#Roc Pile

[r04ch4ch3]

[gravecats]

Mf uhhhh Trailer Park Boys as tweets/textposts/whatever PART THREE. I am normal about this show. (Apologies for the shit image quality, tumblr destroyed them)

Part 2

Part 1

[owlrageousjones]

I’ve been getting back into dwarf fortress now that there’s a steam release (and relearning the menus because they went and moved things about)

I’ve created a nice, flourishing little fortress, and I tried my hand at making paper and creating a library, and assigned my best (only) thinking dwarves to it to come up with new ideas and write them down

so far they’ve written ‘Shapes: Fact or Fiction?’ and ‘Shapes: A New Approach’, so I can only assume that my dwarves do not believe in geometry and are having arguments about it

[darkpoisonouslove]

Hearts to Ashes

Summary: The final battle between the Company of Light and the Coven ended differently. Domino's population wasn't trapped in Obsidian and the planet did not turn into an arctic desert. Instead, it's burning up, unfit for life. Griffin is determined to fix her mistakes and save it and the friends she still has left. AU.

AO3 | FFN

CW: mentions of blood and death

I've decided to try my hand at doing a full Femslash February but with, like, zero pressure on actually completing it (or well, as little pressure as I can manage). I am using these prompts but in whatever order I feel like.

Day 1 - Apocalypse

Marion's like "I will Sauron the shit out of this". Everyone suffers, including her. Enjoy!

The air already burned in her throat, her lungs. Making it to the entrance of the library a few steps ahead was an inhuman feat. Every time her feet met the earth smoke and ash erupted around them, climbing her legs and torso to swallow her whole, choke and blind her despite the enchanted scarf covering her mouth and nose and the slits her eyes had become even behind the glass of the protective goggles.

The tear-stains on her cheeks were indistinguishable from the sweat pouring down her forehead and sides. She’d only just left the palace and used her magic to appear on the back of the Roc. Climbing it was out of the question – the stone that wasn’t charred to cinders crumbled upon the lightest of touches. Somehow now that the bird was grounded for good, it was even more impossible to track – blending into the rest of the Dominian landscape that had long turned from a wasteland to a heaving pile of ash under the blazing hot sphere of fire in the sky.

It turned like an eye, like a cat’s ear in the direction of the detected motion. At least it had back when anything could survive out on the surface and the only rain hadn’t been sparks of magic setting the soot on the ground on fire. Now it only stared beyond the blood red and black horizon, through light years of space to scour any remaining corner of the universe it hadn’t reached into.

Bile scorched Griffin’s throat this time, more acidic than the plumes of smoke making up the air. Her muscles spasmed, fighting the urge to vomit.

It was irrational. Anything entering the atmosphere of Domino would burn up into nothingness long before it reached the black ground. Still, that didn’t help against the image in her head of what had once been Solaria.

The kingdom of the two suns had thrived before another ball of flames had turned their skies into a wildfire. The whole planet had burned and burned like a torch lighting up the worlds surrounding it and threatening to swallow them as well. She’d been there to help prevent that. She’d watched Solaria shrivel and die, only an empty crust left that had disintegrated in a matter of hours into fine dust spreading through the rest of the universe like an omen.

Griffin smothered the image before it could do the same to her. Domino’s cinders sticking to her skin already burned, made her want to claw it off.

The heavy doors of the library were sealed with a sigil, the letter M etched into them. She had to suppress the shiver running down her spine. It was too hot to waste energy on the familiarity of it, the similarity it bore to Valtor’s mark. All that mattered was that she not fail a second time to rid the world–this world–of disaster.

The spell Faragonda had procured for her was freezing in her hands, singed the tips of her fingers through her gloves. She didn’t flinch. The sigil took most of the damage – eaten through as if she’d poured acid on it.

The magic holding it together snapped clean in half. The doors wailed as the full force of the inferno raging outside them hit them. Then again as they opened with a motion of her hand.

Soot and ash and heat washed over the still air of the library leaving black traces over the floor and windows only to be repelled by the protective spells on the shelves. The image of the tomes on them rippled and shimmered like a distant mirage in the desert.

Griffin trailed in more dirt. Her footprints were the only sign of a presence in the otherwise untouched library. No books were scattered over the tables in the entryway and through the charcoal residue covering every glass surface she could still see the scrolls and parchments resting undisturbed in their cases. If not for the heart in her throat, everything was in its place just like they’d left it that day before the final battle with the Coven. As if they hadn’t returned since then, hadn’t spent days–weeks–on end poring over every letter, every symbol on the paper only for their leftover hope to thin out and tear first.

She forced herself to walk further inside, seek shelter from the only element that now ruled over Domino. Merciless light still streamed in through the matted windows and it was her own mind crafting illusions out of it this time.

She could see Oritel bark orders at Bartelby and the other scribes maintaining the library’s contents. They weren’t fighters so it’d fallen on her and the rest of the Company to secure the magical knowledge gathered here from all around the universe and make it impossible for the Coven to retrieve. Even if all of them died, they’d rigged every volume, every piece of paper, to self-destruct upon being opened without a designer counter spell–known only to the six of them–cast first.

She’d hardly call it a happy address on memory lane but that choking panic, the rushing adrenaline of such desperate measures, couldn’t hold a candle to the terror gnawing at her chest and the sweltering daylight outside. She could never have imagined she’d forget the cool breeze caressing her on hot summer nights like a breath of fresh air and the dead of winter crawling inside her flesh, inside the marrow of her bones. Her blistering skin and cracked lips, her parched throat and teary eyes pleaded for the cover of darkness, prayed for it. She never would have imagined one day she’d don armor to fight against the very light–fire–that had created the universe again.

They’d all done their part in the war, played their roles to perfection. They’d headed into one final battle and had set in motion a contingency plan. And the only death she’d had to prepare for had been her own – in a sacrifice of her life for her friends’.

This now... She was committing a murder. And for the first time ever she had no clue how to do it, no clue what would be left of her after.

The doors slammed closed behind her back with a deafening bang. She startled but paid them no mind, her attention already pinned on the blur of green, pink and fiery orange that Marion was.

She zoomed in the entryway from behind a corner, the aura of power surrounding her becoming a pull on the air, warping the heat haze around so that she was in sharp focus while everything else blended into an indistinguishable mass in the background.

Griffin gritted her teeth to resist the urge to screw her eyes shut.

In the same garments she’d worn during the last day she’d sat on Domino’s throne, Marion was a ghost, a phantom of the past come to haunt a present where it did not belong. Just looking at her was a grip on Griffin’s throat choking her the same as the sphere in the sky drained the life from all within its reach. Heat from it–torrents fueled by the flames in Domino’s core–poured over every planet in the dimension, beat down on the earth and pierced through flesh, glass and stone alike. Not a single corner of the universe would be spared until it revealed every secret it was hiding... or after. It was too much fire – a beacon that had outgrown hope, outgrown love, and was running on desperation instead, trying to fill a void that only burned wider.

A lethal blast thundered in Marion’s palm, rocked her whole body as it gained in strength to carve a place for her here no matter what. The floor rumbled under their feet, all the windows rattling.

The vibration drilled into Griffin’s head, overpowering her thoughts. All she could do was keep her gaze on Marion and hold her breath, hope that her friend wouldn’t come apart and crumble into pieces right in front of her eyes. If Marion’s teeth were chattering–her own were where she stood several paces away from the epicenter of the spell–she was grateful that noise was at least drowned out by the charge in Marion’s hand as it reached its peak.

She hurled it – as if in slow motion. Her arm obeyed with inhuman effort, tremors running through its full length. It took that much just to direct the blast, and a concerning crack from Marion’s shoulder broke through the clamor.

Griffin’s time to react was as short as how much life she’d have left if she got hit. Her magic fired through the room in thick, cloying waves to slow down the approaching death and give her time for the precise spellwork that would block a blast of that magnitude.

Marion’s eyes only now widened with recognition. Balling her fist, she crushed her own spell out of existence, then halted dead in her tracks, hand still raised in the air as if she was unsure where to put it.

Griffin needed more time to dismiss her shield, her own limbs made of lead. It was hard to breathe too. She ripped the scarf off her face in a panic, the goggles phasing into her pocket dimension.

