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antiquatedplumbobs · 1 year

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Antiquated Brindleton

An 1890s Decades Challenge Save File

This save has been almost a year in the making, but it's finally here! It includes a completely rebuilt Brindleton Bay inspired by historic New England towns and set in the 1890s. This save uses a light amount of historical cc and most of the packs.

Download and details under the cut:

SAVE DETAILS:

Includes:

Eight new residential lots

Seven new community lots

Six new households

Builds and households are all located in Brindleton Bay. The world is intended to be historically accurate to about 1890, though some liberties for functionality have been taken.

Builds in other worlds have been deleted. The necessary buildings, like dorms, active career lots, and the high school, have all been left in place.

Townies have been evicted, but not deleted, as I prefer EA townies to fully randomized townies.

If you��d like more period appropriate townies to add, the lovely @jewishsimming has some great historical ones to download and @cowplant-snacks has an amazing tutorial on how to manage your townies with MCCC.

REQUIREMENTS: I have all the packs except Batuu and some of the kits. I didn’t limit myself when building. I don’t have everything listed out here, but I will be uploading all the lots and households to my gallery, so if you’d like to know specific pack usage you’ll be able to check there. If you load in and things are replaced or missing and you think it looks obvious feel free to message me, I’m always happy to try to help you find something else that fits! This save includes historical CC, some is included in my download in folders and some you will need to download from the creators directly. The CC required is listed and linked below, you need to download these linked pieces in ADDITION to the included cc folders.

CC To Download:

@lilis-palace

FOLKLORE Set

@s-imagination

Cottage Kitchen Stuff Pack

@happylifesims

1840s Suspenders Outfit

1900s Male Hunting Fashion

1920s Nightgown

Piteous Outfit

Sylas Fashion Set

Wilbur Outfit

@satterlly

Medieval Nightgown Della

@vroshii

Functional Tennis Set

@vampireloreskill

Antique Standing Camera

Creators Whose CC I Included:

@ameyasims (Better Than a Bush Outhouse, Victorian Swimwear)

@buzzardly28 (Multiple women’s hairs)

@chereindolente (Sacco Chore Coat, Edwardian Child Clothes)

@gilded-ghosts (Boudoir Belle, Victorian Visions, New Woman)

@jewishsimming (Off The Grid Objects, CAS items)

@linzlu (Assorted CAS and BB items)

@the-melancholy-maiden (Victorian Hair and Hat)

@nolan-sims (Potbelly Stove Set)

@pandorasimbox (Get To Church Pack, Azariah’s Sack Suit, Antique Slipper Tub, Heirloom Silhouette Portraits)

@peacemaker-ic (Simple Siding Wall Set, Luxurious Single Bedding V2)

@plumbobteasociety (Some BB and CAS items from the Cottage Garden Pack, HSL Happy Birthday Set)

@twentiethcenturysims (Langtree Hair, Historical High Chair, Quilts for Kids)

@waxesnostalgic (Sportswear Separates, Peterpan Bodysuit)

Thank you to all of these wonderful creators, your historical cc creations make this game a million times better to play and I appreciate all of you so very much. Recommended but not required mods:

Timeless by @pandorasimbox

Default Map Replacements by Deshayan (if you’d like your map to look like mine does in the preview)

Victorian NPC Replacements and Llama Scouts Historical Replacements by @cowplant-snacks

Home Regions by Kuttoe

DOWNLOAD: There are five zipped folders to download, four of which contain included cc, and one which includes the save itself.

Download the "AB_SaveFile" folder, unzip it and simply move the file inside to your saves folder inside your Sims 4 folder (where your mods folder is located).

The included cc is in four folders (to allow for easier upload/download) for build, buy, clothing, and hair. Simply download the folders, unzip them, and place them in your mods folder.

After this you should be good to load up your game and get playing, let me know if you run into any issues, I'm happy to try to troubleshoot. SFS | Google Drive THANK YOU: To all my amazing testers: @epistolarysims @aheathen-conceivably @cowplant-snacks and especially @simadelics who edited my household and build descriptions.

If you use this save file, please tag me in any photos you take, I want to see them all!! This save has been my baby for so very long and I cannot wait to see what you all do with it!

@maxismatchccworldrld @mmoutfittersters

#ts4 save file #sims 4 save file #save file #ts4 decades challenge #sims 4 decades challenge #ts4 build #sims 4 build #ts4 historical #sims 4 historical #sims 4 history challenge #ts4 history challenge #antiquatedbrindleton

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gremlingottoosilly · 3 months

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The Horror and The Wild (emperor!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your royal husband decided to have some fun under the layers of your skirts. Essentially, your duty is to cockwarm him during the court meetings. Tags and TWs: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, cockwarming, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator Word count: 2851 AO3

The emperor has no shame.

He is getting himself a wife – a pretty one, a perfect one. You’re a princess from a kingdom lowly enough to never fight him, but also from a big enough that the marriage would be somewhat fine in the eyes of his advisors. Not like he cared, of course – not like he didn’t destroy your kingdom anyway, killing your alleged parents and the real princess in hiding. You knew that if he wanted to, he’d pick up a peasant rat from the street and proclaim her his prettiest courtesan.

You just happen to be more unlucky than a peasant rat.

But, oh, he has no shame indeed.

König hates his court – there is no surprise here. The only people he appreciates are the ones he hired himself – peasants just like him, brought from rags to riches, earning their worth in gold through undying loyalty. Fierce soldiers and cold generals – no place for aristocrats whose only prospects are the names of their families. König doesn’t care for the rich women in his harem – the same women who took turns adoring you as their newest addition, pretty little princess who will finally pay them some well-deserved attention. König doesn’t care for the opinion of his court, the old men who only here because the emperor knows there is some dignity in the old age, and their family’s money can go to fuel the empire’s prospects.

