#god of a regional delicacy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kararisa · 5 months

Text

darling, starling

— 16. wine-stained lips — ✦ (wc: 0.9k)

Dandelion wine is a delicacy in the heart of Mondstadt, renowned as not only the best-seller of the region’s finest Dawn Winery but also as Venti’s favorite wine. The golden-colored drink has a flavor similar to mead, adorned with a subtle undertone of honeyed sweetness. While you’ve had the pleasure of sharing a glass or two with friends, you’ve never downed a full bottle.

Though that notion certainly changed today.

It’s a scene you're familiar with: dimmed lights, faint music, you and Scaramouche on the couch, sipping on glass after glass of wine. You were talking to him about... something. Was it the wine or the concert? It was something stupid, you know that much, because Scaramouche simply sneered at your comment and drank more of his wine.

The first night Scaramouche graced Inazuma with his presence after years away was spent here in this very living room. You and your friends had downed glass after glass, catching up after an eventful dinner.

Now, nine months have passed since he came back. It’s just you and him here. All alone.

Not that it’s a bad thing, at least in your book. The conversation isn’t boring, being able to flow much more smoothly with the help of the wine. And the skinship isn’t half-bad either. His hand has been resting on your knee for a bit, and your side has been pressed close to his for however long the two of you have been seated on this sofa.

It’s just the two of you here. There isn’t a need to keep up appearances.

"So, Scaramouche," you make your hand into a fist like you're holding a microphone. "How does it feel to be dating the Zenith?"

"No comment."

You pout, "The crowd's not gonna like that; you're not giving them anything to latch on to."

"Then I say that it's none of their business."

After a moment, you shrug, "Better than nothing I guess."

The two of you were bound to be hounded by reporters eventually, so you've taken to shooting him question after question in the guise of a journalist looking for some juicy gossip.

His answers could use some work, you could say that much.

"Our sources say you were at Windborne's concert tonight. What can you say about their music?" you hold out your invisible mic.

"It was alright."

You're getting annoyed at his clipped responses. "Don't lie, you enjoyed their concert," you swirl your glass before taking a sip. "I saw you smiling when I was on stage."

"Again, I was only there because of you," he retorts. "You perform really well when you're in front of a crowd. Like you belong there."

You likely would have blushed even more if the wine hadn't run its course, "Stop trying to butter me up. You're already dating me."

“We’re not even dating. And I’m only telling the truth — you were born for the stage,” he murmurs the next part so softly that you almost miss it. ”I like seeing you perform.”

You choose not to acknowledge the fact that you heard that last sentence, opting instead to drain the remnants of your glass. Its nectarine sweetness gives you comfort, a fleeting refuge from the tension in the air. With your glass now empty, you slowly swiveled to face Scaramouche, your heart racing, and your senses on high alert.

He was already looking right at you, seemingly closer than he was just a moment ago. HIs usually neat hair was now disheveled, a subtle blush graced his cheeks, and gods were his eyes always this pretty?

You lean closer to him, purely to take a closer look at his pretty face and most definitely not for any other reasons. The red eyeliner he usually wears is smudged at the wing, his hand that was once on your knee is now resting on your arm. You're still holding your empty wine glass, spinning it in your fingers while Scaramouche inches impossibly closer. Is the warmth spreading across your body coming from where he's touching you or have you had just one glass too many?

Honesty, you can't bring yourself to care with the way he looks at you. Maybe that's the real source of the heat.

“It’s just you and me here,” you drag your fingertips across his collarbone, a teasing trail that lingers on his shoulder. “No need to get so close.”

“Give it a rest,” he mumbles, voice slurring slightly. “Like you said, it’s just us. So shut up.”

“Make me.”

He leans in closer, ever closer, and presses his wine-stained lips onto yours. Time still as your hand, which was once wrapped around your wine glass, lets it slip from your fingers. You hear a soft thud as it finds its place on your carpet, but your attention is somewhere else entirely.

His hands, soft and warm, find their way to your waist and pull you closer. The taste of wine and the scent of his cologne threaten to intoxicate you further.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss. A soft, breathless sigh escapes you, and you feel one of his hands moving to the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine. You grip his shoulder tighter in an attempt to anchor yourself while the rapid beating of your own heart echoes in your ears.

