#the conditions of the world of which I who am not my body exactly but am filtered through my body and personality experience and then it is

[cat-marshmallow]

z

[ghoulphile]

no use cryin' over spilled milk | c.h./the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 2.8 k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; dirty talk, frottage, lactation kink, pregnant!reader, fingerfucking, praise kink, breast play, the ghoul calls reader pretty mama, he's a pervert who wants to lend a 'helping' hand ➥ summary | based off this ask; oops being an experiment from vault 4 where you may be the first rad resistant human pregnant with a possibly rad resistant baby, and you come across the ghoul who helps you get to a safe place but then he gets attached with you and the baby 🥺 (this is just me trying to insert a lactation kink somewhere i'm sorry) ➥ notes | uhhhh pls let me know if i missed anything, my brain is dribbling out my ears (its 3:44 am and i have work at 8 am rip) but the parasites persist. i'll do the tag list when i wake up ❤️ masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

Going topside wasn’t an easy decision.

In fact, bile bitter regret often lingers in the back of your throat - a lump that stifled the air in your lungs.

And while you might’ve been bioengineered to survive better under these harsh wasteland conditions, every time you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you're catapulted headlong into paralyzing self doubt; alone and rudderless.

No one lives in the vaults - not truly.

Birdie (and the others) warned you of what awaited beyond those lead-lined walls. But you couldn’t abide spending the rest of your life trapped in a cage, albeit a gilded one.

Not anymore.

Oh no, you wanted to feel a real breeze instead of air pumped through the HVAC. Experience the sun baking warm into your skin like fresh bread instead of the artificial heat of the UV lamp used for mandatory light therapy sessions. Complain about the chafe of sand in your shoes and hear the crunch of dirt under foot instead of a hollow clunk of sterile metal.

To witness first hand all the sights, sounds, and smells this world offers. 

Only… you didn’t expect it to be this hard.

Nor did you expect to be pregnant when setting off into the great unknown on your own (a definite oversight on your part [you really shouldn’t have had one last hurrah before hitting the road]).

Through trial and error, motion sicknesses that swing into crippling nausea as manic energy - your first taste of true freedom! - dwindled into dragging fatigue, you found a happy medium. None of which would have been possible had it not been for the most unlikely of companions.

Ghouls; who knew, huh?

Sure, you’d heard of them from the rotating door of visitors that found themselves at Vault 4, but you’d never seen them. While you grew up surrounded by visible mutations, seeing the battlefield of his body was off putting; how a person could survive a patina of burns and patchwork slices without unraveling at the seams was beyond you.

And kind of frightening.

But he took it in stride, introducing himself as Ghoul. Refused to divulge anything else of substance no matter how much you poked and prodded.  His life pre-bomb was a complete mystery filled with plot holes and unanswered questions (which is exactly what he preferred).

You learned to be comfortable with his meandering conversations, and all the words he spoke that said much of nothing. And what you did glean, you did so through observation alone. 

He was alone - had been for a very long time.

He was very old - one of the last of his kind.

And he was, in his own way, very kind - at least by wasteland standards.

“The fuck you doin’?”

Pausing, you stop mid push and hover awkwardly on your hands and knees. The vault suit pulls taut across your hips, pinching behind your knees uncomfortably. Your toes squeak in your shoes, socks thoroughly soaked through with sweat.

It’s been unseasonably hot (or it’s the hormones). Whatever the case, this is the first semi-decent lodging you’ve camped in for weeks, and you’re not about to miss an opportunity to freshen up.

And maybe find a way to soothe the building ache in your tits - flesh swollen tender and nipples rubbed raw.

“I’m just, uh, gonna,” you motion towards the back of the house, the askew bathroom door clinging to its hinges by a corner, “y’know, f-freshen up. See if they don’t still have some water.”

The Ghoul scans you up and down, gimlet-eyed. “S’that so?”

You huff, your knees starting to ache.

Being five months pregnant throws your center of gravity for a loop, the atmosphere weighing extra heavy on your bones. It doesn’t help that the baby’s decided sitting directly on your bladder with a foot tucked under your ribs is the best position.

“Didn’t know I needed permission to take a piss now,” you snipe. Usually, you try to reign in the hormones but the day’s been too long and you’re in pain. Anyone would be a little snippy (right?). “Can I do that on my own or do you need to watch, Mr. Ghoul?”

A faint smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, his gaze glinting from beneath the rim of his hat as he tips his head. “Better watch it, sweetheart,” he says. “Otherwise, I might have’ta wash your mouth out with soap.”

Pushing yourself up with a grunt, you determinedly ignore the raspy chuckle that follows as you waddle towards the bathroom. Cussing him out all the while in your mind.

While he’s been ‘nicer’ today - stopping for extra breaks, even packing it in several hours earlier than usual because he noticed how weary you looked - he’s still an asshole.

The toilet’s gone, the tub’s tipped sideways, the linoleum’s cracked, and closing the door sounds like a pack of howling mole rats but its functional. When you catch your reflection in the spider web fractures of the mirror, you grimace.

The wastes have certainly left their mark on you. Gone is the prim-and-proper vault dweller, replaced by a gremlin of a woman Overseer Benjamin would surely scowl at.

A true ‘surfie’ now.

“Great,” you groan, scrubbing a palm over your face. “Just - ugh!”

You’re caked in grime, a steak of dirt smeared across the bridge of your nose. Mysterious stains darken the blue fabric, the golden stripes of your suit an off-putting grey.

Your hair clumps in greasy chunks. You’re glossy with sweat, and while your curves have plumped up over the last few months, you didn’t realize just how much until now.

The vault suit’s always been tight - now it clings and creases in unflattering places. And there’s nothing you can do about it, unless the Ghoul is willing to spare a sewing kit.

You could let the waist out some…

What the hell am I gonna do if he won’t? There’s no way I’ll fit if this baby gets any bigger. Shit, I look like a fucking sausage. Your hand cradles the side of your stomach, stroking over the bump with a frown. This is all your fault, you little parasite.

“You better be so fucking cute - the cutest goddamn baby in the wasteland. Or I will riot.”

Tugging down the zipper over your breasts is heaven, the swollen flesh spilling out of the parting fabric, no longer compressed. It’s almost enough to make you cry as you struggle to tug the lycra off your shoulders, the fabric putting up a fight.

After some awkward contortions that pull uncomfortably at the muscles of your shoulder blades, you manage to wrangle yourself free.

The temptation to burn the stupid goddamn suit is almost too much to resist, but then you’d really be traipsing around the wasteland in the nude and just… no.

Peeling off your undershirt is another story altogether, the soft cotton feeling like sandpaper as it scrapes over sensitive skin. Your nerves tingle with awareness, bolts of pain shooting through your nipples with every shift.

Quick like a bandaid, you think, taking a steadying inhale.

It’s a miracle you don’t scream.

Tears cling to your lashes, your nose running as you toss the shirt to the side with one hand and cradle your chest with the other. Sure, you’ve had tenderness with your period but this kind of pain? A whole new level.

You almost don’t know what to do with yourself.

How is this fair - aren’t you suffering enough?

Sniffling, you peer down at your tits and gingerly cup them with your palms. Swollen hard and warm to the touch; a heavy weight crushing your ribs.

Do I really have to milk myself like a fucking brahmin? Another bolt of lightning crackles through your nerve endings as if in response. Fine. God, this is embarrassing.

Only any attempt at touching your nipples produces pure agony, shards of glass biting into delicate skin.

No matter how slight your touch, no matter how gentle your fingers - it doesn’t work. Leaves you more distraught and in pain than when you began as inflamed nerve endings crackle and burn.

And when the tears truly start, the dam breaks. It’s not long before they drip down your cheeks in fat rivulets, your breath hitching from you in pathetic little exhales.

Your fist shoves against your mouth in an attempt to smother the sounds, teeth sinking into your knuckle until you leave sore indents.

But you should know better, not only does the Ghoul have heightened senses (he’s taunted you constantly with this fact like the asshole he is), but he’s uncannily perceptive in a very annoying way.

You don’t hear the squeal of the door, but you do sense his presence behind you; the rad warm burn of his body as he stops a scant few inches away. You feel his breath against the nape of your neck, the barest brush of his chest as he inhales.

“You ready ta stop bein’ stubborn?” he hums. “I thought I told you not ta wait s’long.”

Your voice warbles from you, “G’way.” You curl into yourself, shoulders hunching as you hang your head. “Don’t need your help.”

The Ghoul snorts. “Cuz you doin’ so well on your own, huh?”

“I resent that.” You shoot him a weak glare, the animosity ruined by the crumble of your lips. “I really, really do.”

You hate always having to rely on him, so desperate to prove that you can take care of yourself only to have every effort to do so thrown back in your face.

Shit, you hate how right Birdie was, “Honey, you won’t last five minutes on your own. Please stay here with us where it’s safe.”

“Well, maybe so. But pickers can’t be choosers, sweetheart,” he shrugs with a languid roll of the shoulders. “Ain’t no use cryin’ over spilled milk. C’mon, the longer you wait, the worse it’s gon be.”

“I just - you don’t understand…”

He reaches around you to set his hat on the sink, the dwindling light of twilight creeping in through the holes in the roof to bathe him in its bloody light.

He looks like a grotesque demon that clawed its way from the depths of hell. It gets your pulse thudding, electric awareness an unwelcome visitor as it roosts behind your navel.

“I understand plenty. Now, let me.”

Not an offer - not really.

More akin to a demand, one wrapped up pretty like a gift. You’ve been here many times before, and while the Ghoul proffers his help under the guise of not wanting to hear your bitching and moaning, the hungry gleam of his eyes as they rake over your face say otherwise.

If it’s one thing you’ve learned in your travels with him, it’s this: he is entirely self-serving. He offers because he wants to suck on a set of pretty tits. If you happen to cream your panties while he does, well, he counts it as a win-win.

Quid pro quo.

And what you hate more than how utterly correct everyone is about life on the surface, is how needy he makes you. How desperate and dumb and dripping he’s got you by the end, drunk off the flick of his tongue and the rasp of his touch.

Because it’s so hard to be strong in the face of pain when the solution is right there; open-palmed.

“...Fine, just don’t - don’t leave marks this time, okay?”

A slow waking smile creaks across his face, and he says, “I ain’t makin’ any promises, sweetheart.”

Your stomach swoops, and your thighs clench.

Shit.

Scarred lips work over tender flesh as a talented tongue flicks and swirls over the bumps of your areola, the tip digging into your nipple and drawing the swollen nub into a hot mouth. You whimper, arms tossed over the Ghoul’s broad shoulders.

Cold ceramic digs into the base of your spine, your body crowded back against the sink as he plasters himself to your front. Cuts off any escape routes and refuses to let you squirm away from the overwhelming sensations as he suckles.

Heavy palms grope at the plush curves of your hips, fingertips digging into the fat.

His lips pop off your nipple with a sticky smack. “Always taste s’fucking good,” he groans against your sternum. “Got the prettiest set a tits in the wasteland.”

“Hnn! N-Not so hard.”

While you say that, you don’t mean it - not really. Your pussy throbs in time with your heartbeat, clit swollen and aching for friction. Your inner thighs are a mess of slick, your vault suit caught around your knees.

He never touches you below the waist directly (some boundaries still exist between you two), but at this point in your pregnancy, you’re so sensitive a gentle breeze could set you off.

“Heh, ain’t you know lyin’s a sin?” he says.