You’re spread open – but concealed with skirts, a small mercy of your husband who couldn’t say less about saving your dignity. You whisper into his ear, a hiss mixed with a concealed moan – the advisors are too busy with chatter and idle quarrels about the next taxation over your land to see what their royal family is doing. If anyone noticed your ragged breath or König’s small movements, they knew better than to say anything.

Maybe, this is why he didn’t care to stop the court ruling over some minuscule issue – taxes over your fallen kingdom, the way to make him richer while his opponents would fail, possible coup, and a few magic uprisings on the borders. These were all minimal threats to his throne – the same throne you were spreading your legs on. Your dignity as a fair maiden only saved by the heavy skirts that cover your lower areas. Your dignity as royalty is only saved by your pursed lips and complete silence in which König, the glorious ruler of the greatest empire on this continent, is using your warm cunt as a way to pass the boring court time.

You can feel everything – every throbbing vein of his manhood pulsating and twitching inside of you. Grazing your walls with its royal length, you only have as many opportunities to grunt and switch positions before his advisors start to become suspicious. You knew he wouldn’t care about them thinking of his as some impure creature made of lust – but you also hoped to have at least some social lubricant as a newly appointed queen. With your title being as pointless as the church’s charity work, you’d have to fight tooth and nail to get loved by your people.

With König keeping you confined in the castle walls and his harem maidens making sure you’re coming enough times per day to never walk without support, there aren’t a lot of ways for you to gain the love of your people.

A royal advisor – small, old man – is looking at you.

You smile.

König pushes his hips upwards, forcing a tight scowl on your face. The advisor turns away.

— Y…you have to stop before they notice.

He smirks, the emotion hidden by his mask. You’re adorable – pretty, naive, so unconcerned with the empire’s problems that he is surprised you weren’t the one to try to mount him in the first place. He thought that eager young princesses should be driven crazy by lust, wanting to get on whoever’s manhood is big enough, too secluded by their parents to care about dignity…yet there you were, behaving like a perfect empress. Lips pursed and tongue-tied.

Too bad he wanted to make you scream.

— You don’t sound begging enough, your Highness. In this room, I only accept pleads.

His awkwardness washes away as your cunt squeezes him even more, the perverted power play is definitely doing something to your nether regions. He didn’t want to move at first – too satisfied with simply having your warm body here to satisfy his cock but now he can’t help but jolt his hips upwards once in a while, making you squeal and spread even more wetness. He is addicted to the feeling of your body around his – by god, you truly are irresistible. The man who never once touched a woman from his harem filled with aristocrats and richest daughters on the continent is now going mad for a girl whose only prospects are pretending to be a princess.

Emperor feels like a rabid dog that was thrown a bone. A yearning boy who just saw a glimpse at the naked female form and resructured his whole life around it. A monster whose only goal in life is to snatch any pretty thing he sees.

He rocks you on his hips, steady hands on your waist. No one suspects anything, but you still grip his hands, still hiss and plead. If you’re only willing to touch him to make him stop…well, then he simply wouldn’t stop.

— Please, stop…doing this?

— Doing what?

He stops, however – some of the old men in the court are looking at the two of you, interested to hear whatever you were speaking about. König is glad he switched to your language. König is glad he learned this language before he abducted you – having his recious princess attached to his hip and being the only one she can communicate with is…endearing. Enticing. Just a little bit precious.

— You’re distracting me.

— Please, my lord…just wait till the end of the meeting. I beg of you.

— You were doing something important?

You sigh, biting your lips. Trying so hard not to lash out at him, he finds you amusing. Adorable. So precious, he doesn’t know what to do with a pretty thing like you. Perhaps, there is a point in allowing you to rest…as long as you’re behaving, of course. As long as he can trust himself around you.

He smiles, fighting the urge to bury his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet aroma. It would mean he’d have to take off his mask and, while he adores you, he can’t quite do that in the presence of duying memorables in his court. Only his most trusted men are allowed to see behind his mask – and of course, the privilege of seeing the emperor being so nice to his wife is something that has to be earned too. As much as he would love to strip you naked and proclaim his love to every single inch of your beautiful form, it would mean sharing the view with the others – and oh, the emperor is too possessive for that.

Maybe he could order a painting later…after you’re already with an heir, of course. The empire is waiting for him to keep up appearances. Everything for the sake of an heir. Not simply because he fell in love with a peasant girl who is far too perfect to be a maid to some spoiled brat.

— Very well, Meine Liebe. Since you’re being so kind to your husband.

Husband, husband, husband.

König can’t help but grin. The proclamation of his status feel awkward against your skin, and the old fear and anxieties of his position are catching back to him – but he’d be cursed if he didn’t enjoy the way you’re looking at him while he is saying that. The way your breath would bitch and head spread across your body. There is something about making you embarrassed that he adores – maybe it’s your expressions. You’re a sheltered girl ,after all. Untouched and pure – or was like this before he met you, of course.

The old men are staring at you outright now, their expressions unreadable. König can assume they know what’s going on – an arrogant emperor is feeling too bored with the meeting and decided to use his pretty young wife to entertain himself…and there was this reason, of course. But more than anything else, König wanted to proclaim his undying love. Nothing in this kingdom would make him leave you – not even his duties as an emperor. A cursed being like him doesn’t deserve love but, luckily, you’re not the one to make that choice.

Your pussy is soaked, inviting any action – but he is stopped fully now, taking some documents into his hands as the meeting is dismissed, the advisors are scattering around like rats around his throne. He thinks about ordering a throne for you – something small and elegant, standing so much smaller than his own, no one would ever mix you up as being a politically important person – someone worth killing, that is.

König would order you your own throne, but that would mean you’d stop sitting on his lap so nicely every day he is having meetings with his servants and advisors. It would mean he couldn’t slip his manhood past your lower lips, spread you on his cock, and slowly rock you on his hips before finally filling you up with his semen. You can feel it dripping down your legs, soaking into the fabric of your undergarments and skirts – yet another dress ruined.

