#d-811

[f1q4k1nzz]

:p

[811-d-and-d-au-ask-blog]

Who is by FAR the worst person in the group? Or at least, the likeliest to seek violence

Far worst would be probably be, of the group, Vittorino. Since he’s an oathbreaker he tends to be a little…goofy. He…kinda bit off more than he could chew and is paying the consequences of messing with shit he shouldn’t have touched.

Least likely to cause violence? Ryker. They would rather clip into the backrooms than cause violence. They’re kinda scared of confrontation, especially for a rogue. Sadly they’re the one thrown into the basilica to retrieve enchanted objects the most. Threats are high in there, grudges that refused to die. So someone lurks in there to find a man who strangled him.

[lugoskii]

Happy Halloween! (A bit late 😅) 🎃🕸

[asvetrian-wings]

I HAVE NOT POSTED IN A HOT MINUTE…Anyways hi I was dragged by my legs into 8:11 so now you have to deal with an AU I made for it.

D&D 8:11 AU Anyone? 👁️👁️

Designs I have so far:

Dante as a Tiefling Artificer and Gunslinger

Wankou as an Air Genasi who is a retired Monk (but still trains)

Dakota as a Fire Genasi who is also a retired Monk (doesn’t train as much)

Accardi as a Tiefling Fighter sworn to protect his best friend

Juliek as a Human Sorcerer who can only make things levitate. Everything else is purely wild magic (has turned Accardi into a ferret a few times too many)

[eros7hanatos]

➽ Sleepless Nights

Husband!Diluc x wife!afab reader Warnings: smut, breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, I think that’s all? Word count: 811 A/N: inspired by rice-hime’s fic “well into the weekend”. Diluc is so husband AND daddy material I can't-

art creds: asterrales

Your hands tightly grip the sheets, trying to claw your way out, weakly pulling yourself forward as Diluc’s firm hands pull your hips back; eliciting a loud moan from you.

“D-Diluc!” you scream, your voice as shaky as the rest of your body. You turned your head back to see the glistening body of your husband. He looked so pretty like this, watching you through his red hair that kept sticking on his face, whether it was from sweat or your cum, you didn't know nor care. 

“Didn't you say you wanted us to have a child, love?” he said in a tone so sweet, not matching with his rough and harsh thrusts. You gasped as he reached deeper inside your cunt, pressing onto that sensitive spot. You two had been married for a while now. He was a great husband, however he was almost always busy with work and his own things. You two hadn't had time alone for a long long time, always falling fast asleep before he had even come home. However today was different, Diluc had come back early and you told him how you felt. In a moment of weakness you let slip that you wanted a child.

“You…want a child with me?” he asked, slowly, as if he was thinking hard about what you just said.

“Yes, but it doesn’t have to be now! I understand that you're busy and don't have time. We haven't had sex since our wedding night…you’re probably too tired after working everyday.” you say, you were a bit sad, you had to admit. You would often masterbate alone, missing his fingers, his mouth, his cock… but he was busy, there’s no way he would be able to have time to pleasure you.

“Then it’s a good thing tomorrow's the weekend.” he surprised you. You look at him, wide eyed.

“B-but what about the tavern? and the winery? They’re both open on weekends.” 

“Fuck it. One weekend is worth putting a baby in you.” 

And that’s how you got to this situation. Completely fucked out under Diluc. Archons, how long has it been? You then feel that familiar sensation in your lower abdomen, cunt clenching around Diluc’s cock. You screamed, but no noise came out of your throat as you came once more, sucking your husband dry.

“F-fuck. Y-you have such a beautiful cunt, love. All mine. Let me fill you up again, fill you up until I’m sure you’ll bear my child.” 

His pace slows, pulling his cock out just below the tip to watch the mixture of yours and his juices ooze out of you before slamming back in. Even as his pace slowed, you felt as if he reached even deeper inside you, poking your womb gently. As if giving it a gentle kiss every time he thrusted.

“D-Diluc!” you moan, chanting his name over and over again, like a mantra. You can feel every inch of his cock, every vein, every crevice rubbing against your walls wet with slick. The sounds of vulgar and messy sex that bounces off the walls drives you crazy, the stench of his cum and yours adding to your madness. “F-feels so good. N-need more of your- Ahh! c-cum!”

“I’ll give it all to you, love. Sh-shit- you’re clenching so tight. J-just lie back there while I pump you full of my seed.” 

You feel your cunt pulse, clenching and convulsing, that familiar electric feeling had come to greet you once more. “D-Diluc! C-cumming! ‘M c-cumming!” 

“Hah, hold it out, please, for me love? Want us to- Ngh! C-cum together.” Diluc grunts, fastening his pace and deepening his thrusts, reaching places that you’ve never known he could. You whine and scream, trying your best to delay your high as tears fall from your eyes.

“D-Diluc!” 

“A-almost there, love. Gonna put a baby in you!” he says, looking at you through the curtain of his blazing red hair once more, his grip tight on your hips as he slams into you over and over, chasing his own high. With a few more harsh thrusts, Diluc grunts, “C-cum for me love. G-gonna breed you so well-” 

You both scream, almost in unison, reaching your peaks as a familiar warmth fills your insides. His thrusts continue, letting you ride your high as well as his as he continues giving you his seed which you welcome with open arms, ahem, open legs.

