#the fermented drink. discussed in

[snowshinobi]

sipping strawberry-sage kombucha thinkin this ... is what blond cranberries would taste like

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Fermented Fruit Juice

I saw a post a while ago talking about how Varric ended up "winning" against Solas, and really liked it. I've been revisiting a lot of Inquisition dialogue lately and found perhaps my favorite conversation between the two when it comes to highlighting their ideological differences. It also foreshadows why Varric "wins" at the end of Veilguard (within the confines of the endgame choices we're given) even in death.

The crux of it: Varric lives in a world in which his very existence is an act of resistance, while Solas sees resistance as a trial that must be endured to get desired results.

As always, once I get started I'm sure this will be very long, but I love that we got the chance to see a very rare instance in which Solas concedes a point to one of his companions.

Solas: Once, in the Fade, I saw the memory of a man who lived alone on an island. Most of his tribe had fallen to beasts or disease. His wife had died in childbirth. He was the only one left. He could have struck out on his own to find a new land, new people. But he stayed. He spent every day catching fish in a little boat, every night drinking fermented fruit juice and watching the stars.

Varric: I can think of worse lives.

Solas: How can you be happy surrendering, knowing it will all end with you? How can you not fight?

Varric: I suppose it depends on the quality of the fermented fruit juice.

As always with Inquisition dialogue, I am obsessed. But this moment does such a great job of laying out the fundamental building blocks of each character.

Solas comes right out of the gate and lets us know who he is. He is united with the man living in the ruin of all that his life used to be.

Solas, too, is living alone in a world where all he once knew has been taken from him. Before his sleep he had a master to serve, and then a rebellion to lead. He fought, he was relentless; his people were suffering but they were whole. There were opportunities to find comfort, familiarity, or even just a new normal amongst new lands and people, but he rejected them (I think perhaps this is best shown through the murder of Felassan/the plot of the Masked Empire). Now, he lives as much as he possibly can in the fade and waits for his opportunity to restore the world he believes he ruined in his quest to save it (imprisoning the Evanuris through the creation of the veil).

Varric, conversely, has been tearing his way through this (to Solas) new world his entire life. I also think it's worth noting that his attitude is probably an absolute smack in the face to Solas, who knows what the dwarves once were and is responsible for the loss of their dreams and the ruination of the titans. But Varric doesn't need to know what was lost in order to know what an uphill battle he faces in Thedas as a dwarf. And fuck, he's from Kirkwall, he knows exactly how much worse life can get than a quiet existence with food, drink, and the stars for company.

But because these two have such a cool dynamic of agree-to-disagree/mutual admiration for each other, Varric thinks the story over and renews the discussion.

Varric: What's with you and the doom stuff? Are you always this cheery or is the hole in the sky getting to you?

Solas: I've no idea what you mean.

Varric: All the "fallen empire" crap you go on about. What's so great about empires anyway?

Varric: So we lost the Deep Roads, and Orzammar's too proud to ask for help. So what? We're not Orzammar and we're not our empire.

Varric: There are tens of thousands of us living up here in the sunlight now, and it's not that bad.

Varric: Life goes on. It's just different than it used to be.

Solas: And you have no concept of what that difference cost you.

Varric: I know what it didn't cost me. I'm still here, even after all those thaigs fell.

God I love what the dialogue in these games used to be. There's so much I could talk about, but I think what I want to focus on is the idea of empire being so smoothly fitted in to the discussion.

Varric, knowing Solas isn't fully satisfied with his answer, ruminates and comes back swinging. This is also where I'll add that part of the reason I think Varric throws Solas so badly is because he's what Felassan could have been with more time to form his arguments. When Solas made the choice to take Felassan's game piece off the board, our favorite slow arrow was just coming to terms with the idea that there is beauty in taking what an imperfect world offers you and making the best of it. Varric is comfortable in this viewpoint, and Solas can't just kill him on a mission or at Skyhold. He has no choice but to hear the argument he fights to ensure he doesn't have to hear.

And damn, what an argument. Without meaning to, Varric cuts to the quick of what has been haunting Solas. You cannot snap your fingers and re-establish Empire as it once was. Orzammar has cordoned itself off from the rest of the world, does not ask for help, and clings to an ever-crumbling old order. Even if you tried, too much has changed. Dwarves are not what they once were, and more and more have returned to the surface. Life goes on. It's just different than it used to be. And Solas has never been able to confront that possibility.

True to form, he pushes back. But why not give it a try? Why take what you've been given when you could wrest what you've been denied from the hand that holds it? How can you do nothing?

Solas: You truly are content to sit in the sun, never wondering what you could’ve been, never fighting back?

Varric: Ha, you’ve got it all wrong, Chuckles. This is fighting back.

Solas: How does passively accepting your fate constitute a fight?

Varric: In that story of yours—the fisherman watching the stars, dying alone—you thought he gave up right?

Solas: Yes.

Varric: But he went on living. He lost everyone, but he still got up every morning. He made a life, even if it was alone.

Varric: That’s the world. Everything you build, it tears down. Everything you’ve got, it takes—and it’s gone forever. The only choices you get are to lie down and die or keep going. He kept going. That’s as close to beating the world as anyone gets.

Solas: Well said. Perhaps I was mistaken

And then Varric hits him with it: a life alone is still a life. There is nothing that time will not take from us. What Solas fails to understand (and we can blame this on his pride, on his crusade he cannot lay down until he is free of his duty to Mythal, or his straight-up sentimentality) is that if Elvhenan hadn't fallen through the actions of the Evanuris and those he took to stop them, it would have been something else. Life is a wailing gnashing unrelenting song that will never be satisfied and can never cease dragging all that falls before it into its maw in the hopes that finally something will be enough. When it tears something down, your only choices are to "lie down and die or keep going." And again, as a Kirkwall survivor, Varric knows this. An occupying force remove your political leader? Quell the violence and try again. The chantry explodes? Save the city's mages from their bloodthirsty jailer and make sure there's a tomorrow where you can fight to fix it.

We know this doesn't dissuade Solas, the burden he's placed upon himself it too great, the ways that war has shaped him have scarred deep. Part of the tragedy of Solas is how he's been walking the dinan'shiral so long that he is incapable of turning around. Every step he takes has sent sharp rocks cutting into his feet, and it would kill him to turn around and see just how little of a distance he's covered. He cannot let go of resistance as a concentrated action, as fighting until there's nothing left but ruination.

But it is no small feat on Varric's part to get the Dread Wolf himself to concede a point. And a step further than that, Solas respects his friend, and respects the life he's built amongst the scraps of what once was. I don't doubt for a minute that Varric was a key part of why Solas was able to start seeing the world around him as a little more real.

And then of course we get Veilguard.

It is here that Solas dooms himself.

"You came a long way and made a valiant effort, Varric, but this story does not end with my downfall."

But it does. Because even if Varric, like Felassan, is taken off the table, Rook endures. And what is Rook in this game if not the very continuation of Varric's fighting spirit: an absolutely untested newbie who through miracle after miracle (regardless of the issues I may take with that) is the very portrait of "But he went on living" ?

Varric may not get to be the one to talk Solas down at the very end of the game after Mythal waves her hand and unleashes her second-in-command, but by delaying long enough to stop the ritual, by refusing to give up on his friend that stares at the stars every night with nothing but his fermented fruit juice for company, he ensured someone would be around who could.

In one of the less kind endings that person is Rook, dragging themselves into the fade with Solas out of sheer spite or sending him there against his will. In the kinder endings, it is the Inquisitor, letting their friend/heart know that at last, merely surviving another day is enough. And I like to think that it is within those kinder endings that Solas thinks of Varric each time he works to soothe the titan's dreams and make life just a little better for the tens of thousands living in the sunlight. Perhaps, in this world where he is finally free, he appreciates the gravity of ensuring others have a chance to keep living in a world that is hell-bent on taking. Maybe he even finds a cup of that fermented fruit juice in the fade, sits with his feet dangling over an endless abyss, and drinks to his friend's honor.

I'll leave y'all with a final bit of dialogue I love.

Solas: Do you ever miss life beneath the earth? The call of the Stone? Varric: Nah. Whatever the Stone - capital S - is, it was gone by the time my parents had me. Solas: But… do you miss it? Varric: How could I miss what I never had? Varric: But say I did have that sense, that connection to the Stone. What would it cost me? Varric: Would I lose my friends up here? Would I stop telling stories? Varric: I like who I am. If I want to hear songs, I'll go to a tavern. Solas: You are wiser than most.

RIP Varric Tethras, an absolute fucking baddie who forced Fen'harel himself to part with just a smidge of his pride and recognize someone that reminded him of what he once was--wiser than most--and in the subtext of this conversation, wiser than a pining spirit of wisdom himself.

[godidontevenknowwhat]

Missed Lessons

Tonowari x Metkayina!Reader (Romancing Pandora 2024 Day 6 - Heat Cycle)

A/N: Later than I had hoped but it is finally complete, my magnum opus, my first Tonowari fic

Sequel now posted: here

Tagging: @eywaite @neteyamsyawntu @pandoraslxna

Synopsis: Tonowari placed an incredible amount of trust in you when he asked you to assist him in teaching the Sully family the ways of the Metkayina. He placed the reputation of the clan on your shoulders. When he finds out from his son that you didn't show up to Jake's Tsurak training with no explanation and no sign of you at your Marui the concern of your friend mixes with the disappointment of your Olo'eyktan. That is, until he manages to catch a whiff of your scent leading from your Marui.

Fic Includes: NSFW so MDNI, bullshit about the Metkayina culture that I made up heavily using Māori culture because there's not a whole lot of information on the Metkayina but I know the Māori culture was a big inspo for them, reader being in heat, random lore about heat cycles that I will not be expanding on, no reference to Ronal but Ao'nung and Tsyeria exist so it's up to you, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, oral (fem receiving), p in v, creampie, breeding kink, I'm feral for him I stg, 3.8k words

You and Tonowari had been close throughout your lives, spending your childhood days running across the warm sand of your home Awa’atlu. You had passed your rites together, became adults in the eyes of your clan together, danced around the fire after drinking too much kava made from the fermented, sweet fruit that could only be harvested from the swampy inland of your home. So when the time eventually came for Tonowari’s father to step down as the Olo'eyktan, you were the one to crush the rare shells that you’d painstakingly collected together and fashion them into a beautiful, glisting paint that sparkled when the light of the fire hit it and the one to paint the delicate swirls and waves of ceremonial importance onto him all the while berating his skxawng ass for not sitting still. 

Tonowari trusted you with his life and everything in it. So, when the winged creatures of the mountains far to the west arrived with a family of na’vi hailing from the Omatikaya, your eyes were the first he met and it was your nod of approval that solidified the Suli family’s place at Awa’atlu.

It had been a quarter of a cycle since that day and the clan had become well adjusted to the family of forest people, leaving Tonowari to gradually withdraw from training Tsyeyk Suli and give more attention to his duties as Olo’eyktan once again. A discussion between the three of you ended with Tonowari granting you the responsibility of training the once great Toruk Makto in his efforts to learn the ways of the txampay taronyu (Ocean Hunter) and more importantly how to master the riding of the viscous Tsurak, a milestone all Metkayina must meet while passing their rites.