You’re lucky König is civil enough not to simply rip it from your body, finally revealing your chest to his hungry hands and tongue. Oh, how much he would love to enjoy your body while the others can’t do anything but shiver in their pathetic disgust and jealousy. The prettiest woman in the country is his – and if someone would ever try to question if you’re beautiful enough, he will kill them himself.

Once the last advisor gets out of the room, you sigh with relief, your pussy clenching on his cock and painting it with slick. You are getting on your last shreds of patience here – your husband is not a small man, his manhood is enough to make you feel sore after just being in halfway, but the position you’re in made it possible for him to bottom in your precious, fragile body…you can already feel the bump growing in your belly – perhaps with heir, perhaps just with the emperor’s semen, the man who treats you like you’re simply a toy for his pleasure.

— You’re embarrassing me, Your Highness.

You sigh, biting your lips as you stop struggling with your moans. The pleasure ripping from inside of your body was replaced with soft contention – the soft motions of his hips going back and forth, rocking you on his cock as you’d murmur to him softly. He takes one hand to unwrap you from your corset – like presenting himself with a beautiful gift, a precious little pastry stuck in fabric and ribbons.

— Still, I’m their empress. You shouldn’t…it’s inappropriate.

You sigh with relief as you’re finally allowed to breathe fully – and you rest your head on his chest, almost ready to fall asleep. He works on documents for a bit more – his cock resting calmly in your folds, fixing his seed in place. You couldn’t care less about the staining, knowing full well that you’d just ask the maids to burn whatever dress was ruined this time. Understanding fully that he would simply buy you new ones – and with warm weather finally approaching, you hope for lighter sets.

— I doubt these relics noticed what we were doing.

— You’re their empress, ja. And I was just showing them that we’re trying for an heir. The public could get anxious otherwise.

You laugh dryly. He never failed to remind you of your true place.

— I should probably visit the doctor then. To know for sure.

— I don’t want others touching you without a reason.

— Is an heir not a reason?

— I don’t need one.

You laugh again, looking at him with that hateful glint he already got used to. You almost stopped looking at him like that – only reserved for the especially heated moments. Your hatred for him had almost died out, replaced with soft, quiet acceptance. Never being able to run away or kill yourself, you can finally say that there is no way out - and that you can start accepting your role as the glorious empress. A glorified breeding mare. Toy made to be used by König – and the one that he cherishes most.

— Why then…

— Peasants want a brat on your hip, to know that the nation would thrive. No one cares that I do not intend to die at all.

He brings a couple of grapes to your mouth, plunging them into your soft lips as you’re trying to shake your head, not having energy to eat anything in your current state. You feel like a decadent pet, getting on his lap and enjoying the attention – but, of course, the attention wasn’t something you sought out. You’d do anything for him to simply stop – but sooner the earth got blown off than König letting you go while you’re looking oh so sweet and delicate, half-naked on his lap. Just like a perfect princess should – and even though your title didn’t mean anything to anyone, you still wanted for at least someone to treat you with respect. Well…looks like this someone would have to be you.

You open your mouth as he proceeds to feed you – it’s easier to just give in to his whims. You might not like him as much as he wished to, but you know you can tolerate him. Maybe even like him – given the time, of course. And you didn’t have much of it, unfortunately.

— You think I might be with child?

— I can just stay in the bedroom the whole time. I don’t want public visits.

König grasps your hip, massaging the soft flesh. He has to break you out of heavy skirts for him to do that – the empire’s fashion changing rapidly as the new empress doesn’t really like killing whales for her skirts. It was an in-door dress, of course, something gentle and flowy – but still, without bone protection and ten skirt layers, you almost feel naked. Without tons of fabric between you and him, you feel trapped – suffocating, even. Gods, this is almost pathetic.

— I’d have to order you new dresses.

— They don’t even know my name.

You pout just like a spoiled little princess – and König laughs, feeding you another grape. It doesn’t look like he is so busy with work right now - if anything, he almost looks like stalling, buying his time with the documents while he can enjoy you in an almost not disturbed state. Even though you hate the feeling of dried cum on your thighs, you’re still not quite sure whether you want to call for maids so they could help you with bathing. Somehow, sitting on the emperor’s lap, you almost feel content. Completed. The feeling you only got when you were with the princess…but oh well, looks like you do enjoy serving the loyalty. On your hands and knees, on your back, on your tummy…

— Public needs to see their empress.

— They might learn in the future.

— You can’t make me into a princess. I’m not…royal enough.

You scoff, nuzzling your head against his chest. You can stop resisting him, if only for a second. Trying your best not to sound like you really are angry at him – because you aren’t, not anymore.

You close your eyes, licking your lips. Sighing deeply.

— You did fool me at first.

— It wouldn’t work with your advisors.

— They know better than to argue with me even if they were to suspect something.

He plays with the meat of your breasts, squeezing and tugging. Smiling smugly as you whine, clearly not wanting him to use you so rudely – but it’s not like you even have a choice on the matter. You learned to enjoy it, some way, somehow. Making it feel like you actually want it – even though you do feel extremely drained. Too drained, to be quite honest.

But, oh, it was a good day – the best day you could have, probably.

***

In the end, it was the best day you possibly had.

Mainly because the drink the servant had given you after König finally settled you into the bedroom like you were a cat needing its owner to tuck her in, felt like iron and liquid fire on your tongue.

Mainly because instead of helping you get out of your dress, the servant coldly observed the way you would grasp your throat in a feeble attempt to get the liquid out.

Mainly because…

Mainly because, as much as König wanted to believe his little captive princess is safe within the castle walls, she is in no way immune to assassinations from the inside.

Your vision darkens before you can finish.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #yandere cod #call of duty #cod konig #konig smut #konig x you #yandere imagines #yandere #male yandere #yandere male

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years

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Have you ever heard of Priest Holes? Well, if you live in England, check your attic, b/c you may have one. Once upon a time, it was illegal to be Catholic in England.

King Henry VIII needed a male heir & blamed Catherine of Aragon, his 1st wife, for not giving him one. On these grounds, he asked the Pope for an annulment, which was refused, so Henry founded his own church (the Church of England). And because he was King, the entire country was required to convert to his new religion.