A scarred cheek drags over the swell of your breast, the rasp of rad burn alighting your nerves. Bolts of desire ricochet down your spine, fizzle like Nuka Cola on your tongue. He presses an open mouth kiss to your nipple, his tongue flicking out to massage the tender bud.

At the taste of your skin, his cock twitches where its grinding against your thigh. You feel him through his ragged pinstripe slacks, his shaft a thick line of heat.

It’s probably the hormones (you refuse to admit its anything else) but just the thought of touching him, of sinking down onto his erection - feeling how fucking good he’d stretch you out and fill you up - makes you dizzy.

You pant, your voice distinctly whiny when you say, “Please, d-do something. It still hurts.”

His grin reminds you of the mongrels roaming the wastelands. “Sh,” he hushes you. “I got you, sweetheart.”

The tips of his fingers brush along the side of your swollen stomach. Your heart flips in your chest, your breath catching as he follows the contours of your body, reaching down to brush over the skin of your mound. This is new, he’s never done this before. It’s simultaneously as arousing as it is terrifying.

“Can smell how wet you are for me,” he says, tone low and gruff. “You gonna be a good girl for me, ain’t you?”

“I-”

Then his mouth is slurping at your tit, his teeth biting down on your nipple gently as those strong fingers dip between your thighs. Blunt nails scratch through your pubic hair, a calloused pad swirling circles around your slippery clit. Your hips jump, your head rolling back between your shoulders as a loud moan rips itself from your throat.

You arch back so far your belly presses against the Ghoul’s, your tits smothering his face.

You think, half deliriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have a nose otherwise you might’ve broken it.

“Shit, that’s so - oh, fuck, please, please, please!’

Your legs widen to make room for his hand as yours fly up to grab his biceps, nails biting into the rough leather of his duster.

His tongue flutters across your areola. “C’mon, pretty mama, give it ta me.”

“Oh.” Sparks dance behind your eyes, your knees shaking as the Ghoul strokes over your folds, tests your wetness and the give of your cunt as he plays with your entrance. “Right there,” you gasp. “I’m gonna…”

He grunts, tugging on your nipple with his teeth.

The sharp bite of pain shoots through you, deepens the kindling warmth behind your navel that steadily builds and builds and builds. You feel on the very edge, nerves plucked like the keys of a piano.

So close you can taste it.

Then a tingling starts in the tips of your fingers.

Burns its way up your arms to settle in the weight of your chest, pins and needles pricking across the skin of your tits, lancing through the swollen buds of your nipples.

You tremble, the relief bringing tears to your eyes as tears the heaviness releases in a warm flood, your milk letting down to flow into the Ghoul’s eagerly pulling mouth.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he moans, chasing after the taste by nuzzling into your chest. His cock ruts against you. “Took you’re sweet damn time, didn’t you, darlin’?”

Your head spins, hazy thoughts scattering like confetti.

Endorphins simmer through your veins as you float on a cloud of cotton softness. Reality seems worlds away, your vision blurry as you focus on the points of contact between your bodies. The stretch of his fingers plunging into your pussy to stroke over the front wall.

Mouth slack, your hands creep up the Ghoul’s arms to trace over the sides of his neck, watch the dance of your fingers over his skin. “It feels s’good,” you slur. “Please don’t stop - wanna cum just like this.”

“Heh, wouldn’t dream of it.”

[theresattrpgforthat]

I'm looking for TTRPGs that have... for lack of a better way of putting it, mechanics where like, your character is under a profound amount of stress, and if they don't manage it and additional stress that comes in, they'll break or snap and do something horrible and then have to deal with the consequences. So something that mechanically 'forces' your character to do something they'd normally never do due to external stressors.

THEME: Stress Clocks.

Oh this is my shit. Get ready for a Hall of Fame style of recommendations from me this week (as well as a bit of self-advertising)!

Also a note: this was (mostly) a chance for me to get very excited about a number of games that have specifically inspired me, and I am aware that it means that I’ve kind of neglected certain houses of design as a result. For this post especially, I encourage anyone who can think of a game that fits this request that isn’t listed here to give it a shout out in the reblog and the replies!

Mothership, by Tuesday Knight Games.

Mothership is a sci-fi horror roleplaying game where you and your crew try to survive in the most inhospitable environment in the universe: outer space! You'll excavate dangerous derelict spacecraft, explore strange unknown worlds, exterminate hostile alien life, and examine the horrors that encroach upon your every move.

Mothership inflicts Stress upon you with every failure, and hitting your Stress cap reduces your most relevant Stat or Save, thereby consistency reducing your chances of success with every roll. That’s not all though - your Stress cap also makes it harder and harder to stop your character from panicking, by representing the threshold you must beat every time you make a Panic Check. If you roll less than or equal to your current Stress rating, you must take on a new Panic condition.

You make Panic checks whenever you roll a critical failure, but also whenever you witness something traumatic. These conditions don’t necessarily force your character to do anything, but they represent the toll that being in a constantly hostile environment takes on your mind and body. You have to work harder and harder to prevent your character from attacking allies, giving in to the demands of whatever is haunting their psyche, or going straight-up catatonic.

You can also try to mitigate this stress and panic by resting and doing something that helps relieve the pressure - having sex, taking drugs, praying, etc. There’s even a Shore Leave mechanic for long-term games that allow your character to turn their stress into a character improvement.

In some respect, these conditions remind me of the Morality and Clarity tracks of Chronicles of Darkness and Changeling: the Lost, but with less of the errant language around mental health. The dice rolls also make the consequences much less predictable, so if you want to be surprised by what exactly causes your character to snap, I recommend Mothership.

Urban Shadows, by Magpie Games.

The streets bleed shadows as the supernatural politics of the city threaten to swallow you whole. Will you die a hero—a savior for those who have never had enough—or live long enough to become the villain? Will you fight the darkness…or give in for power?

The choice is yours. 

Urban Shadows is an urban fantasy tabletop roleplaying game in which mortals and monsters vie for control of a modern-day city, a political battleground layered just under the reality we think we know. Vampires, faeries, hunters, and wizards fight to carve out a piece of the streets and skyscrapers, ready to make deals with all those who have something to offer. 

The ‘consequences’ track for Urban Shadows is called Corruption. Each character playbook in this game has a couple of special moves called Corruption Moves, and when you start playing, you start with two Drama Moves the tie into this. The Drama Moves describe specific situations in which your character must mark Corruption. If you fill your Corruption track, you take a Corruption Move. Corruption moves give you special powers that are super-effective, but fill up your Corruption track faster. You can only fill your Corruption track so many times - fill it one too many and your character must be retired, because they’ve just become an antagonist.

I really like how this feels like a slow descent that speeds up the more you lean into it. Your character is consistently tempted to give into their darker sides in order to keep themselves afloat in this unforgiving city - but lean too far and they become exactly the kind of person they were hoping to stop.

Antiquarian Adventures, by acegiak.

Antiquarian Adventures is a pulpy tomb raiding and treasure hunting Blades In The Dark hack in the style of Tomb Raider, Indiana Jones, National Treasure, and The Mummy.

So Antiquarian Adventures is a pulp game. It’s not grim dark in any sense of the word, but I think it introduces a unique use of the Blades’ Stress mechanic in a special “ability” that happens when your character uses up all of their Composure (this is the “Stress” of this gam). Once you’ve used up all of your Composure, you cannot resist anything that comes your way and your dice pools are reduce to 0 until you do something (specific to your playbook) that usually invites a new consequence.

For example, The Veteran’s version of this is called “Not As Quick As I Used To Be,” which hamstrings the character until the player allows themself to be left behind or separated from their comrades. This kind of mechanic has directly inspired one of the projects that I’m working on, and I think that if you tweak the amount of Composure your character has, or makes the reaction harsher, you could absolutely make it work for a game that’s a bit grittier than Antiquarian Adventures.

Last Fleet, by Black Armada Games

The last of humanity are fleeing across space, pursued by the implacable inhuman adversary that destroyed their civilisation. They're outnumbered and outgunned. Supplies are running low. The actions of a brave few could be all that stands between humanity and extinction.

Welcome to the Last Fleet.

Last Fleet is a PBTA tabletop roleplaying game where you play brave pilots, officers, engineers, politicians and journalists struggling to hold the human race - and themselves - together under unbelievable pressure. The game focuses on action, intrigue and drama in this high-stakes situation. You'll fight space battles, search for enemy infiltrators, tackle supply shortages and navigate faction politics. You'll strive against your own self-doubt and sometimes crack under the stress.

Last Fleet has something called a Pressure Mechanic, which can be used as a player resource, but also activates when you take weather harm or get called out on your shit. Hit your cap? Clear your Pressure and take a Breaking Point action, which often puts you at odds with the other characters, making the situation worse. The whole situation is a designed to act as a pressure cooker, making the situation harder and harder to bear until you finally pop. I love it, and it’s also a direct influence on one of my games.

Apocalypse Keys, by Rae Nedjadi (@temporalhiccup)

Unmask your feelings, uncage your ruination… The Doomsday Clock is ticking down and emotions run high as you and your team of DIVISION agents struggle to find the Keys before the villainous Harbingers unlock the Doors of Power and bring about the apocalypse.

As an Omen class monster, you are the only thing capable of holding back the apocalypse. Combat occult threats and investigate supernatural phenomena alongside your team of supernatural agents working for the shadowy DIVISION. But in a world that shuns monsters like you, only your deepest, most heartfelt bonds can grant you the power to stop those who seek to unlock Doom’s Door.

Taking cues from Urban Shadows, Apocalypse Keys gives you a Ruin track to follow as your monsters try to stop the world from ending. The Ruin track gives you a Ruin advance every time you fill it, unlocking Ruin Moves, permanently marking character conditions, and eventually forcing your character to turn into a Harbinger if you let it. Your Ruin moves are powerful and dark, generating even more Ruin when you use them, and in some cases (like with the Hungry’s "Only Hunger Remains" move), your character can actually halt the current mystery as they get close enough to becoming a Harbinger that the entire party will have to work together to stop you from ripping the world apart.

Protect the Child, by Mint-Rabbit (that’s me!).

Humans have always been protective of their young, sometimes overly so. Humans have also always feared that which might make their young strange or different, and so insist that only humans can raise their own young. Monsters cannot raise human young. This is known.

You have a human baby. You cannot find its parents. What is even worse, is that this child has powers, powers that others covet, and so everyone wants it. If you want to prove that you’re not the heartless monster that everyone says you are, that means you’ll have to raise it, at least until you find someone who is better suited to it than you. 

You are creatures of fur, scales and fangs. You have claws that can rend flesh, faces that can crack mirrors, howls that can cause ears to bleed. 

And your charge wants a blankie.

Protect the Child is a Forged in the Dark game about monsters caring for a young human, a human who contains strange and mystical powers that make them a valuable asset in any monster crew. The setting and factions present in this game are flexible: you might be aliens in a far-flung future galaxy, fantasy monsters from rival kingdoms, or even everyday wild animals that fear human society. 

Alright, so this is my baby and I can tell you exactly how to push your character towards some really unhealthy coping mechanisms. In Protect the Child, your character is constantly battling the stress of being a parent. Stress, like in other Forged in the Dark games, is a player resource, but it’s also inflicted on you when you resist consequences, and when the kid has an emotional breakdown.

Should your stress clock fill up, you’ll have to take a reaction from the list attached to your playbook before you can take more Stress, and these reactions range from doing something for selfish gains to lashing out to your fellow monsters to being fully monstrous at exactly the worst time. Your tools to manage this stress are also limited - you have to be willing to confront your fellow monsters and be honest about your relationships with each-other if you want to stop your emotional kettle from whistling all of the time. If you want a game where building relationships is the only way to deal with the pressures of monster-parenting, then check out Protect the Child!

