Don’t talk to me or my grandson or my great great grandson or my grandson’s illegitimate child or my illegitimate child or my great great great granddaughter or my alternate universe counterpart or my alternate universe counterpart’s great great grandson fused with his gay boyfriend ever again.
A bandit gang preys on wounded and weary adventurers
as they straggle down the road from the dungeon
to the city.
A black cloak was stolen from the Burnt Bridge tavern
last night; sewn into the hem is a treasure map.
A gigantic egg appeared in the town square last night.
No one knows what might hatch out of it, but it’s
going to happen soon.
A deity walks the city streets disguised as a humble
A hot-tempered knight has promised all his lands to
his brother if he is bested at the upcoming jousting
A leading churchman has announced a heretical
doctrine; his fellow priests have demanded that he
recant, on pain of excommunication.
A wrestler named Drón Goldentress will perform
three great quests for anyone who can beat her in
Agitation grows in a neighboring land for a renewed
war against the kingdom.
An eerie dog with glowing eyes stalks the city at
night. The magnificent sorcerer Furioso was bitten by
it, and now he can barely remember his own name.
Ditchdiggers unearthed an ornate tin casket the other
day. They can’t figure out how to open it, but won’t
let anyone else try, either.
Drinking a poison surely meant for someone else,
the meek baker Oswald dropped dead in a tavern
During the day, the headsman’s daughter appears
rather homely, but under the moonlight, she is the
fairest young maiden in the realm.
Every hundred years or so, a black, venomous rain
falls on the city, killing hundreds of people. A recurrence
is months overdue.
The Superordinate Six, a band of famed adventurers,
have failed to return from an expedition to the Rat
Goblins tunneled a good distance under the city walls
last year, but the authorities covered it up.
Grave robbers have been digging up the bones of
slain adventurers. They must be working for a lich
or evil wizard.
Luriez the horse trader is auctioning off Bravo, a
clever and magnificent steed. His former owner,
a luckless mercenary, lost him in a dice game.
Magic items sold by Antesos Three-Beard have a
peculiar way of finding their way back to his shop
after the purchasers die.
Many of a famous knight’s heroic feats were in fact
performed by his squire, a young girl dressed as
Mercenaries have taken sanctuary in the temple; the
high priests want them out but are forbidden by the
tenets of their faith to expel them.
Pound for pound, the most valuable treasure in town
is not silver or gold, but the cache of saffron hidden
in the spice merchant’s shop.
Priestess Ciana has great healing powers, but those
she raises from the dead sometimes take on her
Pulsing green lights are frequently observed near the
abandoned mines south of the city.
Recent rains flooded the catacombs beneath the city;
strange things are floating to the surface.
Someone is stealing all of the town’s church bells.
Somewhere in the city, the priceless Altar of Kych is
hidden in plain sight.
The armorer Casabon just received a shipment of
Zhenish steel, which will make fine blades for those
who can afford them.
The astronomer Harun the Subtle reports sighting a
circle of new red stars in the sky. The Royal Astrological
Society has offered a reward to anyone who can
conclusively explain the meaning of this omen.
The beloved singer Dulari has fallen prey to a terrible
illness, one the healers can’t cure.
The bullying city watchman Moyalva has been extorting money from the weak and helpless.
The courtier Vivando has fallen out of favor with
the king, who suspects him of having eyes for the
The exiled prince of Cadis unwisely dismissed a
churlish servant who knows too much about his
The feathers that rained down on Beggar’s Alley last
night came from the wings of battling archons.
The floorboards beneath the Trembling Pig Inn are
hollow and full of stolen gold.
Pirates have disrupted grain shipments meant for the
kingdom; starvation looms if traders cannot resupply in time.
The high sheriff becomes violently enraged if anyone
accuses him of having orc blood.
The king is a usurper who has the real heir to the
throne chained up in his basement.
The king plans to build new watchtowers around the
city. Laborers, once desperate for work, will soon be
hard to hire.
The king’s chief minister plans to step down, making
way for his clever but abrasive protégé.
The philosopher Frabreck has released another
pamphlet arguing for the conquest of the orc lands,
so that its peoples can be liberated from evil and
placed under the king’s benevolent rule.