After a moment he stills inside you as your head falls onto the bed sheets below you. You breath heavily then let out a loud gasp as you feel rough fingers brush your clit gently. 

“D-Diluc?!” you say, breathlessly as it turns into a moan. Suddenly, you felt his hips snap into action, slamming into your still sensitive cunt as you cry out in overstimulation.

“I said the weekend. We’ve barely even started, love~”

[argreion]

Who's a Good Boy?

Val Here --- Just a small little thing of pure smut I wanted to do! LITERALLY JUST HORNY ASS LEON! No actual fic today, just at least wanted to write something and do a small me day. We'll do normal dog hybrid Leon soon dw guys! This is only just my brainworm screaming at me! Puppy boy Leon!!! ❤️ (Not proofread, and a little wonky.)

Word count: 811

Warnings: Somno-ish! Small breeding mention. Pussy munch Leon, non-con, and P IN V! Leon trying to be helpful, but really just ruining your sleep and possibly your life in minutes. Literally, this could be triggering to some, so please don't read if you're sensitive to something like this!

FEM READER!

You just smelt so good as you laid in bed to Leon. The way you tossed and turned, completely vulnerable to him. Playing with yourself earlier as he 'napped' in the living room. Oh, you're such a dirty girl, miss owner!

Salivating as he stood over your sleeping form, half of the comforter covering your body. Taunting his little mind to just take you then and there. Gently, he pulled the comforter off your body. Eyes wide as he saw exactly what he wanted.

Your panties. Sitting perfectly on your rear, and drenched with your wetness. Don't worry, he'll clean up for you!

Inching closer towards your sleeping form, eyes watching as you twitched. So cute, only if he knew how to use— uhm, a phone! That thing you always used to call! And to take those cute photos of him!

Palm gently pressing against the mound, letting his fingers go between your clothed folds and rub. So good… He gets to touch you! Nose pressed against you, sniffing to his heart's delight. Watching as you had no response, this was perfect. He should've tried this sooner, just laying there all for him!

Leon couldn't help it as he began to suck on your panties, sucking the juices out of them. Lapping at your panties like a man depraved of food.

Pushing himself further up on your bed, gently turning you onto your back. Cutting panties off like it was stealing candy from a baby. Finally being able to push his mouth into your pussy. Lapping up your folds and sucking on your clit. Humping your sheets furiously as his eyes rolled into the back of his skull.

Moaning pitifully as his cock dribbled down, staining your sheets. You'll have to put a few quarters in the laundry mat to clean that up. Oblivious to the fact, you were slowly waking up…

Why was there something wet down below? D-did I have a wet dream?

Shakily, you reached down to check. Only being met with a lock of hair, squeezing it.

Leon paused, feeling your hand on his hair, panting against your cunt. His eyes became glazed over as he met your gaze. Blue eyes meeting your wide ones.

“You're up!” He yipped, instantly jumping on you. Scrambling to lick at your face.

You couldn't help but scream, watching as he forcefully mounted on. Cock in-between your folds, rutting against the slickness.

“I-it's ok! It's me! Don't you love me? I love you!” Leon panted, sloppily kissing you as he finally thrusted into your weeping hole.

Whining happily, his tail hitting his behind as he hammered into you like a rabbit. Tears going down your face as you stared at him. Attempting to shove his face off as he used you. You taught him to be better!?

In all honesty, he was pent-up. Seeing such cute girls at the park, their owners, you? You were so beautiful! Always praising him for sitting and getting his shots! Helping him with his ruts! Why not let him repay you? Leon is just so grateful for you, miss owner!

Trying to kick at him as he fucked into your tight hole proved futile. Even if he was relatively normal looking, being a hybrid had other… 'Privileges'. That being, he was stronger than you, with the mixed DNA in his body.

“Get off of me, LEON” You cried, slapping at his body. Feeling his hips abruptly stop as he looked down at you. Dazed eyes glancing down.

“G-get off? Why? Don't you feel good? You're all wet! I can help you, you helped me!” The puppy whined, tail moving between his legs as he started to thrust more.

He cried, smothering himself into your chest. Getting his slobber all over your shirt as he basically violated you.

“This isn't right! There are different ways!” Your back arched as he kept pistoning into your sweet spot. Nipping up your neck, giving you hickey's and bruises.

Only cries came from your lips as you felt something the size of a baseball push past your opening. Gripping the pillow beneath yourself as you braced for the pain. Expanding as Leon grew more primal, clearly not in the right state of mind.

“I'll help you feel better, m-miss… When you'll have my puppies! And you don't have to work! I can help you! Let me help you!”

You cried as you felt him empty himself deep inside you. Hips stuttering as he clawed at the sheets. A pleasured look on his face.

Leon panted, his tail wagging as he laid on top of you. Wrapping his arms around you as you shook in place. Love radiating off of him, as you laid there in utter shock. Frozen as you realized what happened. Tears going down your face.

How were you going to explain this to your friends and parents?