It was high treason for a priest to even enter England. Priest Holes are pretty much what they sound like: Small, tucked-away medieval cubbies where Catholic families could hide their priests.

They had to be small, b/c priest hunters were out to find the heretics. They were no taller than four feet, wedged in any space in the house that could discreetly accommodate them.

When priest hunters became wise to these hidden spaces, they would wait until the families thought they had gone, and then seize the priest when he came out. Some homes like this one, had multiple Priest Holes.

This one, formerly a medieval sewer, was found under a kitchen.

This man found one in the wall of his home.

Here’s one that was found above a bread-oven, in the thickness of the chimney stack.

Nicholas Owen was a carpenter who specialized in building Priest Holes. Owen worked alone and at night to avoid suspicion.

Some of his work throughout England may still be undiscovered. For example, this one, rediscovered in 1858, was not fully opened until 1910, and “still inside were a rope ladder, a small tapestry, bedding and a folding leather altar.”

Owen did eventually get caught. The first time he was discovered, in 1594, he was tortured, but did not reveal the names or locations of his fellow Catholics. He was released after a wealthy Catholic family paid a fine on his behalf, and went back to building Priest Holes.

In 1606, though, Owen was arrested again.

But, this time, he was tortured so badly, he died an awful death, having revealed nothing to his inquisitors. He later became Saint Nicholas Owen, the Patron Saint of Illusionists and Escapologists.

https://www.messynessychic.com/2021/03/24/another-reason-to-check-your-attic-priest-holes/

#priest holes #english history #priest holes england

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secretmellowblog · 1 month

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Les Mis Canon-era Paris Photographs: Jean Valjean and Cosette’s route to escape Javert, in Pictures!

Jean Valjean's escape through Paris is Victor Hugo's way of mourning the Paris he knew from before his exile, the Paris before the modern renovations.

Hugo wrote Les Mis from exile in Guernsey, at the same time as Paris was undergoing a series of massive renovations. The "Old City" of medieval Paris that Hugo loved was being replaced by the “New City" of Baron Haussman. The dark medieval labyrinth lit by oil lamps was being replaced by modern wide streets and standardized architecture lit by gas lamps. Victor Hugo is nostalgic for the Paris he remembers before his exile-- so Jean Valjean is able to escape Javert using things unique to the Old City. He escapes through a labyrinth of tiny medieval streets in a neighborhood Hugo claims was destroyed during the renovations; he climbs over the convent wall using the rope from an oil lamp, the very oil lamps that were being replaced by the more modern gas lanterns. The dark maze hides him from police surveillance in a way modern streets cannot.

A man named Charles Marville photographed Paris shortly before many (though not all) of the renovations occurred. In this post I'll go through all the different streets mentioned in the Valjean-Javert Paris chase chapters, and provide Marville's photographs whenever they the image has been labeled with the name of the street. Note that there may be some inaccuracies. Some street names changed over time.

Here is a map of what the chase looks like, taken from the book "Paris in the Times of Victor Hugo."

A quick overview: Jean Valjean starts in a slummy half-built suburban area. This area is highly associated with the King; the royal Jardin des Plantes is nearby, and King Louis XVIII often rides by in his carriage during the afternoons. After travelling down a bunch of streets, "zigzagging" back and forth, Jean Valjean decides to cross the Seine over the Bridge of Austerlitz (a bridge named after one of Napoleon's victories.) Then he reaches the areas of the city near the Faubourg Saint Antoine that are more associated with working class rebellion. From there he enters a dark isolated half-built medieval neighborhood near marshes and timberyards, with narrow mazey alleyways, that Hugo mostly made up. Hugo pretends this medieval neighborhood used to exist, but was destroyed like many others during the recent renovations. Now that we've gotten the overview out of the way, let's go more specific!

The chase starts out in "the old quarter of the Marche aux Chevaux." At the time, this was a less inhabited and poorer area of Paris; it's described as basically a slum. Here are some of Marville's photographs :

Then we're told "Jean Valjean described many and varied labyrinths in the Mouffetard quarter, which was already asleep, as though the discipline of the Middle Ages and the yoke of the curfew still existed. He combined in various manners, with cunning strategy, the Rue Censier:"

"and the Rue Copeau," (according to the map I linked earlier, the Rue Copeau is now the Rue Lacepede. Here is Marville's pic:)

"the Rue du Battoir-Saint-Victor and the Rue du Puits l’Ermite. There are lodging houses in this locality, but he did not even enter one, finding nothing which suited him. He had no doubt that if any one had chanced to be upon his track, they would have lost it."

"As eleven o’clock struck from Saint-Étienne-du-Mont:" (note: this refers to the church of Saint-Etienne)

"he was traversing the Rue de Pontoise, in front of the office of the commissary of police, situated at No. 14." (Jean Valjean sees Javert and the police following him on this street, because they're visible in the light of the lantern from the police station.)

"He took a circuit, turned into the Passage des Patriarches, which was closed on account of the hour,"

"strode along the Rue de l’Épée-de-Bois

and the Rue de l’Arbalète, and plunged into the Rue des Postes."

"At that time there was a square formed by the intersection of streets, where the College Rollin stands to-day, and where the Rue Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève turns off." (Note: these streets are labeled Montagne-Sainte-Geneviève, but not Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève, so they may be different streets! But I'm putting them here anyway.)

"It is understood, of course, that the Rue Neuve-Sainte-Geneviève is an old street, and that a posting-chaise does not pass through the Rue des Postes once in ten years. In the thirteenth century this Rue des Postes was inhabited by potters, and its real name is Rue des Pots." (Annotation: Hugo's bein silly and making little puns. He's snarkily pointing out the "new saint-genevieve street" is old, and the post street rarely has post-chaises/carriages go through it.) (Jean Valjean hides in the shadows and watches to see who shows up in this big square intersection of streets. In the moonlight, he recognizes Javert.) "He slipped from under the gate where he had concealed himself, and went down the Rue des Postes (which I shared a picture of previously), towards the region of the Jardin des Plantes." (Note: the Jardin des Plantes is a royal garden. Here is a modern photo from Wikipedia.)