[bambi-slxt]

vampire!triplets:

✨a concept✨

crack/smut lmao

nick is Not A Fan™ of his new life.

"the fact that i have to drink- to consume another being's blood, just to survive, is fucking ridiculous."

but when the urges overtake him he goes fucking feral.

matt doesn't feel very strongly about it. his need for blood is an annoyance, sure, but he knows there are options.

matt begins to frequent an affluent BDSM dungeon, where people have a heightened understanding of consent (which he always asks for) and are more likely to enjoy pain, thus making his meals much easier and actually enjoyable for all parties involved.

"it just makes the most sense, it's literally the obvious solution."

he always was the smartest of the brothers.

chris is. something else. he wants to feed all the time.

chris's first meal was a girl he pulled into the bathroom, kissing her lips and cheek like a man starved, slipping his hand up her skirt while she wrapped her legs around him.

he bit down on her neck and plunged his fingers into her pussy at the same time.

"listen," he said, trying and failing to wipe away his blood-stained smirk with the back of his hand, "it's not the worst thing in the world."

nick has many conflicting things to say about his new condition.

car video, filmed at 2:21 am on a friday: "i mean i don't go out in the sunlight enough to really be bothered by that, so who gives a fuck?"

kickback at Tara's, exactly 10 hours later: "if i have to put another squirt of sunscreen on my skin, i'm dropping a motherfucker from the rooftops."

"squirt was crazy."

matt forms friendships with some of his more willing victims partners and a surprisingly close bond occurs between him and one of his edgier girls.

"do you like how i make you feel?" he purred, swiping a droplet of blood from her neck and letting her suck his finger, cradling her head against his chest. "that's how you taste. you taste like life."

chris discovered his body could withstand much more pain and ran with it - literally.

"I CALL THIS ONE THE FLYING PTERODACTYL-"

"i didn't think the motherfucker would drop himself from the rooftops."

request to be on the taglist here

tags: @pinksturniolo @malirosee  @st7rnioioss  @nonat-111  @cindylcuwho  @evie-sturns

[samwisethewitch]

How I Get the Most Out of Meat When Cooking

As someone who 1.) was 100% vegetarian for ethical/religious reasons until very recently, and 2.) recently had to reintroduce meat for vitamin deficiency reasons, limiting waste as much as possible when I cook with meat is really important to me. For one thing, I feel like I owe it to the animal that died to get as much use as possible out of its body as a way of honoring its death. For another, meat is expensive (ethically raised meat even more so) and I want to get my money's worth.

I recently bought a bunch of lamb for my family's holiday dinner, so I wanted to share my attempt to practice the Honorable Harvest in my meat consumption. This is new to me, but I wanted to document the attempt because it's been a fun learning process for me! If you want to actually learn about honorable consumption I encourage you to read the works of Robin Wall Kimmerer and other indigenous ecologists, since the Honorable Harvest is based on indigenous North American practices. (Though there are other cultural practices all over the world.)

Step One: Sourcing the Meat

I am very fortunate to have enough disposable income to buy ethically raised meat, which tends to be more expensive. This is a privilege. Other people are not able to spend this extra money on their meat, and that doesn't make me better than them. Feeding yourself is morally neutral, and a tight budget is not a moral failing. Most meat alternative products (Beyond Beef, Impossible, etc.) are also pretty expensive. If the factory-farmed meat at the supermarket is the only thing in your budget, use that.

If you DO have some extra funds, local farms are a great place to source meat. The reason we had lamb for the holidays is because a local farm recently culled their herd and had lamb on sale. In the past we've gotten beef from a relative who raises cattle. I encourage you to learn about farms in your area and what they have to offer. CSAs and farmers' markets are great places to start. You can also ask around at local restaurants about where they source their ingredients.

When I say "ethically raised meat," what I'm really talking about is pasture-raised animals. Cage-free animals may not live in cages, but they can still be kept in cramped, dirty, inhumane conditions and be sold as "cage free." Pasture-raised animals are able to graze and forage and generally wander around within a paddock. For some animals like chickens you can also look for "free range," which means the animals are unfenced and are able to wander freely. Since I don't cook meat often, I try to get free range or pasture-raised meat when I do buy it.

In some areas, you may also be able to find certified ethically slaughtered meat, which means the slaughtering process has been designed to cause as little suffering to the animal as possible. That kind of certification isn't really available where I live, but it might be for you!

And of course, hunting or fishing yourself is also an option. If you kill the animal yourself, you know exactly how it died and can take steps to limit suffering as much as possible. Hunting isn't a skillset I have, but if you do more power to you!

Step Two: Cooking the Meat

This is the easy part. Depending on the cut of meat you got and the dish you are cooking, you may need to remove bones or trim fat, but aside from that it's just following a recipe.

For our holiday lamb stew, I used this recipe. I have Celiac disease, so I subbed gluten-free flour and replaced the beer with red wine. I also added rosemary and garlic for a more Mediterranean flavor to compliment the wine.

Step Three: Organs and Bones

This is where the breakdown is for a lot of Americans. We don't cook with bones or organs very often, and we tend to throw away whatever parts of the animal we don't want. That is not honorable consumption. Part of the Honorable Harvest is using every part of the being that died to feed you.

Most organs make great stew meat. My favorite Nicaraguan beef stew is made with tongue, and my indigenous Hawaiian relatives make stew with pig feet. And while I don't like them, lots of my Southern family members love chitlins (pickled pig intestines). Lots of cultures eat organs, and you'll find plenty of delicious recipes if you look!

Bones are typically used to make stock, which can be used as a base for future soups and stews. There are lots of recipes for DIY stocks and broths, but I usually fry some onions and/or garlic, deglaze with wine, and then add the meat/bones and the water, plus salt, pepper, and herbs for flavor. Most animal bones can produce two batches of stock before they lose flavor. (For really flavorful stock, leave some meat on the bones.)

Once the stock is done, you'll still have bones to deal with. Contrary to popular belief, cooked bones are not safe for dogs to chew on. (But raw bones usually are!) Instead, I strip any remaining meat and gristle from the stock bones, give those scraps to my pups as a treat, and then use the stripped bones for something else. With a little extra processing, the bones can be used as a fertilizer in a garden, a calcium supplement for chickens, or a safe treat for dogs and/or cats.

This was my first time processing bones, but after boiling them for, like, 12 hours in water with salt and vinegar, they were soft enough to break apart with my hands. I'm going to grind them to make bone meal.

[rosewalkersjayaforever]

⚡The Lightning Choice⚡

(Sorry if my English is bad. I am Russian myself, and so I used a translator. Unid and Mina Allison helped me, thanks to them for that. If you liked it, put the like button, it will be very pleasant for me and them)

AU, where Jay merges with his element / lightning instead of Nya in season 14. Possible ❗❗spoilers⚠️

Nya fought with Kalmaar and Wojira, but was defeated, the water master was struck by the Merlopian trident, which caused her to lose consciousness and fly into the water. Jay was the only one who saw what happened to the brunette, the lightning master jumps after her, hopes that he will save her, hopes that she is still alive.

The ninja pulls her out of the water on her hands, climbing higher on the roof, the brown-haired man began to check her pulse:

— No... Nya... please... don't leave me again!.. — almost crying, the lightning master pleaded, the rest of the team, noticing the loss of friends, begin to search, but when they find them, their gaze falls on Nya lying on the roof and Jay mourning her.

— Jay, what happened?! — Kai slowly approaches them, his heartbeat accelerates, his breathing slows down, it becomes harder and harder to speak, fear comes to the fore. — Jay, don't be silent! Please! — Kai wants to hear joyful words, which makes him shake his friend by the shoulders.

— Nya... — with a heavy pain in his heart, Jay begins to speak. — She fought Kalmaar, but lost to him… She was hit by a trident..." — speech slowed down, Jay could not speak calmly.

— Well, don't be silent! Tell me what's wrong with her! — The fire ninja shook him by the shoulders again.

— Nya fell into the water! Jay shouted at him. — I rushed after her and pulled her out... — the voice became quieter.

— Take her inside! Hurry up! Hide the transport! — Wu ordered, running up to the team, without hesitating for a second, the teacher took control of the whole situation. Everyone nodded in agreement, Jay took his Yang in his arms and carefully carried her inside, accompanied by the master, Pixal and Bentho.

— Nya! You can't hide from me! This world doesn't belong to you anymore! He's mine! — Kalmaar shouted from Wojira, tracking them down.

— «How he pisses me off» — Jay's gaze fell on Nya lying on the couch, Benthomaar was looking out the window nearby, the master and Pixal were discussing something aside, only briefly Jay heard his and Nya's name.

***

— How is she? — The fire master asked, approaching Zane.

The nindroid was running diagnostics.

— The condition is serious, but she is stable, now she is unconscious, it is possible that she will wake up soon. — the ice master replied.

That bastard almost killed my sister! He's going to pay for this! — a fire was lit in his hands — I'll kill him myself! — Smith said.

— Hush, Kai, don't get excited, we'll figure out how to deal with Kalmaar, but first we need to help Nya. — Lloyd tried to reason sensibly until Kai lay down next to her.

Looking out the window, Jay saw Benthomaar standing on guard, releasing the girl's hand, he approached him.

— Benthomaar, how did Nyad defeat Wojira? Do you remember what you told us? The brown — haired man asked, which distracted the Prince of Merlopia for a second.

— She sacrificed her body and merged with the sea — the Merlopian replied, sighing heavily, he was not looking at the sea or even Jay, who did not ask a question, his gaze was directed at Nya.

— Merged? But how exactly? — The blue ninja continued to ask with insistence.

— She absorbed all the power of the ocean, she became a part of it, and he became hers! — the brunette also replied coldly, already looking at him. Jay thought about it, Benthomaar quickly figured it out. — Don't even think about it! Although Nyad defeated Wojira, she eventually died… It was a one-way ticket… She disappeared… Forever! — The Merlopian threatened the lightning master, but Jay didn't take it as a threat, it was a challenge.

— «Nyad could not cope with the power of the received force, but I will cope, I will do everything for Nya, for the sake of our future with her!» — Jay no longer listened to Bento, his thoughts were occupied only with a plan that will bring peace to everyone. — «None of my friends are going to die today, only Wojira is going to die!»

— Benthomaar! Zane is calling you — Cole has disrupted their completed dialogue. Nodding, the Merlopian left the boys alone. Seeing the displeased look from his friends, Jay stepped back a little.

— Uh..Is something wrong, guys?.. — The lightning ninja asked them, smiling stupidly, occasionally a chuckle slipped through.

— Jay, we heard about your conversation with Benthomaar... — the second brown-haired man replied.

— And we won't let you do that! — The lightning master's face changed at the same moment. — Don't even think about it! — The brunette continued. Jay became serious.

— You can't stop me from doing that! Perhaps this is the only way to help her! — the winner of the «Prime Empire» rebelled.

— Jay — was just about to start Lloyd.

— What's Jay?! — The lightning ninja was no longer panicking, he was taking out all the pain on his friends.

— Zane said that Nya is stable, she will wake up soon — the blond man slowly approached him.