Scaramouche breaks away from the kiss for a moment to catch his breath. And you see nothing but want and need and desire in his eyes. He kisses you over and over again, each one more desperate than the last.

It’s just the two of you here — you let the world fall away as you start to run your fingers through his hair, a soft groan escaping him as you do this. Nothing else could matter in this moment.

And you’d kiss him all night if he’d let you.

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: nothing more than a mistake made in the heat of the moment. that's all it is, and that's how it should be. but perhaps there's more than meets the eye

taglist — currently OPEN:

@aestherin @unsterblich-prinz @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @syriiina @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @fangygf @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @nillajhayne @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @lilybythevalley @only-cherry-blossom @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @n3r0-1417 @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @mamafly @duckyyyx @certified-shrimp @kgogoma @xtobefreex @mechanicalbeat1 @meidnightrain @nordicbananas @feiherp @erzarq @nnasv

269 notes · View notes

lovelykhaleesiii · 1 year

Note

hi, other half, I've came to beg you to write some smutty thing for me. You once posted sth about riding Aegon's belly and yOU BITCH, I HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO STOP THINKING ABOUT IT SINCE THEN. So I'm begging you, queen of chubby!aegon, to write something about getting off on Aegon's fat belly (and u know the details, i know u do bc we share the same mind).

i love u, please and thank u🤍🥺

I LOVE YOU! and whoopsie, I can't help it if my thotty thots overtake your mind <3 lord have mercy, I really took my time with this one boo, like I actually lost myself AHAHA you know what they say, great minds think alike :))) hope you enjoy lovely x

Satisfied, Yet?

PAIRING: chubby!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader.

WORDS: 2,464.

WARNINGS: NSFW, slight mention of fatphobic comment, thigh/stomach riding, p in v sex, swearing.

Since being anointed as King, Aegon's life had altered drastically. Most of these changes not only seeped into his political stance in the realm, or in his dutiful role of upholding social responsibilities, although in his physicality, too. Since, having been betrothed to Aegon from his long, before days as Prince till now, you'd been front row and center to all these unfolding changes...

Nonetheless, at the very least you were quite absorbed in all the theatrics, particularly relishing in your husband's growing figure.

Aegon had always been an envoy to gluttony since his youth, his habits had only recently begun to swell from a boy's meager appetite into a man's. Since his coronation, Aegon, with you loyally by his side, had been invited and exposed to plentiful feasts, tourneys, banquets and celebrations in honor of his succession, with copious amounts of succulent roasts, pastries, sweets, treats and wine, that could fulfillingly feed the entire realm thrice. It was inevitable that such a habit of glutton would overtake…

Although you modestly dined in moderation, Aegon often found himself feasting, ravishing through the delectable flavours each region of the realm had to offer to their newly appointed King, eagerly hoping to appease his Grace. As time went on, you found that his table manners had become wilted, as he’d often lost focus, disengaging in conversations, too enraptured by gorging himself on the delicacies offered to him by his meek subjects. You’d even occasionally witness him satisfyingly licking the tasteful grease off of his now thick, pudgy fingers, savoring the sacred moment, as his other free hand massaged his full, distended belly.

In doing so, and unknowing to Aegon’s own naked eye, his appetite grew just as rapid as his waistline. His grandsire, the Hand, Otto Hightower, often eyed the King with disgust although, so long as Aegon showed up to such meaningful events, he did not protest. Nor did the Dowager Queen, Alicent, for she grew weary and apprehensive to provoke Aegon, now that he was King. Thus, no one dared to fuss.

If you were being frank with yourself, you intently observed Aegon’s newly found habits, not in a parallel way to his grandsire, although with lust. Aegon’s appetite was what you’d believed, fit for a King. The repercussions of this, you reaped bashfully, as you gradually watched your beloved husband's figure swell. He maintained muscle, through occasional combat training and flights with Sunfyre, although now a visible layer of fat had grown all over, padding the muscle beneath. His legs, once modestly average sized, had now grown to be as thick as tree trunks, along with his bulky biceps and forearms to match. Although the centerpiece of attraction was his abdominal region, now protruding over his hidden waistline, the soft flesh hung, resting over his stocky thighs whenever you found him lounging.