"He left behind him the Rue de la Clef,

"then the Fountain Saint-Victor, skirted the Jardin des Plantes by the lower streets, and reached the quay. There he turned round. The quay was deserted. The streets were deserted. There was no one behind him. He drew a long breath.

He gained the Pont d’Austerlitz." (The Pont d'Austerlitz, named after Napoleon's victory at the battle of Austerlitz, is a very famous bridge. Marville has no photographs but here's an 1830 engraving:)

"The bridge once crossed, he perceived some timber-yards on his right. He directed his course thither. In order to reach them, it was necessary to risk himself in a tolerably large unsheltered and illuminated space. He did not hesitate. Those who were on his track had evidently lost the scent, and Jean Valjean believed himself to be out of danger. Hunted, yes; followed, no." Here's the quai by the pont-au-change-- a different quai, but gives you an idea of what the areas around the Seine often looked like.

(Then Jean Valjean sees Javert and the other police on the Bridge of Austerlitz, following him. He hurries towards the darker alleys of the city.)

"A little street, the Rue du Chemin-Vert-Saint-Antoine, opened out between two timber-yards enclosed in walls. This street was dark and narrow and seemed made expressly for him."

Here's an abandoned timber-yard-ish looking picture:

But Marville has no photographs of this street. I'd have to double check, but iirc this is the part where Hugo starts to 'make up' more street layouts. I wouldn't be surprised if this street really WAS made expressly for him (meaning Hugo made it up.) "The point of Paris where Jean Valjean found himself, situated between the Faubourg Saint-Antoine and la Râpée, is one of those which recent improvements have transformed from top to bottom,—resulting in disfigurement according to some, and in a transfiguration according to others. The market-gardens, the timber-yards, and the old buildings have been effaced. To-day, there are brand-new, wide streets, arenas, circuses, hippodromes, railway stations, and a prison, Mazas, there; progress, as the reader sees, with its antidote."

(Here Hugo talks about the Haussman renovations directly, claiming that if his street layouts are "inaccurate" it's because these are some of the Old Medieval Streets that were razed during Paris's recent renovations. He goes on for a while comparing Petit-Picpus to various other areas that were changed during the renovations.)

"Le Petit-Picpus, which, moreover, hardly ever had any existence, and never was more than the outline of a quarter, had nearly the monkish aspect of a Spanish town. The roads were not much paved; the streets were not much built up. (....) Such was this quarter in the last century. The Revolution snubbed it soundly. The republican government demolished and cut through it. Rubbish shoots were established there. Thirty years ago, this quarter was disappearing under the erasing process of new buildings. To-day, it has been utterly blotted out."

The Petit-Picpus, of which no existing plan has preserved a trace, is indicated with sufficient clearness in the plan of 1727, published at Paris by Denis Thierry, Rue Saint-Jacques, opposite the Rue du Plâtre;

and at Lyons, by Jean Girin, Rue Mercière, at the sign of Prudence.

Petit-Picpus had, as we have just mentioned, a Y of streets, formed by the Rue du Chemin-Vert-Saint-Antoine, which spread out in two branches, taking on the left the name of Little Picpus Street, and on the right the name of the Rue Polonceau. The two limbs of the Y were connected at the apex as by a bar; this bar was called Rue Droit-Mur.

The Rue Polonceau ended there; Rue Petit-Picpus passed on, and ascended towards the Lenoir market. A person coming from the Seine reached the extremity of the Rue Polonceau, and had on his right the Rue Droit-Mur, turning abruptly at a right angle, in front of him the wall of that street, and on his right a truncated prolongation of the Rue Droit-Mur, which had no issue and was called the Cul-de-Sac Genrot." Here is @everyonewasabird's attempt to puzzle this out:

It was here that Jean Valjean stood."

Then Jean Valjean escapes by pulling down an old oil lantern, strung up by ropes. Hugo notes that this would have been "impossible if the streets were lit with gas, the way they would be after the renovations. This picture shows an old oil lamp strung up by ropes:

Finally, Jean Valjean climbs over the wall into the Petit-Picpus convent. This convent is fictional. Hugo pretends it used to exists but is no longer around-- another relic of the early 19th century that has been lost over time.

TLDR:

Jean Valjean's escape through Paris is Hugo way of mourning the Paris he knew from before his exile, the Paris before the modern renovations. To quote Volume 2 Book 5 Chapter 1:

The author of this book, who regrets the necessity of mentioning himself, has been absent from Paris for many years. Paris has been transformed since he quitted it. A new city has arisen, which is, after a fashion, unknown to him. There is no need for him to say that he loves Paris: Paris is his mind’s natal city. In consequence of demolitions and reconstructions, the Paris of his youth, that Paris which he bore away religiously in his memory, is now a Paris of days gone by. He must be permitted to speak of that Paris as though it still existed. It is possible that when the author conducts his readers to a spot and says, “In such a street there stands such and such a house,” neither street nor house will any longer exist in that locality. Readers may verify the facts if they care to take the trouble. For his own part, he is unacquainted with the new Paris, and he writes with the old Paris before his eyes in an illusion which is precious to him. It is a delight to him to dream that there still lingers behind him something of that which he beheld when he was in his own country, and that all has not vanished. So long as you go and come in your native land, you imagine that those streets are a matter of indifference to you; that those windows, those roofs, and those doors are nothing to you; that those walls are strangers to you; that those trees are merely the first encountered haphazard; that those houses, which you do not enter, are useless to you; that the pavements which you tread are merely stones. Later on, when you are no longer there, you perceive that the streets are dear to you; that you miss those roofs, those doors; and that those walls are necessary to you, those trees are well beloved by you; that you entered those houses which you never entered, every day, and that you have left a part of your heart, of your blood, of your soul, in those pavements. All those places which you no longer behold, which you may never behold again, perchance, and whose memory you have cherished, take on a melancholy charm, recur to your mind with the melancholy of an apparition, make the holy land visible to you, and are, so to speak, the very form of France, and you love them; and you call them up as they are, as they were, and you persist in this, and you will submit to no change: for you are attached to the figure of your fatherland as to the face of your mother.

