#in addition to just usual [assume you have a usual literal human body] expressiveness options in posture / movement etc lol

[edwardwonghaupepelutivrusky4th]

wah i looove their designs and animation...

[themidnightfarmer]

Wingman || Lydia & Jared

Timing: Before the poisoning.

Location: Faetal Attraction

Tagging: @inspirationdivine & @themidnightfarmer

Description: Lydia and Jared take a night on the town.

Triggers: Violence tw

 Lydia buzzed with excitement. If you looked closely, you could see the tiniest blur around her ears, where the glamour didn’t quite stretch to cover her jewellery. It didn’t matter, though, because in a minute she wouldn’t have to wear the glamour at all. When Jared had told her he’d never been to faetal attraction, Lydia had sworn to fix it at once, so here she was, waiting for him just outside the door. “Jared! It’s wonderful to see you again!” Especially when she wasn’t frightened for her life. 

Jared wasn’t quite sure what to expect. He’d heard about the place, but up until recently he’d had no fae friends to go with. Anytime he’d gotten close either he was with a human friend that had been given a serious stink eye by the person at the door taking admissions, or he’d started to feel that tingly feeling in his fingertips. A feeling that until now had been unknown to him. However, this time, as he’d approached Lydia the feeling was known. He was with fae. His smile reflected his own excitement. “Hey!” He greeted her exuberantly. “You too! This was a great idea!”

Lydia smirked, tilting her head. “I can’t believe you haven’t been here before. You’re in for such a treat. That finger tingling of yours is going to be intense tonight. There are a few non-fae in here, but it’s mostly people like us in there.” She offered her arm for him to take, before leading him into the bustling, warm club. Her chest rang at all the other fae, in a technicolour crowd of every type of appendage on view. Lydia dropped her glamour as soon as she’d paid for them both to enter. “Where do you want to sit?”

He’d been such a hermit for so long, unaware of all the joys of being a fae, that Jared was fully dazed as they entered. He stumbled over the lip in the doorway and his eyes couldn’t stop moving. Person to person. It was incredible. “Wow.” he said less than eloquently. Looking down at Lydia in awe he just blinked at her for a moment dumbfounded. She was still Lydia, but without her glamour she was a whole new image to take in. His mouth worked soundlessly before Jared finally caught up with himself. “Anywhere you’d like. At the bar?”

Lydia caught him as he stumbled, looking up at his with a concerned smile until he had righted himself again. Watching him was almost as intoxicating as watching the crowd. This was how she wished Regan was. Full of wonder and excitement, rather than fear and doubt. Lydia followed his gaze to a woman with fluffy moth wings, a man whose wispy dark skin gave way to glorious antlers, an individual with skin like glass, more than a couple folks with horns. All sorts. Without her own glamour, Lydia literally glowed, her brown and yellow beetle-like shells shifting as she walked, dark translucent wings poking out between them. Her ears stretched to the tops of her head and were adorned with dozens of sparkling gems. “Like what you see so far? Bar it is. What do you want to drink?”

Dropping his own glamour wasn’t even a thought to Jared, he simply had forgotten that it was an option in public. He was so unused to it, even in his own home he was rarely seen without it. Although that might have been just in the hopes that someone might come to visit at any time. Even with their arms linked, Jared lagged behind Lydia as she led the way through the crowds. Watching her wings shift in the light and noticing her hair tangle lightly over a gem in her ear. He could see why she could be called a muse. He beamed and pulled out a stool for her when they arrived at the bar. “Let me buy you a drink, yeah? What would you like to drink? Pick your poison.”

He looked around like a toddler at the lightshow, and Lydia couldn’t help but giggle at his wonder. Not to make fun of his perspective, but to delight in him as much as he delighted in the space. She waved Julie over, one of the few humans in the entire establishment, and one of the few Lydia ever voluntarily interacted with. “Oh, in which case, I’ll have a red wine. They do a lovely Sauvignon here,” Lydia said, smiling warmly at his offer. “You know that you don’t have to look human here, right? There are no wardens, no dangers here. Everyone here is community. Cousins, even.” 

“Make that two large glasses.” Jared ordered of Julie before taking the seat beside his company for the evening. A sheepish grin took over his face and he slowly let his human skin fade. Black veins appeared first, followed by slightly glowing purple eyes. And then the horns, all four of them sprouting at once. His skin settled to grey and he shivered slightly. “Feels really weird.” the nymph commented, wiggling his shoulders as the usual soft connection to his charges doubled in strength. He gave out a laugh and rocked on his chair in wonder. “I feel like I’m doing something bad.” he admits with the air of a child who wasn’t even sorry that all the cookies were gone.

Lydia had seen him without glamour before, but not nearly long enough to truly and fully appreciate it. He looked eerie and dramatic, and all the more beautiful for it. From the grey pallor of his skin, to the distracting amethyst in his eyes. Like this, he couldn’t be mistaken for something human, and it made Lydia completely breathless. Even without her glamour, if one squinted one might consider Lydia human looking, like you could say for Regan and Deirdre. People like Felix, Morelia and Jared were completely different. “That is a tragedy. You should feel comfortable in your natural skin. You look beautiful like this.” 

It was a rush. Jared could feel a lot more of his connection to his creatures, and it buzzed in him like an old radio springing to life. He ended up shrugging his shoulders once again, as if shrugging into a coat and not just his natural form, just to get used to it in less high stress situations than he was used to. “Is that how you feel? Comfortable? I mean in a …. Like a  uh-” he struggled for the words to express what he wanted to know for a moment before nodding. “Comfortable rather than like you’re high? Is it something you get used to? Is it just me that feels like i just took a belt that was too tight off after dinner?”

“Yes, I feel more comfortable like this that with a glamour. A glamour takes concentration,” Lydia replied as Julie returned with their glasses of red wine, setting them in front of her. “Put it on my tab,” she said, otherwise ignoring the very human bartender. “Wait, when you take off your glamour you feel high? What on earth are you talking about?” Lydia laughed, sipping at her wine. “Like the belt, yes, or taking off a bra, but nothing close to feeling high. How often do you take your glamour off, exactly?”