— Yeah? — Walker said without emotion. — I was there too, if you haven't forgotten, I also heard these predictions ... — the ninja took a pause, gathering his thoughts. — And you know what? These may be her last breaths, I already tried to start her heart, I tried to revive her before you came — the team started listening even more attentively from that moment on. — But I couldn't! She didn't take a single breath, nor did she open her eyes! Nothing happened! Do you understand, Lloyd? She needs to go to the hospital, but they are all flooded, and the only way to revive her without a doctor is to defeat Wojira and Kalmaar! — Jay pointed to the sea outside the window.

— Jay, but this is not the only way! — The master of energy did not believe in these words himself, and Jay only looked at him sadly, nodding.

— You heard what Benthomaar said, didn't you? When Nyad merged with the sea and defeated Wojira, she died! If you do the same, you could die too, Jay! Do you understand that?! — almost shouting ninja fire supported the leader.

— What would you suggest? Do nothing?! And wait for Kalmaar and Wojira to notice us and destroy us?! —Freckles asked.

— Of course not! But maybe there is still another way to defeat them? — The earth ninja asked anxiously.

— I'm listening to your suggestions — Jay said calmly.

— Vania — it dawned on Cole. — She said if we ever needed help, she'd call the whole army to our rescue, and — Zane interrupted him.

— We can't contact Shintaro, not with our situation — the ice ninja looked at his friends with sympathy, Cole just sighed heavily.

— Maybe.. — Lloyd wanted to suggest another option, but was interrupted by Jay.

— Lloyd, admit it... we're powerless here, the only way out is for someone to sacrifice themselves for all of us... — Jay looked around at everyone present. — For the Nya ... — the last words sounded in a barely audible voice that not many people caught. — Nya would have done the same if anyone else had been in her place, each of us can do it — Jay approached Wu. — Master Wu, you taught us to protect Ninjago, to protect those we love — the gaze fell on Zane, who drooped, remembering his self-sacrifice during the time of the Golden Master. — Who we value — my gaze fell on Nya and Kai, who also became sad, remembering how he rescued her from the captivity of skeletons, and then saved Lloyd from a volcano. — You prepared us for this, taught us to look fear in the eye, overcome barriers, be ready for anything — The Master drooped.

— I hoped that this would never happen ... never ... — the master hesitated, lowering his head, realizing that Jay was right a thousand times.

— I understand you, Jay. You're worried about her, just like me, because she's my sister... — Kai stopped, the words touched him to the core. — Maybe you're right, but please don't do this! And in this form, you're not going anywhere, you're tired, it's not you who's talking, but fatigue, why don't you rest? — Kai suggested, hoping to postpone this dialogue at least until tomorrow, to come up with arguments in opposition to this. — After all, tomorrow we will have a hard day — the elder Smith sighed. He nodded in agreement, exchanged glances, Kai and Cole smiled and left, leaving Jay alone.

— «We may not live to see this tomorrow, Kai, it needs to be done today» — Jay replied to himself, clenching his hand into a fist, looking after them. — «Everything will be decided today, and tomorrow we will celebrate another victory and rebuild the city» — his intentions were as unshakeable as his zeal for victory. — «I'll be back, Nya, wait for me» — the ninja headed in a direction known only to him.

The brown-haired man sneaks onto the roof while his friends are considering a plan without self-sacrifice.

— «I hope they won't bother me, forgive me for that» — Jay mentally said goodbye to his friends, jumping into his Sub car, the lightning master turned on full speed and sped off into the depths, leaving friends was a difficult but right decision, but not harder than what awaits him after.

Floating near the city center, Jay climbs a multi-storey building and looks around the city.

Everything was covered with water, but Kalmaar's voice could not be heard, and Wojira herself was nowhere to be found.

— «It's too late to retreat, too much is at stake» — emotions and excitement overwhelmed the lightning master, his heart was fluttering faster and faster, there was a desire to retreat inside, and in his eyes there was a determination to end this once and for all. Gathering his thoughts, Jay began to put his plan into action — Kalmaar! Wojira! I'm here! — the blue ninja shouted with all his might, and at the same moment a bright blue lightning flashed in the sky, followed by another flash, after which Jay took out his nunchucks and prepared for battle. — «Did they really not notice me?!» — panic appeared in his eyes. — «What if he's already found Nya and the others and they're in danger now, what if I'm late and Lloyd and the team are in trouble now, and I'm on the other side of Ninjago City?!» — eyes darted from side to side, looking for answers, Jay listened to every rustle around.

Suddenly, a glow appeared from under the water, and Jay froze in place. There was a splash in the water, after which a huge sea serpent climbed out of the water, towering over the ninja — it was she, the queen of the Endless Sea — Wojira, two amulets were on her forehead: Waves and Storms, and near one of the amulets stood the Self—proclaimed King of Merlopia - Kalmaar.

Jay's face changed in an instant, fear faded into the background, his hands involuntarily tightened on the weapon, the ninja got into a fighting position.

— Where is that stupid girl?! — Kalmaar was angry, looking around to see if this was a trap, although what kind of girl could we be talking about when you control the most powerful being alive in this world.

— Nya is not here, I will be your opponent instead! — Jay declared, taking a step forward.

— You?! — Kalmaar chuckled.— You are a nobody, a weakling, a pathetic and worthless hero who is looking for his death. — What can you do against me? — The King of Merlopia laughed.

— What can I do? — Jay began to play along, pointedly thinking about his question. — I challenge you to a fight! One on one! — The lightning ninja spoke loudly and clearly in a confident tone, Kalmaar was very surprised and laughed.

— You?! Are you calling me?! Who are you to fight the king?! You're nothing, just a land dweller, and I'm the ruler of all Ninjago! — King Kalmaar laughed. — Wojira, destroy the insolent man! — The King's trident was pointed at Jay.

— Do not rush to conclusions, Kalmaar — Walker decided to dare to say goodbye. — Yes, I am a resident of the land, I am an ordinary guy from a landfill, but that's not all. — Jay put on a mask. — I'm a ninja! I'm a lightning master! — Jay braced himself for the impact.

The sky darkened, it began to rain, thunderclaps sounded and lightning broke out among them, striking the brown-haired man, the first blow was the most powerful, it was he who served as the impetus for the counterattack.

At the moment of lightning hitting him, Jay felt it in every limb, in every place in his body, he did not fall, he stood up, the force that hit him began a metamorphosis:

Jay's body sparkled like lightning on the body of an electric eel, his eyes changed color to blue. His whole body began to transform, his skin turned purple, Jay rose into the sky, and Kalmaar rejoiced, seeing only some sparks of lightning, but when the smoke from the lightning strike dissipated, the sparkling lightning ninja appears before the villain.

— WHAT?! — Kalmaar's face was stricken with surprise, but soon changed to the usual displeasure.

— Did you want the lightning? So get it! — Jay concentrated a fireball in front of him and released it directly into the creature's face, the flash blinded Kalmaar for a short period of time, while Kalmaar was unaware, the ninja took advantage of this and rose into the sky, releasing a new discharge, but at Kalmaar himself. The King could barely resist.

The blow with the trident forced the beast to obey again, Wojira used her breath and a powerful wave was released at Jay, the ninja moved to the creature's forehead.

— Do you think that merging with the force will give you an advantage?! I'm driving a Wojira! The most powerful beast in the world! — The King was rising again.

— Then I'll take it away from you — Kalmaar fired several shots at Jay, but he didn't even try to dodge them, the elements simply dispelled the physical attack. — You wanted to know what a simple inhabitant of the land can do? — Jay came up close to the king. — We can do a lot, and now I'm not fighting on my own behalf, now I'm going to defeat you on behalf of all the inhabitants of the surface, and bring back dry land and peace to the world! — Jay released the force, the Merlopian tried to block the attack with his father's trident, but he could not withstand the onslaught and was broken in two. Wojira immediately freed herself from Kalmaar's control and rebelled against him, once the former king became a snack for her, Jay was more lucky, he managed to teleport from there with the help of the elements, Wojira, having lost control, began to rampage that even all the Merlopians fled to the sides, high-rise buildings that were not absorbed by water, the sea serpent simply destroyed them and their fragments fell into the water.

The ninja flew to a safe distance and saw what his decision to avenge Nya had led to.

— «My actions only made it worse, it seems that to stop all this, you need to destroy the amulets on her forehead, the only way to stop her, the only way to save Ninjago» — Jay fired several powerful lightning bolts into her neck, attracting the creature's attention to himself. — Wojira! I'm here! — The next blow was right in her face, but her breath swallowed him up, just a little more and he would have reached him, water and lightning are incompatible, especially if they are two pure forces.

Jay dodged her attacks and released his own, the sea snake did what it dodged or attacked from under the water, where Walker could not descend or approach.

At the main moment, the lightning master is transferred to her forehead and inhabits the amulet of the Storm, destroying it, because of this, Wojira roared and leaned out of the water at full height, lightning flashed, and she disappeared, and the Boundless waters began to leave the lands of Ninjago, returning to their former borders, the team that already I have been watching this for a long time, fighting with the Merlopians, covering their friend's back, after defeating Wojira, they climbed onto the roof, where Jay was already hanging in his elemental form.

The elemental ninja turns to his friends and looks at Nya lying in Kai's arms, Jay flies up to her and touches her chest, a light current passes through her body, after which Nya opens her eyes and begins to breathe, clearing her throat, greedily gulping air.

— Nya! — A joyful Kai hugged his sister.

— Well done, Jay! You did it! — the earth ninja wanted to hug his friend, but the lightning strike did not give, the earth master quickly moved away.

— Jay, you can be yourself again now — Master Wu said politely.

— Jay?! — The ninja didn't understand. — Who is this guy?! — the question baffled the ninja.

— That's your name — Cole said hesitantly.

Wu looked at him sadly.

— Do you recognize us? — the question is pretty stupid for the team, but the answer was the most unusual.

— I do not know you, but I know that you are good ... — the ninja said slowly.

— What does this mean?! Jay, stop fooling around! — friends did not understand what Wu had already realized.

— Jay — Nya called him softly, leaning on Kai, she came up to him.

— I'm glad you're alive — Jay said, and in a moment looked up at the sky, where lightning was flashing.

— Do you hear that? — Jay asked them, looking at the lightning.

— What are you talking about, Jay? — the brunette did not understand what her Ying meant.

— The Lightning… It's so fast… Such a formidable...— the lightning master answers her, mesmerized.

— It's calling him. — The Prince of Merlopia replied sadly.

— I have to go — Jay suddenly said, walking somewhere.

— Wait, buddy. Let it be you — Cole wanted to put his hand on his best friend's shoulder, but she passed through him like a ghost, electrocuting him. From this, the black ninja gasped, looking at his hand, like everyone else.

— Jay, wait! Where are you going?! Jay! You have to come to your senses, you have to come back to us! — standing in front of Walker, the ninja of the water said, but her beloved did not seem to listen to her and also went through. The girl hissed in pain, turning around, she saw that Jay was already at the edge of the roof.

— Jay, I don't understand what's going on, but I only know one thing: We will find a way and we will definitely bring you back to normal, just please don't leave — the fire ninja said proudly.

— My time in this world is running out, maybe one day we will meet again. — The elemental ninja said with a smile.

— What does it mean in this world?! — Kai approached his friend.

— Jay, Ninjago is your home, our home — Lloyd also joined the conversation.

— Your home, but not mine, flaws are calling me, I have to go, it's hard enough to be in this shell, goodbye! — a flash flashed in front of friends.

— I’m sorry, my friends, but it’s useless... If a person merges with his element together, over time he begins to lose himself: Who is he, does he have friends, family, acquaintances — all this, he will seemingly forget this never happened and is unlikely to ever remember it — Benthomaar spoke with pain in his voice and soul

Realizing this, Nya was speechless, tears involuntarily ran down the girl’s face, falling to the ground.