Teaching Tsyeyk became a daily task of yours, one that you excelled in if his progress was anything to go by. In fact, if you pushed him enough, Tsyeyk might go as far as to say he’d made more progress with you than with Tonowari himself and you took an incredible amount of pride in that.

Your clan observed a special community kinship, sharing duties equally based on talents and specialities. Whakairo (Carving), Raranga (Weaving), Tā moko (Permanent Marking/Tattooing) and Txampay Tìtaron (Ocean Hunting) being the most respected. Every adult in the clan contributed what they could and shared responsibilities amongst themselves.

In the many cycles Tonowari had known you, you were not a person to skimp on your responsibilities. A skxawng? Maybe. But Eywa herself couldn’t drag you to the lows of disappointing your clan. You knew for a fact that being so close with Tonowari meant that your actions and reputation reflected on him, so when the warm tones of the evening sun began colouring the sea and Tonowari was assisting the late returning tarpongu (hunting party) with distributing their catch he was surprised to hear his son calling his name.

“No one has seen her today”. Despite the irritation bubbling inside him by the fact that you had left Tsyeyk with no help for the day, concern for you itched under his skin and forced him in the direction of your Marui to check for you himself. 

His concern for you only increased when he noticed your privacy coverings were still pulled shut and when he entered your home only to see it a complete mess it was all he could do in his power not to yell for you like a wild man. Your belongings were rifled through, strewn across the floor. Your portion of the community meal laid untouched near your sleeping mat, it had been long enough that the uneaten food was congealed and filled his nose with an unpleasant smell. 

Taking a deep breath to try and scent you through the overwhelming smell of rotting food he was able to catch a faint trail of your distinct scent leading from your home, a strange, staggering sweetness clung to the inside of his nose as it mixed with your usual smell. It clouded his senses, made an unfamiliar prickling sensation appear along the back of his neck and spread down his spine all the way to the base of his tail that swayed with unease.

As Tonowari followed the trail of your scent through the humid, dense mangrove forest of your village he thought back to the last evening meal, were you even there? Did he actually see you engaging with the clan at any point? If you were there, how could he not have noticed that something was clearly wrong? Wrong enough for you to disappear for almost a full day. 

Bile churned in his gut at the thought of something awful happening to you because of his nonobservance, blaming himself immediately for whatever state he would find you in. 

Sweat beaded on his forehead and the back of his neck despite the cooling air of the evening, the loose curls that cascaded his back in a delicate waterfall were beginning to stick to his slick skin. 

Taking another deep breath of your scent, Tonowari was able to follow the trail to the edge of the water where it suddenly dispersed, indicating to him that you’d gone into the water. It wasn’t until the first spits of rainfall began to hit his skin, the cool shock breaking through the cloudiness that seemed to have settled over his mind the moment he smelled that strange sweetness to your scent, that he realised just where he was and where you would most likely be.

In your teen years, before he was Olo’eyktan, before either of you had even begun to think about your Iknimaya, you’d gone exploring. Past the swampy inland together, through the mangrove forest and to the edge of the water at the other side of the island. You’d quickly spotted a rocky outcrop in the distance and before he could convince you it was time to turn back you’d already dived into the water. He remembers rolling his eyes, calling you childish, hiding his real feelings about how pretty you were with water clinging to your lashes and slicking your hair back before jumping into the water with you. You spent the night together camping in the hidden beach of the outcrop, laying by the fire and talking about your futures. It was the night you promised to paint him for his ceremonial induction as Olo’eyktan when the day came, picking an iridescent shell out of the sand and vowing to make the paint yourself with the shells from your special outcrop.

Hanging his heavier, more ornate items of clothing over a branch after he removed them, Tonowari feels a literal and metaphorical weight lift from his shoulders. How long had it been since he’d been here last with you? Surely before he became Olo’eyktan, before his life became an endless cycle of being the most important person in the clan, weighed down by his duties, responsibilities and the representative clothing that he still didn’t feel he carried like his father once did.

Left in his tewng with his knife still sheathed at his hip and his songcord blending into the heavy leather fringe, Tonowari runs his thumb over the small shell you gifted him so many cycles prior before diving into the water and making the swim to your outcrop.

Tonowari took care to enter your space slowly, if you were injured or ill then you’d most likely react to his presence negatively. Entering the cave of your outcrop, he feels the water of the sea begin to dry against his skin as the lit fire inside warms him. 

Taking a deep breath of your scent, Tonowari finds it almost unbearably strong in this area, the strange sweetness clinging to you is stronger here too. It’s thick in the air and it makes an unfamiliar ache radiate through his kuru, trickle down his spine and spread throughout his body. 

His jaw ticks in thought, he’s never reacted like this to your scent. Never reacted like this to A scent at all. 

A deep, rumbling hiss rips through the air. Vibrating through your vocal cords in a warning grumble that makes Tonowari’s hand instinctively reach for his blade, his fingers barely brushing the hilt before he’s knocked off his feet. His head throbs with the collision on the sand but the sensation can barely push to the front of his mind through the pulsing of his heartbeat in his ears and the feeling of your burning hot skin scorching his own. 

Your pretty eyes don’t hold their usual warmth as you glare down at Tonowari and the cool, sharpened tip of your knife threatens his Adams apple, for a moment he’s convinced that you aren’t even aware of who he is from the way you’re snarling at him until you speak.

“You should not be here! Skxawng!” 

The harsh tone of your voice echoes through the mist that your scent placed over his mind and his earlier irritation boils up again tenfold. 

“You would hold a knife to your Olo’eyktan?”

“To my Olo’eyktan? Of course not. To the Skxawng that followed me out here though?”

Tonowari snarls at you, a noise you’ve never heard in the cycles you’d spent together. It’s so out of character that even Tonowari himself looks shocked at the authoritative noise before his expression hardens once more and he pushes you off of him, sending you back on your ass in the sand with your knife dropping with a thud beside you.

Your ears drop back uncontrollably, a whimper slipping out before you can stop it at the way Tonowari stands over you. You’d seen him shout, yell and berate people before that deserved it and it had never caused a reaction like it was causing from you right now. If you were in your right mind, not overtaken by the swirling intensity of your heat, then you would have had more fight in you.

Tonowari immediately notices your subdued nature and takes a chance to properly look at you. Your hair is unkempt, loose from it’s usual neat updo, your skin is flushed with such a deep colour that he worries for a second you may be suffering from sun sickness before he notices the rapid rise and fall of your chest.

Your breath is quick as Tonowari looks at you, every second around him is harder for you to get through and the heat in your gut is burning hotter than the fire lit beside you. 

“Y-You need to leave Tonowari. You cannot be here.”

Tonowari’s eyes drop to your clenching thighs and it finally clicks for him what is happening to you, maybe he really is a skxawng. His irritation, the heat burning him from the inside out since he caught your scent, the odd sweetness clinging to your scent even from such a distance creating a fog in his mind. It was all because of your heat. 

“Your heat? How is your heat here? It is not mating season and you..”

An irritated hiss rips out of you uncontrollably and you glare at Tonowari with whatever fierceness you can muster when all your heat riddled brain can tell you to do is submit to this dominant presence. 

“What? I am unmated? You think I do not know that? Why else would I have come out here by myself?”

Getting to your feet quickly you busy yourself with brushing the sand from your body that clings to your sweat slick skin. 

“You could have come to me for help. Or the Tsahik”

“Do not be ridiculous. What good would that have done?”

A growl of frustration leaves Tonowari’s lips and it takes all your remaining strength to stay on your feet and not immediately fall to his but the tell tale signs of your submission show themselves anyway. Your ears drop once more, your head bowing forward and your eyes refusing to meet his. Your fists clench with defiance but you can’t hide how Tonowari is only making the effect of your heat worse.

Your slick is flowing uncontrollably and it has been since you picked up Tonowari’s scent coming towards you. The truth was that your avoidance of group meals and your duties was purely due to Tonowari and his lingering scent being present in every part of your village. Even your own Mauri. 

“You need to be filled”

Your eyes roll back in your head at the thought, almost going braindead over the image that plagues your mind of Tonowari sitting you on his fat cock and plugging you full of his cum.

“Do not be so crass, I will survive without it. I would be doing just fine if you hadn’t shown up”

The waver in your voice makes Tonowari take a step towards you, he sees your ears twitching and listening for his movements but you make no move to stop him so he takes another and another until he is directly behind you. 

For a second there is silence and he basks in it, it reminds him of your simple shared childhood, when you could be with each other from sunrise to sunset without anyone bothering either of you. He thinks to himself that if he’d never been born into this family of his, if he’d grown to be a simple fisherman or weaver instead of the Olo’eyktan then maybe.. maybe the courage to approach you like this would have came without a push from nature and maybe, just maybe, you would have been his long before he’d had children with another.

Tonowari clears his throat and it startles you for a moment before you feel his large, rough hands settle themselves on your waist. The sensation of his skin against yours so purposefully forces a gasp from your lips that you can barely convince yourself was meaningless.

“Perhaps.. I really am a skxawng like you say-”

“You know I don’t mean anything-”

“Mean anything by it or not, it’s all you call me by anymore.”

Shame burns in your throat and your eyes sting with the prick of tears as Tonowari continues  voicing his thoughts to you.

“Maybe I am a skxawng.. but I have never, ever questioned the will or the way of Eywa.. and I know in my heart you have not either.. so to end up here, your scent enticing me and finding you in heat despite being unmated I..”

A fond smile spreads across your face as you listen to Tonowari speak, cycles and cycles of being Olo’eyktan had taught him how to speak to crowds and how to speak to the clan but yet in this moment he was reduced to the mild mannered boy you used to know.

“Perhaps it is Eywa’s will..”

Tonowari sucks in a breath at your words, waiting for you to accept or deny his thinly veiled confession. 

“And who are we to question Eywa?”

You gasp as Tonowari spins you to face him, a giddy smile spreading across your face to match the one on his own. Tonowari smashes his lips to yours in a kiss so passionate it makes up for all the years of dancing around each other, the way his tongue licks into your mouth makes an embarrassingly loud whine escape you and you worry for a moment that he may feel the rapid beat of your heart against his chest that’s pressed against your own. 

Your body is burning hot against Tonowari’s and he’s almost certain the shape of you will be scorched onto his skin like a brand when you finally pull away from him. He can feel your breath getting shorter and more laboured the longer he kisses you but the real sign that your heat is well and truly taking over you is the almost buckle of your knees when he purposefully presses his knee between your thighs and against your soaked cunt.

Taking the brunt of your weight, Tonowari hooks your legs around his waist and lays you back in the sand. The stretch in your hips forced around the thickness of his waist will surely burn once you’re in your right mind once again but for now the only thing you can focus on is the pressure of your closest friend's rock hard cock pressed against your pussy.

You’re so distracted by finally feeling Tonowari’s fat cock pressed against you that you don’t recognise him reaching for your discarded knife until the cold blade is touching your skin, immediately becoming foggy from the pure heat coming off of you. In a swift series of movements your clouded brain can’t keep up with, Tonowari slices through the material of your tewng and the delicate beading of your chest covering. The cool air finally hitting your body only gives momentary relief from the heat eating you from the inside out. 