Memories ran through her mind in a series of flashes – Valtor smothering his own incantation when she’d not been ready to meet it as they sparred, Valtor redirecting his spell last second after noticing her standing next to the other Company members, Valtor not bothering to shield himself from her attacks and focusing on deflecting Marion and Oritel’s instead. He hadn’t learned to fear her either, even after she’d betrayed him.

He was dead.

She’d seen the way Marion’s body trembled from the waste of precious magic. It’d taken far too much effort to summon it and the sigil on the door had been too fragile.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to come with?” Marion’s cold voice snapped her out of it. “We could have avoided this.”

The twitch of her hand drew Griffin’s gaze to the book she was holding. The pages were smoking, some of them starting to curl and shrivel, engulfed in the sparks leaking from Marion’s palm. With all the damage she’d already done, it was only her words indicating that Griffin had started this by letting the apocalypse outside in the library.

She looked her friend in the eyes. “I’m not here to help.”

She had tried. They all had. They had given sleep and sanity, and countless victims to their search and all of that she could overlook.

She had overlooked.

Until it’d cost them Saladin, his health spiraling faster than they could find a cure when everything was dying or already dead. His life had drained from him in the inferno they called home only to become more fuel for it, driving them all further into madness.

She was here to put an end to it.

“Oh?” Marion raised an eyebrow, no trace of the warmth and kindness she’d once had about her. She didn’t even bother with etiquette these days. The three people she ever talked to had never required it anyway. “If there’s some crisis to handle with my subjects, I’ve already authorized Faragonda and Hagen-”

“What subjects, Marion?” Griffin had to swallow, ready herself for the accusation to bounce right off Marion and strike her instead. That was if Marion didn’t fling it back herself. “Everyone emigrated to Magix and the rest of the dimension–alongside the Solarians–when you tried to stick them in bunkers underground. You have no subjects, no people.”

Marion crumpled the charred pages of the book in her fist, flames swallowing her hand. “I thought you understood.”

Tears glistened in her eyes with the magic framing her as if her hair had turned to liquid fire. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead.

Griffin’s own power pooled in her hands. She had to act fast. The exertion was taking its toll on Marion. There was only one thing left to do and it fell on her.

It made sense that she’d be the one to do it. She’d already sacrificed Valtor for her own peace of mind. Oritel. Why should it be different with Marion?

“This is all your fault,” Marion choked back a sob, eyes screwed shut.

Griffin’s fingers went limp. Her magic fell through and disappeared into the void in her stomach, eaten through by guilt.

“I know. And I’m here to fix it.”

Marion’s eyes snapped open – wide like full moons with hope they both knew was unwarranted.

It hit Griffin square in the chest but she forced herself to bridge the distance between them. The anticipation on Marion’s face was like teeth in her heart. It dug deeper with every step to tear it all to shreds when she opened her mouth to do the same to Marion’s own and whatever delusions she was grasping at.

Marion raised her chin to maintain eye contact once Griffin was too close and towering over her.

“I know I did this to you and I’m sorry. But I can’t let you continue on this path.”

Marion’s lower lip trembled. An openness she never would have allowed before. Maybe not even in front of her husband.

Then her face twisted in a snarl. “What do you know? You are no mother.”

She turned around, ready to abandon Griffin in here and return to her search for a spell they’d neglected, a clue that she’d missed to help her find her daughters.

“No,” Griffin startled at the urgency of her own voice, “but you’re the one that asked me to take care of your girls.”

Marion’s soles screeched against the floor, her whole body shaking violently as if it were trying to spit out her brain or her heart; maybe both at the same time.

She slowly turned to face Griffin again, her expression blood-curdling. It could choke the words, the life, out of Griffin all by itself if she were unaware of what Marion looked like with sorrow pouring from her eyes and throat.

“Look around. Everything your power has touched is dying. Everything is burning.” Griffin blinked back the tears flooding her eyes when Marion startled and jolted back as if she’d been slapped. “What happens if you reach them now?”

She reached out and took Marion’s hand. As gently as possible she opened her fist and let the cinders from the book fall freely along with the drops of blood Marion had drawn with her death grip.

“If we were to find them right now, safe and sound, what home are you going to bring them to?”

She didn’t bother with a healing spell. She just opened her arms to catch Marion’s collapsing body. The heat radiating off her was feverish – worse even than the hell outside. All of that fire had to come from somewhere.

Griffin only hugged her tighter, didn’t allow a single shred of space to come between them as she lowered them to the floor to keep Marion’s body from breaking under its own weight.

She sobbed in earnest now, face buried in the crook of Griffin’s neck. She was wracked with shivers and all the sounds that couldn’t spill out fast enough. Her breathing was erratic as she fought to draw in the air to speak.

“What hav-ve... I done?” Marion’s voice was bottomless, all the terror of watching Solaria and Domino die flooding into her heart now that she didn’t hold the image of her girls as a shield before it. “They deserve better than m-me. It should have been me, not... not him.”

Griffin’s heart squeezed agonizingly in her chest – an ache she’d only felt once. She’d held Marion back then, too, after she’d watched Valtor die by her hand. She had held her, arms like a vise around her, to stop her from diving after Oritel to wherever the Ancestral Witches had taken him. She had held her, had refused to lose her... and it hadn’t been enough.

Griffin brushed the hair away from Marion’s face with trembling fingers and lifted her chin to connect their lips. The cracks in her own scraped against Marion’s tender flesh as if they’d cut it bloody but it was Marion who dived deeper into the kiss.

Her tongue searched Griffin’s mouth as if the answers they both needed could be there. Her fingers were digging bruises in Griffin’s shoulders that had tears flowing down her face – relief that Marion was so hellbent on holding on to her, too, that she wasn’t going anywhere, that Griffin hadn’t left her dead inside with her words and actions that she could never apologize for.

Marion only broke away when she noticed the heaving of Griffin’s chest.

She nuzzled her head against Griffin’s neck, her tears falling on Griffin’s skin to mingle with her own. “I didn’t mean to be this selfish.”

Griffin cupped her cheek and tilted her head so she could look at her. “If you want to talk selfish, I’m right here.”

She leaned in and kissed Marion again, heart only relaxing in her rib cage once they were engulfed in darkness as the Dragon Fire in the sky died out, allowing for night to finally swallow all the ugliness they’d made of Domino together.

Marion’s fists closed into her hair like Griffin was her lifeline. She was still drowning and with so much grief in her lungs she was in no state to distinguish between clinging to driftwood and helplessly sinking into another body. And if Griffin was a selfless person, she’d do it for her. But all that mattered to her was that she didn’t even have to reach out to make sure Marion was still with her; Marion was burrowing herself under her skin as if she’d never let go.

[austinswhitewolf]

One of the Last Morrigan Pt. 9

Weekend is almost here everyone!! <3

You learned the young man’s name was Perk. He moved over to the cage-like door on the shallow cave and made quick work of getting rid of it with Wil’s help. When the creature steps out, you see she is a Roc. You take a few steps towards the creature while looking her over. She was beautiful and had a beautiful spirit. Wil spoke with Perk about having to find Amberle and Eretria and needing the four of you to get back together. The young man offers to take you and Wil on Genewen to look. With a grateful thanks, Wil helps you up behind Perk, then climbs on behind you. It is a little while before you spot a hole broken into the ground. With a quick low flyby it is found that this is where the two were. Wil grabs rope from Perk and quickly makes foot holds in it before swinging down off the back of Genewen down and into the opening. All you can really see is movement, the darkness down there was hard to see from out in the brightness of the day. When there was a tug on the rope, Genewen started to fly up, lifting the rope and the three out of the hole. It’s not until they are out of the hole and some other elf hunters are running out of the woods shooting their bows at you all, that you realize Eretria was not there. Once to a safe area, you land and Wil helps you off so that Perk can go take some flying sweeps trying to find if Eretria was taken with the elf hunters that you all escaped from. You stood next to Wil at the base of a grouping of trees, while Amberle kept watch for Perk and Genewen. Shifting on your feet, you lean into Wil’s side as the warmth of the sun is shining on you through the branches. Amberle starts to get more nervous and antsy, starting to pace. “It’s taking too long.” She says while moving over to you and Wil. 