The rancher Septimus is raising a flock of strange
reptilian beasts on his farm.
The retainers of an unpopular knight quelled an
uprising on his lands by fi ring crossbows into an
The rich merchant Zaguant has learned that pirates
have sold his son into slavery.
The son and daughter of two rival merchant families
eloped a few weeks ago. Both fathers offer a reward
for the son: his father aims to protect him, but the
girl’s wants him dead.
Whenever a member of the murderous Lampedusa
clan is slain, the weapon used to deal the death blow
is permanently imbued with powerful magic.
The young adventurer Brialda carries a shield bearing
the crest of the Acatero family, even though, as an
illegitimate daughter of that clan, she is not entitled
An ancient throne lies buried in a field nearby.
Anyone who sits on the throne for an entire night
will rise from it a wise man or a lunatic.
They say that if you listen long enough to the water
lapping against the shore near the statue of King
Brand, you will hear the name of an innocent person
you are fated to kill.
They’re slaughtering more than just cows and sheep
at the old abattoir down by the piers.
Whenever ravens gather on the clock tower, a mighty
“I am aware,” Loki said with barely hidden impatience. It took time to establish trust in his ability to rule, but some of the people he surrounded himself with seemed to expect him to fail at even the most rudimentary of tasks.
“They may be a small and distant realm, but their proximity to…”
“As already stated, I am very well aware of their significance. Do you have anything useful to contribute?”
Rohingya is not a country, it’s a minority group of Muslims.
Burma (also known as Myanmar) is a predominantly Bhuddist country whose government has been executing and terrorizing this minority.
The Rohingya are currently stateless. In 1982 Burmese law claimed Rohingya as an illegitimate ethnicity, therefore they were no longer citizens and had no way of being naturalized. THEY WERE DEEMED and CLASSIFIED as foreigners in their own homeland. Today, they are rejected by neighboring Bangladesh and sent back to Burma where the troops await to behead, burn, murder, torture, rape, isolate, kidnap, ect the entire population.
The UN has OFFICIALLY called the persecution of Rohingya ethic cleansing. With that being said, they still haven’t done shit about it.
In the last ten days alone, over 100,000 of them have tried to escape. But because they are denied refuge and safety, they still meet the same torturous fate they try to escape from.
You guys, they are slowly being wiped from the face of the earth. And the Burmese government is STRATEGICALLY making sure they get away with it by pushing the Rohingya to the margins of Burmese society so that the torture and execution they commit can go unclassified. The media has not exposed Burma enough. This is a minority group of Muslims about to disappear at the hands of an Islamaphobic government who has alienated them into what will soon be oblivion - DO NOT STAY SILENT.
just a reminder @ bi women: your love for other women isn’t lesser or illegitimate because you also have the potential to experience attraction to other genders. your love for other women is real and beautiful and something to cherish
I really need to know about the mailman who delivers based on the aztec lunar calendar!!
So my family lives in the unincorporated Larimer County and for about 10 Years, our postman was Mr. Schmidt.
Do not allow the name to fool you.
Mr. Schmidt was well over 6 feet tall, mostly gangling odd-bending limbs and had a beard that went nearly to his knees. Our post office allegedly had a regulated delivery schedule, but Mr. Schmidt would turn up with mail according to his own personal comprehension of time, which I’m pretty sure was set to his home dimension of Qulaxon-51^778~
I’d be lying in bed at 2AM, Dog on my feet in a pitch-black room, when there would be the loud squealing of a an ancient subaru with a USPS roof ornament and a failing timing belt that never got replaced the whole decade I knew him, and my room would flood with the unholy blue led headlights he’d installed.
Ah. I would think to myself, Mr. Schmidt’s Austrian-Texan* holler still echoing in my ears. Mail’s here.
Mr. Schmidt had a difficulty in his job in that the driver’s side of the car in the US always faces the middle of the road, unless one drives into oncoming traffic. Which means that most postal workers have to stop and hop out of their trucks to stick the mail in the box. Mr. Schmidt was fundamentally opposed to doing things like parking, or following OSHA recommendations, so he committed some kind of automotive black magic and moved the back seat bench up to the front and angled all the pedals, so that he could drive the Subaru whilst lounging across the bench, head and arms outside the passenger window, one foot operating the pedals and the other one steering.