Tonowari feels the pressure of your thighs squeezing around him and he drops his hips into your own, the roughness of his tewng against your bare cunt bringing a startled squeal of pleasure from you and your clit pulses overwhelmingly at the minimal contact.

Large, rough hands grip the backs of your thighs and force them higher, almost bending you in half as Tonowari settles between your plush thighs. Your slick coats every inch of your pitifully swollen and neglected pussy, your swollen, pulsing clit begging for attention from between your lips. 

Your voice comes out in a whiney rasp and you barely sound like yourself in the way you beg.

“Please! Please! Please!”

Tonowari takes a moment to admire you fully, every part of you begging for him and him only, before he gives a firm lick through your folds. His wide, rough tongue licking from your slick dripping entrance to your twitching clit forcing a breathy sob to rip from your throat and your back to arch almost painfully as you grip onto his hair.

Purring against your soaked cunt, Tonowari licks up every drop of your slick he can to savour the taste of you on his tongue. The obscene sounds of his tongue lashing against your wetness combined with your high whines fills the air.

You feel Tonowari suck your sensitive clit into his mouth and your hips automatically rock towards his face. His right hand reaches for your plump tits, tugging on your pebbled nipple in rhythm with his suction on your clit as the fingers on his left hand trace your entrance, teasing your clenching hole by pressing the tips in ever so slightly.

Tonowari growls into your heat as he feels your rough tug on his hair but he relents and lets you feel like you have some power from gripping and pulling him until his lips meet your own once again.

Moaning at the taste of your slick on his tongue, a possessive part of your brain is elated at the thought of him tasting like you, smelling like you, being a part of you. Parting from the kiss you can barely catch your breath, little whimpers huffing against his lips as he stares amusedly down at you. 

“It hurts, ‘Wari” 

A large hand brushes the sweat tangled strands of your hair out of your face, cooing at the tears wetting your lashline while his other hand works on positioning his cock at your entrance.

Tonowari rubs the head of his cock between your lips and over your clit, picking up a combination of your slick and his pre-cum that makes pressing into you an easy feat. 

Crying out at the stretch, the conscious part of your brain in the deepest part of your mind is relieved that you didn’t get a good look at Tonowari’s fat cock before he started pressing into you. He was easily the largest man you had ever been with and you felt like he was ripping you in half the further he pushed inside but your heat and your dripping cunt just wanted more. 

Tonowari feels your heels digging into the meat of his ass, encouraging him deeper despite the gentle wince on your face. 

“You can take it, ma’yawne”

Your mouth parts in awe, a choked whimper rumbling from your chest as he finally reaches the hilt. You can feel his heavy balls pressing against you as the tip of his thick cock kisses your cervix. 

Tonowari’s eyes lock onto your own as he begins thrusting, each drag of his cock against your gummy walls threatening to send your eyes rolling so far back in your head they would never return to their normal position. You swear you can feel him hitting your stomach, knocking the breath out of you as each thrust gains momentum and knocks against your g-spot with unimaginable precision. 

Reaching for your clit, he rolls it between his fingers as he kisses at your neck and shoulder, selfishly biting at the flesh to mark you as his as if the scent of his cum stuffed inside you wouldn’t ward off any idiot who came around sniffing at you.

The brutality of his pounding thrusts only increases with each punched out whine he receives from you as a reward. He can feel your cunt tightening around him every time his head bullies its way against your g-spot and with renewed vigor he viscously rubs his fingers over the sensitive nub of your pretty little clit.

Your vision goes white for a moment, your ears ringing and when you finally return to your body you hear a high pitched wailing that you’re shocked to realise is coming from you. Tonowari continues his pounding thrusts, each one punching out another gush of cum from you and a fucked out noise from your throat.

Digging your nails into his shoulders you peer up at him, eyelashes clumped together with tears that you can’t hold back any longer.

“Need you to cum inside, want you to fill me up ‘Wari”

Large hands grip onto your hips, tight enough ,you’re sure, to leave ugly discoloured bruises that you’ll wear around the village with pride. Tonowari's thrusts are animalistic as he chases his release, mutterings of a wild man talking about the image of you round with his next child. Tits plumper than usual full of milk for the baby.

Hands leaving your hips, they slam into the sand next to your head. A punched out snarl leaves him as he finally allows himself to cum inside of you so deeply he’s sure not a drop will spill out. 

Tonowari’s nose brushes against your own, a gesture almost too intimate in comparison to the way he just ravaged you. You bask in the silence, breathing each other’s air and feeling each other’s heart beats as the sweat cools on your skin and the mist clouding your mind finally settles. 

You can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out of you and you watch a fond smile stretch across Tonowari's face, the smile lines at the edges of his beautiful eyes crinkling and reminding you of how long it has taken you both to finally get here.

“Nga yawne lu oer..”

You stroke his hair as you smile up at him, the love of your life, your best friend.

“Skxawng..”

[anemonelovesfiction]

Kinktober 8- Voyeurism

Lo’ak X Human Fem Reader; Neteyam watching 👀

Warnings ⚠️: Fingering, Choking, P in V, voyeur Neteyam 😋, OC’s in the beginning for a smidge just for the plot.

I wanted to do something a little crazy and dedicate this chapter to @loaksulluyswife I see you liking and reblogging most of my posts and I wanted to show some appreciation to you as well, thank you for being you and thank you for liking my writing 😭

No use of Y/n in this so I’m happy! This shit is hard for me to do. Sorry for the late posts, I keep getting depressed asf (the weather aint helping) and I keep wanting to delete things.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Translation Station:

Syulang: Flower

Tewng: Loincloth

Word Count: 2.5 K

“What about you, who would you rather sleep with, Lo’ak or Neteyam?” One of my friend’s, Amber, asks me. We were sitting in a circle, taking swigs of whatever fermented alcoholic drink we were able to snag from the party the Omatikaya were having outside of the base of operations, between myself and the other two before me I shrug. Spider usually hung out with whenever he wasn’t partaking in their celebrations or hanging with the kids we were currently discussing.

“I don’t think either of them would be willing to sleep with a human.” I answered honestly and feel the two girls before me groan in frustration and seem upset at my answer.

“What?” I ask as my eyes widened, I thought being honest was the best route to go for me, but judging by the looks of distaste on both the girls face that wasn’t what they wanted.

“We wanna know whose dick you’re thirsty for, not what they want.” Ashley speaks this time.

“Why is that such a big deal?” I asked while attempting to take a swig of the drink, feeling it snatched out of my hands, and I sigh.

“You look like a Neteyam girl.” Amber, the one who’d snatched the drink from my hands speaks, the same person I’d known since we were in diapers

“No way, she definitely wants Lo’ak.”

“What if I said both? Would the two of you stop bickering and let me get a drink?” I ask as I hold my hand out, expecting her to hand the alcohol back and see her scoff, taking a drink herself and passing it toward Ashley.

“Come on, Amber, what the fuck.” I groan.

“That’s such a cop out, please tell me you’re a Lo’ak girl, you have to choose one.” Ashley asks with a hopeful tone in her voice and I about roll my eyes in her direction.

“Fine, Lo’ak, with Neteyam watching. Is that good enough for you?”

“In your face Amber, I told you she wanted Lo’ak.”

“She said she wanted Neteyam to watch!” She rebuts and I roll my eyes as she is givedn the drink again, having had enough I roll my eyes and stand, heading over to place a mask on my face and hearing the hiss signal that it was properly positioned, I didn’t feel like staying here and being denied alcohol. Plus I could hang out with Spider and his friends and it would be a nice change of pace from being stuck in here, Norm was in his link unit and I’m sure he’d be fine with it.

“Where are you going?” One of them yells out to catch my attention but I wave her off.

“Anywhere the two of you aren’t, that way I can get drunk.” I stated quickly and opened the door leading me into a small area for the oxygen to get neutralized, shutting it quickly to prevent the other two from seeking an invitation out with me, opening the second door out into the atmosphere of high camp.

It doesn’t take me long to spot out a table with a couple of drinks in the custom made jars they had, the intricate designs on them each meant the bottle held something different. I wasn’t in the mood to drink something that would get me drunk faster because the taste was usually worse, the phantom sting coursing through my throat at that moment made me shiver from the last time I’d drank from the jar with the purple designs on them. I wanted something painted in a turquoise and spotted several, they often incorporated their fruits into it and made it taste sweeter.

I smile and start setting a course to make my way toward the table, thinking of where I could enjoy the delicacy and figuring getting drunk in Pandoran atmosphere was probably not the best idea because I could end up forgetting to put my mask back on, but before I could even make it halfway to my destination, a tug pulls my concentration- and my body- off toward the left, my legs blindly following the semi familiar touch and my heart yearning for another drink.

“What the fuck-“ I stated before being shoved up against the slanted rock, my own breath coming out as a gasp at the feeling, eyes widening at the action as I stare at a pair of familiar eyes and feeling anger boiling over.

“What is wrong with you!” I stated angrily.

“I thought you wouldn’t mind if I brought you out here with me, syulang.” He lightly pinches one of my cheeks and lets out a chuckle as I swat his hand away angrily, all I wanted was to sneak some alcohol and enjoy it in a quiet place.

“You cost me some booze.” I stated as I crossed my arms and notice the smirk had yet to leave his lips, wanting to slap it off his face.

“I have an idea in mind on how I can make it up to you,” He offers and it has me raising a brow, eyeing him up and down, eyes squinting at his proposition.

“I might not be able to fulfill all of it but it might help, it’s up to you.” He shrugs smugly and I was starting to picture the different ways I could beat his ass at the moment, he was too vague for my liking.

“What are you going on about now?” I sigh.

“If my mind serves me right, You have to choose one, fine Lo’ak with Neteyam watching.” He tilts his head to the side, had this been a different circumstance I would have laughed along to his antics, but considering the situation I wanted Eywa to open up a hole in the ground to swallow me up.

“That’s not fuckin’ funny, dammit, you weren’t even supposed to be there-“ I cut myself off as a realization hits me.

“-What were you doing there anyway? Don’t tell me you were sneaking in to find Norm’s laptop so you could jerk off to some porn.” I began by letting a smile start revealing itself on my lips, watching his own smirk falter lightly, and feeling surprised at his reaction, ears drooping slightly before they pick up again.

“No bullshit?” I ask immediately and his eyes pick up again, eyes looking between mine before a smile settles on his features.

“To which one?”

“Your offer.” I crossed my arms, lifting my chin defiantly, not bothering to shy away from staring at his eyes.

“Can you even take me?” He crosses his own arms and looks down at me.

“I dunno, you seem quiet enough to make it seem like you have a big dick, do you?” I tilt my head slightly toward the side and watch him fight a smile.

_________

This isn’t the first time Lo’ak has been known to disappear, and as always, it had been my duty to retrieve him and bring him home, just for our father to reprimand him for his childish behaviors for disappearing. I’d seen him take off toward the link pods where Kiri’s mother was kept and had taken to peeking near the windows to only see two inebriated females laughing at something.