Gods be good, was it a mission to remain incessantly composed for hours when you were present to spoil your longing eyes upon your dear husband sprawled comfortably upon the Iron Throne… He’d grown into the seat, the fat of his thighs digging into the edge, subtly hanging over its edge, as he just managed to fit in. The image was stupendously ingrained into your brain, and the only thoughts that you could muster were sinful.

Nonetheless, Aegon remained oblivious to the venereal effect his appearance was having on you…

****

“Fuck-” Aegon frusturatingly huffed.

“What is it, my love?” You concerningly question. Slowly closing the pages of your novel that rested against your lap, as you turned to face your husband, you had been greeted with an exasperated Aegon, his plump cheeks reddened from all the bustling noises you’d mindlessly heard in the background whilst reading.

“It seems I am in need of a new fitting. I have been struggling to button these trousers on, dearest, not to mention how uncomfortably tight they now feel,” Aegon sulkingly protested. You carefully watched on, as you witnessed Aegon curiously pondering over his reflection in the mirror of your shared compartment. The pantaloons he’d been whining about, he’d just managed to dress, although remained loose and unsecured where it should have been buttoned and fitted. Instead, his portly belly hung low, his flesh engulfing over the opening and seams of the pants.

“Be honest before the Gods dearest, have I grown?” Aegon uttered, as he turned to face you sharply, his hands gliding over his swollen belly, as the one squeezed the mold of fat over where his ribs lay protected beneath.

“I-uh, I do not know what you mean, dearest. Y-You look fine,” You meekly respond, unable to maintain direct eye contact, once Aegon was done sizing himself down, returning his gaze unto you. A stern look had brewed across his face, as you lowered your head to the book on your lap, fiddling with its torn edges.

“Do not toy with me, Y/N. Be honest, at the very least, I command that you speak the truth before your King. Have I grown…fat?” A distaste apparent in his stern voice, Aegon looked upon you with fretful eyes.

Your reluctant gaze had softened with adoration. You did not wish for Aegon to feel even the slightest tinge of shame for his change, nor did you want him to think it possible, that you were revolted by the very sight of your husband.

“Y-You may have grown somewhat in size, but Aeg, that does not mean I love you any less. No lesser, than the day my maiden eyes had laid upon you.”

Although you spoke warmly of the truth, Aegon refused to believe. Disapprovingly shaking his head in protest, he tore his attention away from you, avoiding eye contact as his glistening, lilac eyes had now wandered to the ground beneath his feet. His hands nervously gliding up and down the sides of his thick thighs, as he slowly seated himself down over the edge of the bed, an audible creak of the wooden frame fracturing the silence.

“People must look upon us, and feel pity unto you, my wife. For look at the ‘hog’ she has now binded herself to-”

“Aegon, please-” You firmly interjected, racing over towards your husband, as you gracefully knelt before him, your hands now appearing tiny, sprawled against his large thighs, gripping the flesh for stability.

“Aeg, look at me-” Your hand reached over, tugging at his fatty chin to redirect his attention solely onto you.

“They-” Your fleeting eyes darting towards the shut door and back towards him, indicating to the world beyond.

“-should not matter. I would never say such vile things, nor could I ever think of you like that.”

Aegon remained chillingly quiet, although you’d faintly glimpsed a sudden glint in his eyes, as his fixed attention lingered over your soft lips.

“Prove it.”

His sudden words took a solid few seconds to register in your mind, before you’d fathomed its meaning. Prove so, how?

You knew exactly what was required of you. Your readiness for this moment had been stirring amid the quiet moments against the bustle and haste, of the banquets and festivities you’d both attended, that you often found yourself reservedly pondering in your own lustful thoughts, envisioning many things…

“Sit properly on the bed,” You boldly uttered, as you stood yourself up, pushing yourself up from Aegon’s knees, leaning yourself ever so slightly forward that the evident cleavage in your tightly fitted gown were brazenly displayed to Aegon, as you stood swiftly. It made you innocently chuckle seeing Aegon smacking his juicy lips in response, as he strugglingly shuffled himself atop the bed, right towards the center of the wooden headboard. His large, rough hands steadily rubbed against the tight fabric of his thighs in anticipation for what was to come, as he intently observed you from afar.