— Jay, I beg you, so that you don’t hear, so that you don’t experience. Fight it, Jay. Remember who you are, remember this always! — the master’s last instruction was hope for their friend’s return to life. Wu sincerely wished and hoped that Jay would overcome himself and stay, but unfortunately for him, this did not happen.

— I am Jay. I am The Lightning. We are one — turning to his master and friends, the guy says, smiling.

— Jay... I... I love you...— the brunette said sadly, deep down she hoped that he would wake up, remember why he did it, remember everything, in response to this Jay only smiled sweetly at her.

— Farewell, heroes — these were the last words of the savior, the ninja froze, at that very second each of them wanted to take off and rush and stop by force, but the body seemed to refuse them this, they could only watch him rise into the sky , and then disappeared, with the last lightning appearing in the sky before the clouds completely dissolved.

— JAY! NO!!! COME BACK!!! — Nya exclaimed, jumping up and running to the edge of the roof, but it was too late, Jay flew away, and the clouds became ordinary white clouds, as before.

Everyone looked at the sky where Jay was, even after he was gone, no one began to move or say anything, everything was clear without words.

***

— Today we honor the memory of Ninja Jay, who saved our city by sacrificing himself. — Master Wu, like the whole team, stood at the porch of the monastery, where residents from all over Ninjago, all their friends and acquaintances, all fans of ninja and Jay, gathered. — This day will be a day of mourning. — Wu finished his long and sad speech. — And now I give my word to Nya — the water master came forward.

— Jay… He... — It was difficult to start talking, especially about someone who was no longer there, all the residents were looking at her right now, but it was not this that worried her more, but the fact that his parents were among them and not somewhere, but in the very first row, closest of all, Ed — Jay's adoptive father, comforted his adoptive mother, Edna, who cried so bitterly over the loss of their son, they, like Nya, know the truth that Jay is not their own son, but the pain of his loss only increases. — Jay was a joker, it was his thing, he tried to look for nothing, but to put it in everything and everywhere, he could cheer everyone up, and even if sometimes his jokes could offend, but everything he did, including his act today, he wished for you, for us, I had never met such a thing before like Jay, he always helped and supported anyone who needed help, he was not just our friend, not just a ninja, he was something big for everyone here, and I would like to tell you all that despite the fact that he is no longer there, we will continue that what he gave his life for, we will continue to fight for Jay, for everyone who needs help, and let every resident of Ninjago sleep peacefully today! — Nya finished her speech with difficulty, returning to the others.

During her performance, she endured, endured the pain that was inside, held back tears and pain, pain turning into a tsunami that covered her head.

Upon completion, Nya returned to the monastery, and stood near the frame with their joint picture with Jay, only after making sure that she was alone, she let all the pain out, falling to her knees, allowing emotions to take over. Maya and Ray came to her.

— Nya, are you okay?.. — Maya carefully approached her daughter, and when she heard her mother's voice, she quickly removed her tears, getting up from her knees.

— Oh, hi, Mom, I'm just dusting, I think I got dust in my eyes...— the water ninja replied with a smile.

— It's all right. — The elder Smith said, putting her hand on her daughter's shoulder.

— I didn't even have time to say goodbye to him... — Nya tried to hold back her tears.

— Nya, I'm sure Jay will remember you and the others. You and Kai and your friends will save him and you will be together again — the elder Smith tried to comfort.

— I hope so, Mom.… I hope Jay comes back.… I hope that we will definitely bring him back to normal. — Maya's daughter could hardly hold back her tears, trying not to cry again, but her mother silently hugged her, and the water master did not respond with a hug from her mother, but she was not going to push her away.

— It's the time. Are you coming, Nya? — the father asked, Nya only nodded, Ray understood how much she was in pain, they felt the same pain when Krux threatened them with violence against their children.

When the Smiths went outside, the girl looked up at the sky, it was already dark, there was no moon or stars in the sky, just blackness, candles were lit all over the training hall, it was very quiet, as if the monastery was empty or extinct. Each of the residents, the ninja, and Jay's parents had lanterns in their hands.

Ray gave the lanterns to his daughter and wife, and he lit them for each of those present, Kai also took part in this.

And when the last lantern was lit, it was clear the number of those who went out to say goodbye to the hero who fell in battle, only now did Nya realize that the whole of Ninjago City went out into the street with only one single purpose — to say goodbye to the one who gave them peace and hope for a happy and peaceful future. Very soon, all the lanterns one by one were released into the sky, someone was letting out of the windows, someone from the top of the roofs, even the lantern from the Borg building was visible in the sky, this sad and dark night was covered with bright light in an instant, Nya looked at her lantern for a long time, she was the only one who still he did not launch it into the sky, but soon she decided and let it out of her hands, looking at him with a sad sight. Kai was by her side all this time, there was no one closer to him, seeing Nya's condition, with sadness on his face and pain in his heart, he looked at her ... The Fire Ninja hugged his sister.

It was so warm... The brunette remembered how her brother supported her if she couldn't cope and Jay... Remembering her beloved, Nya cried again and cried into her older brother's shoulder, the fire master calmed his sister, sharing her heartache, stroking her back and whispering in her ear that this was not the end yet and they will definitely save him, find a solution, find a way, sooner or later it will happen, and when Jay remembers them and returns, he will start joking and telling different history again, even if sometimes they are not always so funny. Soon, the water master calmed down, she was grateful to Kai and everyone who went outside to support her lover and honor his memory:

— Thank you for being with me this day, thank you to everyone who is next to me now — the brunette whispered, Kai only smiled in response, hugging her again, and Nya only snuggled closer into him.

Kai and Nya's parents looked at their children with a smile, their friends came to the Smiths, everyone looked up at the sky with a smile, illuminated by lanterns, watching as they moved further and further away, flew higher and higher, imperceptibly disappearing one after another.

They will definitely bring their friend back, they hope that they will find a way to return him to his former shape, they hope that Jay will return to them soon... But until that happens, the team had to go through personal problems, as they did before, on the day of Zane's death.

[azrielwingspan]

LET IT BURN (Mob!Bucky x f!reader)

PART- 1

Summary: You were a woman in a mans world and you wanted to be on top. Unfortunately, the man on top is hell bent on keeping his position and you. When two highly ambitious people meet, the world tends to burn.

Warnings : None....for now.

A/N: Hello hello hellooooo. This is my first Bucky fic and I really hope you guys enjoy this. Didn't mean for it to be a multi part fic but it seems things are going in that direction. Let me know if you like it!

"Remind me again Edith. Why exactly am I supposed to watch my mouth around this buffoon?"

"His name is Bucky, Y/N. Please. He has the East in his grip. We need a way in. Connect the dots." Edith pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger trying her best not to strangle you.

You held in a giggle at her exasperated state and tried to put forward your best behaviour.

Kind of.

A little.

A very minute amount.

Ugh, who were you kidding? You were definitely not looking forward to this meeting. The issue wasn't the matter to be discussed. The issue was that you had to pretend to be someone else to satisfy 'Bucky's' ego.

"Alright. Alright. I promise I'll be on my best behavior." Running your hands over your black halter neck full length gown, you admired yourself in the mirror. If you could whistle, you would have.

"Just make sure your best behavior isn't the worst he's faced."

Tsk. Good point. You reapplied your red lipstick and wiped away an excess smudge with the tip of your nail.

"Let's go." you walked away from Edith, your PA, making sure to revise the plans in your head. There would be nothing more embarrassing than to forget the specifics of the deal you were going to cut. A woman in a mans world was a tough place to be. You had to be ten times smarter, bolder and sharper than the men. Even then, success wasn't guaranteed.

The doors to the meeting room were open revealing to you the man whose world you wanted to conquer.

You weren't blind. The man standing in front of you was the definition of attractive. It wasn't just the face either. It was the confidence and arrogance oozing out of him that made you run your eyes over his form. At least he would be easy on the eyes.

"Miss Y/N. Pleasure." Bucky held out his hand staring at you expectantly. A pleasant smile played along his face, softening the sharp angles.

Calloused. A man who likes to get his hands dirty. You thought to yourself as you shook his hand and reflected the smile being shot your way.

"Mr. Buf--Bucky." Shit. "I trust the end to this meeting will be as pleasant as the start."

"Hopefully, even better." he said , a hint of suggestion lacing his tone.

You almost scoffed at the suggestion and snatched your hand away making your way to the chair.

"This will take but two minutes, Y/N."

You stopped abruptly before the chair, watching Bucky in the mirror on the wall across. He stalked forwards, placing one hand in his pocket, the other tracing the table adjacent to him. Your eyes caught onto the movement of his fingers and the deliberate slowness with which he traced the edge of the table. His gaze however, was locked onto your reflection in the mirror.

He was keeping track you realized. He wanted to notice every flicker of emotion, every twitch of your body and every catch of your breath as he spoke to you.

A man who liked being in absolute control.

"So you've made up your mind before hearing my proposal then?" you asked meeting his gaze in the mirror.

He stopped a few feet away tilting his head and letting a taunting smile grace his face. It almost seemed predatory. Almost.

"I did not make my way to the top by not knowing the intentions of others Y/N. I make it a point to know everything."

"And..?"

Rapping a knuckle against the table, he continued his saunter towards you, this time stopping a few inches from your back. "I have one condition. Just one. Agree to it and you have unrestricted access to my ports and my men."

A shiver ran up your spine and alarm bells went off in your head. This was bad. Something was very very wrong.

Maintaining your calm facade, you asked "What is this condition?"

Bucky leaned closer , his face adjacent to yours. Your gazes clashed in the mirror, his blue eyes honing in on yours with a predatory glint. Neither of you looked away as he bought his lips to your ear and whispered softly "I want the key to your empire."

Well, shit.

[maxpawb]

[Information regarding the visual stylization and anthropomorphization in my OC world/story in development 'circusworld']

The "animals" in circusworld are all people. They are drawn as anthropomorphic animals for stylistic and symbolic purposes. Any species may exist, but I tend to prefer to draw my favorite animals or the animals which are most symbolically important to me. So while birds, reptiles, fish, and insects exist in their world, you are more likely to see lions and zebras as the main characters. They should all be drawn with human bodies and limbs, including plantigrade legs/feet, with the exception of ungulates which may be given ungulate feet. Insect species may have wings on their backs. Bird and bat species may have wings either on their backs or as extensions of their fingers. Their hands are humanlike with the exception of paw pads and claws for mammals, and the aforementioned avian species. Their heads should have humanlike foreheads, brow ridges/eyebrows, and eyes, but they may have animalistic noses and mouths. They have hair on their heads. They have animal ears and tails. For all intents and purposes, they are "humans," but artistically, they are "animals" who are undoubtedly people.

They may have flat chests or defined chests, including through transitional surgery. Nipples are not drawn. Lower genitalia is not drawn. Both of these features technically do exist in their world for reproductive/child raising purposes, but it is not the focus of the story and is not necessary to illustrate them. They may have body hair in addition to the fur/feathers/skin/scales on their bodies. They do not necessarily feel the need to wear clothes. Many of them do, for various reasons. Clothes may be physically necessary for warmth, protection, or as a uniform. Some clothes are worn simply for fun or fashion. Many circus characters enjoy clothing as costume.

Feral animals exist in their universe and appear and behave exactly as they do in our universe. They cannot talk, and they are kept as pets and used as livestock. It is not seen as weird for an animal person to own a feral animal pet, because animal people are entirely separate beings from feral animals.