“He’ll be back. You just got to be patient.” Wil said as he watched the Princess move around. “What do you have there?” You asked, seeing her hand gripped around something. She opened her fingers, showing three different shaped items that looked almost like stone and had numbers on them. 

“It’s just something I found inside.” She said handing them to you. “What is it?” Wil asked, reaching out and taking one from your hand to look at it. “It is some sort of game or something, I am not quite sure. They just caught my eye.” “Hey!” You heard Perk before you saw him as he was jogging over. You slipped the three blue shapes into your pocket.

“Any sign?” Amberle asked with worry on her face. “They packed her up and headed out quickly. I think they’re using the trees for cover. I’ve done half a dozen passes, and still nothing.” Perk spoke, looking between the three of you. “We need to go on foot.” Amberle said while Perk pulled a whistle out of his pocket. 

“Thank you Perk.” Wil spoke gently. “No, thank you. If you ever need me, use this whistle.” Perk said while holding a whistle out to Wil, who took it gently with a nod. With that the young man ran back to his Roc and they took off. “She’s out there alone.” “We’ll find her. I promise.” Wil responded to Amberle while sliding the whistle away.  She started off towards the area that Eretria and herself had fallen to start from there on foot. You followed after though for you it was not as fast as them. The fabric of the pants was rubbing against your hip and it was starting to hurt more and more. When you all got to the hole, you started to shed your boots, pants and shirt, dropping them into a pile at your feet. “I can’t continue on two feet. I need to shift if I am going to keep up with you two. I will be of better use in my other form as well.” You said as you took a step back from the clothing. Wil had turned from you the moment he saw what you were doing, the tips of his ears turning red. Amberle nodded and grabbed your clothing quickly and tied them into almost a pack themself and hooked it to her belt. You shifted and let out a breath as you took a moment to let your skin stretch and settle. You moved over to Wil’s side once the irritation died down mostly. With a nod Amberle took off into the woods, trying to find any type of tracks. There were some that she quickly found and then bolted off even faster, not even slowing down to weave through the underbrush. The tracks trailed off here and there until the seemed to disappear all together. You stayed right next to Wil the entire time, your gait so much more smooth and easy on your hip. “Amberle, wait up! Hey, wait!” Wil called out finally a little over an hour later as she had not once slowed down. 

“The last track we picked up was over a mile ago. Okay, we need to gain some ground before her trail goes cold.” 

“We need to rest.” He said, trying to keep his breathing even. He glanced at you, seeing you were even looking slightly out of breath and had to be tired. 

“We need to find Eretria.” Amberle said before turning and starting to jog off again. Wil let out a breath before moving after her and catching her elbow. 

“Amberle, stop.” 

“She thinks we ran off without her and that she's alone again. And I’m not gonna let that happen!” She pulled out of his grasp and started to move again. You shifted your ears away from her loud tone of voice. “Why are you yelling?” Wil asked.

“I don’t know!” 

“You feel guilty. I get it. So do I. But we can’t get distracted. We have a job to do here.” You shook your head, mane flipping from one side to the other at his words. Wrong thing to say to an upset woman. The look on her face showed just what you were thinking.

“How can you even say that!?” 

“You’re the one always saying we can’t let our feelings get in the way of our mission. You need to rest Amberle, so does she.” He said motioning to you, She looked over at you before looking back to Wil. “I’ll rest after I find Eretria.” With that she turned and took a few steps before you let out a sound at the same time Wil yelled at her to stop. She froze in her tracks. Wil had reached out to catch her but she had stopped without him needing to. He looked down at her feet, her eyes moving there as well. He glanced along the vines and then followed them up to a hanging cage that was ready to drop when tripped over. 

“Probably trolls. Eritrea told me to expect traps out here.” He murmured while you took a few steps up and knocked a larger chunk of branch forwards and onto the vines, setting the trap off. The cage came crashing down and the edges buried into the ground at the weight of it. 

Wil sighed and turned back to Amberle, you turning to them as well. “We will do anything to find her. But if we want to make it out of these woods alive, we need to be careful. We rest, then we eat. And then, then we keep looking.” Amberle finally gave in and nodded her head. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three of you had found a small spot and Wil made a small fire to eat and rest by, at the base of one of those sentinel statues. While Wil was making the fire, Amberle moved around, gathering items to cook over the fire. You stood silently by Wil the entire time, head lowered as you rested and closed your eyes. Once he had the fire going, he sat there and ran his hand over your nose and cheek, soothing not only you but himself with the motions. You only shifted your weight on your hooves when Amberle stepped back into camp and set some food to cook down near the fire. It wasn’t long before she had the food over the fire on skinny sticks. 

The crackling of the fire and sound of the birds in nearby trees lulled you into a doze. Your muscles jumped slightly at hearing Wil ask about the statues and Amberle responding. “Sorry.” He murmured to you, continuing to run his hand over your nose and cheek. You gave in and slowly laid down, back against Wil’s side as you listened to Amberle continue to explain the status. Wil leaned back against you, laying his arm over your back and taking a stick with the food from Amberle once it was cooked. You gave a soft nicker when Wil took the third stick and pulled everything off one at a time once it had cooled a little bit and held a piece in his hand for you to eat while he munched on his. Amberle sat on the other side of the fire. Her eyes were full of pain and sorrow at watching the two of you. She needed to get Eretria and make sure she was okay. Her feelings for the Rover had grown exponentially over the last few days. She could even venture to say it was close to love. 

Wil finished his food quickly and then once you were done as well, he laid his head on your back, arm once again over your back as well. Your strong heartbeat was soothing something deep inside of him. 

Just as you were starting to doze off again, you heard a clang and a man grunt. You shifted anxiously and once Wil had jumped up, you did the same. The three of you silently moved into the trees to see what had caused the noise.

[dustedmagazine]

Roc Marciano — Marciology (Pimpire Records)

Roc Marciano’s music has been a bumpy ride for the last few years. Not since 2018 when he put out KAOS (fully produced by DJ Muggs) has he created anything even remotely close to his stone cold classic albums. Marcielago, Mt. Marci, even the last year’s The Elephant Man’s Bones left a bitter aftertaste. Not that they have been straight out duds, but they had only a few bangers.

Marciology is no return to form. Or more specifically, Roc Marci is in his best form right now, but he focuses more on writing poetry than songs. He almost solely produced the new CD, with some help from The Alchemist and Animoss, and as he said in his interviews he feels most comfortable on his own production. His beats suit his lyrics but work best only as soundstage for poetry, not as music per se.

Maybe that is why the second half of Marciology especially drags on. It’s not songs but huge chunks of poetry piled up, heavy on wordplay, with rhyming done nicely, almost perfectly. But not many of the tracks work as songs at all. Mediocre verses from guests only makes the material more sluggish.

This “too much poetry” effect is not new for Marciano. His last few CDs had the same downside: you praise his lyrical gift but don’t put on repeat this poetry over beats. Only the first three tracks —“Marciology,” “Goyard God,” and “Gold Crossbow” — have a clear musical feel to them. On “Gold Crossbow,” especially, Marciano makes an effort to make not just a poem over music but a rocking song. He rhymes there: “ain't gon' even hold you \ There's no room on the scrotum, you gotta keep it mobile \ That's a quotable.” And there are plenty of quotable lines all over the album, yet they don’t work if they are buried underneath the not very good songs.

On the cover of this CD under the title Marciology it says “a cult....” There is no denying that Marci created a cult following, giving life to dozens of copycats, mostly bad copies of himself with far less talent. But the irony is Marciology as a sort of tribute to his lasting legacy is too mediocre to create a cult now.

Ray Garraty

[gobboguy]

Chapter 36: The Spine of Thrain

The eerie night in the canyon was thick and still, the silence only broken by the faint clattering of bones as the undead caravan moved onward. The jagged walls of the canyon loomed high above, casting long, ominous shadows across the broken landscape. A cold, unnatural fog clung to the ground, curling around the feet of the skeletons as they marched in rigid formation. The faint glow of their eyes was the only light in the gloom, their chattering teeth and grinding bones adding an unsettling rhythm to the otherwise quiet night.

Suddenly, the silence was shattered. From above, a cascade of rocks came crashing down with a thunderous roar, smashing into the caravan below. Skeletons scattered, bones flying in all directions as they screeched and howled in panic. The once-orderly march dissolved into chaos as the undead warriors struggled to regain their composure. From the cliffs above, harsh Orcish laughter and triumphant oinks echoed through the night, the voices of their ambushers hidden among the high trees and rocky ledges.