Both your undivided attention remained mutually onto each other: a faint, tender smile appearing on your face, as you noticed the hunger in Aegon’s eyes [mildly similar to how he gushed over the plated feasts], a smirk beaming across his face.

Slowly walking over towards him, you’d managed to hike the front of your dress up sensually, before crawling atop the bed, only to find yourself straddling your beloved husband. Your legs had been stretched out broadly, accommodating for his wider frame, as his stomach pushed against the sensitive region of your lower abdomen and entrance. Gods, did his thighs feel so tender and soft beneath your ass, as you comfortably lowered yourself down, readjusting your position. Your arms instinctively stretch over towards his neck line, as your fingers begin to tangle and pull on the platinum, short strands from behind.

It seemed the warm, tense friction of your body against Aegon’s was already beginning to stir the new King, pleasantly.

Closing in the distance between your faces, as your moist lips teasingly hovered over his plump ones.

“You want me to prove it, baby… So be it,” You softly whispered, the warmth of your breath Aegon had inhaled, unable to remain patient, the young King pushed his mouth against yours, his tongue shoving its way through in exchange for a long, passionate kiss. Somehow, his pudgy hands had managed to find their way towards your backside, roughly squeezing the flesh of each cheek, you were certain his fingerprints would remain evident.

Almost in tune to a rhythm, you began to pace yourself in a loop, slowly rocking forwards and back against the thin fabric of Aegon’s strained pants, your body shoving in deeper towards his distended belly, before leaning back to give him some momentary relief.

“Mhmm,” Aegon lowly moaned, as one hand remained glued to your tender ass cheek, whilst the other snaked its way firmly behind your back, his rough hand gripping your neck, his thick fingers entangled in your hair, as he massaged the base of your head.

“You have no idea what you’ve done to me, seeing you become this-” You breathlessly whimpered, as you tore apart your lips from his to speak.

Aegon sensed the sincerity in your tone, and the soft, pleasing look in your eyes, as you ached for him. You could’ve sworn he could physically feel the throbbing sensation pulsating from your moist cunt, against the soft flesh of his full gut.

“And what is it that I have done? What is it that you wish to do to me, my sweet, sweet angel?”

Your pace had subtly quicked, briefly feeling Aegon trying to align your cunt to his cock, he undoubtedly was not expecting your next move.

Insisting Aegon to recline himself further back into a semi-fowler position, the plentiful, fluffed cushions supporting his heavy mass in conjunction to the solid headboard hidden beneath. You swiftly shuffled yourself further up his body, thrusting yourself forward with enough momentum that you now sat atop, straddling his doughy, bloated stomach beneath. Your hands now gripping dearly onto his broad, dense shoulders, nails digging into the cloth-like fabric of his white shirt, as you further continued to thrust against him, riding his flesh beneath deeply and vigorously.

“Fuck, Y/N-” He growled, as his grip remained strained onto your hips, as they rhythmically bucked forwards and back, desperately riding in deeper into his mass.

“See-uh-See, what you’ve done to me, this, all of this-” You squeeze a little more into the flesh of his skin, pulling at the fat that embodied your husband, signifying his tremendous growth. Your moistened cunt began to coat his pale, soft skin stripped with reddened marks and stripes all along his sides and below, with your sweetness, as his shirt hiked up against your movements.

“L-Look, my King, look at exactly what you’ve done to m-me-” You bashfully utter, as your spine instinctively arches, the collision and smacking of your skin against his continued to be heard in such close proximity, only muffled by either of your mindless moans and grunts. Nestled between your lower cunt and backside, you could feel something poking through, Aegon’s thick cock beginning to swell, feeling its pulsating urge beneath the strained fabric, the incessant need to shove itself inside of you grew with each movement.

“Hmmf-” Aegon’s heavy, volatile breathing grew rapidly: as he ate himself to swell, his efforts became strained, often catching him huffing and puffing after hiking up a dense flight of stairs.