#les mis #les mis letters #lm 2.5.1 #lm 2.5.2 #lm 2.5.3 #lm 2.5.4 #Plz appreciate this post XD

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tismrot · 8 months

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GOOD OMENS in CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER (a fanfic helper)

I tried to find this online, but I only found bits and pieces here and there. This should be a very good tool when writing fanfics, or just for understanding the narrative - so, here's my best attempt at a timeline for the canonized events in the show. Let me know if I missed any, or if something is wrong! CHRONOLOGY of GOOD OMENS 4004 BC: Before the Beginning (Sunday, October 21st, Nowhere, no name for Crowley) Aziraphale meets Crowley as an angel in Heaven pre-Beginning and Crowley makes a star factory. 4004 BC: The Eden Wall (Rather more than 7 days later, Crawley) Crowley finds Aziriaphale on the Eden wall and they talk about right and wrong. Aziraphale gave his sword to Adam and lies to God about it. Eve looks about 6 months pregnant. 3004 BC: Noah’s Ark (Ancient Mesopotamia, Crawley) Crowley finds Aziraphale in front of the Ark and they talk about how God will drown kids. 2500 BC: A Companion to Owls (Land of Uz, Crawley) Crowley and Aziraphale work together to save Job's kids from God. 1353 - 1336 BC: Nefertiti's reign as queen, during which, at some point, Aziraphale did a magic trick for her. (Thebes/Luxor, ancient Egypt, Crawley) (unfilmed, just mentioned) We know he fooled her with a "lone caraway seed and three cowry shells" 33 AD: Crucifixion of Jesus (Golgotha, Palestine, name change to Crowley) Crowley (canonically confirmed female form) tells Aziraphale she showed Jesus the world. 41 AD: Oysters in Rome (41 AD) Aziraphale playfully tempts Crowley to go eat oysters with him at Petronus' restaurant. If this isn't innuendo, I don't know what is. 537 AD: Medieval England/King Arthur (Kingdom of West Essex) Aziraphale as a knight of the Round Table meets the Black Knight (Crowley) who suggests the Arrangement for the first time. Aziraphale says no. 1020: The Arrangement is agreed to (unfilmed, just mentioned in the book or by Neil) I can't find the exact date - tell me if this is wrong? 1040 - 1601: Crowley and Aziraphale act on their arrangement "dozens of times", as mentioned in the Globe Theatre. As far as I've understood this arrangement (correct me if I'm wrong) it means that whenever they receive orders from Heaven or Hell, they tell the other, compare notes, and if it takes place in the same area, they agree that just one of them has to go do both tasks. Either that, or both tell their respective bosses that the task has been done, because they would have cancelled each other out either way. Letters would probably be too risky communication other than "Let's meet up at....", so I assume they have seen a lot of each other during this time. 1500s: Something related to the Catholic Church and the Papacy (Rome?). (Unfilmed idea) My theory: Raphael/Crowley (Raffaello Sanzio da Urbino) works as painter in Rome from 1508 until his "death" in 1520. He was invited to Rome by Pope Julius II and was immediately commissioned to work on a series of frescoes for the Pope's private library in the Vatican Palace. Crowley can't enter consecrated spaces. Hilarity ensues. This would explain his conversation about helicopters (in the book) with Leonardo da Vinci. 1601: Hamlet (Globe Theatre, London) Aziraphale and Crowley meet inconspicuously as Shakespeare struggles with Hamlet (both actor and play), and Aziraphale agrees to do both his and Crowley's assignments in Edinburgh. 1650: Aziraphale does his first apology dance (unknown) Nothing more is known about this event. 1655: Agnes Nutter's book is published, and doesn't sell a single copy. 1656: Agnes Nutter is burned (Lancashire, England, 1656) After writing the Nice and Accurate Prophecies, she is burned by Pulsifer's ancestor. 1793: French Revolution (The Bastille, Paris) Aziraphale puts himself in harm's way by dressing like a nobleman while looking for crepes in revolutionary Paris, just so that Crowley will save him. 1800s: Aziraphale opens his bookshop. (Soho, London) I can't figure out when, it just says 19th century online. Crowley asks if Aziraphale wasn't supposed to open a bookshop when he saves him in the Bastille.

1827: The Resurrectionist (Edinburgh, October) Aziraphale and Crowley discuss morality, meet Elspeth and Wee Morag - and the body snatching doctor.

1827 - ????: Crowley sleeps or is in Hell We don't actually know long or exactly when, but in the book it's mentioned he only got up to go to the toilet once. Why?

1862: St. James’s Park, London Crowley is paranoid, Aziraphale won't give him holy water. 1862 - ????: Wild West meetup (Unfilmed idea) Neil Gaiman just had the idea, it wasn't filmed.

1928: Crowley buys the Bentley And he keeps it in tip-top shape until the Not-Apocalypse. 1933: Aziraphale gets his driving license (unknown location)

1941: WW2 Blitz (London) Church bombing, magic show, photo taken, shades of dark and light grey.

1967: Aziraphale gives Crowley holy water (Soho, London) ...And says Crowley goes too fast for him. He does it because Crowley is about to orchestrate the robbery of a church. One of the robbers is Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell, who we meet later. He offers his 'army' to Crowley.

1980s: Crowley designs the M25 (Hell) No other demons understand the whole thing about constant, low-level, effortless evil.

2007: Three children are born in a hospital in Tadfield The old switch-a-roo.

2007 - later that night: Godfather meetup (Soho, ca 2009) They're drunk, talking about whale brains and agreeing to raise Warlock as nanny and gardener.