Essentially, animal people are just people. Thus, their species is not often commented on by other animal people, and is often entirely irrelevant to their lives. There is no species discrimination or predation amongst animal people, although certain animal people species may have more of a taste for feral animal meat than others. In addition, some species behaviors may be adapted into personality or lifestyle traits, such as a sea lion enjoying swimming. However, a cat could enjoy swimming just as much. Animals of all different lifestyles and personalities exist.

Animal species are often used to symbolize different traits that we humans attribute to animals. For example, a lion symbolizes bravery/courage, devotion to a group/family, and physical strength. As such, a lion character may embody these themes more heavily. In the case of zebras, they are used specifically because of their symbolic meaning as a representation for under-diagnosed/rare medical conditions, and zebra characters are likely to be used to explore concepts related to illness and disability.

In conclusion: I am a furry artist above all else. I thrive when I am making furry art. I love the creative freedom and opportunity to explore symbolism that is inherent to furry art. I do not think I could tell a story or create a world that I was satisfied with if all of the characters were humans, because of the way my brain thinks in colors and symbols like this. But with this project specifically, the characters are just people who happen to be animals.

[moon-mage]

Sashmir Info Dump Thingy 1

I love my boy, so here is some dumb information/headcanons/half assed ideas I have for this dorky bat boy. I am working on some outfits for him and tweaked a bit to start so theres some WIP visual for ya. Information is below the cut and here is his original profile post.

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Sashmir Magnífico Age: 19 Birthday: November 24th Star Sign: Sagittarius Gender: Cis Male Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality: Homosexual/Demiromantic Height: 165cm | 5'5" Hair: White [ Dark Red ] Eyes: Red [ Blue ] Birthplace: Sunset Savanna Species: Vampire Bat Beastman Family: Vash Magnífico [Adoptive Father???] Dominant Hand: Left

NRC/MAGIC INFORMATION

Magical Education: Night Raven College Assigned Dorm: Ignihyde Grade: Sophomore / Second Year Class: 2-B (No. 17) Best Class: Biology Worst Class: Ancient Curses Club: Flim Studies Favored Element(s): Fire/Cosmos Ultimate Magic: Together In Spirit

INFO DUMPING

Sashmir is known for being one of the most social Ignihyde students on campus besides Ortho Shroud. He likes being surrounded by familiar people so he's most around other second years and Ignihyde students. He is known to be rather generous with food and if he notices anything on you, he will groom you up with permission of course. Unless it is a bug. He will quietly take it off you and never mention it. (He tried to warn Jamil about a bug on his back once and accidently got elbowed in the neck in his frantic outburst.)

Sashmir is usually softspoken and comes off a bit meek, but he is far from it. He understands he is not physically the strongest but he has an unusual amount of grit and endurance for someone of his stature. Verbally, he can elaborate exactly why you are full of shit and how with a shit eating grin on his face. Honestly, he is genuinely a decent person when unprovoked...but it's obvious he had real world experience with defending his peace and does so viciously.

I tend to put braces on Sashmir when I draw him. I realized this is probably because I subconsciously gave him Joint Hypermobility Syndrome. I did want him to be abnormally flexible so...yeah. I am still on the fence on keeping it hypermobility or Ehlers-Danlos syndrome.

In the dorm, Sashmir likes to host study groups in the night as he is more noctural. Sashmir is known for keeping the dorm's common areas tidy and hosting introverted social events. Examples being, Book Club, where everyone brings their blanky to the main lounge and cozies up in a spot and reads their own book. Remote Game Night, where everyone gets online and plays a game together...they have a Ignihyde Minecraft Server. Lobby Game Night, where they all play a game together but old games...Sashmir enjoys replaying Sonic Adventure 2 to everyones dismay. Who knows why. As he tries not to stare at Rogue the Bat and her one polygon tit.

Sashmir is a huge dork for live performance. Live musical performances in general. He will hyperfixiate on learning the vocals and choreography from songs he enjoys (which is a WIDE RANGE). He is a bit internet famous for writing sheet music for popular songs within 24 hours of them dropping. He uses his computer to create the sheets and music the same way Idia and Ortho would use their intangible blue computer screens they can type into the air. I dont know how to describe that right but you get it. He basically has GarageBand on there or somethin.

Adding on, Sashmir was going to join Pop Culture Club but decided that Film Studies would work best as he really just wanted to be a talent coordinator and teach people with 'natural' talent but Vil made him audition and he did. He sang Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande in Acapella....and because he wanted to be show he was serious about immersion in live performance, he wore the bunny costume and heels....and almost broke every bone in his body trying to walk around singing in them but he did it and showed excellent vocal skill. Vil accepts him on the condition he will not be so fucking reckless next time and he will teach him how to properly walk in heels. Here. I drew this one.

Will write more soon...later...meeh...ENJOY MY RAMBLING.

[granulesofsand]

🗝️🏷️ don’t-cry conditioning, trauma details in orange

I’m learning how to cry. I can do it, though only for a few minutes. Frustration tears. I was told growing up that crying implied that I was in need and worthy of help, and that neither of those would ever be true. That’s not the same base the others got, and that seems to matter.

I cry when there is no help. It’s the opposite of what attach-cry is supposed to do — everyone nearby will hurt me, and noise will make it worse. I can’t cry alone, or with friends. I know we cried when our therapist said they’d keep us, but I can’t connect whether that was me. I remember from outside my body, watching but not feeling.

I cried when the legal aid on campus told us they would not help us. I cried when the police asked who was following us. I cried with ‘clients’ who didn’t like me, and I cried with perps who hit me more. I cry when I have to explain to another adult that I am in danger, but only after they stop believing me.

I feel hands on my throat telling me to stop with harsh whispered voices. I stop breathing because I think they’re still there. I still cry.

The others know me as weak, soft and incapable, an embarrassment to myself and the family and them. I don’t want to cry, but I want to want to. I don’t mean to make a scene, but the tears flow without a care in the world. It’s not safe to cry, but I’m learning.

I start crying as I talk, when it sinks in that no one is listening. The emotions don’t stay with me, and I stop crying once I feel it.

I have so much shame for my tears. I associate a smell with them, but I can’t place it. There’s an undertone of rot. If I show bad emotions, others will see the lie. They’ll find it distasteful, they’ll know I’m nothing but meat acting like a person. I’m not lying, but I hear the lines they fed me; attention whore, alligator tears, don’t you go pretending, you asked for this, disgusting.

Are we all meant to process this on our own? I’ve worked through memories of a theme before, with the dissociated self-states and selves with self-states contained in me, but I can’t keep memories outside my shell. Does that make sense? We’re too separate at a certain level, and I can only work with them as another person.

I am a subsystem alter with subsystem alters who have parts. I’m one self of several who share a portion of self-states, and my self covers other selves with states of their own. The self-states I share bind us closer than the not-me of everyone else, and we switch who holds the relevant states. My inside selves are all mine, and I’m not one of them as much as I am the shell over them. They have their own states, which are all mine because I surround them.

The not-me is with the ones I don’t share any self-states with. Their fragments are built up different than mine, even when we have the same fragment copies. Those fragments make it so even an elaborate self-state duplicated for each of us isn’t exactly the same. I can’t blend with them so easily, and then there are plenty I can’t blend with at all.

The thing with blending is that sometimes only one of us gets the learning, and sometimes neither of us do outside of the blend we were. I can feel kinship towards the others, and we’re working on our ability to blend whenever we want, but not at the risk of fusing by accident. That’s not spontaneous fusion, which is fusion because it was right or for an unknown purpose. It’s fusion we messed up on, and it’s distressing to not know if we’ll be back to ourselves.

I cry, so I want to practice blending with the ones who have emotions to feel. But I have to blend my insiders first, and I have to negotiate blending or not with the subsystem I’m a member of. And then, when I can handle emotions and be present as myselves, I can show others how to cry.

The blending on my own takes trauma work, which is awful. I have to recognize every other self in the folder of my self, and I have to be present with them and help them heal. All of the ones who need to participate, and all of the self-states and amnesia each of them has.

It’s a looming goal. And it takes more conscious processing, so I need more energy allocations and subrealm time. This would be a nice time to cry, but I have to do the work to get that luxury. Time to go process by sitting on tile and looking at my hands.

[writing-plurals]

Hello! I am not plural and the characters I am writing aren't exactly original, rather, they are an interpretation of an already existing one that gets referred to by two different names, which sometimes get interpreted as plurality. I am quite fond of the idea, but from what I've seen, the fandom usually gravitates towards just two alters in their system, which is not in any way wrong, however I would like to make them more similar to my friends who are systems. The story is happening in an alien world, where the closest equivalent to humans is still very different, but the story mainly focuses on the giant semi-biological supercomputers they left behind. Naturally, their plural experience is probably very different from one of a system in real life, and I apologize if that complicates things… How their plurality functions is that a supercomputer's mind is made out of thousands of processing units, powerful mini-brains, all constantly processing and exchanging information, like a human brain but in zero gravity and essentially infinitely larger. The origin of system that I am writing is a condition that causes their processing units to struggle to exchange information as smoothly as intended, often clumping in separate groups, the groups may fall apart and redistribute to the rest of the supercomputer, or stay together long enough to, essentially, split a new alter. Due to just how large the processing power of the system's brain is, all of the alters are conscious at once, however some of the processing units will still be exchanged inbetween alters automatically, leaving some in a more dissociative state from time to time. They all don't share the same memories, but can create logs and manually exchange and copy the memories into another alter's memory, though they usually don't do it unless it's something important like scheduling or simulation results. The supercomputers don't exactly have a body in the traditional sense, though they do have an avatar their creators used to anthropomorphize them and act as a sort of output, like how monitors output some of the computer's data. They only have one avatar as their plurality wasn't intended by their creator. They cannot really customize it since they probably don't have a way to get any paint, accessories, or anything similar for their metal plating without the help of their creators, who are gone, however they can project holograms on top of the avatar with some of the details of an alter's preferred appearance (Headspace appearance? Would that be an accurate term?), but they don't usually do that. I guess the closest equivalent to fronting would be that since a supercomputer has only one "user", which means if they want to communicate with other supercomputers, all of the alters can have one "account" in each broadcast group/private broadcasts/etc., and the broadcast system cannot be modified so there can not be a Pluralkit/Tupperbox equivalent, which creates difficulties either always having to clarify who is speaking or only restricting certain groups to be used by a specific alter. A lot of the alters either don't speak in groups at all or only lurk, but 4-6 (haven't landed on a solid number yet) front quite frequently. I apologize for the amount of text…I would talk about each of active alter's arc, their relationships with each other and how they cope with the major event that happens in the plot, but I am afraid I've already given too much material to work on. I am worried whether the depiction of plurality in this system inside a supercomputer is respectful and if something is missing

It took a few read throughs, but what I processed of that, that definitely seems respectful so far, and like you've thought it out a ton! There's the line of logic as to how they form, function, and attempt to express themselves. And especially hearing that there's an arc for at least several of the alters that are all distinct, there's the added individuality that can add to a story a lot!

(For any future asks on this one specifically, something to note the different bullet points like a - or something like that would be Very helpful in breaking up the text and making it easier to process.)

-Mod Tick Tock

[hushpuppy5-blog]

Periods? A Bloody Waste of Time 🩸

I'm entirely convinced at this point that anything that they tell us (women) is normal is actually bad for us. While pregnancy from male insemination can be avoided, periods are a different matter. I am certain that they are not meant to be painful at all, nor are we meant to bleed so heavily. If a period is (as some claim) truly the removal of toxins and other fluids, are we not going to analyze what the heck is intoxicating us to begin with?