[cyberrose2001]

Kinktober: Day 1

Prompt: Handjob

TFP Wheeljack x GN Reader

Warnings: Handjob (duh), reader gets a facial, reader is human.

Word count: 811

You knew Wheeljack was the adventurous type of mech. One that genuinely does not give a fuck about anyone or anything, go big or go home kind of thing. Other than his suaveness and ability to make your knees buckle every time he looks at you, it’s one of the reasons why you fell for him. So when he told you to pack a day bag because we’re “hittin’ the road for the weekend”, you were bound to expect or encounter some sort of adventure. And you’ll be damned if you weren’t at least a little excited to be alone with your metallic crush deep in the forest, keeping you safe from bears and whatever rabid squirrels that want to steal your trail mix.

“Frag, yeah. Just like that.”

Although, having Wheeljack back up against a tree while your hands pump around his deliciously thick spike doesn’t sound too bad, either.

You don’t know how it happened, but you’ve somehow learned that the trope of two people in a forest getting hot and bothered over each other absolutely applies to Cybertronians.

You’re kneeling between his spread thighs, legs covered in dirt and grit. One hand at the base of his cock whilst you drag your fingertips across the tip, eliciting delightful groans from the mech above you. His servos are by his side, digging into the soil at your teasing touch.

“C’mon, sweetspark. You can be a bit rougher than that.”

“You seem more desperate than I am.”

“Well, you were the one who started gettin’ all touchy-feely first,” Wheeljack gives you a shit-eating grin, which you promptly wipe from his face with a rough tug on his spike, “I-I’m just -ahhg- along for the ride.”

“You won’t be getting any rides if you keep talking shit.” You half-joke back because, in actual fact, you’re really desperate to slide yourself on his spike afterwards.

“I better keep my mouth shut then.” Wheeljack breathes out as you finally start to work your hands over his spike.

Speaking of which, it’s thick, really thick. And as stiff as a dick could ever get. And despite Wheeljack's attempts to not seem as desperate as you are, it’s already weeping with precum.

Deciding that you’re also really desperate for a load to the face, you get serious and wrap both of your hands around his cock. Which you find is really hard to do when you’ve only got precum to work with. So, leaning forward, you hover your mouth over the tip and make a show of welling some saliva into your mouth, and then proceed to stick your tongue out and let it run down onto it. It dribbles over the tip, weaves into the crevasses of your knuckles and down onto the rest of his shaft. And Wheeljacks engine fucking revs.

“Wow, now that’s a sight.” Wheeljack purrs.

With enough spit to cure even the harshest droughts coating his spike, you continue pumping, watching Wheeljack's optics boar into yours as you twist your wrists up and down slowly. It’s also the perfect opportunity to soak in the sight before you. His helm has lulled back against the tree trunk, his intake open just slightly, the mounds of dirt from the craters he’s making with his servos, the small thrusts of his hips meeting the palms of your hands. It’s incredible how quickly a giant, smart-ass mech like him has succumbed to a tiny human jerking him off in the middle of the goddamn forest.

“O-Oh frag, yes,” Wheejack squeezes his optics shut and arches his back struts against the tree as your pace quickens, strangling your hands as they meet the tip, “Faster, please, Y/n I’m so close-“

“You wanna overload on my face so bad, hm?” You moan with him, sticking your tongue out to receive his load with the utmost enthusiasm. Your muscles are sore, and your knees hurt from digging into the ground for so long, but you won't stop until he’s putty in your hands.

“Yes yes yes! Slag it, Y/n!” Wheeljack’s engine roars, his thighs spread as far as they can as jets of trans fluid shoot out onto your face. Some drip down onto your chest and thighs, while some overflow over your knuckles and pool onto the junction between his abdomen and spike. It’s warm, glows slightly pink and is absolutely addicting against your tongue.

“Oh, wow.” Wheeljack whines as he glances down at your body, admiring the artwork he made of you, “You.. aahn... you look fraggin’ gorgeous.”

You give him a devilish smile, before squeezing the tip of his pulsing cock again, earning a rough growl from him, “Round two?”

Wheeljack huffs, ripping your hands away from his spike and dragging you onto his thighs. His length dangerously pressing against your clothed heat.

“Yeah, sweetspark. But how ‘bout I frag your brains out first, huh?”

[rlyehtaxidermist]

Case, I.R.; Mitra, D. (1898) “The magical girl transformation sequence as an example of Poulton’s theory of aposematic adaptation.” Proceedings of the People’s Thaumaturgical Society. 2 (17): 720-811.

[confessions-of-a-bookworm]

Narnia Incorrect Quotes 811/?

Caspian: Anyone d-

Lucy: Depressed?

Peter: Drained?

Susan: Dumb?

Edmund: Disliked?

Caspian: Done with their work? What is wrong with you people?

[jacky93sims]

Blossoming Rosy 4to2 Yankee Candle

I made this 4to2 conversion from Blossoming Rosy.

This is not a deco object but a lamp, you can turn it off and on depending on your taste. You will find it in buy mode->table lamp. It seems small but it's a big size for a candle :D

You will need the principal candle "Apple Campfire" that is the mesh. Every other color is a recolor of it.