“Come on, Aegon- I-I’m so close already-” You stutteringly whimper, sensual moans mindlessly interrupting your words. Now your wetness began to lubricate his succulent, fleshy skin entirely, as your cum pooled beneath, making your movements easier, gliding over his portly stomach. Where his lean pecs had once been, now a thick layer of adipose mounted over: one hand remained gripped to his shoulder, desperate for the stable support, whilst the other firmly cupped and squeezed at his enlarged, swollen pec. The roughness of your touch against the sensitive site, scored a loud plea for your name from his lips, that momentarily left your lifted breasts, before resuming to suckle on your soft skin.

“Prove me wrong, baby. Prove me so fucking wrong-” Aegon groaned and moaned desperately, his grip remained firm as he tried desperately to shove you down deeper into his body.

Instantly, you felt your pulsating cunt drench his swollen, soft belly as you pleasantly cried out, moaning Aegon’s name like a banshee in the night. His cock beneath you twitched in response, some moistness had brewed and seeped beneath its place, for it seemed Aegon was just as close to pumping, making a mess of himself. Although, as surprisingly swift as he could be for his size, Aegon thoroughly knew his way around your body, despite the changes to his own. His pants already undone from before, he could easily lift you up momentarily, pulling it down further enough for his bare cock to protrude through, aggressively shoving himself into you as you now remained atop. His thick cum coating your inner walls, as his veiny, fat cock grazed over your sweet spot, whilst your walls clenched on his thick cock.

“Fuck, baby-” He subtly mouthed, as he prompted himself further up, although his belly innately blocking his way, as he tried to lean over towards your own feeble body. The pace of your breathing now in sync with his, as your heated bodies lunged over towards one another for support, he held your weak self in his bulky arms, Aegon’s dense cock still remained inside of you, its strong pulse echoing from within your walls.

“Satisfied, yet?” You helplessly pant, as you reluctantly pull yourself out of Aegon, repositioning yourself laying, nestled by his side.

“I guess I should hold back on training for a little while longer, I wouldn't want to lose this figure, if that’s what I’ll be expecting, dear wife.”

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #TGC #chubby!Aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen imagines #aegon ii targaryen imagine #aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon ii targaryan fanfiction #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon ii targaryen fluff #aegon ii targaryen angst #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x fem!reader #chubby!Aegon ii targaryen #chubby Aegon ii #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #hotd imagines

439 notes · View notes

bunnyuki · 5 months

Text

UNSAID WORDS. toge inumaki

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ) gift for: @darlingspeach

CW!! AFAB READER, she/her pronouns. au fantasy/medieval. toge is a dragon, reader is a human. mentions of slaughtering/people dying/hunting. mentions of blood and injuries. he doesn't understand much of human language. this is very short and silly, i apologize. SFW, FLUFF.

YOU DON’T SEE as many dragons around as you used to. the kings of the earth and the heavens were destroyed by greed. their wings were struck by spears and cannons, their blood was collected and tested as a product. the rich wear their scales at dinner parties, because they become necklaces and delicacies. their teeth became hunters’ trophies. dragons had nothing against humanity, but humans had a desire to have everything. their ruin brought that of other peoples.

and so, the remaining dragons fled. running from the world, choosing the loneliest places to call home. deprived of reliable companions, of their companions with wings, dealing with the losses of their loved ones. nothing was left for them but memories and bones. so disappeared that they became merely legends.

fantastic stories that parents told their children to amaze them, or scare them. false and lying stories for merchants desperate to sell their products cheaply. one of the strongest, most influential and powerful races in the world. reduced to nothing more than tales. a small belief spread among the dragons. humans were dirty. rotten, spoiled. disgusting creatures that cared about nothing. the sick apple that would rot the rest of the basket. by extension, hatred for those creatures that had barely sustained themselves for a century grew. humans who encountered dragons and their treasures did not come out alive to tell the story. and no one heard from them again.

life in a village is not easy. taxes are merciless, and nobles drown in champagne while families in your village count coins to find out if they can eat. you are not exempt from this. the marquis who controls the region is obsessed with more amounts of money. the village has been going through difficulties, and with winter approaching, some have already said their goodbyes. people will die. that is a fact. for the king and his court, nothing more than numbers.

the sweet embrace of death comes to seek everyone, eventually. this is the mortal life. but that’s not how you’ll end up. huddled in a bed, on a cold morning, praying to a god who wouldn’t listen to you. you refuse. that will not be your end.