Jared would have made a noise of disagreement at the mention of a tab, as he’d wanted to buy Lydia a drink. But as it was, he was a little too distracted to do much else than try and keep his feet on the ground. “It feels like Cap has sneezed and zapped me by accident again.” He tried to describe, “But in a good way.” Jared shrugged and smiled lifting the glass of wine towards hers to clink their glasses together. “Not often.It can fall when I sleep sometimes, but mostly I can keep it on non stop for a few days.”

“Sorry, you’re going to need to explain that. Who is Cap? Why would him sneezing zap you?” Lydia smiled despite her confusion, because the young nymph was ever so charming, even in his strange ways. She clinked glasses with him, before her eyes widened even further. “You sleep with it. Why? Do you have a partner or friend that lives with you who doesn’t know?” 

“Oh, Cap, as in Capacitor. He’s a new addition to my kids. He’s a Raiju I bought from some weird guy online. He’s a sickly little thing I think he’s allergic to dust. But he zaps.” Jareds knees were bouncing and he was speaking animatedly. The effects of taking the cap off of his body had him practically fizzing. He took a long sip of the wine and then set the glass down. “I used to. Grew up in a family of human deniers. There was something on me until my eighth birthday that helped hide me I think. But it wore off I guess so I learned to glamour fast. Endless trips to the hospital about my skin and all that you know? Not anymore though, Guess habits die hard. The only people who stay the night both know. Just don’t want to spook them I guess as well.” He smiled widely at Lydia. “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t realize it had been so long being normal.”

“Capacitor? That is darling,” Lydia smiled, and nodded as if she knew what a Raiju was. Apart from, of course, that it apparently zapped things. Which meant that it was likely another creature she likely wanted to avoid, no matter how sweetly Jared smiled around his wine glass. As he explained his childhood, Lydia’s smile fell slightly, dripping into something closer to sympathy.  “Right. Of course. I’m sorry.” All the same, he was grinning, bouncing and floating with his energy. Even if she flinched at him calling it normal. “This is you being normal. Look, there.” Lydia pointed behind him. “That Nix certainly looks interested in you from over here.”

“He’s a sweet little guy. I’m lucky he wanted to stay after I bought him.” Jared waved a hand as if dismissing her apology. “It was what it was. It was tough, but I’m happy with how it all turned out. Inherited a farm, and got to grow up in the weirdest town in the state.” The nymph looked over his shoulder recklessly, before whipping back around embarrassed when he heard Lydia's reasoning for having him look. His cheeks warmed to a slightly darker tone and he took another drink of his wine just for something to do with his hands. He laughed a little and figetted. “Right, I don’t even know all the rules anything like this involves. I assume there are fae dating rules and all sorts I have no idea about. I really do know almost nothing.”

“You bought him to free him, then?” Lydia asked curiously, looking him over anew.  “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re their nymph.” She nodded at his explanation, with a small smile, and opted not to comment on it again, because family could be complicated even for the best of reasons. There were members of her family Lydia didn’t talk about either. “What a beautiful farm it is too,” Lydia said instead. She grinned as he looked behind himself, his cheeks and ears flushing darker. All that nervous, skittish energy had to go somewhere, and Lydia chuckled as he drank frantically from his drink. “I think most rules don’t stretch much further than not having sex with humans, but not all fae here even agree with that.  Then some extend the rule to not having sex with other supernatural species. Dating really isn’t that complicated.” Lydia glanced back to the Nix with a small laugh. “She’s very determined to catch your gaze.”

“The advert made me feel like if he was truly what was advertised, then he couldn’t go to someone who would use him as described. He was so sickly when I got him, I was right about this one.” Jared confirmed. “They all need protecting, even if they don’t stay long.” He wasn’t a novice in dating, he’d had a few relationships, but he fell completely out of touch. It had admittedly been a few years since his last attempt, and adding fae rules into the mix made him even more nervous than he would have been normally. “No humans huh?” he echoed before adding “You sure it’s not you she’s interested in?” He asked, determined not to look around for fear of making a fool of himself. So instead, his fingers tapped on the bartop, and his knee continued to bounce with unspent energy. 

“That’s incredibly nobel of you. I know you’re their nymph, but it is still astonishing,” Lydia said, with real admiration glinting in her eyes. She swivelled her glass before finishing it off.  “Not all fae agree on that one either,” Lydia said airily, as if just recalling Beatrice’s existence didn’t make her stomach want to turn. As if she didn’t deliberately avoid thinking about Deirdre’s relationship prior to Morgan’s death. Lydia turned her attention back to the Nix with a much warmer smile. “Maybe she’s interested in the both of us, you don’t know.” Lydia chuckled warmly. “I’ll stop winding you up, shall I?” Lydia nudged him with her elbow. 

Jared was coming down off of the initial high of being free, and was settling into a warm appreciation for the feeling instead. “Cap is almost domesticated, they tried really hard with him. So while I would have liked him to be normal, it’s good he stayed. Not sure he’d have made it on his own. I just want what's best for them is all.” He shrugged but still bounced his knee and even brought his thumb up to bite at the nail on this thumb as she teased him. The nymph spared a sneaky quick glance back at the Nix before turning back and huffing a breath at Lydia when she nudged him. “It’s so easy it’s almost rude to wind me up like that.” he pouted at her. “Don’t take advantage of the blond.” he tutted, hiding his smile poorly.

Lydia’s lips twitched slightly. “That’s a shame. I don’t know much about the beasts and creatures that share our world, but the wild ones should always be wild. No matter how frightening they might be. I’m glad he has you.” Lydia laughed as he glanced back over at the nix, as if one last glance would answer his questions. “You’re right, I’m being ever so terrible to you.” Lydia winked, spinning her empty wine glass between her fingers. “You’ll have to forgive me.” She looked around at all these beautiful, familiar faces, and her heart rang loud and clearly. This was as much a home as any. “Do you have plans for the upcoming fairy ring season?”