The Deathlord, at the head of the caravan, growled a hollow curse, his glowing red eyes sweeping across the destruction. He raised his rusted sword and tried to direct his remaining skeletons into some semblance of a defense, but they were trapped—surrounded on all sides by cliffs and towering trees, with no escape in sight. More rocks tumbled down from above, smashing the skeletal warriors apart, while arrows whistled through the air, piercing their brittle bones and reducing them to piles of dust.

"We must break out!" the Deathlord whispered through his teeth, his voice a low hiss that carried through the night. Without hesitation, he urged his undead soldiers forward, abandoning the wreckage of the caravan. The skeletal horde scrambled in a mad dash for the canyon exit, their bony limbs clattering and stumbling as they tried to escape the relentless bombardment. More rocks came crashing down, smashing into the fleeing skeletons and sending shards of bone skittering across the canyon floor. Arrows rained down from above, picking off stragglers one by one.

The canyon exit loomed ahead, a narrow passage between the towering cliffs that led to freedom. The Deathlord pushed his zombified steed harder, urging it onward as his skeletal soldiers broke into a frenzied run. Behind him, the last of the caravan's defenders crumbled under the relentless assault, their screams echoing through the canyon. Only a handful of skeletons remained, racing alongside their dark leader.

Finally, they burst out of the canyon into a serene clearing. Before them, a crystal-clear pool of water shimmered in the moonlight, fed by a small, trickling stream that wound its way through the rocky landscape. The contrast between the peaceful scene and the madness they had just escaped was jarring. The Deathlord, his armor dented and covered in dust, pulled his mount to a halt beside the pool. Behind him, the few surviving skeletons huddled together, their bones still shaking from the chaos of their escape.

The Deathlord stared into the tranquil waters, his crimson eyes narrowing. This battle was not over yet.

From the shadowed forest, a powerful warcry echoed: "Roc queukuk agh pranukuk!" For Queen and Princess! The Orcs charged from the brush, a fierce storm of muscle and fury crashing upon the undead. Gorlug was the first to strike, his massive battle axe cleaving through the air. With one brutal swing, he hacked through the knees of several skeletons, their bony frames collapsing to the ground as he howled in triumph. His swings were relentless, cutting down any undead fool enough to come near.

Dura, her twin axes flashing in the dim light, followed close behind. She charged through the crumbling remains of the undead, using her immense bulk to overpower the skeletons. Her axes smashed through ribs and skulls, the bones of her enemies splintering beneath her might. Each time she swung, a skeleton fell, shattered by her raw power.

Behind them, Atlug stood with his lute in hand, plucking a fierce rhythm that filled the Orcs with battle fervor. His fingers danced across the strings, his song fueling their bloodlust, and in moments of opportunity, he sent well-placed stones flying from his sling, knocking skulls clean off skeletal shoulders.

Oznacht, weaving in and out of the fray like a shadow, moved with the grace of a seasoned predator. He darted between skeletons, his spear flashing forward to impale one in the chest, shattering its spine in a single strike. As another approached, his bow came up, and with deadly precision, he loosed an arrow that pierced its skull. Oznacht ducked and spun, his movements fluid as he switched effortlessly between spear and bow. He leaped forward, driving his spear into the ribs of a larger skeleton, and used its own momentum to hurl it into a group of its allies, scattering them like brittle twigs. He was a whirlwind, his speed and skill unmatched as he felled the undead one by one.

The Orcs pressed forward, their strength and ferocity overwhelming the skeletons. Bones crumbled beneath their onslaught, and the clattering sounds of skeletal limbs falling apart filled the air. It was a complete rout. The undead were no match for the Orcs' relentless savagery, and soon, only one figure remained.

The Deathlord.

Standing alone in the clearing, the Deathlord's crimson eyes burned with cold fury. His zombified steed pawed the ground, its rotting muscles twitching as it awaited the command to charge. The Deathlord raised his rusted sword, ready to take on all the Orcs if need be. His tattered black cape fluttered in the wind, and the air around him seemed to chill as he prepared for one final stand. The Orcs circled him, their weapons ready, but the Deathlord did not flinch.

Dura oinked triumphantly, her tusks gleaming in the firelight as she stooped over the crumbling remains of the skeleton that had nearly bested her. She grinned savagely, pulling her loincloth aside, and with a mocking sneer, she relieved herself all over the shattered bones. "Hah! Thought you could take me? Weakling!" she jeered, her voice echoing through the battlefield. The other Orcs howled with laughter at the display, but Oznacht remained silent, his eyes locked on the Deathlord.

Oznacht stood tall, his nine-foot frame towering above the undead knight, yet the air between them was heavy with tension. The Deathlord was the remains of a human, long decayed, but despite his smaller stature, an unnatural, deadly aura radiated from him. His crimson eyes glowed with an ancient malevolence, and every movement he made was deliberate, poised, as if he had seen countless battles and knew no fear.

Oznacht stepped forward, his voice low and rumbling like distant thunder. "You face Oznacht of the warband of Muggalgrur, top hunter and warrior of my clan. I have felled beasts larger than you, broken men with my bare hands, and today, I will see your bones scattered across this field. Fight me, if you dare, wretch of the Underking!"

The Deathlord’s eyes narrowed as he slowly dismounted from his zombified steed, the foul creature huffing as it stood motionless, awaiting its master’s command. The Deathlord’s voice was a rasping whisper, like bones scraping together. "I am Thrain, once a knight of the Antelinian Theocracy, a conqueror of kingdoms and scourge of men. I walked among the living, wielding steel and commanding armies that shook the earth. Now, I serve a greater power. The Underking has granted me dominion over death itself."

He reached down with a skeletal hand, pulling the spine from one of his fallen soldiers. With a swift, dark incantation, the spine twisted and formed into a cruel, jagged sword. Thrain's spine sword was a grotesque weapon, forged not from steel but from the twisted remains of a fallen skeleton's spine. Each vertebrae was jagged and sharp, fused together through dark magic, forming a cruel, uneven blade that seemed to pulse with a sickly green glow. The sword's hilt was fashioned from twisted bone, and it radiated an unnatural chill, as though the very essence of death had been channeled into it. The blade was uneven, serrated with sharp ridges, and when swung, it emitted a low, eerie hum that resonated with the necromantic energy coursing through it. The spine sword was no mere weapon—it was a conduit for Thrain's power over the dead, and as he wielded it, the surrounding bones of fallen enemies seemed to twitch in response, awaiting his command. The blade seemed to hum with dark energy as Thrain raised it. "I am his necromancer and knight, master of the dead. And now, I shall raise what you have broken, and they will serve me once more."

Thrain thrust the spine-sword into the ground, and a sickly green glow spread like veins across the battlefield. The bones of the fallen skeletons began to twitch and rattle, pulling themselves together once more. Slowly, one by one, the army of the dead rose to its feet, their empty eye sockets staring forward, weapons clattering in bony hands.

The skeleton Dura had so triumphantly defiled shook itself back to unlife, its empty eye sockets glowing with a cold, malevolent light. Bits of urine dripped from its grinning skull as it turned its head, glaring directly at Dura. The sound of its bones clattering together was unsettling, but even more so was the way it raised itself up, seemingly angrier for the humiliation it had just endured. With a jerky movement, the skeleton wiped its face with a bony hand, turning its grim, silent rage toward her. Dura yelped, her bravado faltering for a moment as she backed up. "Uh-oh," she stammered, glancing around nervously. "I think I might’ve pissed him off!"

The Orcs around Oznacht quailed in fear, their bravado fading as the undead stood again, twice as fearsome in their silent resurrection. All except Oznacht. He stepped forward, his fists clenched tightly around his spear and bow, and his eyes blazing with determination.

"You think your dark magic frightens me, Thrain?" Oznacht growled, his tusks flashing in the moonlight. "I will break your bones, burn your undead, and shatter your foul magic! MOG's light will see you undone, and I will see all of Orckind freed from the Underking’s blight. I swear it on my blood!"

Thrain chuckled darkly, his sword glowing ominously in the night air. "Then come, Orc. Let’s see if your blood can stand against death itself."