2012 - 2018: Raising Warlock (Winfield House, England) He's way too normal! 2018: Not-Apocalypse (Saturday, August 11th, Tadfield Airbase) Do I need to explain this? 2019 - 2023: Beelzebub and Gabriel start meeting each other. We see them meet in an American bar, a Russian café and in the Resurrectionist in Edinburgh. 2020: Lockdown (London) Aziraphale goes on about cake, Crowley wants to come by and watch him eat. Aziraphale chickens out.

2023: Jimbriel (Soho, London) A naked archangel with amnesia shows up on Aziraphale's doorstep. --- UPDATED AND IMPROVED

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ancientcharm · 2 months

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The Mouth of Truth (Italian: Bocca della Verità) Massive ancient Roman marble mask. Rome, Italy. Photographed by Sailko in 2021.

It has been called "the mouth of truth" since medieval times, when it was believed that if liars put their hand there would be bitten.

In the Mirabilia Urbis Romae, it reads: << Next to the Church of Santa María de la Fontana is the Temple of Faun. This image spoke to Julian, the emperor known as 'The Apostate' and deceived him. >>

In all likelihood it represents the Titan god Oceanus. The sculpture dates back to around the 1st century.

Historians aren't quite certain what the original purpose of the disc was. It was possibly used as a drain cover in the nearby Temple of Hercules Victor, which had an oculus—a round open space in the middle of the roof, similar to that of the Pantheon. Hence, it could rain inside

The Temple of Hercules Victor, in the Forum Boarium. Built in the mid-2nd century BC.

Photo: ChromosomeGun-CC BY-SA 4.0 DEED-Wikimedia Commons

It is also thought that cattle merchants used it to drain the blood of cattle sacrificed to the Demi-god Hercules. In the thirteenth century the disc was probably removed from the temple and placed against the wall of the Santa Maria in Cosmedin. In the seventeenth century it eventually moved to its current location inside the portico of the church. The Santa Maria in Cosmedin church, at the Piazza della Bocca della Verità, it is the site of the ancient Forum Boarium (the ancient cattle market).

#ancient Rome #history #archaeology #Rome #Italy

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getodrools · 4 months

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okay we had priest nanami.. but what about priest higuruma? i feel like he fits it too 🤭🤭

໒꒰ྀི｡•̀ᴗ-꒱ྀི 🗞️ YUMM ! nonnieee my head is FULL and i might explode ! he definitely fits this role so well – his ominous aura just gives me the creeps ! ! alsooo, this is gonna be in the same universe with priest nanami — i couldn't help myself ! they'd work sooo well together D;

+ here is that priest nanami fic – that's about the same concept if you enjoyed this one ! <3

I 𝓲. I MDNI ୨୧ f! reader. church au. sacrilege. blasphemy. public sex/church sex (confessional box). religion talk. manipulation. cervix fucking (cause quite guys have big —-!). subtle (m) masturbation if you wink. dacryphilia. use of father. glory hole. oral sex (m). spit as lube. cum shot. | WC –> est 1.3k+

he knew what you did.

hiromi wasn't around as much. not from what you could see. you knew they both worked together, but never more…

he'd sulk with deep eyes, pupils wide and dilated behind hooded robes – his nose would peak out from the shaggy cloth like one with a medieval beak when he'd watch at the corner… unlike father nanami’s robes; heavenly and bright with hints of baby blue beneath, gold accents to hang, and the dusty blonde hair pulled it together too.

hiromi was the contrary.

he'd allow himself to be swallowed up by the dark corners in the church, and still. stiff with no movement, he'd watch. keep himself hidden almost as if he's locked in the confessional box with no say... hiromi was another priest, everyone knew of him, but ignored him – or acknowledge him as much as father nanami. nothing close to the praise he gets, even though everyone goes to him daily… you'd assume because he knew the darkest secrets your friends have, or all the lies they've told and they'd rather not speak upon it again, holding a slight worry towards a faded man that knows of every unknown.

people around town only heard him speak once or twice. they did all the talking, of course, he was one you could confess to. you never heard him speak. maybe a hum before but you couldn't even tell that was him either. he'd carry a small bible and a fist full of rosemaries.

they'd jingle when he sauntered.

“father, hiromi… i only come to you… because i have a confession…” that day was overwhelming.

it felt right – it felt amazing! you felt your whole body through and through, exploring it with the holy father of this church. you never felt closer to god, but it felt like the wrong way to take such a comfortable seat.

“y/n…” you had a voice he's heard echo down these halls and it was ringing. louder than the church bells itself, but his… it was dauntingly deep tearing. a deep rasp that made you flinch even with a thick wall between you both.

“i remember. once… three years ago you confessed to lying about the bible you stole.”

your bottom lip catches between clattering teeth. you still feel terrible to this day.

you never visited the conffensianl box often. the last time was intimidating, as if you knew you deserved that unnerving treatment for what you caused… even walking by it licked goosebumps up your spine, sometimes catching his eyes between the peeking wood; the whites of them becoming fuller as they'd follow every move…

“yes, you are right. but i was forgiven.” your thighs shift awkwardly.

“…”

silence and a small tap of the rosemaries moving was all you could hear. the heavy air pressuring at your lungs he created in such a small space was forcing words to spill out – easily, “i confess that i have sinned… and i repent from my… sexual sin, and i beg for your forgiveness.” you stumble quickly over that keyword.

god already knows of the details. so sparring yourself with a quick confession was your route.

“…”

“i want to obey your ways lord, and i want to honor you with my chaste… please..?”

your begging was cute.