“I’ll forgive you for now I suppose.” Jared said poking his tongue out at her childishly in response following this up with a laugh. His eyes flickered around the bar again when Lydias did the same. He still felt like he was doing something so dangerous and bad, and yet, everyone here was doing the exact same. It was so strange, but also too invigorating to want to leave. “Oh I usually just haul up on the farm for a while. Lock the gates and text my friends I’m going on migration. It’s usually better that way. I don’t do very well with it.” he laughs uncomfortably. “I’ve gotten carried away one too many times when I was young.”

Lydia laughed, pushing his shoulder as he stuck his tongue out at her. “I’m not convinced anyone does well with it. We all end up seeing far too much of each other, in every meaning of the phrase, humans and other species get annoyed, it’s a whole time.” A human had died the last time Lydia had been in a fairy circle, which didn’t altogether bother her, but she did want to spare her friends that did care such troubles. Fortunately, there were many, many activities one could get up to that didn’t involve murder or even torture. Some would almost certainly make Jared flush bright red.. “I don’t think getting carried away is to bad a thing, but I know not everyone agrees.”

He thought he’d picked up on what she was putting down and Jared blinked before his voice lowered into a whisper whilst leaning in. “So being naked is like a full thing is it? Like for real, the urge isn’t just like…. Me being a weirdo?” He’d met so few fae, that anything to do with the upcoming season he usually kept firmly to himself. Everything that came with it always seemed so odd, but he was slowly learning that this mindset was definitely more human, and he most certainly should abandon it. “I guess….never let myself enjoy it, or at least not for a good few years. How do you…?...but also keep it a secret?” He wanted to know everything. He had so much catching up to do. “You seem to do all this so gracefully, one day maybe I’ll be half as good at being ...normal?” He laughed noticing her glass empty and trying to catch the bartenders eye for another, smiling warmly when they filled Lydia's glass again.

“What, no! Everyone gets naked. It’s a whole thing. It’s very freeing, to be honest.  Everything about the fairy rings is freeing. No holding back, no compunctions, just joy and thrill,” Lydia giggled, a little too loud as she leant in to match his whispers. “Well, that part is tricky,” she agreed. “I know some people handle it better than others and feel they have more control. I usually limit my social media, and I don’t party with non-fae, which limits the exposure. I try not to be naked during the day, and keep things safe.” She rolled her eyes at his self deprecating nature. “You’ll learn, darling. You are still so young. You have centuries to learn. Mushroom season isn’t always for everyone, either.”

She described it so wonderfully. It sounded amazing to be free like that, to just throw away the shame that humans taught themselves and just be how you wanted to. In a smaller way that’s how Jared felt about being without his glamour in this bar. He’d been missing out by not knowing how to identify other fae, that was very clear to him now. “Gotta unlearn all the human things first, but I’m getting there,” He lifted his glass and tapped the wim with her now refilled one. “But hey, tell me your plans. You sound like you’ll have all sorts of great things going on. You have people to party with?” He sipped his wine and paused before asking more tentatively. “More friends with wings?” Was it rude to comment on another faes appearance? He had no idea, but her wings were definitely catching his eyes every time they shifted behind her. 

“You will get there,” Lydia agreed with an encouraging smile. He gave her hope for Regan too. She picked up her wine, swirling it as she thought about his answer. “The problem is the increased hunter presence in town. I tend to keep early august pretty easy. There aren’t as many rings around now anyway. If I happen to find myself in one, then that’s of course wonderful, but I don’t plan any until late august. From then? Normally, nonstop party until Halloween. Parties, with friends, with humans to prank, with the local leprechauns, whomever is available.” She smiled at him, wondering why he’d asked. “Not necessarily. Most of my friends here don’t have any, as it happens.”

Non stop partying sounded like a great time. Jared just knew he would never manage that, even if it wasn’t from the very start of the season.He loved his farm, but maintaining the place took a lot more than people realized. He’d be lucky to have even a few days free to parry without worry. “Wings are so pretty, but the idea is terrifying. Being able to wander away when you're high is already such a risk, but with wings you could just take off. And then flying itself seems so scary. Can you actually fly?” It seems the wine was loosening him up. He worried he’d overstepped again, but this time regretfully after he’d already said it.

“The idea of having wings is terrifying?” Lydia repeated, staring at him with wide eyes in confusion. “What? Jared, what?” She laughed, standing up. She looked around herself, making sure there was enough room behind her before she opened up the brown and yellow striped shells that stretched from her shoulder to the back of her knees. They raised up behind her until they were nearly shoulder heigh, where her wings rose up to her side. She was drawing more than a little attention and her wings began to trill and beat  as her feet lifted from the ground. She reached up to tap the ceiling, before coming back down. 

“No flying inside,” Julia said, and Lydia rolled her eyes and imitated her mockingly.

“My point is, I can’t fly any higher than I just did. I’m not going to buzz off into the night sky.”

“Yeah flying just seems wild.” Jared responded. He watched in awe as Lydia stretched out her wings and took to the air. She was up and down before he could even fully register what she was showing him. He nodded solemnly and then quickly his face took on a cheeky grin. "Oh so you can't fly far, you'd need strong wings like a Valravn to get anywhere in life huh? Pretty wings like yours can’t carry you far.” And while Lydia would see the teasing smile, it seems the tone was completely lost on a gancanagh trying to get another beer behind the nymphs back. Jared was woefully unprepared as he was grabbed and yanked off his barstool forcibly. 

“No, they can’t,” Lydia agreed, flicking them happily all the same. They were beautiful, and glowed with the same light that the rest of her did. They didn’t need to take her into the skies, just flutter her up into the branches of trees, and let her hover as she danced under the gaze of the mushrooms. Lydia didn’t notice the gancanagh either, not until it was much too late.