Facecount=811 Vertexcount=521

DOWNLOAD HERE

[compneuropapers]

Interesting Papers for Week 51, 2023

The medial entorhinal cortex is necessary for the stimulus control over hippocampal place fields by distal, but not proximal, landmarks. Allison, E. A. M. A., Moore, J. W., Arkell, D., Thomas, J., Dudchenko, P. A., & Wood, E. R. (2023). Hippocampus, 33(7), 811–829.

Gating of homeostatic regulation of intrinsic excitability produces cryptic long-term storage of prior perturbations. Alonso, L. M., Rue, M. C. P., & Marder, E. (2023). Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 120(26), e2222016120.

An entorhinal-like region in food-caching birds. Applegate, M. C., Gutnichenko, K. S., Mackevicius, E. L., & Aronov, D. (2023). Current Biology, 33(12), 2465-2477.e7.

Stress degrades working memory-related frontostriatal circuit function. Berridge, C. W., Devilbiss, D. M., Martin, A. J., Spencer, R. C., & Jenison, R. L. (2023). Cerebral Cortex, 33(12), 7857–7869.

Distinct frequencies balance segregation with interaction between different memory types within a prefrontal circuit. Bracco, M., Mutanen, T. P., Veniero, D., Thut, G., & Robertson, E. M. (2023). Current Biology, 33(12), 2548-2556.e6.

Reward influences the allocation but not the availability of resources in visual working memory. Brissenden, J. A., Adkins, T. J., Hsu, Y. T., & Lee, T. G. (2023). Journal of Experimental Psychology. General, 152(7), 1825–1839.

Abstract Value Encoding in Neural Populations But Not Single Neurons. Fine, J. M., Maisson, D. J.-N., Yoo, S. B. M., Cash-Padgett, T. V, Wang, M. Z., Zimmermann, J., & Hayden, B. Y. (2023). Journal of Neuroscience, 43(25), 4650–4663.

The role of self-occluding contours in material perception. Marlow, P. J., Prior de Heer, B., & Anderson, B. L. (2023). Current Biology, 33(12), 2528-2534.e5.

Emergence of a predictive model in the hippocampus. Miller, A. M. P., Jacob, A. D., Ramsaran, A. I., De Snoo, M. L., Josselyn, S. A., & Frankland, P. W. (2023). Neuron, 111(12), 1952-1965.e5.

Implicit learning of the one-back reinforcement matching-mismatching task by pigeons. Peng, D. N., & Zentall, T. R. (2023). Current Biology, 33(12), 2582-2585.e2.

Neural correlates of visual and tactile path integration and their task related modulation. Rosenblum, L., Kreß, A., Arikan, B. E., Straube, B., & Bremmer, F. (2023). Scientific Reports, 13, 9913.

Meridional binocular rivalry reveals a trace of uncorrected oblique input during development in the adult brain. Serero, G., Lev, M., & Polat, U. (2023). Scientific Reports, 13, 9920.

Mice identify subgoal locations through an action-driven mapping process. Shamash, P., Lee, S., Saxe, A. M., & Branco, T. (2023). Neuron, 111(12), 1966-1978.e8.

Generalization of cognitive maps across space and time. Sherrill, K. R., Molitor, R. J., Karagoz, A. B., Atyam, M., Mack, M. L., & Preston, A. R. (2023). Cerebral Cortex, 33(12), 7971–7992.

The “curse of knowledge” when predicting others’ knowledge. Tullis, J. G., & Feder, B. (2023). Memory & Cognition, 51(5), 1214–1234.

Human orbitofrontal cortex signals decision outcomes to sensory cortex during behavioral adaptations. Wang, B. A., Veismann, M., Banerjee, A., & Pleger, B. (2023). Nature Communications, 14, 3552.

Detailed characterization of neural selectivity in free viewing primates. Yates, J. L., Coop, S. H., Sarch, G. H., Wu, R.-J., Butts, D. A., Rucci, M., & Mitchell, J. F. (2023). Nature Communications, 14, 3656.

Grid cell disruption in a mouse model of early Alzheimer’s disease reflects reduced integration of self-motion cues. Ying, J., Reboreda, A., Yoshida, M., & Brandon, M. P. (2023). Current Biology, 33(12), 2425-2437.e5.

Aperiodic neural activity reflects metacontrol. Zhang, C., Stock, A.-K., Mückschel, M., Hommel, B., & Beste, C. (2023). Cerebral Cortex, 33(12), 7941–7951.

Dyadic visual perceptual learning on orientation discrimination. Zhang, Y., Bi, K., Li, J., Wang, Y., & Fang, F. (2023). Current Biology, 33(12), 2407-2416.e4.

[811-d-and-d-au-ask-blog]

ok but is dante actually a yoinku spoinkly? does he get up to mischief occasionally? is he the silliest guy of them all? i must know.

The other does not speak, though somehow you can hear their voice in your mind.

“If filling my name and my heavenly father’s with fear to whoever speaks it is what you call Yoinky Sploinky…then yes. I will make sure this new generation does more than just worship. They will forever be faithful. If they run from it I will hunt them.