The night air was thick with tension as Oznacht faced off against Thrain, the towering Deathlord. Thrain’s necromantic blade, forged from the twisted spine of a fallen warrior, glowed with an eerie light, slicing through the air with a hiss. Oznacht’s spear, sharp and gleaming even in the dimness, flashed like lightning as he parried and struck, his movements fluid and practiced. Each time Thrain’s blade missed, Oznacht felt a strange pull, as though the very air around him was being drained of life. Dark tendrils of necromantic energy radiated from Thrain’s sword, seeking to sap the strength from Oznacht’s limbs.

Thrain swung again, his movements methodical and deadly, each strike aimed with precision. Oznacht dodged and countered, but with every near miss, his energy waned. The Deathlord’s aura of decay seemed to weaken him even when their weapons didn’t meet. Thrain’s hollow eyes gleamed with malice as he pressed the attack, Oznacht’s defenses growing slower and weaker.

Just when it seemed that all hope was lost, Oznacht saw an opening. With a powerful lunge, he drove his spear into the ground, using it as a pole vault. In one swift motion, he launched himself over Thrain, his nine-foot frame twisting in midair. The Deathlord turned too late, his undead reflexes no match for the agility of the Orc. With a resounding crack, Oznacht delivered a devastating kick to Thrain’s spine, shattering it in an explosion of bone and dust.

The Deathlord crumbled to the ground, his sword falling from his bony grip as his body disintegrated into a pile of lifeless remains. With Thrain’s fall, the magic animating the skeletal army collapsed, and the undead warriors crumbled into heaps of bones.

The Orcs erupted in victory, their war cries echoing through the canyon. They slapped their bellies in celebration, their oinks of joy filling the air. Oznacht stood over the remains of Thrain, victorious. The day was theirs.

Oznacht stooped down and picked up the sword that had once belonged to Thrain, his fingers closing around the bone-like hilt. A jolt of power surged through him the moment he touched it, a dark, intoxicating energy that seemed to hum with life. It felt good. His grip tightened, and he lifted the blade, letting the metal glint in the dim light. The weight of the sword was perfect, and as he moved it through the air, a green wave of energy trailed behind it, shimmering ominously.

Gorlug’s voice dropped low, a warning in his tone. “That blade… it carries dark magic, Oznacht. Be careful.”

But Gorlug’s words were drowned out by the triumphant cheers of Dura and Atlug. “A fine trophy for a mighty warrior!” Dura oinked, clapping her belly in approval. Atlug strummed a few celebratory notes on his lute, his eyes gleaming with admiration.

Oznacht smiled, the rush of victory and the power of the blade filling him with confidence. He secured the sword to his belt loop, its presence a heavy, comforting weight at his side. “This is just the beginning,” he declared, his voice strong and certain. “The beginning of the end for the Underking and his minions.”

The others cheered in agreement, but deep inside, a small, unsettling hunger began to stir within Oznacht as the dark energy of the sword continued to pulse through him.

[stylin-knight]

Another dull day with paperwork means another long night for Loury. She never knew just how much paperwork came with dying and even more when the person was even slightly too bad for Heaven. It was frustrating beyond belief and she hasn't even gotten halfway through the pile of folders on her desk. Well, her father's old desk repurposed into a functional work space. He should have done these, they were from hundreds of years ago and have been neglected since. To top it off, the files he did manage to look at were organized wrong or improperly stored so they had to be redone from scratch.

Loury hung her head in defeat and groaned. She's not making it home tonight, maybe not even tomorrow will everything piled up. Her tail twitched, restlessness making her body ache.

"I just want to go home." She whined drawing out the last syllable for dramatic effect, though only she was there to witness such theatrics. She closed her eyes tight and scrunched her face to snap herself right back into a blank expression. She could do this, she hadn't needed to sleep in years and skipping a few meals couldn't hurt too bad. Staying and finishing the work was more important anyway. Sacrifices had to be made. Just as Loury was getting back to the task at hand a small knock came at the door.

"Come in." Loury commanded loud enough to be heard but not shouting. She made herself look far more interested in her work than she was. Her eyes locked on a file of a woman who died during the French Revolution. Not terribly uncommon but it still caught her genuine curiosity about it. There's no name but just a photo of a pale woman with green eyes and white hair.

"I knew her."

Loury snapped out of her focus to the other occupant in the room. She guessed that looking busy had the negative side effect of losing your attention to what was happening around you. Which meant that Loury did not hear the door open, did not hear the clicking of footsteps coming near, and definitely did not notice the presence of a very familiar aura right in front of her.

"Hi Cupid." Loury responded lamely. Looking up from the mess of papers gave her a view of her most trusted advisor when it came to running and ruling Hell. She had a frown on her face but that was standard, there isn't much to be happy about when you work in Hell. Though Loury noted that her eyes gave more to her true emotions, there was a glint in them and she could sense that the older woman had something on her mind. "You knew her?" she asked, handing the file over. Perhaps she'll get some insight on what's got her more down than usual.

"I knew of her. She was a prominent figure when I was alive. I do not recall her name however but that shouldn't be an issue to find." Cupid recalled numbly. It seems like she's in no mood to speak of her past.

"I'm sorry."

Cupid looked confused, "Whatever for?" she responded carefully.

"The reminders, I'll try and take care of these ones when they come up." the clarification seemed to only confuse her more.

Cupid tilted her head to the side and furrowed her brows, her pale skin never wrinkling even when streched and folded together. She opened her mouth but the words died on her tounge. She sucked in a deep breath and placed the file back on the desk.

Loury looked on with anxious energy. This is her office. Loury is the one who should be in charge here. But Cupid is her friend first, roles can be set aside to comfort those who need it. But she's not used to how Cupid acts, hasn't had enough interactions with her to gauge how to approach this. So she just looks on and waits for a move to be made.

"Go home." was what broke the unwritten tension in the room.

"What?"

"Go home Loury. It's late, and Rochelle has called twice already." Cupid looked pained, like it was hurting her to dismiss someone like this.

Loury shrugged, eyes downcast once again. She wants to leave but then the work will just be there tomorrow like a looming threat. She shook her head, "I'm fine Cupid. I'll call Rochelle and tell her I'll be a bit late." *or not home at all*, she thought with a stab of guilt.

"You're not a convincing liar like he used to be."

Those words stung, they shouldn't but they did.

Like he used to be.

Of course he was a great liar. He fooled everyone into thinking he was capable of being a good person.

"I didn't mean to upset you. You just remind me of him in times like this." Cupid averted her gaze to a framed painting of the man in question. Loury thought that she should burn that evil painting when she had the time.

"You mean working? I'm not so sure." she spat. Not even entertaining the thought of him more than she has to.

"No." a pause, "I meant" another pause, this one lasted far longer than the first. Cupid sighed, "You look so much like him. I am very aware that you two are vastly different, but I can not tell you how many times I've had to come in here and tell him to leave." she was frustrated and her tone left no room to argue that. "Please Loury, go home. Your family is more important than all this."

"But I-"

"I can take care of it." she put up her hand to stop the interjection. "Now, get up and let me finish these and you can come in tomorrow morning and start on the rest." it's not a question, it's a command and one that Loury can't bring herself to argue with.

With one last look at the ocean of papers and folders Loury stood and walked around the large desk. Cupid stood with caution still but with a slight air of power that is rarely seen on her. Loury smiled and surged to hug the older woman, careful not to hit her with her horns.

"Thanks mom." was all that was said as Loury squeezed Cupid tight.

"You're welcome dear." was softly whispered in her ear as Cupid patted her back lightly.

[bwoahtastic]

in honor of the roc ice bath, what about the entire oh deer orphanage going on holiday to the mountains somewhere, renting out an entire lodge to themselves, and finding that the place has an ice bath out back. seb, jenson, and loads of the pups being really excited to try it out. val and kevin would absolute love it, and kimi would be in his natural element. lewis would refuse to go in, and spend the entire holiday in at least three layers of clothing, dan would do it, but be freezing and complain about it constantly. mika would not want to do it, but (just like mika in real life) once nico and nicky expressed an interest in it, he would do it, swear very vigorously in finnish, and run out immediately, but stop to hold the door open for nico and the pups

SJFSJG PLSSS

the whole fam gojng to a big lodge in the mountains to the pups can see snow and do all kind of fun snow stuff and everyone can stay together! Val being SO excited about the ice bath and everyone thinks he is gonna be cold but he is absolutely thriving! And he has papa KImi and big bro Kevin to watch him ofc!