“You insulting her wings?” He asked gruffly. “You goddamn flatbacksh, no reshpect!”

“Sir, you’re drunk,” Lydia said, standing up in warning. 

“Better drunk than him,” The gancanagh said, aiming a swing for Jared’s head. 

His shirt was being held tight in the gancanaghs fist. Although he was taller than the other, Jared was completely lost with shock and had stumbled instead of finding his feet. This ended up putting the nymph at the mercy of the other fae. Jared raised his hands in panicked surrender but the other didn’t seem interested at all. His fist made contact and Jared could only tip his head back and take it in the jaw so that the drunk didn’t shatter his hand on the nymphs horns. Despite the threat, he didn’t want to cause lasting damage to someone standing up for Lydia. Jared wasn’t sure if he had been offensive or not. Addled by the punch and the drink, but perhaps he should have had better sense than to call himself stupid under his breath. 

“Stupid? I’ll show you stupid you bastard.” The gancanagh dumped the nymph onto the floor and set to work rearranging his no good disrespectful face. 

Jared brought his arms up finally to try and ward the other off. Stronger than him,but not by much he didn’t make very much headway.

Lydia jumped back with a yelp as the fight fell out. “Stop this!” She shouted, her voice jumping an octave and decibel. “Stop hitting him!” She winced, cringing away as Jared was punched in the jaw. Oh, lord, she hated violence. Fae were inevitably better than this, they had to be! They settled disputes with their tongues not their fists! “Stop this!” She yelped again, swatting the gancanagh’s dragonfly wings with her own firefly ones. It was enough to make him stop, if only because it was so rare for fae to ever touch each other’s wings as strangers, considered off limits and taboo. Especially for flatbacks, but wing-to-wing contact wasn’t quite as egregious. “Stop!” Lydia yelled again, grabbing the gancanagh’s arm and pulling him back with strength that didn’t seem like it ought to fit in her small frame. 

Jared was trying to do some damage limitation. As he was being punched he curled up, arms over his face to try and stop the other doing too much. But he couldn’t do anything until the gancanagh let up. As soon as Lydia had touched wings with the guy he froze to look over his shoulder at her. This was the chance Jared took to help Lydia push the guy off of him. Once free to struggle out from under the bulkier fae, Jared shoved him to the ground and found himself at Lydias side a lot more banged up than he’d expected to be on a chill night drinking with a new friend. And he felt enormously guilty about it. “I’m sorry.” He said to her instantly. He couldn’t believe he’d said something offensive enough to be punched. What sort of idiot fae was he? They’d gotten the attention of the whole bar at this point and Jared hunched over as the bouncer came to remove them all.

 “No more tonight. Go home.” The bouncer said, hauling the drunk gancanagh to his feet.

She wasn’t too shocked when Julia, snitching human, called the bouncer over, although Lydia did roll her eyes, extremely pointedly. As they walked back through the door, her glamour slipped back on like she might a coat. “Why? You didn’t offend me, my dear, I don’t even know what a veal-ravine is.” The gancanagh glowered at them, before stalking off. Lydia chuckled. “You know, I suspect that might just have been the start of the fairy ring season. What a ringing welcome to the incoming season. At least it can only go up from here.”  She winked at him, before looking him over. “Are you hurt?” She asked softly. 

Jared followed Lydias lead once again, his own glamour feeling a little bit like that feeling when a child was told playtime was over. It was back to feeling normal now that they were on the street. “I really thought I had considering…” His words trailed off as he watched the gancanagh walk away sheepishly. “First bird that popped into my head, skeletal raven, strong and amazing creatures. uh…. I didn’t really think it through.” Maybe describing the creature wasn’t the best way forward. Jared had to laugh when she spoke so positively about being thrown out of a bar. The nymph shook his head “Had a lot worse than a beat down, it’ll be okay.” Any discolouration was already covered by his glamour. Changing your skin so much tended to mean you covered an awful lot more than people thought. “Didn’t mean to get us kicked out, can I walk you home?” He offered her an arm. “In compensation.”

Lydia’s eyebrows vanished into her hairline at his explanation as to what, exactly, veal-ravines were. “As… fascinating as those sound, I think I’ll stick to my wings over anything skeletal.” She laughed softly, falling in step with him as she took his arm. Even in heels, her head barely reached his shoulder - they must have made quite the pair as they walked through the town. “Ah, c’est la vie. Company with you was all I was really looking for.” She said with a simple shrug. Faetal Attraction was the one losing out. “However, I must say, Mr. Nymph of Vicious Creatures, you really weren’t very vicious in there.”

“Oh yeah for sure, for sure.” Jared agreed on the spot. “Your wings are wonderful I was just trying to joke around...guess I’ll have to work on my humour too.” he chuckled accompanied by a shrug. Nothing he could do now, but try and remember wings were definitely a no go topic in public. The nymph makes a noise of disapproval and bumps his hip into her. “Hey now, just because my kids are vicious doesn’t mean I have to be. I’m soft so my kids can do the damage. Plus I thought I’d messed up, wouldn’t have been fair.” He pouted at her pitifully. A master of the puppy dog look as he’d been able to replicate the eyes of one of his bonedoggle pups when they were whining. “You absolutely overpowered the guy though, my hero.”

Lydia snickered as he hip bumped her. “You are a big softie. Not the only one in town, either.” He pouted at her, and Lydia resisted his puppy eyes for a whole second before giving him a light push. “That isn’t playing fair.” Lydia laughed as they reached the causeway, the sea still and soothing on either side of them. “Oh gosh. If he’d thrown a punch at me, I would have gone down like a stack of dominoes. We’re a strong species, but that doesn’t mean I know what to do with it, beyond lifting couches to clean under them.”