I…still don’t think that’s the true definition of yoinky sploinky though. You humans and your funky words. Not even Accardi knows what you mean…at least, when we spoke in my memories that is. Is this some kind of new language?” - Dante

He now stares at you like this, he knows well the extensive lists of crimes he has:

[kindness-ricochets]

Fic Stats Tag Game

Rules: Give us the links to your fics with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and your fic with the least amount of words. tagged by @tinyarmedtrex Most hits: A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Republican National Convention - 25804 hits -

Jesper and Wylan meet at a farmers’ convention and, long story short, they might have to overthrow the government. Jesper was supposed to spend spring break at Nina’s—then a joint turned up in his backpack and his da decided he was coming to the convention instead. He’s miserable and bored until a chance encounter with a shy artist. He never expected to meet someone sweet, gorgeous, and interested in him in the middle of Iowa. There’s just one tiny problem: Wylan’s father is nationally prominent and openly homophobic.

Second most kudos: Things and Comforts - 811 kudos -

Everything is over and nothing is normal. Wylan should be delighted. He can live a comfortable life now, no longer afraid of his father. He can bring his mother home. He can spend the rest of his life making payments on that steep fee of Jesper's. (He hopes he can spend the rest of his life making payments on that steep fee of Jesper's.) Instead the return to Geldstraat brings new challenges. It's not Kaz or Jan calling the shots anymore, it's Wylan, and he'll need to decide if he's equal to the challenge of managing his father's empire, caring for the remains of his family, and becoming one of the few good men in Ketterdam.

Third most comments: A Measure of the Sum of Parts - 195 comments -

Wylan works to improve Kerch, partly by aligning with a growing workers’ movement, even as half the Merchant Council digs in their heels. Jesper knows he should be more, but he’s afraid to become more of a disappointment. The boys love each other. It’s enough… just barely. Then Jesper makes a terrible mistake, one that leads him to Ravka and a sojourn in the Little Palace. He needs to learn to control his abilities, he wants to, but that's easier said than done. Back in Ketterdam, Wylan digs into his family history, uncovering another of Jan Van Eck's dirty little secrets. Jesper and Wylan expected a reunion in Ravka. They never expected to mend their relationship at the heart of an international incident. Lies, poison, and lost children... just like old times!

Fourth most bookmarks: I had to go into my statistics for this because as far as public bookmarks, it's tied -- everything looks worse at night (I think I'm overthinking) - 158 bookmarks

It's Kaz's own fault for being a stupid skiv and getting himself nabbed off streets he knew like breathing. It's Kaz's fault. He tells himself that. (Repeatedly.) Kaz is held, captive and sick, in a basement he can't recognize, but when luck gives him a way out he runs to the closest safe place he can think of--Wylan's. Wylan doesn't expect a desperate, fevered crime lord to break into his house. He's stopped thinking life will be the way he expects, though, and sure Kaz is the Bastard of the Barrel, but he's Wylan's friend. What else could he do but look after him while he recovers?

Fifth most words: Love From 1964 - 75403 words

Ororo and Scott return to New York, but with so many homes lost, she struggles to believe in this one. What are you if you can't feel at ease in your own home or your own skin? Meanwhile, Charles plans to bring a new student to the school…

Least words: "Wylan" - 404 words

A single word can hold so much meaning…

That was fun! Thank you for tagging me! I'm not sure who to tag, but if you want to, please consider yourself tagged :D

[breninarthur]

IT'S FRIDAY ASTER!! I come begging for some Kallian Tabris & Daveth pretty please! With the prompt "(Lure) Silent beckoning of the forest" from the Eerie Vague Autumn prompts, please??? (It's always Halloween in my heart, okay LOL)

HAPPY FRIDAY NIRI AND HAPPY MARCH HALLOWEEN!!! 💖

thank you for the prompt! this was my first time writing awakening-era kallian :) not quite sure if i really filled the prompt lmao but i enjoyed it anyway! (apologies in advance.)

rated t. kallian tabris & daveth for @dadrunkwriting. 811 words. creepiness.

*

"Something's wrong," Kallian muttered, holding out her arm to stop her companions.

"It's just the Blackmarsh," Nathaniel replied, his voice low. It was an eerie place, full of fog and cricketing bugs, and they'd each fallen silent without discussion as they crossed into its boundaries.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Kallian remarked, impatient as she turned to inspect him. They hadn't quite gotten used to each other yet. When Kallian looked at him, she saw his father who'd sold her people into slavery. When Nathaniel looked at her, he saw his father's murderer, the one who'd disgraced his family name.

"My... family used to tell me stories of this place," he said, stepping forward and waiting for her to carry on. "It's haunted."

"The Veil here is thin," Velanna interrupted, clutching to her staff tightly.

"Great," Kallian grumbled.

"Nothing our fearless leader can't handle," Anders grinned. She forced a smile back, but he reminded her too much of Alistair for it to be genuine. She hadn't seen him for weeks.

"Just be on your guard," she said, drawing her sword and hefting her shield into place.

Within the hour; the marshlands had separated them.

"Shit," Kallian hissed, stumbling past another tree she'd been sure was one of her Wardens. Travelling with them was incredibly different to what she was used to. They were not her friends, and they never would be. She was their Warden-Commander. Their Duncan. She'd brought them into this forsaken place, and it was her responsibility to get them out.