Seb doesnt like the ice bth but likes watching sksk and keeps trying to bribe Lewis and Dan to try it for his amusement while Jenson is babbling about the health benefits it can have (without actually doing it himself saying he is busy watching Charles (Charles was the clsoest pup and now stuck in Jenson's arms lsks). Dan doing it but then dramatically huddling under 12 blankets after and making Kimi spoon him cos he is freezing ksks

Nico doing it when Nicky and Pascal want to try and Mika suddenly agrees to do it too (Nico in bikini is enough reason lol) but curses a ton (Val instantly repeating the bad words lol) but at least helps Nico (who is dying with laughter) bring Nicky and Pascal inside!

It ends with a huge cuddle pile in the living room while TOto and Norbert make everyone hot chocolate!

[mariacallous]

In recent months, the Russian authorities have begun experimenting with new restrictions on reproductive healthcare in some regions, including limits on abortion services in private clinics and bans on “coercing” women into having abortions that stretch the definition of the word “coercion” beyond any reasonable interpretation. Meduza has learned from sources close to the Kremlin that while internal polling indicates that most Russians oppose the idea of a total abortion ban, lawmakers are likely to continue piling on new restrictions thanks to the Russian Orthodox Church and other conservative figures who currently have the president’s ear. Meduza special correspondent Andrey Pertsev explains.

In the fall of 2023, the Russian authorities began a major campaign to restrict abortion rights in the country. In November, private clinics in five of Russia’s regions (Tatarstan, Mordovia, and the Lipetsk, Chelyabinsk, and Kursk regions) restricted abortion services at the same time, as did private facilities in Russian-annexed Crimea.

Additionally, local authorities in four regions (the Kaliningrad, Kursk, and Tver regions and Mordovia) made it a misdemeanor offense to “coerce” women into getting an abortion. An explanatory note attached to the bills before their passage said, among other things, that “the cult of consumerism, aggressive demands for self-actualization, and the mockery of family values in conjunction with the cult of sex imposes on women the view that abortion is the necessary choice for a modern person.”

The phenomenon hasn’t been limited to Russia’s regions; federal officials have long been discussing the need for national abortion restrictions. In late November, Russian State Duma Deputy Chair Anna Kuznetsova (who previously served as the country’s children’s rights commissioner, and who has close ties to the Russian Orthodox Church) announced that the parliament is preparing a bill to ban abortions in private clinics throughout the country. Federation Council Speaker Valentina Matviyenko recently said the authorities want to ensure that abortions are only performed in Russia when medically necessary or in cases of “some kind of violence against women.” At the same time, she maintained that the government has no intention of passing a wholesale ban on abortion, saying “the state definitely won’t go down [this] path.”

According to a source close to the Kremlin and another close to the State Duma’s leadership who spoke to Meduza, the Russian authorities are indeed not currently planning on banning abortion fully. A source close to the Putin administration added that the country’s leaders are planning “lighter” regulations (such as a nationwide ban on abortions in private clinics): “Getting an abortion will be possible but more difficult.” The authorities are counting on these measures supporting their “traditional values” messaging and increasing birth rates. (Meduza has previously reported on how abortion restrictions actually tend to have the opposite effect.)

All of Meduza’s sources close to the Russian authorities agreed that the campaign to restrict abortion rights is happening at the initiative of the Russian Orthodox Church (ROC) and the circle of “conservatives” who currently enjoy “influence over the president.” (The sources named Konstantin Malofeev, the ultraconservative oligarch behind the Russian Orthodox TV station Tsargrad, as one example.)

“He [Putin] is a conservative right now; that’s the reality. He’s not currently ready to go as extreme as some, but he does seem likely to follow [the ROC] on some measures. Just on a smaller scale: not banning abortions, but making it significantly more difficult to get them,” said a source close to the Kremlin.

In 2022, ROC head Patriarch Kirill called on the Russian authorities to ban abortions in private clinics, and he recently repeated the request in a statement to the State Duma. He has also called for a federal ban on “coercing” women into getting abortions and has referred to the procedure itself as a “mockery of the idea of human rights” and a “national disaster.”

In late November 2023, Vladimir Putin gave a speech to the World Russian People’s Council, an influential organization led by the ROC, that hinted at the growing sway conservative ideas have over him. In particular, the president said that having numerous children should “become the norm for all of Russia’s people.” He didn’t directly mention abortion in the speech, but he said in an earlier speech to the Russian Civic Chamber that abortion is an “urgent problem.” According to Meduza’s sources, it was the Putin administration who sent the “recommendations” to regional governors that they restrict abortions in private clinics.

A source close to the State Duma added that the first restrictions on abortions in private clinics are being imposed in regions whose governors are alumni of the Kremlin’s “school for governors” — a Russian Presidential Academy of National Economy and Public Administration (RANEPA) program for training a personnel reserve — such as Lipetsk Governor Igor Artamonov and Chelyabinsk Governor Alexey Teksler. “These people are quick to sense which way the wind is blowing. When [the Putin administration] says jump, they ask ‘how high?’” the source said.

According to a source close to the Kremlin, the Putin administration believes the majority of Russians oppose the idea of a total abortion ban; results from closed polls commissioned by the authorities have shown as much. Public survey data supports this belief: according to the Public Opinion Foundation, 65 percent of Russians oppose the idea of a full abortion ban, while about 25 percent believe abortions should be permitted in all cases.

One of Meduza’s sources close to the Russian authorities said that even the idea of banning abortions only in private clinics “is met with rejection” by the Kremlin’s skeptics and supporters alike: “For them, this is all a disaster, something from the Middle Ages. Even high-profile officials are shocked. They don’t like this, and they’ve made it clear.”

A political strategist who spoke to Meduza said that in his view, the authorities are unlikely to impose harsh nationwide restrictions before the upcoming presidential elections, which are scheduled for March 2024. “Why send that signal to [women who support Putin]?” he explained. At the same time, he didn’t rule out further regional restrictions, reasoning that local authorities may want to get in line with the “overall conservative trend.”

According to sources close to the Russian authorities, one of the most likely scenarios appears to be a “hybrid option,” in which getting abortions in private clinics becomes extremely difficult while state clinics simultaneously start “insistently discouraging people from having abortions.” Russian gynecologists have already begun holding “pre-abortion consultations” with women at the request of the Health Ministry, which hopes the measure will “give women a sense of the importance of carrying a pregnancy to term.” Policies requiring doctors to discourage women from getting abortions are currently being tested in several pilot regions. The authorities’ instructions don’t recommend doctors tell women they’re making the wrong decision by getting an abortion but instead tell them to emphasize the “positive sides of pregnancy and raising a child”: “It’s great to be a mother!”

Meduza’s sources did not rule out the possibility that the Russian authorities will gradually intensify their efforts to dissuade women from seeking abortions; for example, they could instruct doctors to tell women that “abortion is murder.” The sources also speculated that the federal authorities could expand a policy adopted in the Belgorod region in the early 2010s that requires women seeking abortions to visit a psychologist and a priest and have them sign a form “approving” the procedure. Federal Health Ministry rules do require doctors to send women seeking abortions to a psychologist for a consultation, but it’s currently easy for women to disregard the requirement.

Sources close to the Kremlin said the authorities find the Belgorod experiment “interesting” but said the federal government is unlikely to ever involve priests in its pre-abortion requirements.

[hellwatermelon]

Best of 2022, bit late, no particular order, happy new year to all 10 people who still follow and the million bots...