“Well being kind doesn’t cost a thing, so maybe I’m just trying to lead by example. See if it’ll rub off on the people who need to know that the most...like not letting that drunk guy shatter his hand on my horns. Boy would he have really not been happy with that.” Jared laughed and stumbled sideways slightly before pulling himself back in with their linked arms. “Ah but why be fair when you can win by being cute?” The thought of the other fae being punched didn’t sit well with Jared, she was so small, not defenseless, definitely not weak, but the ganacash had been rather huge in comparison. “You clean under couches?” He asked jokingly to brush past the image of her being knocked out in his mind. The breeze was pretty nice as they continued to walk. He was letting her lead the way considering he had no idea where she lived, but it seemed to be a really nice area.

“Being kind cost you a punch!” Lydia disagreed vehemently. “Although no, I suppose punching your horns would be rather… unpleasant. Then again, he oughtn’t have been aiming for your horns in the first place.” She rolled her eyes, although he was entirely correct - Jared was cute as hell, in both meanings of the word. “Well, I normally have a cleaner in twice a week to do it for me,” Lydia winked, leading them towards Harris island. “But yes, should the need arise. Are you saying you don’t?”

“Ahh what's a punch in a bar every now and then. Maybe the guy thought horns were sensitive or something. They’re absolutely not, but drunk brain can get to you if you’re not careful.” Jared reasoned for the guy who’d clocked him in the face. “Ohhh fancy, a cleaner. If I could afford one I don’t think they’d be too pleased with the state of the place, even after Nell and Blanche moved in and out again.” The nymph laughed. “I didn’t really think about lifting the couches, I just sort of...sweep around it? Probably harbouring some cute new kids under there soon. Dust bunnies are adorable.” He nudged her playfully. “You should let one move in.”

“Drunk brain is no excuse for such…. Abhorrent behaviour. Jared, you are far too kind to the man who punched you,” Lydia said, her affectionate smile softening the comment. She rolled her eyes, not about to be shamed for her well earned wealth - she’d worked hard for it! So had her humans. “That’s the great thing about cleaners. You pay them not to judge you.” At his suggestions, Lydia couldn’t help but pull a mildly disgusted face. “Jared, you could be the cutest person in the whole town, and you would still never be able to persuade me to let a dust bunny move in. Having a dog around is bad enough, in terms of the mess.” Lydia stopped in front of her mansion, modern and gleaming with its large windows on every floor. “Unfortunately, this is my stop, and I must bid you goodnight, my dear.”

The nymph waved her worries away. What was done was done, and truly Jared had no hard feelings for the ganacash. Maybe the guy was too quick to jump the gun, but clearly he had some bad experience with people talking about wings. The change on Lydias face however sent Jared into a whirlwind of laughter. “Woah really? Not even if I do the puppy dog eyes? Dust bunnies are adorable!” He was only teasing, even if everything he said he did consider true. But his outlook on creatures would never match up to other peoples. He’d come to accept that. Stopping at the door Jared looked up at the house and grinned. “Nice place. Goodnight Lydia. Thanks for taking me out, and not letting that guy bash me in.” Jared was a trail of light laughter as he walked back the way they’d come, waving at Lydia all the way until he was gone from her sight. 

[scripttorture]

This is probably too big a question but how do I reasonably do torture when fantasy elements are involved. What things can I say ok let's do this because it's fantasy and I can make up the rules, and what would still be wrong to do because whatever reason.

It’s not too big a question and it’s an important question.

The thing is I don’t believe there are many hard rules in writing and the advice I’d give for writing torture in a fantasy setting is broadly the same as the advice I’d give for writing torture generally.

There’s a post over here that covers the most common torture apologia tropes.

Whatever the genre and story I think we should avoid echoing torture apologia.

But what this essentially boils down to is not creating a story that shows torture as harmless, justified or ‘good’.

Once you’re familiar with the tropes and why they’re wrong avoiding torture apologia becomes a lot easier.

I’m keeping that short (and hoping/assuming you’ll read the Masterpost) because I think it’s worth talking about how this effects fantasy in particular. I’m also focusing on themes related to fantastic worlds or cultures rather then characters.

One of the biggest genre specific things to watch out for is whether you’ve built a justification for torture or abuse into the world itself.

As a common example let me take the truth spell. Torture does not work as a method of interrogation, you can read more about that here. But the idea that it does and that people ‘always talk’ under torture pervades fiction. And fantasy authors sometimes take these same ideas and end up creating a ‘truth spell’ that always works because it causes terrible pain.

Now I want to stress that most authors are not doing this because they personally support torture. They’re doing it because accurate information about torture is really hard to find and these tropes are so common in fiction that a lot of people assume they’re true.

And because those assumptions are so common it can be really easy to build torture apologia into a fantasy world.

This does not mean that I think you should avoid using dark magic, magic that causes pain, mind control or any of the other classic ‘bad’ magic in fantasy stories. It just means taking a bit more time to think about what it does and how it works.

So for instance one of my fantasy stories has magic that can be powered by the bodies of living creatures. One of the decisions I made when I thought about how it functions was that this magic was a lot more powerful when this use is consensual.

This means that there are powerful characters who got to the top by abusing and sacrificing other people. But their magic power is dwarfed by a woman who used consensual non-lethal ‘sacrifices’ to get her power. The world and the magic isn’t providing a ‘good reason’ for the bad guys to abuse people.

And I got to make the genocidal maniacs quake in fear because a middle aged housewife was in their general vicinity and did Not Approve of the mess they’d made.

Think about the way your magic system is structured. Think about the implications involved in it.

And think really carefully about whether any of those implications, those follow-throughs create a situation where torture becomes justified.

That doesn’t mean you can’t have villainous characters, or characters using magic for awful things. It means making sure you haven’t structured the world to encourage them to do so.

As an example; I read the online comic Freakangels several years ago. The titular group are a collection of teenagers who all have psychic powers to varying degrees. Most of them are living in a sort of post-apocalypse London with a small community they protect and help.

One of the characters sets herself up as the police-figure. Part way through the story the other Freakangels find that she’s built a pit where she tortures people. They call her out on this and they also point out it’s ‘unnecessary’ because she can read minds.