I saw this documentary a while ago called "Red Moon: Menstruation, Culture, and the Politics of Gender" were several women were discussing the stigmatization of periods. I don't remember which part it was exactly, but they were mentioning how painful periods were an energy thing. For some women, especially those who have suffered from abuse in their past, something may energetically be going on with each monthly release. I think it even goes beyond that.

This world's version of normal seems to be in praise of degeneracy at every corner of life. Pregnancy is normal, yet many women die from it or leave with life long scars (physically and emotionally). Intercourse (which seems to skirt itself alongside pure violence) is normal, yet many women leave with disease or some form of mental disorder. Periods are normal, but many women suffer monthly from it to the point where they can become immobile for a day or two. It seems that just as man has intoxicated nature, he has intoxicated the women as well. Expertly so. Now women have convinced themselves and others that pain and suffering is normal. I found this document online discussing some doctors who observed the difference between the western women and who they called "primitive" women. The western women were described as having highly acidic bodies, whilst the other group of women had alkaline bodies.

During the study, the women who consumed more animal products were more susceptible to bleeding heavier and for a longer period during their menstrual. With the alkaline women who consumed more plant based foods, the menstruation almost ceased to exist.

Modern doctors will claim that the absence of a period is signs of a terrible condition. They'll even suggest that an eating disorder it at play. It's interesting they'll say that losing your periods is unnatural, but popping a pill full of foreign chemicals to "regulate" it is totally not cause for future concerns. Speaking of eating disorders—from a western perspective—arguably many people already have eating disorders. We eat until our bellies our stretched beyond normal, and we consume foods that are lifeless and will end up rotting in our stomachs. I do believe that an aspect of periods is normal, given their spiritual nature. In ancient times, they hinted at a connection between the cycles of the moon. This was when women could be most in tune with their bodies and souls, perhaps harnessing spirtual powers that may have been dulled any other time. Now, women are lying in bed curdling in pain during that time of the month. Not much can be done productively. Of course, not all women have this problem, but plenty do.

This is just some speculation though. For me personally, omitting meat and other animal products from my diet has changed the way I think. I'm only four months in though, and my decision to do this was spontaneous and came about due to some health concerns for mine. I have had asthma and eczema for most of my life. These are two inflammatory conditions that have left me breathless and peeling off my own skin to a gross degree. Since reducing my consumption of eggs and milk and taking out meat completely, I've been breathing better and I've had little to no rashes. As a shift to something completely plant based, I'm curious as to how it will further effect me physically alongside my future menstrual cycles as well. Again, this is just the case for myself and could effect others differently. I just know that society doesn't care for case by case conditions and wants EVERYBODY to do the exact same thing healthwise, regardless of how it effect them personally. They've been choosing death for us for centuries. Now, when some of us choose life, they want to call it dangerous pseudoscience. Spare me. Women need to get to know their own bodies on a personal level. Many modern doctors aren't healers. They're band-aid solutions. This includes female doctors, since they are getting paid too. We need to be in charge of our own health and start educating ourselves.

Periods were once considered the first curse on women. Perhaps they still are. They certainly aren't desired. This isn't to take the Christian perspective of "woman bad", but there are hidden truths within these ancient books that must be analyzed. In the case of Eve, she suffered two curses from God in Genesis 3:16:

"I will make your pains in childbearing very severe; with painful labor you will give birth to children."

And

"Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you."

There's no explicit mention of periods here, but pregnancy and periods go hand in hand on the pain spectrum it seems. The second quote is also intriguing. This desire for her husband is linked to pain as well as "inequality". I believe that her desire for Adam makes them far more equal than we realize. She suffers with him in his degeneracy now, although on a different level. It's also notable that her suffering is more severe and constant. Would she have this pain if she loved "God" more than Adam? Or if she loved herself more than Adam?

There are so many questions, many left unanswered. Regardless, there can be a more optimistic lens to this. Like many curses, perhaps this one can be broken.

[rahadaddy]

I need to organize my thoughts on Immol. I am requesting that my players not read below the cut (unless they intend to help me world build).

Immol Overview:

Immol is a mountain city between Krezk and Tsolenka Pass, which has flourished under Strahd's vampirism. Run by the first vampire spawn, Burgomaster Dagmar Olyavna, Immol has cultivated a special relationship with Ravenloft. Think of it as the New York City to Barovia Village's Washington DC. It's not the capital, but it's the city everyone knows. Granted, Immol is also host to Strahd's westernmost military outpost, Sturmhold Keep, and is part-military base, part-occupied territory, so...

There is a caste system in place, which puts vampires/vampire spawn at the top, followed by dhampir, then Vistani, then Barovian humans, then non-native Barovian refugees/expats/communities. Immol is divided into districts along these lines. Sturmhold Keep, the western part of the city, is populated by vampires (vampire spawn), and is under the rule of Vasili von Holtz. To the north, the Mage District, is overseen by Strahd's bride, Ludmilla Visilvec. The central, eastern and southern portions of the city - Ravnovasie, Krovavy Dvor, Kopka/Old Town, and Blood Market - fall under Dagmar's purview. The Elbrak RIver cuts across the southern part of the city and marks a natural border between the vampiric city and those beyond. South of the river, two communities flourish in very different ways. To the southwest, Bishtograd thrives as a semi-permanent Vistani settlement. To the southeast, Soltoska, the Adventurers' District, merges foreign traditions with a Barovian way of life.

Unlike other settlements in Barovia, Immol encourages trade with other Domains, produces goods in Gothic noir factories, and bows to Strahd's will without significant defiance. It is not a paradise, however. Non-vampire citizens live in fear of monthly, government-sanctioned attacks. Colloquially called The Banquet, vampire and dhampir residents are absolved of violent crime in order to satiate their hunger. Non-vampiric residents barricade themselves indoors or sell their bodies on the eponymously named Blood Market. The Mage District's Academy is always in search of talented mages - some for recruitment, some for experimentation, and some for execution for unlawful use of magic. It is rumored that Lady Ludmilla employs Ba'al Verzi assassins as mage slayers. She collaborates with Sturmhold Keep to create dhampirs for the Barovian Military, which in turn, makes becoming a dhampir a tempting and deadly prospect for the average human who dreams of climbing the social ladder. Soldiers from Sturmhold Keep are sent to mysterious lands, sent around the Barovian Valley to keep peace, and on dozens of other missions, but every one of them has survived Shatterpoint - brutal training grounds at the base of Mount Ghakis. Humans and their ilk work in dangerous conditions in Kopka's factories. The life offered in Soltoska lures some in, but their leader, Father Wobakov, is said to be charming and mad.

Notable Locations:

The Academy: Ludmilla's wizard tower stands tall above the city of Immol and is the first thing that greets travelers along the main road. It sits atop a subterranean school of magic, The Academy, which hosts a limited number of students. Mages must register with the Academy and be counted for a yearly census. The numbers almost always stay exactly the same: for every new mage registered, a less talented one is culled. The mages train to serve Barovia in various ways. Those with lasting value are given the gift of dhampirism or (more rarely) vampirism. All mages live in hope for such a blessing.

Heldenhein - The resting place of the army of the Order of the Silver Dragon. These catacombs serve as a reminder to all who enter Immol what fate awaits those who dare to stand up against Strahd. However, there is a clear respect for the resting knights, which reminds even those most opposed to Strahd that she is nothing if not just.

The Cathedral of Shadows: This imposing cathedral once housed a temple to Mother Night before the devotees of the Lady of Shadows drove them out. A popular religion in Immol, worship of the Lady of Shadows includes the reverence of Strahd von Zarovich as the Lady's prophet.

Central Square: The town square is a place where all can gather and the different classes mingle in local businesses and entertainment venues. However, the fountain of blood at the town's heart serves as a stark reminder of who is in charge.

Burgomaster's Manor: Dagmar Olyavna's home suffers from the consequence of having survived centuries of remodeling and fashion. It is large, due to extensions placed on it over time, but its heart has humble beginnings.

Sturmhold Keep: This fortress once belonged to the dragon, Argynvost. When Strahd's forces conquered this final outpost, Strahd took the fortress for herself and named it for her brother, Sturm. It is now run by General Vasili von Holtz, who strives to emulate Strahd's rule at Ravenloft. The son of Anastrasya Karelova and her long-dead, mortal husband, Vasili is the first dhampir and eager to prove his worth to Strahd.

Dawnspire / The Refuge: The Church of the Morning Lord in Immol is run by Father Wobakov. Its architecture hints at non-Barovian origins and the mixing of traditions within the walls. Father Wobakov has some fierce and incorrect beliefs which he is eager to share with anyone who comes in the church's doors.

The Lion's Den Pub: Once a grand manor owned by Leo DIlisnya, the Lion's Den Pub has become a haven for fallen adventurers and their descendants who want to trade news and stories and who especially want to stick it to Strahd.

Veiloro: The Vistani name for the portal between Barovia and other Dark Domains which exists at the edge of Immol.

Miscellaneous Facts

The Barovian military trains and utilizes native mammoths for warfare.

The Vistani of Bishtograd often directly serve Ravenloft in ways other Vistani do not. Those who do not partake in politics tend to keep herds of reindeer, yak, or sheep or participate in inter-dimensional trade.

The Vistani seers of Bishtograd are descended from Ludmilla Visilvec's line.

Residents of Soltoska often have a mix of non-human heritages added to whatever Barovian heritage they have.

The monthly Banquet serves as vampiric catharsis and social reinforcement of the pecking order. However, wealthy vampires and dhampirs offer considerable pay to humans willing to serve as the main course in their homes. Rumors of blood, sex, and other debauchery make these events intriguing; the gold makes them enticing. It is considered an honor to be the banquet at a fine house, none finer than the Burgomaster's Manor itself.

[elenagoeslightly]

Through fingertips

the vamp babyboy had me writing after 5 years i can't believe this. the reader is gender neutral and i had the idea after volunteering as a guide for visually impaired people for years (which i loved was one of the best experiences i had with volunteering) which is not the same situation, obviously, but it made me think. I also didn't play the game so i am very sorry. ps this is not betad we die like men

"Looking at something?" Astarion asks, making you jump. You were just walking toward him, your head desperately trying to come up with an excuse to talk to him.

"How did you know I was here?" You were standing just behind him, there was no way he could have seen you, busy as he was finding himself inside a shattered mirror.

Astarion smiles as he turns around to face you, his fangs gleaming in the moonlight.

Oh.

"The only benefit to a mirror when you have my condition. It doesn't quite make up for the lack of lack of a reflection, mind you." The tone of his voice doesn't have the usual hilarity you've grown used to. There's a certain sadness to it that you find hard to accept.

"Do you miss it?" you ask, your hands wringing. "Seeing your own face?"

He scoffs, as if you asked the most obvious question in the world.

"Preening in the looking glass? Petty vanity? Of course I miss it. I've never even seen this face. Not since it grew fangs and my eyes turned red."

This is the first time Astarion has spoken about his past, at least to you. You can't help but wonder how he must feel, inhabiting a body he can't even see.

"What color were they before?" you try to be as gentle as you can, praying that he won't end the conversation.

It feels like walking on eggshells, and yet you can't stop.

"I...I don't know. I can't remember." his eyebrows knit together, as if he's trying his best to go back in time. "My face is just some dark shape in my past. Another thing I've lost." he adds, throwing the mirror on the ground in anger.