Wormrot - Hiss Ka - Languish Arts Ka - Woeful Studies Derniere Volonte - Cristal chat pile - God's Country Vince Staples - Ramona Park Broke My Heart Zeal & Ardor - Zeal & Ardor Jid - The Forever Story Chase & Status - What Came Before Show Me The Body - Trouble The Water Samana - All One Breath Hate Forest - Innermost Ashenspire - Hostile Architecture Cave In - Heavy Pendulum Second To Sun - Nocturnal Philosophy

Eternality - Dea​þ​wyrd µ-Ziq - Magic Pony Ride Croatian Amor - Remember Rainbow Bridge SHXCXCHCXSH - Kongestion Malibu - Palaces of Pity Rhyw - Honey Badger EP Method Man - Meth Lab Season 3 : The Rehab Kno & Sadistik - Bring Me Back When the World Is Cured The Difference Machine - Unmasking the Spirit Fakers Billy Woods - Church Roc Marciano & The Alchemist - The Elephant Man's Bones Akai Solo - Spirit Roaming Dälek - Precipice Benny the Butcher - Tana Talk 4 Ockham's Blazer - Ockham's Blazer

Quelle Chris - DEATHFAME Nuclear Daisies - Nuclear Daisies Munly & the Lupercalians - Kinnery of Lupercalia; Undelivered Legion Emily Wells - Regards to the End Kevin Morby - This Is A Photograph Carla dal Forno - Come Around Tanya Tagaq - Tongues Carpenter Brut - Leather Terror King Hannah - I'm Not Sorry, I Was Just Being Me 700 Bliss - Nothing To Declare Zola Jesus - Arkhon Moor Mother - Jazz Codes Al-Qasar - Who Are We? Ritual death - Ritual Death Ethel Cain - Preacher’s Daughter

Aeviterne - The Ailing Facade Doldrum - The Knocking, Or The Story Of The Sound That Preceded Their Disappearance Terzij De Horde - In One Of These, I Am Your Enemy Celebratum - Kollektiv Sinnssykdom Misþyrming - Með hamri Arizmenda - Spiders Lust In The Dungeon's Dust Earl Sweatshirt - Sick! Various Artists - Feast 22 Roc Marciano & The Alchemist - The Elephant Man's Bones (Pimpire Edition) Carmen Villain - Only Love From Now On Rune Bagge - Grab a Star Billy Woods - Aethiopes Lorn - YESTERDAY'S PAIN / CUT THE ANCHOR llwll - passing Odesza - The Last Goodbye

Best of 2018

Best of 2020

Best of 2021

[soldier-requests]

Hi! Could you do shota aizawa (mha) playlist? And not include metal (and others similar) music if u can? Thank you! ❤️❤️

hello! and yeah sure. i tried to avoid metal and rock, but i think there's still a couple of rock songs in there ^^;. hopefully you like some of these?? i wasn't really sure what kinda music you wanted, but if this isn't it feel free to send another request in- maybe with an example song or two :].

anyways here you go ^_^.

songs go like "song" + "artist"

"Shut Eye" + "Stealing Sheep"

"Child Psychology" + "Black Box Recorder"

"Still Don't Know My Name" + "Labrinth"

"Plastic Beach" + "Gorillaz" and "Mick Jones" and "Paul Simonon"

"Dirty Harry" + "Gorillaz" and "Bootie Brown"

"O Green World" + "Gorillaz"

"Lovers Rock" + "TV Girl"

"I See Red" + "Everybody Loves an Outlaw"

"Dangerous" + "Big Data" and "Joywave"

"Sunflower" + "Michele Leigh"

"I'll Never Smile Again" + "Tommy Dorsey" and "Frank Sinatra" and "The Pied Pipers"

"4:00A.M." + "Taeko Onuki"

"Dark Red" + "Steve Lacy"

"Step On Me" + "The Cardigans"

"Who Is She ?" + "I Monster"

"No Surprises" + "Radiohead"

"Little Pistol" + "Mother Mother"

"All Gone" + "Mother Mother"

"Infinitesimal" + "Mother Mother"

"Burning Pile" + "Mother Mother"

"Wrecking Ball" + "Mother Mother"

"Oh Ana" + "Mother Mother"

"Ghosting" + "Mother Mother"

"This Side of Paraside" + "Coyote Theory"

"Paint Me Silver" + "Pond"

"Unpaid Intern" + "Bo Burnham"

"Genesis" + "Grimes"

"Blah Blah Blah" + "The Oozes"

"Lifetime Achievement Award" + "Lemon Demon"

"Step" + "Vampire Weekend"

"Icicles" + "The Scary Jokes"

"People I Don't Like" + "UPSAHL"

"Je te laisserai des mots" + "Patrick Watson"

"Dead Girls" + "Penelope Scott"

"My Alcoholic Friends" + "The Dresden Dolls"

"Are You Satisfied?" + "MARINA"

"Savages" + "MARINA"

"Two Birds" + "Regina Spektor"

"Space Song" + "Beach House"

"I Love You So" + "The Walters"

"Middle Finger" + "Bohnes"

"Gasoline" + "Halsey"

"Revolution" + "The Score"

"Born For This" + "The Score"

"Stronger" + "The Score"

"I Feel Like I'm Drowning" + "Two Feet"

"Human" + "Rag'n'Bone Man"

"Used to the Darkness" + "Des Rocs"

"Hustle" + "Rocket Surgeons"

"People Like Us" + "Kelly Clarkson"

"What Makes A Good Man?" + "The Heavy"

"Put It on the Line" (Theme from Borderlands) + "The Heavy"

"Sharks" + "Imagine Dragons"

"Bones" + "Imagine Dragons"

"ゆめ���つつ" (Yumeutsutsu / Yumeuta) + "Lamp"

[ash-the-porcupine]

Moments of Rosita being the Mom friend with Buster and Gunter, please?

Just a heads up, I went majorly crackheaded whilst writing this and so… I sound… slightly loopy? XD

-Buster and Gunter get into quite the variety of trouble. They're always going places they don't need to be, or doing things involving a lack of critical thinking. This is where Rosita comes in. Every. Single. Time. 

-She's used to their antics by now

-Buster and Gunter had started a murderous conspiracy against bees. And anything else with a stinger. More than once, Rosita has had to confiscate nerf guns loaded eith little blocks of salt the two hunt insects down with. 

-Her kids held a funeral for a bee.

-While shopping at Roc's, Rosita gave Buster a lecture about not grabbing things people tell him not to touch after the Calloway fence incident. His paws are toast. Gunter casually continued to grab every type of cereal the store had to offer during this convo.

-Gunter will eat crayons if the kids ask him to, and Rosita worries about him sometimes. It sometimes feels like she has twenty-seven kids if she counts Gunter and Buster in their moments of extreme immaturity. 

-Buster once had a legitimate staring contest with a cockroach. Rosita stepped in, and despite him insisting he was hoping for inspiration to hit him, she made him stop. Gunter and Buster then had the most intense staring contest ever. It ended with Gunter's HOOF hitting him because Gunter was trying to get Buster to blink but accidentally ACTUALLY hit Buster. 

-After teaching her kids the important civility lesson that murder is not okay, she came to rehearsals to find Gunter and Buster chasing each other with plastic katana and playing out a dramatic - but eerily detailed - murder scene. I strongly believe she facepalmed painfully hard mentally.

-Gunter and Buster have been known to go out and drink once in a while. Rosita had to deal eith their drunken idiocy. Poor Rosita. lol (jk I have no remorse because it's fun to torture the characters I love. We're all a little evil as authors. You know it to be true.)

-Rosita takes  her extra kids/her immature younger siblings Buster and Gunter to Canyon Café every so often, and Buster and Gunter love to create the CRAZIEST ice cream cones for one another. And I mean these things are freaking GIGANTIC. 

-When Rosita asked Buster and Gunter to babysit for her so she could go on a dinner date with Norman one time, she came home to find Gunter teaching the kids to gamble and Buster right in the middle of eating the container of whipped cream that was meant to be for another round of Pie Face. 

-These guys are so chaotic!

-But Rosita loves them anyway. Because, their idiocy makes for great stories and future entertainment and embarrassment divine to the two troublemakers.

-A certain pig and koala duo love to team up and steal the little strawberry bonbons from Rosita's purse when she wasn't looking. She couldn't figure out where the treats were dissapearing to.

-That is, until she walked in on Buster dividing a pile of strawberry candies between him and Gunter. Busted Moon, right there. 

-More than once, Rosita has found herself playing Truth or Dare with Buster and Gunter, and been left being asked the most childish questions. Gunter is most fond of "what is your deepest darkest secret" and "most evil things you did as a kid". Buster seems to lean toward "top ten dumbest things you've ever done with your friends. Go!". 