I must have mistook the sense of direction he’d taken, but even Spider had pointed toward where my brother went after I asked politely, both of them having pointed toward where the humans kept their machines to connect to their avatars. I head back to check and see if he’d been anywhere near the outer edged of the party where a lot of couples had taken to talk or sometimes decided it was appropriate to be intimate.

But I turn my head sharply once I catch the slightest whiff of his scent, taking a cautious step forward and sniffing the air around me, assuring that his scent is getting stronger, and slightly mingled with the other tawtute Spider likes to hang out with. I continue making my way down the path he must have taken earlier, wanting to know what the skxawng had been up to and why he thought he could sneak away when our father told him to stay near.

It doesn’t take long for me to find him, back facing me and he seems to be crouched down a bit, I want to yell out his name just as something lurches in my abdomen, a specific scent I’d only smelled a handful of times hits my nose and I stop myself from approaching him. Ears picking up the sound of his activities.

“See, I told you, you were worried over nothing.” He speaks in a hushed tone, almost soothing, something he rarely does.

“Look at how well you’re already taking my fingers.” I hear him mutter. I knew I should have left at that moment once I heard the sounds being made from the woman below him, her heavy breaths turning into soft moans, but I felt frozen in my spot listening to them, wanting to hear more as well.

“Your fingers are huge,” My eyes widen a bit as I realize whose voice it belongs to and feel my entire body straighten up once more, I really shouldn’t be here, and almost as if on cue, I can see Lo’ak moving out of the way just enough for me to see her facial expressions and blood was starting to pump toward my cock, hardening at the sight of her face alone.

“That’s not the only thing thats huge-“ He states and I can practically hear the smirk in his voice, mentally rolling my eyes at his comment, but standing here while watching her face with the light of the moon and plants glowing in the dark of night had me palming my growing erection, begging to be released from the confines of my tewng.

“Go fa-faster, please-“ I can hear her breathing getting heavier and from the angle I can see her body at, I can tell she’s moving her hips against his fingers, hearing him groan as his gaze shifts downward.

“I could just watch you fuck yourself on my fingers instead, syulang.” He mumbles and she gasps right as I hear a wet squelching sound, indicating he’d started moving his fingers faster, I palmed myself faster, the slight pain of being kept hidden inside my tewng was making my stomach bubble with anticipation of needing to come.

“Fuck Lo, I’m close-“ She pants out and I watch as he withdraws his hands from her, her protests being louder than her moans from earlier, the fingers he’d been thrusting inside of her glistening with the light provided and my ears flicker back, a blush settling on my face, I stop the groan building in my throat and see Lo’ak bringing his wet fingers in his own mouth.

He groans at the taste and I can feel my jealousy grow, how lucky he must have been to get a taste of her on his tongue, my hands balled up into fists and I’m almost tempted to walk over and punch him, but I shamefully remembered the erection I was sporting, knowing it was between walking away and letting myself grow soft, or allowing myself the pleasures of watching their activities and coming while watching them, and I found myself sliding my tewng off, erection slapping my thigh and I look back up to find Lo’ak lining himself with her entrance.

“Fuck-“ I groan right when I see her face scrunch up as he inserts the tip, holding her up at the perfect angle to see every bit of her body, the eyes she had once shut had opened as she looks right at me, eyes widening a bit, taking in a breath as Lo’ak pushes in further.

_________

I bit my lip to stop myself from making any more noise and pawed at Lo’ak’s shoulder, I still kept eye contact with Neteyam and saw his hand gripping his already hardened cock, feeling myself squeeze around Lo’ak at the sight and seeing his green eyes look up at mine.

“This is what you wanted, no?” He asks me right as he slides in further and I gasp, a broken moan being ripped out of me and catching movement from the corner of my eye, snapping them back to the older brother and catching him stroking his cock.

“Oh fuck-“ I mutter as Lo’ak bottoms out, stretching my cunt wide just to fit himself in snugly, eyes on Neteyam, moaning at him, right as Lo’ak slides back out.

“Faster.” I command, watching as Neteyam picks up his pace and bites his own lip to keep his noise down, his shaft glistening as his precome seems to slide out his fat head like a river, allowing my pussy to flutter around Lo’ak. Feeling his pace pick up after I’d stated that and throwing my head back with a moan, hands gripping harshly at Lo’ak’s shoulders.

My eyes shut harshly right as Lo’ak places one of his hands around my neck, squeezing the sides gently, his cheek nuzzling mine.

“Open those pretty eyes syulang, let him know how good I’m making you feel.” He grunts in my ear before pulling his face away, squeezing on my neck more, my hips moving against his and the sounds coming from my pussy could not be mistaken for any other activity.

Lazily dragging my eyes over to Neteyam who’d been matching his brothers pace, he’d been staring at my cunt, but shifted his gaze toward mine the second I looked over. I could tell he was breathing heavily, by the desperate look on his face, his hips starting to meet his hands thrusts, and how he’d squeezed the head right as he stroked it, I knew he was close.

“Lemme come, please-“ I whine, attempting to keep my legs spread, just to give Neteyam the view he’d been staring at this entire time.

“Of course you can.” Lo’ak grunts as he picks up the pace.

“N-not you, Teyam, lemme come, please.”

Any and every feeling in my body was set on fire as Neteyam faltered in his own ministrations as the realization hits, but picks up his pace again and groans freely, my own hips attempting to meet the fast pace Lo’ak has set.

“Fuck, thats hot,” Lo’ak moans lightly, ears pressed back as he squeezes harder on my neck, but my eyes never leave Neteyam’s.

“Please, m’close!” I beg just to finally see his nod of approval and allow myself to leg go, the waves of ecstasy crashing over my body, biting my lip in an attempt to keep my eyes open, watching Neteyam spill over his fists, Lo’ak never faltering in his pace as he comes inside.

“So how about next time I watch?” The man directly in front of me asks and although I’m still weak in the knees from the post-orgasmic bliss I make a face but smile at his comment, nodding my head lightly.

“You’re the biggest dumbass-“ Neteyam calls out only to get cut off by his brother.

“She said yes.”

“She said yes?”

[ask-eden]

Etoile flicks their tail tip Etoile: I'm aware that Allie didn't want to come here. BUT I still wanted him to have some fun! Etoile: I'm aware that getting him intoxicated isn't the BEST way to go about getting someone to have fun... Etoile: But I felt like he needed to experience some common mortal activities for a bit... and I know getting intoxicated and having fun is one of them at social events.

Etoile: If he was drinking and having a bad time... being sad or aggressive or clearly upset.. I wouldn't have continued. But he appears to be having a nice time isn't he? Etoile peers in the window, observing Alaxia in the building. He was singing happily and dancing by himself by the table Stopping once every so often to bat at his own tail playfully Etoile looks away from the window and closes their eyes for a moment, as if deep in thought Etoile: ..... I wish to have a important discussion with Allie after the night is over. Etoile:... With discussions like these.. It's important to be calm and have a more clear head. After a fun night out leaves one in better spirits. I know he'll sober up by the evenings end... so I'm not concerned at this moment by his current state. As long as he's having fun and being safe. Etoile opens a eye to look at you Etoile: Plus... He seems to like the fermented fruity beverage! If he didn't.. why would he keep drinking it? Wouldn't he have said No and stopped drinking??? Etoile: Who keeps drinking something they clearly dislike.... That would be... kinda stupid wouldn't it? I don't think Allie is stupid enough to do that!

-- --- --- -- [ Anon ] [ Background by @/sinnohsiblings ]

[cure-icy-writes]

Otona precure is literally everything I wanted and more from a magical girl show and you guys should seriously watch it

-adult characters in a variety of stages of life

-themes of running out of time, or feeling like you're running out of time, when i'd place most of these characters in their mid to late twenties at LEAST

-feelings of insecurity over your progress in life compared to your friends

-magical girls who are old enough to go out for drinks. oh my god thank you. they don't dance around it or make oblique references to fermented juice or whatever, they go to a bar after work and drink alcohol! Like. no shade if it isn't your cup of tea, it just feels so refreshing to have them doing adult things for once

-childish idealism is contrasted with situations like divorce and debt, and even with systems in place to take care of people, there's the understanding that people will fall through the system sometimes, and the....really resonant theme of apathy

-magical girls who go fight monsters on their lunch break and then get back to the office late

-discussions of marriage, pregnancy, dating, and what you actually want versus what other women your age are worried about

It's just. Oh my god it is everything I needed to hear. It's about not being a teenage girl anymore, and trying to find your place in the world. It's like the barbie movie for anime fans.

[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 41

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: Iris, Daryl and Beth continue on their journey, slowly finding ways to agree with one another. Iris and Beth quickly find a way to entertain themselves. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; arguments; discussions of drinking; drinking moonshine (homemade fermented alcohol, potentially dangerous); excessive strain on mental health (could be said about the whole series, but it feels relevant here as I'm looking for warnings to tag)

Chapter 41 - Bonding

They broke through another tree line and found themselves on a golfing green, a beige golf cart overturned in the middle. A small country club house sat waiting just down the fairway, taunting them with its four walls and the beckoning temptation of alcohol. 

“Golfers like to booze it up, right?” Beth asked. Iris raised an eyebrow. Stale pretentious golf beer? Ugh… Daryl didn’t answer, his gaze glued across the green to the six walkers headed their way.

“We’ll find out.” Iris replied. They trudged across the overgrown fairway to the country club house, the sign out front reading Pine Vista. They stopped at the landing outside the front door, a walker leaning against the railing. It looked almost like a halloween decoration, but the smell indicated otherwise.

“Might be people inside.” Beth murmured. Iris nodded. They walked up the steps, Daryl stooping to frisk the walker for anything useful while Beth yanked on the doors. The windowpanes rattled loudly as she did, newspaper preventing them from seeing through to any walkers or survivors that might be there. It seemed empty enough. Iris looked back, frowning at the walkers that chased them ever so slowly across the fairway. There were about twelve now. 

“Let’s see if theres a back door.” Iris suggested. They strolled around the side of the building, finding a second set of doors almost hidden by the overgrown shrubbery. Daryl grabbed a stray golf club that had been abandoned on the walkway, intending to use it as a crowbar. He put a finger to his lips as he tested the door. It was open and unlocked.

“Come on.” He whispered as the snarls of walkers drew nearer. They ducked inside, the house appearing like some survivors had already stayed there at some point. Newspapers, sheets and strips of fabric covered all windows, sleeping bags and survival supplies intermingled with the old luxury furniture that must have been there originally. There were stacks of furniture piled in front of a few doors, and a few bodies in the corner. They didn’t move.

As they went in further, Iris realized the place was a damn pig sty. There was shit everywhere, just stuff. Things. And a soft snarl rang out, drawing their gaze to three walkers, hanging from two ropes around their necks. Iris cringed at the state of things. This was not a nice place to be. More bodies, bloodstains. They were lucky there weren’t more walkers. Daryl knelt to the ground, picking up a woman’s backpack, jewelry, pearls and cash strewn around it on the floor. He gathered it, stuffing the bag full.