“you've been fucked in the cunt before marriage. no man would want you now.” his vulgar spew made you gasp, eyes wide but heart sinking at the truth, “honor your words and show the lord you speak nothing but the truth.” hiromi’s voice dropped an octave rolling with a hard hiss as a small hole etching through panels filled with light that peers from father hiromi’s side.

you honored the sacred father through and through. the whole town knew too, the priests, of course, and sisters knowing your name so much you wanted to become one yourself… honoring the holy spirits angels in the church felt just as good and the priests only wanted your love for god no matter and always beside to direct you. you took nanami’s words once and he guided you, and another priest as close to him – you'd take that chance again to touch the clouds of heaven.

like it was destined.

like it was planned.

too stupid to notice anyway – and too trapped in this lope of always wanting to be forgiven…

. . .

the priest behind the wall dragged a middle knuckle up the slit of your pussy.

your eyes clench.

squeezing ever so tight, fine lines wrinkled into your features. it was cold as he slipped between the seeping pool of wet slick… your ass was pressed plush against the mahogany wood, nothing but fat folds pucker out the small hole as your hands held dear to the chair ahead, waiting.

he takes two digits and wrecked your sodden hole; spreading you wide with a quick scissoring – his middle finger dipping between with ease. with haste. no need to hear the small squeaks you babble out… the priest hooked in deep, cramming the hilt into you. hooking at your softest spots before popping his finger out; short-lived, a stringing trail of glistening still webbed between his digits.

he dammned, ‘flthy...’

the meat of his cock was freed sometime, or had it been jostled with earlier; edging to the wreck you cried out in, hearing your not-so-secrets spill out on the other side stiffen him up…

hiromi pressed the bulbous crown eagerly against your puffy folds. and with a sharp application of pressure, he squished the wetness of your chaste down; treating it to a haze of heat that left you gasping. your sodden silt wept in a vigorous stretch, full pentration and a wad of spit to your little hole made room for the invasive fill.

hiromi groaned at the tightness of your walls hugging him, and the warmth of your cunt sucking him in made the man instinctively hammer strong hips forward; deep, languid strokes left your cunt rippling and stretching – sensitive walls swelling in blossoming bruises, feeling hiromi barrel himself between the sweet heat of your legs in all focus to hurry and empty his balls…

your nothing but a church girl.

-- the church's girl.

your fingers uselessly clench down on whatever was in reach to fight off the awkward strain of hiromi ramming into your sopping depths. it was all over again, heavinly bliss jackharrming you out – just how father nanami stretched and fucked you over the stages pulpit, now bent in front of the hole in a confessional box with his holy brother…

all inches of tan, thick cockmeat stuffed you over the hilt. stiff pole pressing in deep until the leaking crown prodded at your cervix – your jaw tightening around prayers… webbing around his cockhead, he rammed himself into your perk cervix ‘till it hardened in bruises as your ass bounced against the wall and tight cunt fluttering full of cockmeat that stretched everything at once mercilessly.

hiromi‘s balls cradle up, tightening at your onslaught. the priest's cock throbbed, and burbled with cum.

“on your knees.”

it was quick, the empty gape clenched around nothing in need and you couldn't help but whine. twisting fast at his command – to fill another hole, your mouth instinctively aah’s in welcome.

wrapped in shadow only with arms delving out from the darkness gripped you close…

you never caught his face much when you visited, but you knew of the deep clover eyes above heavy bags and sunken skin were beneath his robes. but now you can only imagine how deep settled his features laid – possibly brows furrowed, his nose scrunching, eyes widening… but only his sacred dick flashed around your face…

he could see all of you and your pitiful shame. the small peaks he created over the years helped him watch your pretty eyes ogling upwards; and the carved wood you caught displayed mother mary herself.

nowhere's to blink.

you flinch.

at the time the embarrassment was immense, you could have hidden as a child may have – the vulnerability at mark to your naked frame crawled with a cold shiver; a rise of goosebumps layering cross naked flesh, face even running cold with sunken gape.

hiromi guided you – and your weeping mouth closer to the sleazy hole in his confession box. the small room with thin walls began to feel more squeezed in than usual – his towering body filling half the space on his side began to crowd yours… it was a nimble carved gap; only enough for a single pair of hands wrapped in the chains of roses with mary herself dangling off the side to crawl up your throat. father hiromi gave the supple skin a squeeze before tugging at your scalp.

your mouth panted out a wet ‘o’ in return.

“accept the lords offering.” the priest dipped his tip back into your mouth, “and the lord will forgive you.” old mahogany wood almost splinters at your forhead. the raw slip of his cock filled your throat and made you bubble with spit – words even foaming into webbed slick. it began to squelch when you tried to pray, speaking around a block full of dick meat was messy, and incoherent… but the soft hum vibrating around the thick of his bulbous cap was close enough. he could hear the rhythm of your prayers droning a longing chant and it was beautiful. the puffing of your cheeks before retching and spit stringing from tip to puffy lips was glorious...

you harmonize prayers around him – some syllables dropping or skipping words entirely, but no faster than the bubbling tears welting down your cheeks. your face was left ridden and stained, and the father was twitching as tears began mixing with sappy drool.

he could almost taste the shame thickening in the air.

hiromi was face fucking the truth out of you; the crown of his cock shoveling out spews of confessions each time his hips rocked out, only to crowd that small space again to the hilt… seeking and discovering secrets.

your eyes twitched and rolled back.

it didn't take much.

he kept himself in there for years.

the priest's thumb swipes at your tears, soothing at the burning skin but he wasn't here for empathy; this is a confession box, he curses and pinches at the taut flesh until you opened wider.

your tongue straddles his capped tip. tasting a tangy salt and fresh cum pooling at the soft ‘bowl’ you keep open for him. hiromi twitches and jerks the rest of himself out; a spunk of batter thickly ropes out onto your buds.

you look up, eyes watering with a banter – the carving of the holy figure looked back down at you...

<– BACK: PINNED ౨ৎ NEXT: MORE HIROMI –>

#🌐 𝐿𝒜𝒱𝐼𝐼 𝒲𝑅𝐼𝒯𝐸𝒮!#💌 !#ᝰ hiromi higuruma!#hiromi smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #hiromi jjk #higuruma hiromi #hiromi x reader #tw sacrilege #tw blasphemy #tw public sex #tw religious themes #tw dacryphilia #higuruma smut

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