It was like if one of the members of ZZtop had an illegitimate child with tree-beard and he grew up to be both a hedonist roman and a postman.
Mr. Schmidt’s odd schedule and curious antics were very tolerated in my neck of the county though, becuase he could reliably deliver mail to our curiously unplottable house, and the other houses on sometimes-numbered roads that were really more sage than dirt and located halfway up a canyon. Packages arrived well before they were due and never so much as dented, and we were somehow never afflicted with penny-savers. Not rain nor snow nor gloom of night nor bears nor wildfire evacuations nor that one time it got down to -20 and the road was covered in three inches of ice and everyone’s tires went flat could stop his deliveries.
My family had been in the practice of mailing a fruitcake between various blood and legal relations for several years as A Practical Joke, but after an uncle burned my aunt’s house to the ground (God please make sure he’s dead) we weren’t sure Freddie Fruitcake was still with us. The aunt called us, sobbing after three weeks of holding it together in the face of the loss of her house to tell us that she hadn’t been able to find Freddie in the wreckage, and that she’d been intending to send it to us this year. We did our best to comfort her, it’s fine, honestly the fruitcake isn’t important compared to her safety, please come for the holidays.
She agreed and we went to collect her from the airport a few days later. We arrived back at the house to discover that Mr. Schmidt had parked the Subaru and was standing at the front door with a small package in his hands.
“This looks important.” he said, handing my bewildered aunt the box before nodding, folding himself back into the Subaru and driving off. Awed and wondering, we hustled inside from the snow, and studied the package. Unfamiliar handwriting, return address from Seward, Alaska.
Inside was not Freddy, but another fruitcake of the same brand. As far as anyone knew, we’d never spoken to Mr. Schmidt about the Great Fruitcake exchange but his relationship with reality was odd enough that I suppose that he could have been listening in.
*My best guess for the accent. It was really more over-caffeinated goat than anything else.
promised to wealthy young nobleman several years ago,
impeccable bloodline, extensive dowry, raised in convent, passable but not extensive literacy, hopelessly naive, poor conversational skills, very little in the way of sprezzatura
became mistress of your wealthy young nobleman shortly after my arrival in your city,
dubious bloodline, illegitimate birth, meager dowry, married to lower-ranking noble, lover paid off my husband to stay quiet, excellent conversation skills, sumptuous wardrobe funded by my lover, 10/10 sprezzatura
The UA teachers knew about All Might’s true form before it was revealed to the public, right?
But they don’t know about One For All (except for Recovery Girl and principal Nedzu).
So like. When Cementoss saved All Might’s secret from getting out to Kirishima at the end of the USJ invasion, and he saw how unbothered All Might was about Izuku knowing his true form and how Izuku didn’t seem all too surprised by it, he must have realized that Izuku knew about All Might’s true form already.
And I mean, he must have wondered why Izuku, specifically, was the only student to know about All Might’s secret.
Put that together with the similarity in their quirks, and Aizawa’s observation on the first day of school about All Might picking favourites, there’s one obvious conclusion the teachers must have come to.
Basically, what I’m trying to say is, the UA teachers all totally think that Izuku is All Might’s illegitimate child.
sadfasd i’m not taking requests now But i’ll make an exception with yours bc i like the fact that If you line all the group chat things i’ve made
(zeppelis - joestars - villains - sbr) you can see how dio has slowly taken over and i think that’s beautiful
i love the idea of the joestars having to escape from their fans in the same way that Dio has to escape from his illegitimate children
–and to add a contribution to part 5 and the collective desire to have it confirmed
Imagine you are a lady-in-waiting to the princess of another realm who has been engaged to Loki for diplomatic reasons. She isn’t particularly kind to you, nor are the other ladies. They look down on you since you’re an illegitimate daughter of nobility, and you only got the position from your uncle who is incredibly influential in court. It’s the best position in society you could have hoped for, for which you are grateful, but you are far from happy.
When you go with the princess to Asgard you’re full of excitement to see a new realm. It’s only an initial visit for the prince and princess to get to know each other and their cultural differences before the marriage. What you don’t expect is how handsome and seemingly charming Loki is. You know you shouldn’t allow yourself, but you grow fond of him even just watching him from afar.