“What are you doing?” Iris asked, frowning. He looked up, opening his mouth only to be interrupted by the walkers from before catching up to them. They slammed into the door from outside, the golf club the only thing keeping them from being cannibalized by the undead. Daryl shrugged the backpack on and they hurried through a pair of doors at the end of the room into a hallway. 

They continued onward into what seemed to be the kitchen, industrial equipment and old food materials strewn about. Beth got out her flashlight and her knife, beginning her hunt for booze while Daryl and Iris peered around for any nonperishable foods. It was mostly garbage. Pans clanged softly from the other room, followed by a ghoulish grunt and a small shriek from Beth. Iris ran over, hauling the walker off of her before putting an end to it. She held a tall green bottle in her hand, which she smashed over the head of a second walker, using the sharp end of the glass to stab into its face. Iris lamented over the wasted wine, finishing the walker off quickly.

“Thanks for the help.” Beth murmured, breathing heavily. Iris hummed in response, heading down a flight of spiral stairs going into the basement. There was broken glass all over the place, a toppled trophy case blocking their path. They clambered underneath, Daryl taking the time to right a fallen grandfather clock. They emerged into a gift shop, polo shirts and khaki shorts galore. Daryl stuffed his pockets full of matchbooks while the girls perused the available clothing. Iris would always take what she could get, but she definitely drew the line at frilly pink cardigans. Beth helped herself. 

Iris meandered over to Daryl, pausing to admire the disemboweled and cut-in-half torso of a random woman. She was stripped down to her bra, gold jewelry dripping off of her. One of her earrings had been ripped off and used to tack a piece of paper to her sternum, reading Rich Bitch. Daryl pulled a cinnamon stick out of his pocket, stolen from the kitchen upstairs, turning to look at it too. Beth came to see what they were staring at, now wearing a yellow button down and white cardigan.

“Help me take her down.” Beth muttered, trying to cover the walker up with its sweater. 

“It don’t matter. She’s dead.” Daryl grunted. Beth scowled at him.

“It does matter.” She insisted. He huffed, ripping a blanket from the wall of souvenirs and wrapping it around the walker, covering her face. That seemed to satisfy Beth enough that they could keep moving. Back into the hallway, past the clock. It chose that time precisely to gong loudly, chiming three o’clock. Iris grunted, Daryl motioning for them to leave it. Which would have been appropriate, had the loud noise not called walkers from every room in the basement toward them.

They rushed through the hallway, finding themselves in a large open room with wood-panelled lockers. With the open space, Daryl and Iris turned, facing the walkers as they came, two on seven. With one left, Daryl moved forward, picking up a golf club and beating the ever living shit out of the walker until it collapsed. 

Even on the floor, half groaning, Daryl continued to whack at him. He wasn’t aiming for the head, grunting as the blood began to spatter all over him. Iris let him take his anger out on the thing. After a week of wandering through the woods, he was entitled to show a little fury. Beth came forward to get him to stop, but with one final swing to the head, Daryl lobbed the insides of its brain directly into her path, blood and gore splashing all over her new shirt. He said nothing, panting as she unbuttoned the cardigan and left it on the floor with a scowl.

They moved onward, turning one final corner before reaching a large ornate, a stained-glass window illuminating the long bar top. Scattered tables and chairs, a pool table. Fanciest bar Iris had ever seen. The room was littered with bottles and broken glasses, but there was bound to be something left. After all that.

“We made it.” Beth said gleefully, setting down her bag before turning to Iris and Daryl. “I know you think this is stupid. And it probably is. But I don’t care. All I wanted to do today was lay down and cry, but we don’t get to do that. So beat up on walkers if that makes you feel better. I need to do this.”

She turned into the room and Iris watched as she climbed behind the counter, searching for something. Daryl found himself a table, pulling a metal bowl out from somewhere, and using the butt of his crossbow to smash a frame on the wall.

“Did you have to break the glass?” Beth asked, annoyed. 

“No. Did you have your drink yet?” Daryl retorted, pulling the paper from the frame and folding it.

“No. But I found this. Peach schnapps.” Beth replied, putting a bottle on the countertop and finding herself a clean barstool. “Is it good?” She asked. Iris snorted loudly, covering her mouth.

“Sorry.” She said, pressing her lips together to try not to laugh. Peach schnapps? 

“No.” Daryl said flatly. Beth’s nostrils flared in frustration, watching him wander over to the pool table and test the weight of the balls in his hand before moving to the dartboard and taking the darts. 

“Well it’s the only thing left.” She snapped. Iris went over, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Sorry, kiddo.” Iris said, smiling softly. She found a clean-ish teacup, wiping it out with a rag before handing it over. 

“Who needs a glass?” Beth murmured, grabbing the bottle by the neck. Iris chuckled lightly. Daryl ignored both of them, throwing the darts into a large picture frame. Each dart perfectly found the faces of the country club’s founders, making Iris roll her eyes. 

Beth sat still for a moment, holding the bottle as her face contorted. She began to cry softly before burying her face in Iris’ shoulder. Iris pat her back, letting her cry. She understood. Daryl stormed over, grabbing the bottle and throwing it at the wall, the glass shattering as the liquid dripped to the ground.

“Ain't gonna have your first drink be no damned peach schnapps.” Daryl grunted. Beth sniffled, looking up at the remains of her plan. Iris smiled softly, rubbing her back.

“C’mon, kid. Let’s find you some whiskey or something.” Iris said quietly, wiggling her eyebrows. Beth huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she wiped her tears. 

“Come on.” Daryl called, jerking his chin at the open back door. Iris kept the tone lighter as they moved back into the woods, chatting idly with Beth about whatever kept their minds off of things. The topic of conversation eventually drifted to boys. 

“So have you ever had a boyfriend?” Beth asked. Iris chuckled.

“Yeah. Never any good ones, though. And I never brought any home to my dad. He was dangerous even when he didn’t have a weapon on hand.” She replied. She looked down at Beth, who walked with her hands idly in her pockets. “Was Jimmy your first?”

“Second.” Beth corrected, humming. She smiled to herself. “He and Zach were complete opposites.”

“Yeah, that’ll happen.” Iris laughed. “You think you want one thing, and then decide on a dime that you want something different. My last boyfriend, well… honestly, he was a lot like Shane.” Beth sputtered, her eyes wide. Iris didn’t miss the casual glance Daryl snuck over his shoulder either. 

“Shane? Like, that Shane?” Beth asked.

“Yep.” Iris whistled. “Real militant, hardcore, good boy. We broke up after he called me ‘mom’ once. It was after we’d been kissing. A lot.”

“Ugh.” Beth replied, scrunching her nose. “Gross.”

“I’ll say.” Iris laughed again. 

“I never really saw anything happening with Zach.” Beth mused. 

“Oh?”

“He was really into his car. Too much.” Beth explained. Iris chuckled.

“Well, we crashed it somewhere on the highway, so…” Daryl trailed off, Beth giggling. 

“He was a good kid.” Iris said, somewhat sadly. Beth nodded, pondering.

“I have a guess.” She stated. “Motorcycle mechanic.”

“Huh?” Daryl asked.

“That’s my guess. For what you were doing before the turn. Did Zach ever guess that one?” Beth asked.

“Nope. But that was my gig, not his.” Iris replied with a grin.

“It don’t matter.” Daryl grunted. “Hasn’t mattered for a long time.”

“It’s just what people talk about.” Beth sighed. “You know, to feel normal.”

“Yeah, well, that never felt normal to me.” He grumbled. They pulled out of the forest, Daryl leading them up a small dirt path to a cabin. “Found this place with Michonne.”

“I was expecting a liquor store.” Beth stated, making a face.

“No, this is better.” Daryl replied, jogging up to the cabin. They walked around to the back, Daryl peering in the windows before opening the door to a shed. He pulled out a crate, loading it with various bottles and jars of clear liquid. Iris blanched, feeling her stomach turn in anticipation. 

“What’s that?” Beth asked.

“Moonshine.” Daryl answered, handing her the crate. He led them into the house, checking the bedroom briefly before clearing off the table. He found Beth a glass, cracking open one of the jars and pouring out two fingers’ worth. “Now that’s a real first drink right there.” Beth paused, staring down at it. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing…” She started, huffing. “It’s just… my dad always said bad moonshine can make you go blind.”

“Ain’t nothing worth seeing out there anymore anyway.” Daryl grunted. Iris rolled her eyes, putting her hand on Beth’s shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. That’s mostly prohibition bullshit but folks that live out here usually know how to do it right.” She assured, offering a wink. Beth huffed, picking up the glass and taking a tentative sip. Her face twisted up in disgust, putting the glass back down.

“That’s the most disgusting thing I’ve ever tasted.” She murmured.

“Should be. It’s like drinking peroxide.” Iris grumbled, taking a whiff of the jar and recoiling. Beth went back in for more, finishing the glass.

“Second round’s better.” She stated, reaching for the jar. 

“Slow down.” Daryl advised.

“These ones are for you two.” She declared, pouring out two more glasses.

“I’m good.” Daryl shook his head.

“Why not?” Beth asked, frowning.

“Someone’s gotta keep watch.” He answered. She scoffed.

“So, what? You’re like my chaperones now?”

“Just drink lots of water.” He grunted, walking past them both.

“Yes, Mr. Dixon.” Beth replied in a sing-song voice, mocking him. Iris said nothing, taking a small sip from her glass. Ugh. Beth was right. It was disgusting.

They relaxed into it as Daryl began walker-proofing the house, Beth moving over to the couch and looting through the pile of things belonging to whoever lived there. Iris plopped herself down on the couch, sighing. Beth snorted, pulling something out from behind the sofa.

“Who’d walk into a store and come out with this?” She asked. Iris opened one eye to see a hot pink ceramic pot holder, shaped like a bra. The plant inside was long dead, the rest of the pot filled entirely with cigarette butts. Daryl looked over his shoulder from the window.

“My dad, that’s who.” He replied. Iris snickered, shaking her head. “Oh, he was a dumbass. Used to set those up on top of the TV set, use them as target practice.”

“He shot things inside your house?” Beth asked, wide-eyed.

“It was just a bunch of junk anyways.” He shrugged. “That’s how I knew what this place was. That shed out there? My dad had a place just like this. That’s your dumpster chair. That’s for sitting in your drawers all summer, drinking.” He said, pointing to the chair across the room filled with junk. “Got your fancy buckets for spitting chaw in after your old lady tells you to stop smoking. You got your internet.” He held up a newspaper. Iris grinned, rolling her eyes. A walker snarled from outside and Daryl peered through the window. “Just one of ‘em.”

“Should we get it?” Beth asked.

“If he keeps making too much noise, yeah.” Daryl nodded.

“Well, if we’re gonna be trapped again, we might as well make the best of it.” Beth decided, grabbing another jar of moonshine. She held it out toward him. “Unless you’re too busy chaperoning, Mr. Dixon.”

“Hell. Might as well make the best of it.” He echoed, grabbing the jar. Iris smirked as he plunked down on the sofa beside her, crossing his legs. “Home sweet home.” He murmured, saluting the jar before taking a swig.