"Anders?" she called, suppressing the shiver that ran through her at the prospect of raising her voice. With any luck, her Wardens would be the only ones who heard her.

"Velanna?" She would have plenty to say when they did reunite, Kallian was sure of that. She reminded her of Morrigan. The thought made her grit her teeth. If her best friend hadn't run off as soon as she could, Velanna's disappointment and scathing remarks might have been a fond reminder.

"Nathaniel?" There was still no answer.

The Blackmarsh was suffocating in its darkness. The tall, willowy trees forbade moonlight, and she'd stupidly been relying on the mages for light. It had barely been something she'd needed to think about before, between Morrigan, Wynne, and Shale.

Every twig that snapped underfoot was a painful buzz at the back of her neck. She felt like she was being watched.

She missed Ciarth.

"Kallian?"

She spun around at the sound of her name. There was no one there. Her breath came quick, pluming ahead of her like campfire smoke but not half as comforting.

"Oh, you bastard," she whispered shakily, her wide eyes wildly darting from side-to-side. Demons, spirits, whatever it was... she hated it.

Kallian slowly pivoted back, ready to press on and find her group.

A scream tore through her throat without mercy. She staggered backwards, tripping over a sprawling root and landing in a heap on the wet ground.

As she'd turned, she'd been nose to nose with an impossibility.

"D-Daveth?" she whimpered, gaping in horror.

He stared at her. It wasn't him, it couldn't have been, she knew it. If not for the fact he'd died over a year ago – he wasn't smiling. Daveth was always smiling.

"Kallian," he said, and Maker, did it sound like him. She'd thought that voice was familiar.

He sounded strange, though. There was no laughter in his voice, no hint of a joke ready to go.

Dried blood drenched the lower half of his face, and his nose sat at an odd angle.

She knew it wasn't him. But for the life of her, she couldn't tear her eyes away.

"How did you do it?" he asked, standing stock still. For a moment she thought he was talking about the archdemon, and panic throbbed in her chest once again at the thought of anyone finding out about Morrigan's ritual. Of her part in it.

"Do–"

"Let me die?"

A lump stuck in her throat, and tears quickly flooded to her eyes.

"I–"

"Why didn't you help me?"

"Daveth–"

"And now you've forgotten me."

Her hand flew to her Warden's amulet. She'd scratched his name and Jory's on the back of it almost as soon as she'd gotten it.

"No," she whispered, struggling to her feet despite the sickness in her stomach threatening to spill over. This was the Gauntlet all over again.

When she stood, her sword shaking in her hand, Not-Daveth still stared at the spot she had been. His eyebrows pinched upwards, his head tilted slightly. He looked unbearably sad.

He wasn't real. Not a ghost either. Daveth was gone. She had to say something to vanquish whatever demonic magic was at work.

Kallian drew in a deep breath.

"Fuck off."

A rustle of leaves.

"Commander?"

She turned to see who it was.

When she looked back; Daveth was gone again.

[asecretvice]

Rereading 'And this your living kiss' and it really makes me want to take Cas's class haha! Which got me wondering whether you might have any recommendations how to ease into reading poetry or learning more about it as someone who has been out of school for a while? I find the way you talk about poetry in that fic incredible and I reference it all the time when speaking about fan fiction in general, because not only do you flesh out these characters so beautifully, you also write original poetry from a character's viewpoint and it's analysis?! It is honestly super inspiring. I'll stop gushing now haha :D

(Also sorry I might have unfollowed/refollowed you a few times earlier since my tumblr was glitching...)

Oh my goodness, thank you so much! This is very kind of you. That you feel inspired means so much to me ^_^ [And no worries about the following stuff. Tumblr is as tumblr does, lol.]

And now I have wonderful news for you--there are several avenues you can take when easing back into poetry! I answered an ask a while back in which someone requested recs, and much of that still holds true: seek out anthologies; look into different countries' most celebrated poets; peruse exemplars from various poetic movements, etc.

But how to get to those things? Let us count the ways!

The Library. I don't know where you live, but hopefully you have access to either a public or university library (many of which allow non-students to get cards as well). Different types of libraries have different aims when it comes to curating a collection, but either way if you head to the 811s and thereabouts (if they use the Dewey Decimal System) you will have a ton of stuff to choose from. Again, go to the anthologies so you can read a wide variety of poetry. Then, mark every time you read a poem that stirs something inside you. Then by the end of it you'll have a ready-made list of poets to explore more in depth. At the same time, you've really widened your horizons. If there's already a poet or two you have in mind, a library will likely carry a collection or even a complete collection of their work. Reading the complete collection of a poet can be just as illuminating an experience as reading a wide-reaching anthology. You see a poet grow before your very eyes, can feel the themes as they evolve in their clever hands, watch as they experiment and find their unique voice. I prefer physical books when possible, but libraries also have one or more ebook subscription services, such as Libby or Hoopla, that you can access as well if that's more convenient for you. And, if you're unfamiliar with libraries you may not have heard of interlibrary loan before--this is when a library will look outside of its own system for a book, so even if none of their branches carry it, they will find someone in the country who does and then bring it to their library for you. The best part about this is that these services should all be free to you. Unfortunately that is not true of every library, but most try their best, because freedom of and access to information is their mission. That makes the library the perfect place to explore things you don't necessarily want to invest your resources in.