You tell yourself your interest in him is only of physical desire though the more you watch him the more you notice: his mischievous nature, his quick wit, his gift of reasoning, and skillful hand in magic. You fall in love.
There’s no way you can be with him so you decide to write poetry, something you’ve always excelled at and found refuge in.
A few days later you find him on a bench in the gardens reading a piece of parchment which you recognise as yours. Terrified to speak to him, but knowing you had to apologise for writing something so inappropriate, you approach. After rambling out an apology, Loki is surprised it’s yours, having been given it by another one of the princess’ ladies-in-waiting. You’re embarrassed that you’ve inadvertently revealed your true feelings but Loki gently thanks you. He tells you it’s one of the finest pieces of poetry he’s read; that it bleeds sincerity. He asks if he can keep it and you tell him yes. Loki kisses your hand and leaves.
Loki doesn’t talk to you again throughout your stay but every now and then your eyes would meet and he’d give you a small smile.
After a couple of weeks, you go back to your home realm. You know you shouldn’t, but you don’t want to give up your feelings even if it means heartbreak. You just wait and wonder what will happen when you have to return to Asgard for the marriage…
Oftentimes in leftist circles you can hear folks
decrying liberals and liberalism. If you ask them why they hate liberalism,
most of them will point you in the direction of Mao’s Combat Liberalism to
better understand them, but this is a mistake. Combat Liberalism is effectively
an internal memo, warning other communists of the need to avoid liberalism lest
it be detrimental to their work. It details results of that ideology, but not
causes. To that end, I’ve compiled a brief description of what liberalism is
and why it’s bad.
The ideology of liberalism is denoted by three
Free-market capitalism. Liberals believe that
capitalism is good, or at least “the best we have”. While liberals
may argue over how much intervention in the market is necessary, they all agree
on the fundamental goodness of capitalism, and that it should be tweaked rather
The state and representative
“democracy”. Liberals believe that the state is good, and that
representative democracy is an effective means of creating social change and an
acceptable level of participation. They reject any aims outside of the state,
and try to co-opt movements towards state action (e.g. electing Democrats).
Nonviolence: The liberal insistence on
“nonviolent” protest (usually invoking a whitewashed history of Dr.
King) is largely derived from state-worship. They see the state as the only
legitimate user of force, and all others as violent looters and rioters;
because of that, they refuse to even consider violence as a method of protest or direct action (e.g. antifascism).
Indirect action and representative
problem-solving: Linked to the lionization of representative democracy,
liberals care little for direct action, even as indirect as blocking a street
for a few hours. They believe that the power to change things is vested solely
in those representatives, and that the common person shouldn’t bother; direct
action, to them, is illegitimate for the same reason as violence.
A focus on individual rather than class politics.
Liberals see all social issues as issues primarily affecting individuals,
rather than groups. In other words, they lack a class analysis; they see
racism, for example, as the result of individual prejudices and
“meanness” and something to be fixed at that level, rather than a
system of structural violence against non-white peoples aimed at dividing the
Liberalism, as an ideology, is dangerous. These
three tenets combine to form an analysis that is insufficient to encompass the
whole of the enemy, and more importantly a praxis that is ineffective at
combating it. It infects activists and ordinary workers alike, and railroads
them into believing that they cannot change a society that benefits only those
at the top. It railroads them into believing that the burdens they bear cannot
be thrown off, and stands in the way of our collective liberation. It must be
combated, for it is at the root of the struggle.
Over the years of your life, you get super into occultism and devil-worship. One day you summon a demon with the intent of selling your soul in replace for your utmost desires. One problem though. You’re the illegitimate son of God.
NOTES/WARNINGS: NON-CON due to the inherent nature of slavery.
Upon returning to his rooms he heard sounds from the bath chamber, and the light silk robe from last night was lying beneath the bed. He lifted it up and let the fluid material glide over his fingers. It was a remarkably fine weave. Mother would have been intrigued, wanting to figure out how to replicate it.
Putting the garment down, he approached the doorway. The girl was washing herself, unaware of his presence.