plantings have been disappointing. food becomes scarcer every day, and from what it looks like, this will be a year with lots of snow and abundant hunger. and for this reason, a good deal of adapted hunting became the main source of food and income.

the local forests are dark, specks in the middle of nowhere that is your village. full of trees and animals that need to hide from people like you. like a squirrel collecting dried fruit and nuts. all you have is a rusty knife, a crossbow with five arrows, and faith. not in god, not in greater forces. all you need is yourself.

the traps you planted exist in strategic points. hidden by grass and branches, abusing the natural environment to create the illusion of safety. merely for a noose to tighten around the body of a small animal, or a bear trap to bend into a cruel bite.

checking the traps daily has become part of the routine. just as many other villagers were forced to adapt, so were you. the skins are usually removed and worn by you. or sold.

instead of finding a small animal split in half by your bear trap, what’s in front of you now is a boy. a young one. maybe your age. his purple eyes seem to contain decades of wisdom you couldn’t dream of. his hair has an abnormal tone, like a very pale shade of blonde. he turns over and groans, his ankle caught in the trap. the metal teeth dig deeper into the flesh every time he moves, and the blood is thick and red.

but what really draws attention to him are his horns. and the tail. highs rising from the forehead and rising, white like the snow that will soon fall, with purplish tips. the same pattern for the long, tail full of scales. his nails are sharper than normal. when he opens his mouth to groan in pain, his teeth look like fangs. around his mouth, there's a strange pattern that doesn't seem to be a painting, but his skin. snake eyes and fangs.

he raises his arms to try to open the trap and free himself. the skin on the forearms has traces of scales of the same whitish tone.

his first instinct seeing you is hissing. actual hissing. like a scared snake, ready to pounce. the reaction of a scared, injured animal. you— pity him.

of course, you shouldn't. legends about dragons make it very clear what they think of your species. this boy would make you a forgotten corpse once he had the chance. but that didn't seem true. he was scared. alone, lost. his ankle caught in a trap that hurt more every moment. contrary to common sense, you choose to put the beast down and follow your instinct. approaching slowly, with your hands raised.

“easy there.” another hiss. it's a clear message. stay away. your steps are slow and you show that you are not holding any weapons. “i'm not going to hurt you. i'll help.”

no matter how sweet and loving you force your voice to be, the distrust in his eyes doesn't go away. you crouch before the stranger, staring for a moment. he is a pretty boy. you can't deny that.

your hands grip the bear trap, and you look him in the eyes. “I'm going to open this, and you're going to take your foot off. all good? on three. one. two. three.”

at the end of the count, you muster the strength your hungry muscles allow you to open the bear trap. the stranger quickly understands the message and moves away from it, allowing you to let the metal go without consequences. his hands release the trap, and it closes again with a click. the metal resonates as it strikes itself. there is fresh blood on his fingers and on the trap, and his face turns to look at the boy.

he's sitting by a tree, grabbing his injured ankle with a groan. you approach slowly again, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“hey. hey, i'm not going to hurt you. okay? i promise. just let me help.” he frowns at your words, his lips parting to reply in a language you do not know. oh, well. this can be complicated.

“i don't— i don't understand.” you pause, moving to sit besides him. he furrows his brows, but doesn't say a word. “can you understand what i am saying?”

by his pout and frown, you think the answer is no. okay. what to do now, then? you quickly point to yourself, pronouncing your name out loud. then again, slowly. he repeats, the sound beautiful on his tongue. his pronunciation is a little bad at first, but the third time he's repeating it, he seems to have understood.

he follows the example, pointing to himself. “toge.” he states, and your eyes narrow.

“toge. okay. i think that's your name. you are injured.” you point out to his ankle, and he stares at you for a moment. if he could speak your language, you are sure he would be sarcastic right now. oh, don't say.

you gesture nervously, trying to sign you wish to help. after almost ten minutes of denying and hesitation, he holds out his injured foot to you. your hands are gentle, and you don't touch the injured area unless you have to. he hisses and groans in pain.

toge stares at you, decided to say something. his lips part, and he sounds confident when he says. “salmon.” you frown.

“what?”

he repeats again. salmon. seaweed. tuna mayonnaise. he only talks about...ingredients? toge is desperately trying to tell you something, confused why you don't understand the message. then it clicks. oh.

