveled it. Trigger packed Avril into his WSO seat, and found out which hangar was Mihaly's and landed and disassembled his Flanker.

"So the operation was going great.

"I'm flying low and I'm doing a cobra, you've seen Top Gun: Maverick, and I'm flying low, and I'm doing a cobra, and I'm starting to black out. And I guess someone said like <<something, something, Gründer>> and in a brilliant moment of word association, I yelled <<Fuck Belkan witchcraft!>>.

"<<Fuck Belkan witchcraft!>>.

"And everyone else joined in. A dozen of G-LOCed pilots, some of them of Belkan descent yelling <<Fuck. Belkan. Witchcraft.>>. With the confidence of guys who have, like, already been to solitary and aren’t afraid of it anymore. You know that like ‘I’ll take whatever the hell action I see fit’ confidence.

“The reason someone had said <<something, something, Gründer>> was because the Z.O.E. drones were there. So Doctor Schroeder went into the enemy command center and looked at the cluster of radar signatures and heard a bunch of pilots yelling <<Fuck Belkan witchcraft!>> on the open comms. And he was almost impressed. He was like <<Enthralling>>.

“And then he switched to their radio frequency and went <<Deploy Nemo>>. And my friend Jaeger, who is a father- This man has a son, he did a PSM, released a cloud of flares and yelled <<Scatter!>>.

“And everyone flew in a different directions, we all flew in different directions. It was like that moment when Eruseans deployed MQ-99s in Scofields Plateau and they all went different ways, we all flew in different directions.

“I followed Trigger along the river, and we entered a valley, and I’m flying through the valley and there’s this narrow highway tunnel, and I thought <<I’ve never flew through a tunnel that small before>> and then I woke up in the hangar.

“On Monday, I went on a mission because that’s what we did back then. And I’m entering the AO and who do I fight, but Yellow 13 and he says to me <<Hey, were you in Shilage on Saturday?>>.

“And I said <<Negative>>, you know, like a con man.

“And he said <<Things got really out of hand. Someone destroyed the castle. Someone took apart Mihaly’s Su-30.>>.

“<<But the worst thing>> he says, <<The worst thing is that someone stole these old Voslage Air Force patches and the Sol Squadron are freaking out about it.>>.

“And I had that thought that only pilots shooting at tents and Full Band can have. Did- Did I do that?

"I figured no, I wouldn't have done that, but I was never sure until, 2 years later- Relax" He said to nuggets going wild.

"I'm doing a BFM exercise with this ace, TAC name Cipher that we also fought along with. 2 years later, 3 new Free Erusea uprisings were over by now. We're practicing basic fighter maneuvers for a while and then Cipher says to me <<Hey, come here. I want to show you something>>.

"We land and he takes me to his hangar, and then he takes me into the back section of his hangar that's closed behind a curtain. Never a good thing to have. He shows me a tiny cork board that is covered in different patches of disbanded squadrons, pillaged from different air bases over the years.

"And I said 'Why?'. 'Why do you do this?'

"And Cipher said 'Because it's the one thing you can't replace".