She responds by saying that taking specific information from a mind is complicated and it’s easier to ‘see’ the answer if you ask people questions. The torture provides a handy ‘excuse’ for how she inevitably comes to know the answer.

And that’s using a magic system to provide a rational, consistent in-world justification for torture. Even if torture wouldn’t ‘work’ ordinarily.

The other big thing I see in fantasy settings is structuring racial or cultural groups in such a way that makes violence and torture the inevitable and ‘right’ response.

I think there are… issues with the idea of writing groups of people as innately and irredeemably evil. Not all of those issues are to do with torture and I’m not an expert on racism. I know that from a personal perspective stories that characterise any group as automatically evil make me deeply uncomfortable.

From the point of view of this subject area- I accept that we’re stepping into territory where my personal biases are at play. Painting violence as the inevitable and ‘right’ response is a mainstay of a lot of popular fiction and as a pacifist I don’t believe violence is ever right. An enjoyable addition to fiction sometimes yes, but never right. An awful lot of people disagree with that opinion and I’m not here to demand you change that. Which makes it difficult for me to think of a way to express this point.

I suppose that once again it comes down to how the world is built up. It’s all very well to have a character say 'These people only understand violence!’ or 'War is our only option!’ it’s another thing to create a group of people for whom that is literally true.

I’m thinking of orcs, drow, gnolls, trollocs and the like. Creatures that we are told by the narrative behave in more or less human ways, think (although they are usually portrayed as stupid), use tools and language. But also, somehow, are only interested in fighting, take joy in killing or torturing others and…. don’t actually seem to have a culture around anything but violence.

They also don’t seem to devote any time to farming, herding, making shelters, healing each other or making the tools they use. Which raises the issue of how the hell they manage to march anywhere without starving to death, collapsing from exhaustion or having their trousers fall off.

I understand the imagery and at least some of where it comes from. It’s the Mongols appearing suddenly on the horizon. It’s the Vikings bringing their shallow bottomed ships further inland then people thought possible.

But people are not relentless killing machines. We’re pack animals that are geared to bond with each other, to cooperate. We are also, like any self respecting mammal, smart enough to bugger off when there isn’t any food on offer.

I feel like the way fantasy tries to tac on this drive to kill fundamentally can’t fit with a human-like mentality. I also don’t see how it can fit with a pack animal of any kind. Because this particular fictional structure puts the 'killer’ part first, to the detriment of cooperation and basic survival.

Essentially I see these sorts of fantasy races as the author trying to have their cake and eat it too: they want an armed monstrous threat but they can’t be bothered to make them behave in ways that are internally consistent.

They want long term societies and cultures of torturers, standing armies that are always fighting/abusing others. Which on a really basic level is unsustainable. The creatures they describe would not be a long term threat. Because they’d starve to death.

The fantasy stories surrounding these cultures generally use some form of torture apologia. Backstories explaining these creatures sometimes say they started off as people 'corrupted’ or 'broken’ by torture, which is essentially another way of saying that torture survivors are dangerous.

I won’t stand here and say that torturers are never torture survivors themselves but my instinct is that this is a lot lot rarer then fiction would have us believe. Survivors are no more or less dangerous then everybody else.

And I personally feel that using monsters as the only torturers in the story is a disappointing cop-out to many of the philosophical questions torture raises in a narrative.

We are all interesting in why people behave in monstrous ways. Answering this with ‘they’re just monsters’ feels dismissive and it sidesteps any attempt at genuine self examination.

Some of these fantasy races use slavery. But their slavery is 100% effective because captives 'break’ under torture and become absolutely obedient to their masters. Which is another false, problematic fiction surrounding torture.

The use of slavery in fantasy stories generally bears little resemblance to slavery in reality.

There’s no- fear of uprisings or attacks, which characterised slavery-based society in the New World. There’s no culture or comradery among the enslaved peoples. There are no small acts of resistance. These people wait patiently in suffering for someone to come and rescue them.

I feel like fantasy often treats enslaved people as if they lose their personhood. Their personalities, beliefs, hopes, fears no longer seem to effect their actions.

In much the same way that badly written female characters could be replaced by a ‘sexy lamp’ with little difference to a plot; enslaved characters in fantasy can often be replaced by- well anything that acts as a cheap sympathy grab.

They’re characters who are more defined by their over-the-top suffering in the story then by any sort of humanity.

I suppose if monstrous fantasy races are ‘torture survivors as dangerous threats’ then slaves in fantasy are ‘torture survivors as passive objects’.

Conversely fantasy is also one of the few genres where I still see the idea of ‘happy slaves’.

Fantasy has a tendency to present atrocities without having much real investment in the fallout or even an acknowledgement of what it’s describing.

The clearing of hundreds of villages is ethnic cleansing. The mass enslavement of a population is a war crime.

Perhaps one of the most ubiquitous mistakes in fantasy is presenting someone else’s lived reality as if it’s purely a fictional or historical thing.

Villages are being wiped out and cleared today in Myanmar.

Religious minorities are being subjected to mass incarceration in China.

Slavery is alive in every country in the world. And so is torture.

I think the most jarring thing I regularly see in fantasy stories is authors (especially Western authors) treating these topics as if they’re just fictional tropes.

There are probably more tropes and cliches particular to fantasy then I’ve listed here. These seem to me like the main ones.

In the end though, whatever the genre, it boils down to something simple: is the story set up in a way that respects survivors’ experiences or a way that belittles them?

Edit: To clarify I am not in any way against authors writing torture scenes. If a detailed description; fits your story, serves the narrative, treats victims as people and treats torture as a serious crime, then your story might benefit from that description. 

To paraphrase TV tropes: sometimes the anvil needs to be dropped.

But don’t think you are obliged to write these sorts of scenes. Instead consider whether they benefit your story or whether the story is more powerful without them. 