-

TAGLIST:

@heidiland05

@ryoujoking

@catlalice

@maxinehufflepuffprincess

@lowkeyhottho

@fadingpalacebonkpsychic

[feminismisstillahatemovement]

I appreciate your answer about sex, (but do find it unsatisfactory to exclude outliers because they're inconvenient.) Incidentally, have you asked yourself what constitutes a medical condition as opposed to a natural variation? Why isn't left-handedness a medical condition when it clearly makes life harder? How about extreme introversion? -- Id ssy it boils down to values. The things we consider conditions are largely (90%) that which society does does not value. Which is why I find your hand-waving towards medical conditions unsatisfactory. It's not based in science, it's based in feeling and sentiment.

"I appreciate your answer about sex, (but do find it unsatisfactory to exclude outliers because they're inconvenient.)"

I don't see how pointing out that medical conditions that only affect 1 in however many tens of thousands of people cannot be held up as the everyday norm and be meaningfully reflective of the wider population or our general definitions of male and female is excluding outliers: I've taken the time to actively address them, and weigh up their relevance in the matter under discussion, even though it's a bit like talking about the influence and importance of a single raindrop falling in the ocean.

There's a rare medical condition called Auto-Brewery Syndrome, in which alcohol is produced in a non-drinker's stomach only through the fermentation of carbohydrate-rich food: are we excluding and 'erasing' those sufferers by not talking about them every time we discuss alcoholism or pub closing times or instruct people not to drink and drive? Or do we just all realize that outlier will not have any meaningful application in these matters for 99.99% of the people we are addressing?

There's another extremely rare condition known as 'aquagenic urticaria'; an allergy to water, in which itchy hives break out on people's bodies whenever they are exposed to it. Are we cruelly excluding the experiences of those people by not bringing them up every time we talk about going swimming or taking a shower? Should their existence make us reconsider everything we know about human beings and H20?

Also, I'm humouring you because it's an interesting topic to explore and think on, but it must be pointed out that I'm really not here to "satisfy" you in any way: you are the one putting forth the brand new, untested and outlandish position that a person can simply choose their sex or race or height or number of eyes (delete as applicable), and that the rest of the world must fall in line with that belief. But the overwhelming majority of the human race does not agree with that belief, and never has: therefore, the burden of proof and argument must remain with you.

"Incidentally, have you asked yourself what constitutes a medical condition as opposed to a natural variation? Why isn't left-handedness a medical condition when it clearly makes life harder?"

I suppose one of the differences would be that around 10% or more of the population is left-handed, and it has been reliably documented for hundreds of years in a way that the present explosion of teenage girls wanting to have their breasts cut off has not. There is, in fact, no precedent for the present situation - it doesn't even resemble the documented (and disproportionately male) cases of transvestisism throughout history.

Also, I don't see how being left-handed makes LIFE 'harder', other than human-made objects like tin openers are set up for use by the majority: I'm not aware that left-handed people are massively more likely to kill themselves than righties, for instance, or that there's huge numbers of left-handers getting both hands cut off and swapped and stitched back on so that they can feel normal.

I know the transgenderist argument is that there has apparently been a large increase in the visibility of left-handed people since religious superstitions fell by the wayside and schools stopped forcing them to write with their other hand, and hence the number of male rapists today identifying as women once arrested must simply be because of the removal of the stigma around doing so, and that these courageous and beautiful women are at last able to live their truth out in the open, or at least in the general population of a women's prison.

But is that really the only explanation? Is that really the best explanation?

To take a different example from the news, this past year there has been an unprecedented rise in people throwing soup at culturally invaluable paintings: is this best explained as something that people have always innately needed to do whenever they see a beautiful work of art, and as necessary to them as breathing for them to keep on living, but have always just been unjustly prevented from doing so by the soupnormative paintriarchy, or is it more likely that most of the people doing it today are gripped with an ideologically-created hysteria, that has told them they will be admired or rewarded in some way by their teachers and peers for doing so, which in turn will make them feel they are good and special?

Although in the case of the wide variety of medical and psychological conditions that are presently being included in the umbrella category of "gender" there must be many, many factors to take into consideration, my impression continues to be that foremost among them has to be social contagion.

"I find your hand-waving towards medical conditions unsatisfactory. "

"It's not based in science, it's based in feeling and sentiment."

Pot, meet kettle.

[burnwater13]

Concept art by Ryan Church for The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 4, Sanctuary. A Mandalorian and another fighter are shooting at an Imperial AT-ST. Calendar from DataWorks.

Grogu wondered if they had left Sorgan a little too quickly. After all it was a nice planet. Cara Dune had taken care of that one bounty hunter who had managed to find them on a skug hole in the middle of no where. He and the Mandalorian were beginning to get to know each other a little better. Why leave now? Especially since there was an old piece of Imperial equipment on the planet that had absolutely no business being there. That AT-ST was a problem.

Not in and of itself. Not any more. It was destroyed. It had been touch and go, but eventually the Mandalorian and the fine people of the krill farming collective had managed to deal with it and the Klatooinian raiders who operated it. But it was still a problem. Where did it come from? Why was it there at all? Were there any other pieces of left over Imperial equipment on the planet? 

Grogu was pretty sure that this sort of event fell under the heading of where there is smoke there is fire. He was even willing to fall back to a Jedi standard of risk management which stated that if one thing appeared to be out of place on a planet, an investigation into similar non-sequiturs should be undertaken sooner, rather than later. There was just too much that they hadn’t known about it, plain and simple.

For example, the Klatooinian raiders didn’t appear to have any air support or other mechanized transport of any kind. They had attacked the village on foot. Their only advantage was the AT-ST. So how did they manage to get their hands on an All Terrain Scout Transport to begin with? It seemed unlikely to Grogu that they had somehow brought it with them. Sorgan had such a small population the raiders could have run the whole planet if they’d had the ability to bring it to Sorgan from wherever else they had come from. 

Grogu thought it was likely that the Klatooinians had found the transport on Sorgan. If that was true, why was it even there? Sorgan was not a strategic location for the Old Republic, the Empire, or even the New Republic. At least not an obvious one. It’s two exports were Spotchka, a fermented drink made from krill, and pickled krill sauce. Everything else they had they were importing. But no one involved in the farming collective had imported an AT-ST. If they had, they wouldn’t have needed the Mandalorian’s help in dealing with the Klatooinians. So why was it there?

Grogu suspected that the Empire or one of it’s former, wayward, war lords, had found Sorgan interesting because no one else did. It had a tiny population focused on farming. They had almost no infrastructure. They couldn’t defend themselves against a small band of Klatooinians. It was a perfect planet to set up a secret something on. 

Grogu had no idea what that secret something was and when he tried to engage the Mandalorian in a discussion of unknown risks on Sorgan, he was ignored. Well, that was to be expected. Din Djarin didn’t think that Grogu understood Gal Basic and Grogu really hated trying to communicate in that language. It was so clunky and hard to pronounce and it had a grammar structure that left a lot to be desired. 

If he had been able to have that discussion he would have also brought up a couple of other things that puzzled him. One of them was pretty simple. How had Cara Dune gotten there and why wasn’t she doing anything about the Klatooinians? The other was a little more mystifying. Why fight the Klatooinians from the ground?

The Razor Crest was outfitted with front mounted laser canons. Why bother teaching people how to be soldiers, when they could have just located the AT-ST with the sensors on the Razor Crest and then blasted it to it’s component atoms?

Was the Mandalorian worried that people might realize that he had the ship? Or was he worried that it might get a scratch on it? After all the stuff that Jawas on Arvala-7 had done to the ship was he just trying to protect it from everyone and everything? Grogu supposed that was possible. 

After all the Razor Crest was the Mandalorian’s home. It wasn’t just a ship. All of his stuff was on it and he’d just about lost his mind when the Jawas had taken it apart, forcing him to put it back together with Kuiil’s help. Grogu knew that it wasn’t working quite perfectly, but he had no idea how to help with that. That was a gap in his education that he really wanted to fill in, but so far he hadn’t had a chance. 

Was that it? He just didn’t want his precious ship to be damaged by the AT-ST? Maybe. It really seemed to Grogu that the Mandalorian found a harder way to solve the problem than was strictly necessary, but if that was the Way, fine. That was not a mystery that Grogu needed to solve right now anyway. 

He didn’t need to solve the other one about Cara Dune either. But he wasn’t going to forget about figuring out why the AT-ST had been there at all. Not like everyone else. He owed it to Winta and her mom to determine whether or not they faced a hidden threat. They had been very kind to him and he wasn't going to forget that either.

 Concept art by Ryan Church for The Mandalorian, Season 1, Episode 4, Sanctuary. A Mandalorian and another fighter are shooting at an Imperial AT-ST.

[caxycreations]

I was re-reading The Wolf's Den and that got me curious. Outside of Splitters and Ryder's usual, are there any other unique drinks in that universe you'd like to discuss?

Eikirian Salt-Wine.

Most wines irl age differently, with the best wines being between 40-150 years old, depending on type and method.

Eikirian Salt-Wine is made so that, when young (freshly made up to around a year or two) it's very tangy, with a hint of spice to it, and then slowly sweetens over time until it hits the "pivot point" at around 200 years (when it's considered "thoroughly aged", though it never loses the spice.

After the ~200 year mark it starts taking on a bitter, over-salted flavor, and starts to become less spicy.

So a person who prefers tangy and spicy can go to a store and buy a bottle of New-Brew (the common Ferusian nickname for fresh Eikirian Salt-Wine) for ~$20, cheaper because it's fresh and didn't take much to manufacture, while someone else may prefer the sweeter taste and buy a bottle of Artisan's Brew (common Ferusian nickname for the aged variant) for ~$50-$70 depending on the age.

And if someone prefers the bitter, over-salted flavor, they can buy Hag's Brew (Ferusian nickname for over-aged) for $30-$35.

Despite the longer aging time, Hag's Brew is cheaper because it's got a much lower demand, but still more than the demand for New-Brew.

Side note about these: Eikirians invented Salt-Wine after Erit Frenza, a Dragon serving as a Dornumite diplomat, brought Heavusian wine to a conference between Eikirian and Dornumite nobles and explained the method of making it at the request of the Eikirian nobility.

While a lot of it was impossible for Eikirians, they developed a system of fermentation that worked well under the seas, and after centuries of refining it and improving their craft, Eikirian Salt-Wine is vastly more popular than the Heavusian stuff.

Though Heavusian drinks do still hold greater popularity in most cases, like the Splitters for example. The Eikirians just do wine better.

[digitalagepulao]

Monkey Technology at Huaguoshan

So, I've been musing on just how much the monkeys would be capable of achieving when it comes to technology. We know that Wukong taught them a whole lot, but what could they do before their naturally born sage brought all his learning? This is mostly me rambling about stuff that comes off my head and from my own experiences and learning.

Tool use and crafting

We are well-aware of tool usage among the great apes/homonids (aka humans, chimpanzees, gorillas, orangutans and bonobos, as well as extinct hominins like neanderthals and homo habilis), and for convenience's sake I'll give the fantasy monkeys the same skills. Wukong is credited as teaching them how to sharpen wood and bamboo for knives and spears, so crafting tools might have been out of their wheelhouse. So we have to work with basic, naturally occuring tools, like sharp stones and sticks as they are found. To further this point, that should include mortal and pestle tools, as all you need is a concave rock and another stone or even wood to grind things with.