Of course, if you do have some resources don't neglect to check out your local bookstore. If you're lucky, you have access to some independent bookstores! I mean, if you've only got access to a big chain go there too, but in my experience unless it's a huge store they only carry what will specifically sell because it's a classic likely to be assigned by local schools, or the odd book that has big prospects. Which is totally fine! But what an independent bookstore can give you is a more personally curated collection. If you're lucky, you can find little gems in addition to what will conventionally sell. Regardless the owners/managers of such a bookstore will have a working relationship with lots of different publishers and their salespeople, and will have a more interesting spread. There are websites, such as libro.fm and bookshop.org, which support independent bookstores for your online book and audiobook shopping needs.

The internet, especially The Poetry Foundation. The organization behind the website also publishes Poetry Magazine. You will find most popular poets on this website, often with an accompanying bio. This will give you a decent overview of whoever you're looking up. Sometimes when you click on a poem it will lead you to the page of a digital upload of the magazine--which is amazing, because then you can keep turning the pages and read everything they published in May of 1952, or whatever. Also when you're on the front page of the website you can read articles and interviews etc about poetry. A small caveat about this, and any other poetry journal or anthology. These poems are chosen by editors and other people who fancy themselves good arbiters of what is the best kind of poetry. Sometimes they're right; sometimes they're wrong; sometimes it's simply a matter of taste. People are inherently subjective, poetry is very subjective, and therefore all sorts of biases can be in play. Another factor to consider is that a lot of poetry from the 20th century on is still under copyright, whether under a trust or the author/author's family. Therefore some of the selections of poems that the site has for someone isn't necessarily what they'd choose, but what they're allowed to host on their site. Another source to really consider is wikipedia. I know, I know, but it's great at two things: a) lists and b) sourcing. Look at lists of your country's poet laureates (even states/provinces and cities can have them too!). Look at winners and nominees for major literary prizes. Pick a poet, scroll down to the bottom, and see what categories the wiki elves have put them in (eg, "Poets in such and such movement") and see who else is a part of it.

People. Don't underestimate the people around you. Friends, family, even coworkers. The most random people might have an opinion--or a wealth of knowledge--that surprises you. Ask them, even, if they remember what sort of poems/poets they were taught in school. If nothing else, it will tell you what's stuck with them all this time. And hey, wherever there's someone whose taste you trust, may as well mine them for more recs!

Books about poetry. Okay, so you've got several avenues you can take when looking to read poetry. But you mention learning--so let's talk about those resources. I would say there are a few different angles to take here: anthologies, histories, biographies, and workbooks. I know I've already mentioned anthologies, but it's worth mentioning here again because not all anthologies are alike. They're edited by different people and have different goals. Sometimes the goal is to give as wide a spread of a certain thing as possible; other times it's to be very narrow in scope for deeper exploration. Likewise, sometimes they will have a lot to say before a certain poem/poet is introduced, and sometimes they stick with bare bones. Flip through an anthology before committing to it to see if it strikes the right balance for you. How much context would you like? Histories is kind of a wide range...they overlap a lot with biographies and more academic ventures. These are the type that might focus on a pair or group of poets who had a relationship of some kind (friendship, antagonism, student-teacher, etc). So you know, you can find a book about the Pre-Raphaelites, for example, and if the author(s) know what they're about you'll get tons of amazing context for the point in time, the social fabric they lived in, their influences, and why they changed the world, basically. Biographies are that, but more focused on one person. I really enjoy biographies about poets because in my experience the author set out to write the book because they really love the poetry and find the person behind it interesting. Sometimes they have even been a student of the poet in question. I think it's really great to get so much historical and personal context, because you can read the poetry in so many more ways. (I don't know what your educational background is, but are you familiar with the various types of literary criticism? There are so many lenses to choose from, and all useful in different ways. If you're interested in hearing more about that, let me know!) Workbooks are ones that are designed to help you write poetry. Even if you're not interested in pursuing writing for yourself, it can teach you a whole lot about reading it because it gives you a greater understanding of its underlying structure. Stephen Fry's The Ode Less Travelled does well with introducing poetic elements, providing examples, and setting up exercises for you to try yourself. I hope at least some of this has been helpful to you. Thanks again for your ask!