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[twitchesandstitches]

the MILF fleet have acquired several extraordinarily powerful relics said to have empowered the 13 Primes, ancient gods and guardian figures of ancient Cybertron and much of the known multiverse; by studying these relics, they have created powers that emulate their effects and can permanently bestow them on certain beings. Of note are the Transformation Cog of Amalgamous Prime, which can bestow the power to transform into any form, and the Enigma of Combination, which allows anyone who ‘solves’ it to merge with others into combined forms. Thus far, the crew has only successfully made a power from the latter: Fusion, which allows anyone using it to freely combine with others with that power into a larger form with combined powers, and also forms the basis of universal fusion and combination compatibility for everyone in the crew.

In theory, the Artifacts of the Primes have immense power supposedly drawn from Primus, the creator-deity of the Transformers and, if legend serves, all living things, if perhaps in either the sense of laying the roots for them or adopting them in an informal fashion. While those artifacts are known to give great power to the Transformers specifically, organics can benefit from the same abilities, and this has helped the fleet develop now powers from studying them.

The Cog, however, despite its promise of infinite potential for body modding and shapeshifting powers, remains stubbornly hard to figure out. The fleet, despite having had posession of it for a long time, have only a single solid mod to show for it, which is often called the Elastic Adaptation Refit, and is nearly universal among all save the most magically inept and determined monoformers; (Transformers who refuse to transform into other modes or adopt new ones).

With Transformers themselves, this is a mixture of an extensive and fairly invasive - but painless - refitting that, over the course of a year, slowly causes the organ responsible for the transformation process, the Transformation Cog or T-Cog (of which it is believed Amalgamous’ perfect cog is a perfected version malicious forces have downgraded them from) to distribute throughout the body. As normal t-cogs are geared towards specific forms based on design and location, this permanently sets the Transformers’ body into a super adaptable state, allowing them to adopt any form, as their body is able to generate the necessary body modifications to imitate or emulate that form - kibble, as they call it - by simply moving around existing mass.

It also gives their body a library, of sorts, of forms they can ‘stock’ and scan new forms to use as a baseline for one they create themselves, or imitate it in its entirety. Most ‘bots top out around seven or so for even the oldest and biggest ‘bots, and most maintain only three or so, including their robot mode. Take note that Transformers with this refit still can only assume forms that naturally fit their mass and natural inclinations; a big bruiser of a bot can take on the body of a robot whale or dragon, a tank, a truck, a cargo plane and so on… but not a motorcycle, a muscle car or a hoverboat. NAturally inclined to expressions of strength, they have a very hard time taking on lighter and speedy forms, or bodies so large as to be outside their weight class. Something similar would apply in reverse; a ‘bot built for speed is going to suffer trying to turn into a tank; one might become a fast robot, a race car, a cheetah and a speedbot, but not a truck.

This has resulted in a kind of extreme body dysphora specific to Transformers; assuming a form drastically outside their preferred varieties is physically draining and absolutely exhausting to maintain, and will invariably be psychologically damaging, and most often will result in a panic or berserker frenzy as they literally eject the kibble and assume a form that just feels right to them, and may take decades to recover from the horrors of it. Even having the option to assume those forms is a psychological wound; knowing the potential is there is like having a festering illness eating away at them.

Finally, Transformers are, barring the use of additional modded powers that allow them to grow larger or shrink, limited by body mass. It’s a fandom joke that scale in Transformers is screwed, but in this case, a Transformer must either transform into a shape of the same overall mass as their robot mode - even if its structured differently - or compress it in someway, though the latter is a complicated skill, as seen with two-wheeler bots that turn into human-sized motorcycles despite being over 14 feet tall. Thus, they cannot transform into something a LOT larger than them without being physically frail in the new size, or shrink without being under a lot of stress and inevitably popping out of it.

But waht, you might ask, does this mod do for non-Transformers? Good question!

Basically it gives those who don’t have a pre-existing ability to shapeshift the power to adjust their bodies between several modes of their own; in most cases, among the fleet for example, this means they can choose various hyper body types they can switch between depending on circumstance or mood. For instance, while most of the crew are gigantic milfs or amazons of varying descriptions, an individual with this ability could instantly shift from being an ultra-thicc MILF to diverting that body essence into raw muscle mass, growing vastly more beefy and even shaping their muscles into super-cut definition.

Or, she could go from having boobs bigger than her and shift it downwards, right into her hips and butt so her pants explode and the wall behind her has two gigantic butt-shaped imprints in them.

And of course, it is possible to compress that mass into a more restrained form, making the user way more physically dense and, consequently, far more resilient and strong, and her blows almost certainly fatal for enemies.

Most treated individuals will develop several modes in this fashion (like Amazon, Hourglass, Mega Pear, Boob Mountains, and so forth), switching between them to get through doors or other mundane concerns, or even weaponizing them, but this isn’t particularly common. Some even use this to digest meals instantly, turning the body fat into the places they like.

Finally, note that almost all magic users have a mild variation of this power and can alter their bodies as a benefit from their own abilities, but not usually to this extent. Much like how this power enhances Transformer mode possibiltiies, this enhances magical body image realization.

It also increases Gem powers of shapeshifting, though rather than giving the Gems a library of different forms, it make it significantly easier for Gems to alter their projections and giving much higher returns on turning magical energy and light into mass for their new forms. More to the point, though, it completely expands a Gem’s ability to reshape their ‘default’ projections. Most Gems are limited by the facets they were force grown into, which also determines their function in Gem society, but with this transformation they can effectively choose whatever default form they please - with some restrictions based on their Gem type; a slender Pearl will have a very hard time maintaining a Quartz’s thiccness - and can shapeshift fairly freely even if they normally cannot.

This also means that Gem fusions can be very monstrous looking, since they are no longer confined to their default appearances or different Gem varieties. Most Gems still tend to default to forms somewhat similar to their original ones, as it is psychologically difficult to seperate their self-image and most Gems associate largely with their function. There are exceptions, as with Gems who identify most with a specific caste other than the ones they are expected to be by Homeworld standards.