Fire

This one is a bit dicey. Wukong isn't given explicit credit for teaching firecraft, but the novel does make mention of them burning incense and offerings. We can always handwave these deets as stuff monkeys learned by watching humans as animals often seem to do in the novel, but they aren't quite told to make use of it until Wukong returns and makes a proper kingdom out of Water-Curtain cave. So on this one, I'll just say it's something that they've known how to do for a while, but had very little reason to put that particular skill to work until Wukong came along.

Claywork

Since we established they know how to craft fire, next comes what to do with that fire! And first things that come to mind is cooking and claywork. Again, they only seem to cook food after Wukong's leadership, so on to clay. Clay is quite easy to mold and then burn, but it would take seeeeveral attempts to get the heat management right and learn what makes pottery crack in the kiln. As for glazes, they can be a happy coincidence! Depending on the process and time during firing, when the oven is opened, one can find the inside walls with a luster of ash that melted into glaze, and it's pretty neat! Natural glazes can be made by processing wood ash, which again takes some time to learn on their own but not impossible.

Textiles

The monkeys are described as being able to weave grass mattresses, and then later Wukong teaches them to make flax, which is a way more involved process in itself. Now we're on more dicey ground, as textiles take quite a bit of refined precision grips that most tree-dwelling primates aren't capable of anatomically. I'll probably go off about monkey anatomy at some other time, so we'll handwave that one to fantasy rules too.

Winemaking

We got plenty of mentions of coconut wine and other drinks at Huaguoshan's feasts and celebrations, but how did the monkeys get to wine? Animals in nature have been noted to indulge in recreational drugs, including fermented fruits, simply for the joy of it. A notable example is cedar waxwings indulging in fermented berries and needing to be picked out of walkways by kind humans so nobody trips on them. And most notable of all, humanity has had a long history with fermented foods and drinks. Coconut wine takes a bit of processing to be well, wine. This could have been learned over time but again, the monkeys never had much need to perfect this knowledge or put it to much use until Wukong's reign. Making wine is kind of hard when you don't have proper shelter to regulate temperatures, and his discovery of Water-Curtain cave is notable for sparing the monkeys the whims of weather and seasons. So we have shelter, but what about vessels? Water-Curtain cave is said to have all the necessities of life within, including stone dishware, so it's safe to say they had access to stone vases and pots, plus we've discussed claywork, so monkey-made glazed pottery is also a possibility. And we also covered fire, so the process of heating and cooling mashes for fermenting is also checked off the list.

Incense making

The monkeys are described to practice religion to some extent, offering prayers and burning sacrificial livestock to the gods, so one would imagine they'd stretch that worship to burning incense. Incense can be as easy as scraping off aromatics over simmering coals, which is absolutely within their scope to do, but things like incense sticks might take some learning. Getting the dust fine enough to be kneaded and then rolled or extruded is quite a labor without more complex tools than a mortar and pestle, but that's work they might be able to invest in during Wukong's reign at Water-Curtain cave.

Medicine

Now this one is a wee bit tricky. If we're keeping simply to usage of medicinal herbs, then we have multiple cases of great apes using foraged ingredients to heal themselves and even teaching the right way to consume them to their young. If we stretch this to say, poultices and infusions, that feels like a reasonable leap to make given all the other things they seem capable of thanks to basic tool use. For more say, complex things like major injuries and sickness might be touch and go. Usage of tools like splints, sutures and cauterizing are more on the lane of homonini (aka humans and our closest extinct relatives) and I think this is something they'd need to learn from humans how to go about it. If Wukong also brings with him knowledge of traditional healing ie. acupuncture, Tui na, and more complex medicine mixtures, then the monkeys' lifespan is gonna get much longer. And since he goes out of his way to protect his kin from King Yama's rule and shares immortal wine and peaches freely with them, that's definitely something he would do.

Art

Talk about a large category, eh? Art can be any number of things, but I wanna focus on their technical capabilities and their sense of aesthetic appeal. Art has been a homonin trait for a long long time, with recent studies suggesting all the way back to Homo naledi, who lived during the middle Pleistocene. Anything from dragged fingers across mud and clay, slashes on rock, and of course the well-known cave paintings, can be easily assigned to them as they had basic tools available. The monkeys are also described as capable of dancing and playing music during Wukong's reign, so it's unknown if these are skills they already have or were taught over time by him, or if it's something that they just had the time to devote to at that time. I'm going to take that as a little of column A and column B. As for aesthetic appeal, we know great apes as well as other animals do have a sense of what is "beautiful", as well as have their individual preferences. What exactly monkeys will find appealing is definitely up for debate, but while they might take cues from humans through observation, they're capable of their own experimentation at their own time and leisure. Accessories, face and body painting, carvings, and drawings would be fairly common sights among the monkeys, and likely very prized possessions and gifts.

[simiansmoke]

Childhood memories: doubt + tears (if you can do doubles) for DK

childhood memories

( doubt )  for my muse to discuss a time they weren’t believed as a child

He knows what he saw! The large pile of bananas everyone had gathered before dark for their developing nation was gone. Spirited away by that-...that THING.

"Dad- I'm tellin' you-...I saw what took the bananas last night! It was this big...dumb, scaly looking jerk, with a long nose! And TEETH- and...!" DK might have sounded like he was going to hyperventilate, but that was because he just hadn't learned the art of taking breaths between his excited recollections. Sputtering, he spun in a circle and pounded the ground a few times. "IT WAS A MONSTER!"

Cranky of course was not having any of his young son's delusions, turning an exasperated look unto the young Kong. "Look, I know you're a growing boy, BUT. YOU CAN'T JUST EAT THE WHOLE WEEK'S WORTH OF SUPPLY OF BANANAS IN ONE NIGHT, DK!"

The young Kong flinched back, but doubled down, eyes narrowing and fists pounding the ground a bit more furiously. "I. DIDN'T!!! I TOLD YOU IT WAS THE MONSTER! THE SCALEY MONSTER WITH BIG TEETH!" Flashing his not so big teeth as a demonstration, DK hisses...in the way he'd heard the beast bellow and hiss while taking their bananas. "It wassa monster! I swEAR- DAD..."

But he wouldn't swear any more because Cranky's cane was halfway up his nose with a thwack. "YOU WILL GO PICK THE BANANAS YOU ATE TO MAKE UP FOR THE SHORTAGE RIGHT NOW, YOUNG MAN."

DK rubbed his nose, fur flaring and teeth grinding as he flung the older Kong a glare. "...FINE! BUT I HATE YOU!" He adds quickly before turning to half scamper, half stomp towards the nearest banana grove. --------------------------------------

 ( tears )  for my muse to discuss a childhood memory that makes them sad

Sighing, DK swirled his glass of fermented coconut juice, staring ahead like he saw a scene unfolding before him, though there was no sign of a recording device anywhere to show some distant memory.

"I had a pet once..." He blinks, seemingly surprised he'd recalled such a fact as he twirled his glass then took a sip. "...banana bird. REal cute." A wave of the hand transformed into a roll of his palm through his hair curl and down the back of his neck. "Could take ya to any banana stash in the zone...sang holalback girl like an angel." With a sigh, the Kong nursed his drink sullenly.

"...I smoked hella jungle weed one day and-...the munchies and an empty kitchen got the better of me. Let's just say...banana birds are definitely vegan."

[zerogate]

The Vedas also mention a drink called surā. Ritual instructions on preparing it show that it was a complex, grain-based, fermented alcoholic drink. As Charles Malamoud tells us, this drink is in every way the counterpart of soma in Vedic thought. For example, soma is of the gods, surā of humans; soma is light, surā darkness. A later, yet still quite early, Hindu myth relates that surā, also a goddess, arose when the gods and anti-gods churned the milk ocean in order to produce the nectar of immortality. This myth is central to many Sanskrit texts that assign a place to drugs in religion and the cosmos.

Early Hindu law prohibited surā for brahmin males, who were involved in the soma sacrifice. They could not (with one minor exception) ingest the counterpart to soma, as being thus intoxicated would interfere with the body and conduct of a ritually pure Veda scholar and priest. Thus in Hinduism, the prohibition of alcohol is tied to social class (varṇa, sometimes translated as “caste”). Later Hindu legal texts extended this prohibition to other social classes in complex ways: brahmins were teetotalers, some classes were forbidden only grain-based drinks, and other classes could drink whatever they wanted. Buddhists and Jains, both lay and monastics, were prohibited from all alcoholic drinks.

Discussions of drinking as a “vice” were hardly restricted to any one religious tradition, or even to what we would nowadays consider religious contexts. Thus, where specific prohibitions existed, they focused on alcohol, especially on surā, and rules were often relative to religion and class. None of the sources from early periods propose a universal prohibition of alcohol, nor of any other drugs.

In ancient and early medieval India, drug “prohibition” was more a question of people from certain communities or of a certain social status being required to abstain from drugs (or electing to do so), often for reasons we would call religious.

Unlike Greece (wine), ancient Mesopotamia (beer), or China (jiu), ancient Indian high culture did not have an intoxicant that was both commonly used and celebrated in canonical texts. Soma, the ancient drink of the gods, was a purely liturgical preparation from a very early period, and the common drug, alcoholic surā, though equally ancient, was shunned by the religious elite and sidelined in extant discussions. Where kings in ancient India are shown drinking, they tend to be depicted enjoying more luxurious products like imported wine and spiced sugarcane liquors at their feasts. Class and caste factors, and religious affiliation, also played a role in patterns of consumption. The development of other drugs in South Asia is thus best understood in relation to these complex, regionally specific patterns of consumption and representation.

-- The Oxford Handbook of Global Drug History

[charlesandmartine]

Friday 17th February 2023

This and the previous property's water supply comes from the sky. Huge tanks in the garden harvest rainwater for drinking as well as all the other household requirements. These tanks here are running low, and if significant amounts of rain are not delivered soon, they will need topping up by truck at cost. This is not seen as being a popular pastime. Rains are forecast in 4 weeks time.

We had set targets for today that could be considered unrealistic. Our journey from Tuncurry to Yamba was to be something slightly less than 5 hour straight and 430kms up the fast A1 Pacific Highway, which is a long way for us in one day. Complicated of course because we wanted to stop on route to take a look at a couple of places. The first must see place had to be the lunch spot in Nambucca Heads, conveniently situated at the head of the Nambucca River but an absolutely delightful collection of sandbanks and natural harbour. Ham & egg sandwiches are an excellent match for the scenery on offer. What with the visit to the bakery added to the consumption time I think we are now talking overall 6 hours with less than halfway. Our next stop was to be Bellingen at the start of the Waterfall Drive. This unsurprisingly involved driving down a road surrounded by waterfalls and comes well recommended. Bellingen is a town that absolutely confirms everything we like about Australia! It is a comely mainstreet of old traditional shops with covered walkways, banks and cinema; balconies with delicate regency iron fretwork which adds a real charm to it. Apparently some town planners are keen to rip the lot down and replace it with modern stuff identical to everywhere else. Thankfully there is sufficient opposition to this viewpoint to hold this sacrilegious act at bay. But for how long we ask? The tourist information lady was very helpful when asked where best to sample the loveliest of her waterfalls and she immediately began scooping copious piles of leaflets, printouts, maps and instructions suitable for a fortnight stay. Another approach was proffered; if you could do just one of these places, which would it be? So that was how we ended up driving up the Dorrigo Mountain to see the Crystal Shower Falls Walk in the Dorrigo National Park Rainforest. This involved a 3km round trip along tall canopied forest paths winding steadily downwards passing palms and yellow cedars until we heard the sounds of running water. The Crystal Shower did not disappoint, especially the ability to clamber behind the falls to view the falling water from the other side. Fantastic and well worth the hike back up the winding forest path, although now making the overall journey time approach 8 hours.