-Twister is a riot. Buster cannot play this game to save his life because he's so small, so he always uses the spinner and asks the requests ridiculous things that come to mind when he lands on spinner's choice. Most recent of which behind "left foot yellow and sing I'm A Coconut."

-Rosita tried to teach Buster to drive while Gunter played the kazoo in the backseat. Long story short, Buster is never allowed to drive Rosita's car ever again. 

-Halloween. Gunter dressed up as a clown, and because of it, Buster his in his office until the next evening.**

-Playing "whose family is the most dysfunctional" was a bad idea. Gunter's uncles are all members of a gang, Gunter's mom is crazy, his dad is dead by death of motorcycle, and his siblings are slightly hopeless. We already know about Rosita's family. Buster has no family, and every question asked rubbed that in his face. Rosita spent the next two hours of her life trying to persuade him to come out of his office (and comfort drawer).

-They played truth circle, and apperantly, Gunter is like Kitty Softpaws in male pig form. Rosita gave him a five minue talk on all the reasons he shouldn't steal. Buter over to the side and be like (= =) while sippin' on a soda. 

-Buster dumped a bottle of coke on Gunter's head as payback for something. Buster is convinced Rosita broke a record of most consecutive curse words spoken in twenty-five seconds in a foreign language. Gunter and Buster be sharin' a lot of wide-eyed looks with each other. 

-Rosita constantly gets onto them about their language before they can even say anything XD

Buster: SON OF A BI-

Rosita: LANGUAGE, YOUNG MAN *swats his paw*

Buster: -SCUIT. I was saying "biscuit", Rosita, geez. 

**Buster's extreme fear of clowns is a headcannon of mine. Maybe he got kidnapped by clowns as a kid. I dunno. I actually had a dream about tat happening to him. In the dream, a rhino and a tiger dressed as clowns kidnapped Buster and two other kids. Then ate one of them. Buster proceeded to memorize their license plates, put nails in their tires, and run away when they got drunk and passed out two nights later. It was a weird dream.

Anyways, hope you likes this! Thank you for your request hbalto, and have good week!

[pinkeoni]

Hoooo your ja*cy unpopular opinion, same here. I'm about…. 70% sure they aren't meant to be endgame, yeah it's possible they will finally resolve their issues and lies in a healthy way in s5 but yeah still. I personally don't see them ending up together, and I personally think it's better for them both to be apart from each other at least for some time. They already started having problems in s3, with both invalidating each other's hardships - N*ncy dismissing and not understanding Jon*than's interests and his living situation and that he has to work harder and care for his family because he isn't well off like her, and Jon*than dismissing the terrible sexism N*ncy constantly encounters at work. They made up but weren't shown actually discussing it and understanding one another. And s4 piled more lies on top of that and they ended the season with their problems unresolved like melvin. Plus Jon*than comparing their relationship to that of his parents… Idk, imo it would be good for them to take a break from each other. N*ncy clearly wants to build a successful career on her own and that's what's important for her, Jon*than needs to finally think about himself and what he wants to do in his life and realize that he shouldn't sacrifice his dream career and dream college for his loved ones. Kaypeace also had and old pre-s4 analysis on why ja*ncy likely isn't engame and it's still valid imo.

I'm also doubtful about lu*ax going back to being a couple. L*cas cares so deeply about Max, they mean a lot to each other, but that doesn't have to mean they need to be back in a romantic relationship imo. So yeah, who knows what will happen with ja*cy and lu*ax in the end, but for me, I think the only romantic pairs that obviously will become endgame are jop*per, roc*kie and by*ler.

I totally agree! And it’s not to say that they don’t have love for each other, I think they do, but they just have so many issues piling up on top of each other that isn’t fully resolved yet! I don’t think they are as unhealthy as melvin (who straight up are not in love with each other) but the way that their relationship has been framed in the narrative… it’s not looking good.

I also think that their relationship conflicts with their futures. It was established in season 4 that Nancy is very eager about attending Emerson, but Jonathan clearly does not want to go. Not only does he not apply at all, but it was also established in season one that he has wanted to go to NYU “Since he was six! Years! Old!” And since they seem to be having trouble with long distance communication, at least for their near futures I see them going seperate ways. Could they get back together in the future? It’s possible. But for now this is just how I see things.

[theultrablog]

Pulp Storytime #33: Beignet, Done That!(Adapted from The Heart of Yhtill by Jason Vey.)

Beware the hand that drags you out of the water… When you don’t even know you’re drowning. New Orleans, August 1935. A low patter of rain drums against the windows of the House of the Rising Sun. Penelope “Penny” An’Te pulls in a pile of chips. She dragged her buddies Giula "Lala" Santinella and Florence Zee here to show off America’s amazing nightlife. And everything goes fine until Bebe Brossard takes the stage. Devika and Penelope literally hold Florence back from storming the stage to “join” her biggest musical rival. As Brossard exposes the crowd to the latest and hippest invention, the electric guitar, a bunch of calamities occur. And the session was so action-packed I can only hope to summarize, not retell. Interspersed with action was levity and some of the weirdest drama of the campaign so far. A disguised waiter shoots a blow dart, accidentally hitting JP Diamond, private eye. He’s ZOMBIFIED, and only the combined efforts of the characters can keep him down, literally. They toss tables and chairs, anything within arm's reach, until the bouncers can gag and remove the biting deadman. They manage to get the dart, and through their contacts, find out it’s similar to a design by Marie LeVeau, the voodoo queen of New Orleans. Here are just a sampling of the conflicts: *Piloting a fan boat into the bayou, and helping the voodoo queen hold off a siege by the grotesque Juillet Family. (Turns out the villains of "Wives of March" aren't as extinct as previously thought!) At this point, the players return in their muddy eveningwear, trudging through the hotel lobby and arguing about who gets the first access to the shower. When they wake up, they get good and bad news: the private detective’s companion last night is offering them a lot of money to investigate her missing husband in their stead. The bad news is that a hurricane is hitting the city. *Next is investigating a creepy southern mansion as the floodwaters rise. Penny, former Hawaiian lifeguard, drops down to a one piece and explores the murky basement with the flashlight. Not a master of investigation, stunt woman Lala just grabs bags and bags of everything. The owner of the house had gone mad looking for Irem of the pillars, the mystical city of Muslim folklore. The gang rushes to the airport. Before they land, they realize that Saudi Arabia isn’t the greatest place for unaccompanied women… —— Once they arrive, the players discover an ancient brotherhood trying to prevent anyone from finding Irem. (They discover this by almost getting killed via blow dart.) They spend the gambling winnings ASAP, fueling up for a journey into the desert…But there is one person who wants to meet the players. One of the world’s most famous female directors, and she has a starring role that would be perfect for Lala, who agrees immediately. As they head out on a two-week desert journey, Lala brags about her newfound fortune. Florence explains who Leni Riefenstahl is. The desert was filled with action. Impatient Penny refuses to wait for the camel-using Brotherhood. *The exhausted trio arrives at the semi-ruined city… and is immediately accosted by giant monsters. They just barely evade a roc with a wingspan the size of a school bus. They take cover in a temple, but accidentally awaken its guardian, a flesh worm multiple stories tall. To be continued!

Marie LeVeau.

[barbotuslegrand]

Caybouh

Pokemon Galet

Type: Roche/Spectre

Taille: 0,6 m

Poids: 15,1 kg

Talents: Fermeté/Tête de Roc

Talent caché: Solide Roc

Groupe d'œuf: Minéral/Monstrueux

Ceux qui osent toucher les galets du haut de son crane risquent de finir ensevelis sous une pile de cailloux. 

PV: 45

Attaque: 55

Défense: 70

Attaque Spéciale: 45

Défense Spéciale: 70

Vitesse: 40

Total: 325

Evolution au niveau 37

Masterock

Pokemon Galet

Type: Roche/Spectre

Taille: 1,6 m

Poids: 152,0 kg

Talents: Fermeté/Tête de Roc

Talent caché: Solide Roc

Groupe d'œuf: Minéral/Monstrueux

Ils sont plus civilisés quand ils sont agés, leur chapeau en pierre est une vraie fierté chez eux.

PV: 70

Attaque: 85

Défense: 125

Attaque Spéciale: 55

Défense Spéciale: 125

Vitesse: 50

Total: 510