[loveanimalstory-blog]

We need to stop letting our pets get fat

When I checked out my appointment calendar for the day, I assumed something must be wrong. Someone who worked within the fitness industry was bringing his cat into the Tufts Obesity Clinic for Animals. Did he confuse us for a special quite weight management clinic? Is he looking to urge muscle on his cat or even kitty protein shakes? I was utterly surprised once I involved my appointment within the lobby and an athletic man stood up with an almost 20-pound cat! I asked if I could speak bluntly with him. Why does someone who clearly knows tons about keeping healthy got to bring his cat to a veterinary nutritionist? What would he say if the cat was one among the people he helps to stay fit every day? Our conversation then went something like this… “Well, I’d tell her, suck it up, buttercup. Do some kitty pushups and no more treats!” “Well, I even have to ask, then, what’s stopping you from doing this together with your cat?” With a worried look of guilt on his face, he replied, “Well, Dr. Linder, I mean… she meows at me…” This was the instant I noticed that I used to be treating pet obesity all wrong. I needed to focus less on the pet and more on the connection between people and their pets. That’s what’s literally cutting the lives in need of the dogs and cats we love such a lot. An obese pet isn’t a cheerful pet As with humans, obesity in pets is at epidemic proportions. Over half the dogs and cats around the globe battle the bulge. While overweight pets might not face an equivalent social stigma as humans, medical and emotional damage is being done all an equivalent. Obesity in animals can cause complications in almost every system within the body, with conditions starting from diabetes to osteoarthritis. Owners often say they don’t care if their pet is “fat”—there’s just more of them to love! It’s my job to then allow them to know there’s less time to supply that love. A landmark lifespan study showed Labradors who were 10-20 percent overweight—not even obese, which is usually defined as greater than 20 percent—lived a median 1.8 years shorter than their trim ideal weight counterparts. Another study shows that obesity indeed has emotional consequences for pets. Overweight pets have worse scores in vitality, quality of life, pain, and affective disorder. However, the great news is those values can improve with weight loss. Furthermore, humans struggle to succeed even within the best conditions—and so do pets. In one study, dogs on a weight-loss program were only successful 63 percent of the time. Showing love through food So where exactly is that the problem? Are foods too high in calories? Are pets not getting enough exercise? Is it genetics? Or can we just fall for those puppy dog eyes and overfeed them because they need actually trained us (not the opposite way around!)? From my experience at the pet obesity clinic, I can tell you it’s a touch of all of the above. It seems veterinarians and pet owners could also be a touch behind the curve compared to our human counterparts. Studies show that it doesn’t really matter what approach to weight loss most humans take – as long as they stick with it. But many in medicine focus more on traditional diet and exercise plans, and fewer on adherence or the rationale these pets may become obese to start with. (This should be easy, right? The dogs aren’t opening the fridge door themselves!) However, the sector is beginning to understand that pet obesity is far more about the human-animal bond than the food bowl. In 2014, I worked among a gaggle of fellow pet obesity experts organized by the American Animal Hospital Association to publish new weight management guidelines, recognizing that the human-animal bond must be addressed. is that the pet owner able to make changes and overcome challenges that may hamper their pet’s weight loss? One interesting editorial review compared parenting styles to pet ownership. As pet owners, we treat our cats and dogs more like relations. There’s a deeper emotional and psychological bond that wasn't as common when the family dog was just the family dog. If vets can spot an overindulgent pet parent, perhaps we will help them develop strategies to avoid expressing love through food. A healthier relationship Managing obesity in pets would require veterinarians, physicians and psychologists to figure together. Many veterinary schools and hospitals now employ social workers who help veterinarians understand the social aspect of the human-animal bond and the way it impacts the pet’s care. for instance, a dog owner who has lost a spouse and shares a frozen dessert treat nightly with their dog could also be trying to exchange a practice they wont to cherish with their spouse. A caseworker with a psychology background could help prepare an idea that respects the owner’s bond with their pet without negatively impacting the pet’s health. Tips and tricks for pet weight loss Having trouble together with your own pet's weight loss? Here are some troubleshooting strategies to undertake Problem Solution My pet begs all the time. First, ask your vet, but if you’re meeting your pet’s calorie and nutrient requirements, your pet may think they have quite they do! Also, try substituting treat times for other social activities, like grooming or walking. Finally, you'll divide up some of the diets to use as treats rather than meals, or divide the food into more frequent, smaller meals. My pet cries all night: Cats especially wish to erode night, so I found out feedings right before bedtime. found out automatic timed feeders to travel off during the night. Or provide hidden toys or treats that your pets can search for throughout the night. Also, confirm you don’t reward the behavior attentively or food. Either put an idea in motion to avoid it entirely, or ignore it, but never reward it. My pet steals other pets' food: Consider separate meal feeding options. Talk together with your vet to ascertain if there's one food you'll feed to all or any pets within the house if possible. you'll offer food puzzles to hamper and separate feedings or try products that restrict food access supported a programmable collar. My pet won't eat the new food: Gradually introduce a replacement of food over one week. Offer the new food side-by-side with the present diet, with the gradual removal of the standard food. If that does not help, talk together with your vet about diet alternatives with different textures and moisture content. you'll also try using treats for up to 10 percent of the general calories, as a palatability enhancer. Avoid offering alternatives if the pet skips a meal; however, don't allow cats to travel longer than 24 hours without consuming any meals. The Conversation, CC-BY-ND Source: Tufts Clinical Nutrition Service

At our obesity clinic at Tufts, physicians, nutritionists, and veterinarians are working together to develop joint pet and pet owner weight-loss programs. we would like to place together a healthy physical activity program, so pet owners and their dogs can both improve their health and strengthen their bond. We also created a pet owner education website with additional strategies for weight loss and pet nutrition. Programs that strengthen and support the human-animal bond without adding calories are going to be critical to preserve the loving relationship that's the rationale why we adopt our pets, but also keep us from literally loving them to death by overfeeding. Hopefully, we will start to chip away at the notion that “food is love” for our pets.