You breathe sharply through your nose and walk torward him; you only stop when you're so close to him that you can see the shadows that his eyelashes cast on his cheekbones.

"What?" he asks, looking at you like you're about to jump him, and not in a way he would be delighted by.

"I see you." you say, and his eyes turn large for a moment, surprised by such simple words.

He cocks his head to the side, intrigued.

"And what do you see, exactly?"

When you were young, you had a friend.

A friend who could not see.

When the two of you were out on your little adventures, you would help her understand the shape of things by placing your hands above hers and guiding them, describing everything that the two of you would find interesting like the beetles of the ground, the skin of a serpent.

You would describe to her the shape, the texture, the color and all the details under those young fingertips.

There's a moment of hesitation before you take his hands in yours and the startled look in his face, his red eyes, makes you wonder if you should do this, if you really should get close to him.

He's a vampire, after all. A spawn, if you want to be technical about it.

But you can't lie to yourself, or hide the way in which seeing him suffer tugs at your heartstrings.

It's curse of being human.

And you want to help him, at least with this, want to alleviate centuries of suffering.

So you put your hands on top of his and guide them up to his face; the simple intimacy of the moment makes it hard for you to breathe, the silence overwhelming.

You start with the laugh lines around his mouth, one of the things you adore about his face.

"You have creases when you laugh," you say, and knowing Astarion you should have predicted his reaction.

"Excuse me?" the offended tone of his voice makes you roll your eyes to the back of your head. "I am an eternally young vampire, not your doting grandmother. You can do better."

Of course, your majesty you think to yourself.

"What else?" he asks, his breath tickles the palm of your hands.

You move his fingers torward his jawline, "The way your hair curls around your ears."

Astarion closes his eyes, as if he's imagining himself, piecing together everything you tell him.

Your marvel at the moment of vulnerability he gives you before one red eye opens and he states "This is meant to be flattery, not poetry. Just tell me I'm beautiful and we'll call it a day."

The exasperated sound of his voice and nonchalant movement of his hands makes you want to throttle him, but you know what he is doing; he's hiding in plain sight, as he always does.

But this time, you won't let him.

"Is that all you want?" you ask him. "Shallow praise?"

You can feel the way his jaw clenches under your fingertips.

"Hardly," he answers. "There's also gold, sex, revenge-quite the list, really. And failing any of those, I will settle for shallow praise."

You do not believe him, you know there must be more that he wants, but you won't push the issue, not right now at least. You want to give him the time to tell you all at his own pace.

So, you move his hands.

"You have a mole under your eye," you tell him, placing his index finger over it.

"A mole?" he asks, looking at you like you just revealed some concealed truth about the world.

"Yes."

You then take his middle finger, make it run over his nose.

"Your nose has a tiny bump in the middle of it."

Astarion hums, his eyes closed again. Your hands shake and you wonder if he notices, if he cares.

You move both his hands up, slightly gracing the lines on his forehead before going down.

"Your eyebrows form an arch of silver just above your strong, piercing eyes." you guide his fingertips, gently grazing upon his closed eyelids.

He leans in the touch and your heart soars.

"Your lips are full, but pale creating that dangerous smile of yours." You praise him, and you know that if it weren't for the close proximity you two are in, he would twirl around like a peacock, basking in the flattery.

You cradle his face, and he opens his eyes; you know this moment is about to end, and yet you feel the need to cling to it with all the strength you have.

"Thank you for showing me what the world sees when it looks at me. What you see." his voice is deep and serious and you can feel it echo in your ribcage.

You close your eyes and take a step back, your hands slowly moving away from his face.

Your face is on fire and you damn yourself over the way he makes you feel: like you're some sort of infatuated child, and not an adult who can fend for themselves.

The rawness of the way he makes you feel is unsettling.

"You're welcome." you finally answer, unable to look at him, your hand scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment.

You turn around, determined to make your way back to your tent, but his voice stops you.

"You didn't say it." he whispers as he looks at his fingernails with the same determination as a warrior gazing at the battlefield.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, confused.

"That I am beautiful. You didn't say it and you cannot leave me with this doubt, my dear."

You sigh.

Of course.

After all, this is what the wanted; to be flattered, to hear the words he wanted to hear. The fact that they came from you probably wasn't enough to make a difference.

"You are beautiful, Astarion." you say, your voice just above a whisper. All this ordeal tired you, and the only thing you want right now is to go to bed and hope the tingling in your hands stops.

"Observant." he says, the smile of his face unsettling. "Mirrors aren't much use but to be described through someone else's eyes? Well, I could do worse."

You look at him, one last time, as your hands open and close around nothing; his mask is up again, that big, mischievous smirk and dancing eyes hide him completely, like a cloak made of night.

"Goodnight, Astarion." you say, not brave enough to look at him one last time.

You walk quickly torward your tent, too quick to hear him say

"Goodnight, little love."

[chaotictiamat]

CHOSEN

Summary: A quick tale on how Astarion found his fluffy companion.

A/N: This is just a fluff piece really. In my latest playthrough I made Astarion a Ranger/Rogue and he gets to summon a companion. I always pick the cat because he loves cats so much and I just could imagine this playing out. No idea what he would actually name it though! Thoughts?

____________

The boar’s blood did little to curb his need. It was infinitely better than the rats he had been forced to live off of but that hunger still gnawed at his belly. It was an always present reminder of just what he was…vampire. He sighed as he straightened out his clothes, doing a quick inspection to make sure nothing was amiss when he returned to camp. His traveling companions blissfully sleeping unawares and that is exactly how he needed them to be for the moment. He had a plan forming in his mind on how to ensure his continued safety and freedom, his thoughts briefly resting on the de facto leader of their merry little band. It shouldn’t be hard at all to seduce them. He recalled the way Tav’s eyes seemed to linger on him and the way they flushed at his more risque overtures. Yes, it should be rather simple indeed.

There was a rustle of leaves behind him and he turned sharply. Focused. Intent. Years of survival instincts rushing forward. His eyes scanned the surrounding area sharpening on movement in the underbrush. Muscles tensed, ready to pounce, and end any threat when the cat emerged from the foliage. The animals blue eyes seemed to glow brighter in the dark just like his own. The cat was carrying its own meal in its jaws, a small bird whose feathers were smeared in blood. It tilted its head at him, almost questioning. Astarion chuckled to himself, the tension flowing out of his body. “Apologies for disturbing your meal.” He did a mock little bow which only seemed to intrigue the creature who moved further into the glade.

He had always been more of a cat person than a dog. There was just something more noble about a cat than a mangy mutt. This cat seemed to preen at him under his scrutiny, giving its long tail an extra swish. “I hate to eat and run, but places to be. Do enjoy.” He turned then making his way back to the camp and his thoughts turning back to the seduction of Tav.

.

“Astarion?”

He pulled himself out of his trance when he heard Tav’s questioning voice, slowly emerging from his tent. There was Tav, bent over some cushions and pillows he had collected, a small smile on their face. And while he would have loved to have been the one to place that smile on their lips, it was not because of him. Oh no, they were smiling and running their fingers through the brown fur of a cat. A cat with blue eyes resting on his pillows outside his tent without a care in the world. The sound of purring reached his ears as the cat turned its pleased look to him. “Where did you find this lovely?”

Astarion blinked. Tav smiled. The cat continued to purr with an air of absolute smugness about it.

He quickly pulled himself together, barely a pause between Tav’s question and his response. “I was patrolling last night just making sure everything was alright. The only thing I came across was this little one. Though, I am not sure why it is here?” He nodded his head to the cat who at that moment decided to get up from his cushions. It stretched, little claws digging into the fabric of the pillows. “Don’t you tear up those pillows! They were hard enough to find in good condition as it was.” The cat paused, head tilted his way, and flexed his claws again giving the cushion he was on an extra dig. “No, no, no!” He tutted at the cat, reaching down to scoop it up. For being a random cat in the woods, the creature had soft fur that was surprisingly free of bramble and knots. It gave him an indignant meow, before seeming to settle in his arms, and Astarion suddenly found himself with a content purring cat that he was absently stroking his fingers through its fur.

Tav’s laughter mixed with the cat’s purring. “Well, it seems you’ve been chosen.” The laughter was infectious and he chuckled watching Tav walk away. Brown fur was mingling with his clothes and he would have to do something about that in the foreseeable future. “You are going to need a name.” The cat peered at him with a look that clearly indicated he could care less and to keep petting him. A smile tugged at Astarion’s lips as a small warmth grew inside him pushing the ever present hunger he felt away briefly. His mind thinking of various potential names for his new found companion.

Everyone always talked about the Chosen of gods, but he found he much rather preferred being chosen by a cat.

[zarvasace]

I AM SO HOOKED ON YOUR DISABILITIES AU AND I REALLY WANT TO HEAR WHATEVER YOU HAVE TO SCREAM ABOUT IT

THANKS IM STILL FIGURING A FEW THINGS OUT BUT IT HAS GRABBED MY BRAIN AND WONT LET GO

Seriously considering doing a November writing prompt but only with this AU. Fluffvember, yeah? Maybe with vague continuity. I dunno yet. I wasn't originally going to do much with this but the possibilities are blooming before my eyes.

So far, we have Time missing his eye, Twilight casually missing an arm, Wild with his hypertrophic scars, Hyrule being mostly blind, and Wind with a prosthetic leg. I definitely have ideas for the remaining four boys, but I'm still doing research and determining exactly whats going on.

There's a good balance in the group, I think, between injuries and things they're born with. Wild, Wind, Time, and Four were injured, but the rest of them were born with or naturally developed whatever it is. Four in particular is gonna be difficult to draw, which is a shame because he's the one I'm projecting the hardest onto. XD You'll see em soon! Anyway.

I'm doing my best to be respectful and informed, this kind of thing is super important to me. Every time I write a disability into a fic (like once I wrote Teo from ATLA being an Airbender XD) someone's commented somewhere with something like "I'm disabled too, and this is great." We have so much push for representation of race, gender, sexuality, body types, but I don't often see it for mental or physical disabilities. This kind of thing is super important to me.

That being said—this is an open invitation for people that have these disabilities to reach out for whatever reason. :) I have experience with some but obviously not everything.

In terms of story?

Wind gets phantom pains like he gets growing pains. He's mostly annoyed with them, and is at first kinda confused that Twilight doesn't get them. Missing limbs is not super uncommon in Wind's world (hooray for pirates!) and most of the other amputees he knows get them.

Twilight is still excellent at hugs. These are full-body bone-crushing hugs. I just want to be clear that not having an arm does in ninway diminish his cuddliness. Or his awkwardness. He's been assured that his missing arm is a birth condition, but since he's not sure who his parents were, the possibility of it potentially being an injury, purposeful or accidental, haunts the back of his mind, as does the possibility that he was abandoned for it. He's pretty comfortable with the whole thing, though, by and large.

Both Twilight and Wind have a plethora of good answers when it comes to "how'd you lose your arm/leg?" They range from the deadpan "raccoons really will eat anything" to "did you know sharks are drawn to the smell of wet socks?" It's become a bit of a game for the two to answer for each other when someone asks, doing their best to come up with the dumbest, funniest stories.

I mean, just wait until Time gets in on that, too.

Hyrule got lost in someone's city once. That was a little terrifying for everyone. The others found him in an alley petting cats and snacking on stale bread. Like most people, he's not entirely happy if someone touches him without warning, but as soon as the others figured that out, they have 100% become the Hyrule Protection Squad.

I have so many more thoughts, but they'll have to wait until I draw the rest of the boys and definitely figure out what their conditions are!