[towelpng]

argwvdhsg it’s 2am and i’m having the panic attack of the 21st century here’s some lore

..

in the retirement fund au all of the creeps have more or less burnt out. they’re regretting decisions and life events that led to their transformations, and kinda wishing they could just live normal lives. it’s the most free range prison in the world.

they were brought to The Aether by slenderman / the operator / the keeper / the collector majorly because he found them interesting, especially in that a lot of them should be dead or should have stayed dead, but just aren’t/didn’t

The Aether is a sapient realm, like the beldam from coraline kinda, the whole place is alive and awake and listening.

there are several apartment complexes about it, the one i draw for is building 8. everyone in it is selected for it, it isn’t random, but the criteria for it is something that only The Aether itself knows. only building 8 assigned creeps can enter building 8, and the same goes for the other several buildings.

here’s the rough floor plans for building 8 (each flat is 20ft*20ft, which is pretty small for a flat, but they’re all studios and none of them pay rent so)

811-818 is the first floor and 821-828 is the second floor. first digit is the building, second digit is the floor, and third digit is the room.

generally speaking, a room picks you moreso than you pick a room, but they’re all structured exactly the same, so it doesn’t really matter.

each building has its own sub-sapience that falls into a hive-mind with The Aether; but each building has different wants.

ex, rene was placed in 825 because they’re physically disabled, and it’s hard for them to get downstairs by themself, thereby forcing a majorly antisocial person to talk to the others, if only to ask for help down the stairs

the common area is the only room in the house with game stations

let’s get into individual characters :)

after years of being shot/shot at in addition to the shell of his ear being compromised by his burns, jeff wears hearing aids so he doesn’t have to say “what” 40 times a minute ; jeff also has a difficult time with ASPD, and is doing his best to keep to himself, but at his core he’s really combative and likes to start shit. so most of the time, his best is just not playing devils advocate, which is a HUGE step for him :D!!

janes mask is a prosthetic, being that her burns ruined the respiratory protection that was her nose. while jeff has the base structure, the burns on janes face were especially extensive, and she has a nasal cavity, but no nose; which leaves her VERY open to respiratory/sinus infection. to combat it, she uses a sort of inhaler that’s basically a gentle antiseptic, and takes a sinus pill. in addition to those, her mask has structures in it that function as an air filter around her nose, and helps her mouth rest more naturally due to the damage to the surrounding fatty tissue (her mouth doesn’t do that comfortable vacuum thing that it used to do when resting, where your cheeks are kinda sucked in bc your mouth is airtight)

ben was ~12 until around 2020, at which point he was allowed to instantaneously upgrade to 24-25 range. this had the completely unforeseen consequence of him completely losing track of what he does and doesn’t know. things that made COMPLETE sense to his half baked brain suddenly didn’t make ANY sense to his fully matured brain. so he struggles with his memory, logic and reasoning, and emotional awareness. him accidentally laughing when someone is crying because he read the situation wrong is a shockingly common occurrence.

jane + nina will never and i mean NEVER forgive jeff, but if we’re honest they’ve kicked his ass half to death enough times that they’re kinda done, because god forbid they feel BAD for this piece of shit, so they’ll just stop at a low neutral. at this point, they’re both just kinda mean to him when they see him, and that suffices most of the time.

jonathan blake / puppeteer now goes by just blake due to sally’s apprehension around his OG first name iykyk

sally had a similar deal to ben, but pretty long ago, considering she’s literally around 65 years old now, but technically around 26. she spent around 10 years being 12 years old, until she was ready to move on, at which point The Aether also permitted her to age up a good bit.

Jack didn’t used to be interested in anatomy, but has become more or less the building doctor of everything, majorly because he was nosy and curious and has to cut people open anyways to eat. so now he has a vast knowledge of what is and isn’t normal in terms of intestines. yes that does mean he has played gynecologist and urologist. yes it was horrifically awkward for all involved parties. yes they went to a pharmacy for real medicine to treat the issue.

Joules (Helen) Otis changed his name after a while away from the fuckass bitches who tried to pretend he was a girl, and has really delved into different art mediums as of late, so he’s kinda like the house lizard. seen 1-2 times weekly and probably because his usual hide (his room) is a little too cold and he needs to warm up.

nat took a LONG time to warm up to doctors again, but eventually met her current doctor, who is a do no harm take no shit kind of person, and has always treated her with dignity and compassion. they wound up putting her on an anti-anxiety med while they work out genetic testing to see what antipsychotics she’s compatible with for her OCD.

after years of living in survival mode, toby finally crashed. lately, he does a lot of whittling/carving and has started to get into woodworking. he’s one of few who still works out intensively almost daily, mostly because he’ll get muscle aches if he doesn’t keep using them, being that he’s got the metabolism of a 25 year old for the rest of his life (basically eternity).

rene and jack have both been undergoing a very long, very slow transformation.

jack grows ~.5 inches (1cm) every year, and now sees in brief occasional snapshots (like when a horror game only gives you a camera flash for a light source); this is compensated for by grooves under his jaw that are hypersensitive to any air motion, long ears that funnel in basically any sound closer than 20m from him, his tongue picks up scents and allows him to differentiate familiar people without the snapshots (which take up a BIT of energy), and his jaws now function like an industrial shredder (instead of his teeth resting on each other when he closes his mouth, they fold back into his mouth, which very loosely looks like human teeth, so long as he keeps his mouth shut).

on the flip side, rene’s hair is losing the ability to reflect any light, their skin is becoming more stark white by the day, and their iris and pupil are quickly taking up a majority of their eyes, which makes them hypersensitive to light. they’re also fluctuating wildly between spitting up anything they try to eat, and becoming suddenly hungry enough that they’ll do anything to make the stomach pain stop.

okay i have quelled my own panic attack via special interest that is all u get for now