Thus it was that we arrived in our superb Samsara Bush Retreat cabin just before dusk, tired and very hungry. We didn't fancy cooking at this point so we emptied the Nissan and set coordinates for what looked essentially the nearest thing to a fish and chips restaurant. This somewhat morphed into a hotel by the motorway bridge over the river. Dispell all cosy thoughts of country hotels straightaway. Think more in terms of cowboy town hotel, cattle rustlers and karaoke. Then combine this with trying to converse over a cacophony of country music (term loosely applied) with a Sheila, who's already had a tough day sheep wrestling, with an intention of ordering take away F&C. What did come across in clear dulcet tones was: 30 minutes, busy and that'll be 50 bucks! Waiting the required 'go out and catch fish, fillet and cook' time we investigated the possibility of a supply of SB. This was to romp in at 38 bucks a bottle! Well you have to crush the grapes, ferment etc, all costs I suppose. So we approached what must have been Sheila's sister behind the bar to enquire if she might possibly have a bottle of beer. What do want, what you got, no what do you want? This circular discussion continued a while until we suggested Four X. Then with a look, she disappeared out back somewhere (not the outback, although by the amount of time it took it could have been) she emerged with a cold one.

Our landlord suggested later this was the best place to go in this sugar mills district where clearly the entire town of millers come out on a Friday evening to let their hair down.

Hmm

[startfirstbd]

Health is the True Wealth: Let's Learn Something New for Nutrition and Wellness

Let Your Plate Be as Colorful as a Rainbow:

Include a mix of colorful fruits and vegetables in your meals. Each color offers unique nutritional benefits. For example, red (tomatoes, beets) is rich in antioxidants, and yellow (carrots, yellow peppers) is a great source of Vitamin A.

Choose Natural Foods Over Processed Ones:

Opt for natural and minimally processed foods instead of highly processed options. Whole grains, sugar-free items, and fresh vegetables are excellent choices.

Proper Hydration:

Drink at least 2.5-3 liters of water daily. This helps flush out toxins and keeps the skin glowing. However, avoid drinking water 30 minutes before or after meals.

Natural Sugar vs. Processed Sugar:

Cut out artificial sugars. Natural sugar from fruits boosts energy and enhances immunity.

Eat Fermented Foods for Gut Health:

Fermented foods like yogurt, kimchi, and kefir are great sources of probiotics, which are beneficial for digestion.

Embrace Seasonal Fruits and Vegetables:

Make it a habit to consume fruits and vegetables available in their respective seasons. They are environmentally friendly and nutrient-dense.

Eat Healthy Snacks Every 3 Hours:

Avoid long fasting periods that slow down metabolism. Opt for healthy snacks like nuts, seeds, or fruits.

Practice Mindful Eating:

Eat slowly and chew your food properly. This aids digestion and reduces overeating.

Exercise for at Least 30 Minutes Daily:

Regular exercise not only burns calories but also improves brain function and elevates mood.

Don’t Compromise on Sleep:

Sleep for 7-8 hours daily. Proper sleep balances hormones and boosts immunity.

Caught in the Diet Trap: Healthy Eating Habits or Dangerous Myths?

Did you know that popular diet plans can sometimes be harmful in the long run? Here's a discussion on lesser-known truths often overlooked.

The Reality of Low-Fat Foods Low-fat doesn’t always mean healthy. Many companies increase sugar content in low-fat products, which can lead to weight gain instead of weight loss.

Fasting and Long-Term Damage Intermittent fasting is very popular, but it isn’t suitable for everyone. Long fasting periods can slow metabolism and cause hormonal imbalances.

Balancing Protein Intake While protein helps build muscles, excessive protein can put undue stress on the kidneys.

Hidden Dangers of Diet Drinks Diet sodas or drinks often contain artificial sweeteners, which can increase the risk of insulin resistance and diabetes in the long term.

The Link Between Mental Health and Dieting The pressure of dieting can negatively affect mental health, leading to self-esteem issues, depression, and unhealthy eating habits.

The Key to a Healthy Diet:

Eat plenty of greens and whole grains.

Avoid processed foods.

Choose a healthy lifestyle over restrictive diets.

Stay hydrated and engage in light daily exercise.

[drmanishkumargupta]

Headache Due to Gas: Causes, Symptoms, and Home Remedies

Headaches are a common health issue that almost everyone experiences at some point in their lives. While headaches can be triggered by a variety of factors, did you know that gastrointestinal issues, such as gas, can also lead to intense headaches? At Gastro, Liver & Endoscopy Center, Dr. Manish Gupta, one of the Best Gastro Specialists in Ghaziabad, has treated countless patients suffering from headaches related to gas and digestive problems. In this blog, we will discuss the causes, symptoms, and home remedies for headaches due to gas and bloating.

Understanding the Link between Gas and Headaches:

Gas and bloating are often associated with discomfort in the stomach, but they can have a more profound impact on the body than many realize. Gas buildup in the intestines can lead to pressure on surrounding organs and tissues, which may, in some cases, trigger headaches. While the exact mechanism is not entirely understood, there are several theories that help explain why gas-induced headaches occur:

Pressure on the Diaphragm: The diaphragm is a muscle that separates the chest and abdominal cavity. When excess gas builds up in the stomach or intestines, it can exert pressure on the diaphragm. This pressure may radiate to the head, causing a headache.

Bloating and Tension: Bloating from gas causes an uncomfortable sensation of fullness. This may trigger stress and anxiety, which can lead to tension headaches. Stress-induced muscle tension in the neck and shoulders can contribute to the severity of the headache.

Digestive System and Nervous System Connection: The gut and brain are interconnected through the gut-brain axis. This connection means that issues in the digestive system, like gas, can influence how the brain functions, potentially triggering headaches or migraines.

Causes of Gas Buildup in the Stomach:

Gas buildup in the stomach and intestines can occur for several reasons. Some of the most common causes include:

Poor Digestion: When food is not broken down properly, it can ferment in the gut, leading to the production of gas. This is commonly seen with foods that are difficult to digest, such as beans, cabbage, and carbonated drinks.

Food Intolerances and Sensitivities: Certain foods, like dairy or gluten, can cause excessive gas production in individuals with food intolerances. The inability to digest specific foods leads to fermentation in the gut, resulting in gas buildup.

Swallowed Air: Sometimes, air is swallowed while eating or drinking, especially when eating quickly or talking while eating. This air accumulates in the stomach, causing bloating and potentially leading to headaches.

Gastrointestinal Disorders: Conditions such as irritable bowel syndrome (IBS), acid reflux, or other gastrointestinal disorders can lead to excessive gas production. These conditions may also result in additional symptoms like abdominal pain and bloating.

Overeating: Eating large meals can put excessive pressure on the stomach, leading to gas buildup. This is especially common after a heavy meal that the digestive system struggles to process efficiently.

Symptoms of Headache Due to Gas:

Headaches caused by gas may feel similar to regular tension headaches or migraines, but there are certain symptoms that can help distinguish gas-induced headaches:

Dull, Pressure-like Pain: The headache may feel like a constant pressure around the forehead or temples, often accompanied by a sensation of fullness in the stomach.

Bloating and Abdominal Discomfort: You may experience bloating, gas, or discomfort in the abdomen, which can worsen the headache. This is often a key sign that the headache is linked to digestive issues.

Fatigue and Irritability: Gas and bloating can lead to feelings of fatigue or irritability, which might make the headache feel even more intense.

Nausea: Sometimes, the headache is accompanied by nausea, especially if the gas buildup is severe and affects digestion.

Sensitivity to Light or Sound: In some cases, gas-induced headaches can trigger sensitivity to light or sound, similar to what you might experience with a migraine.

If you are experiencing frequent headaches along with digestive issues such as excessive gas, it may be time to consult a Top Gastroenterologist in Ghaziabad, like Dr. Manish Gupta, to rule out any underlying gastrointestinal conditions.

Home Remedies for Headache Due to Gas:

While it’s always advisable to seek medical advice if your headaches persist, there are several home remedies you can try to alleviate the discomfort of gas-related headaches:

1. Ginger Tea: Ginger is a well-known digestive aid. It can help reduce bloating and gas in the stomach, thus preventing the headache from occurring. Boil a few slices of ginger in water and sip it throughout the day for relief.

2. Peppermint Tea: Peppermint has antispasmodic properties that can help relax the muscles of the stomach and intestines, thereby reducing gas and bloating. Drinking peppermint tea or chewing sugar-free peppermint gum can help ease symptoms.

3. Warm Compress on the Head: Applying a warm compress or heating pad to your forehead or the back of your neck can help reduce tension headaches caused by gas buildup. The warmth may help relax the muscles and ease discomfort.

4. Stay Hydrated: Dehydration can worsen headaches. Drinking plenty of water throughout the day helps flush out excess gas and reduces the chances of dehydration-induced headaches.

5. Avoid Trigger Foods: If you have identified specific foods that trigger gas buildup, avoid them. Common culprits include carbonated beverages, dairy, beans, and cruciferous vegetables like broccoli and cauliflower.

6. Over-the-Counter Antacids: If your headache is accompanied by indigestion or acid reflux, over-the-counter antacids may provide relief from the bloating and gas, which in turn can alleviate the headache.

7. Gentle Exercise: Mild physical activity, like walking, can help promote digestion and alleviate gas buildup. Regular exercise can also help reduce the frequency of headaches by improving overall digestion.

When to Consult a Doctor:

If your headaches due to gas are persistent or severe, it’s important to consult a medical professional. Dr. Manish Gupta, a Top Stomach Doctor in Ghaziabad, specializes in diagnosing and treating gastrointestinal disorders. With his expertise, you can receive tailored treatment for both the gas and the headaches it causes.

A comprehensive evaluation may include tests such as endoscopy, stool analysis, or imaging to determine the exact cause of your symptoms. Once the underlying issue is identified, Dr. Gupta can recommend personalized treatment plans to relieve both the gas and headache symptoms.

Conclusion:

Gas-induced headaches are a common, yet often overlooked, issue that can significantly affect your quality of life. Understanding the causes and symptoms of these headaches, along with effective home remedies, can help you manage and reduce discomfort. However, if you find that your headaches are persistent or accompanied by other digestive problems, it’s always best to consult with a Top Gastroenterologist in Ghaziabad like Dr. Manish Gupta at the Gastro, Liver & Endoscopy Center.

Don’t let gas-related headaches hold you back – take charge of your health and find the relief you need today!