“you only know ingredient names. that's all you know in my language.” you murmur. he nods slowly, and you sigh. communicating like this won't be impossible, but it will prove itself as a challenge. but these thoughts are for later. he is injured. because of you.

it's your obligation to help this young dragon — secretly. the people in the village would take every last drop of his blood for gold coins. you'll have to improvise. “okay. uhh. does it hurt much?”

he pauses. “salmon?” another sigh escapes your lips.

this will be complicated.

#[ ♡⃗ ] writing.#jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #inumaki x you #jjk inumaki #jjk fluff #jjk toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #toge inumaki x you

57 notes · View notes

riseofamoonycake · 1 year

Text

Thank you for the request! Hehe I really enjoyed writing it!

War Bringer

⚡ Pairing: Indra x Priestess!reader

⚡ Warnings: mention of death, usurpation, psychological abuse

⚡

Another night of heavy rain.

The portals of the temple, thrown open by gusts of wind and water, have no intention of closing even with the united force of ten priests; motionless, they do not make a creak, as if the hand of a god were holding them.

The cold enters in waves, his hands slimy and cruel that crawl under the high ceilings and between the columns encrusted with gems, slip under the clothes and squeeze the flesh without letting any breathe.

«Cover yourself, you’re almost naked! What are you thinking, Y/N? Find yourself a shelter, here it will be a disaster!»

You recover from your torpor only when a pair of hands shakes you with no delicacy, and you realize that you have been staring at the threshold for very long minutes. Beyond it, in the heart of the storm, shapes and creatures that belong to the world of dreams run and scream; you also see presences and shadows that make you shiver, but at the same time they tickle and ensnare your imagination. You struggle to escape their voice, it is like they are all singing a beautiful tune together and you can’t help but dance.

«Y/N? Y/N, are you listening to me? Are you with us?»

You sigh and slowly shake your head, confused and invaded by so many sensations. The rain has conquered the entrance by now and it is also reaching your hair, your face; in the darkness that is devouring the place it can be clearly seen, thanks to the lightning that has begun to lash the night. It’s not just a downpour, after all.

Your pupils dilate as the thunderbolts chase each other, falling from heaven to earth, and your mouth opens as if to speak: you know something is about to happen, you feel it, it is a sensation that snakes over your skin like a caress, a primal instinct. Something is going to happen, someone is coming.

«You won’t be afraid of a simple storm, will you? My dear children… what would you do without me?»

Everyone, including you, turns their heads towards the figure that has just appeared in the holiest area of the temple, and immediately extends their hands in supplication and kneels in devotion.

With a fluid movement and a cheerful laugh, the god to whom you prostrate every day and every night closes the doors of his abode and chases away the cold, the rain and the thunder, lighting the thousand lamps that populate the structure, gathering around him his pupils and their prayers.

Out of the corner of your eye you see the latest bolt of lightning falling so close to the temple that it shakes the floor; but there is no place for it here.

Not today.

⚡

Few know that the temple in which you are now a priestess once belonged to one of the over a thousand deities far older than those who are now worshiped in the region; gods who dwelt on a high mountain and fought for supremacy, until they were all united under the rule of one of them, and found peace.

There are ancient legends that the people of this land kept repeating, all about these magnificent deities: stories that tell of great powers and fierce battles, of friendships that led to great achievements, of respect. The older ones continue to tell them, in a low voice and thinking that what has passed will never come back; however, every time you hear them from the mouths of your grandparents and parents, a voice inside you replies that what is not forgotten cannot die, and one day it can reappear.

You shouldn’t, you know it: your vows and duties bind you to a god who has nothing in common with these tales, a conqueror ― a usurper, you often hear; but even if you didn’t decide this fate and neither would your family ever wish it for you, you have taken an oath and you will continue to respect it. Either that, or the deaths of everyone you love.

The choice had been proposed to you since you were a child, a few years after the conquest of the region, and you immediately decided to bow to the new gods and serve them up to denying yourself; you could never bear the alternative, and that makes you all the more special in the eyes of the one who awaits your veneration every moment of your slow existence: a little mouse with a big heart is always a coveted prey.

So far, however, nothing bad has ever happened to you: no one, not even those who would have the power to do it, has ever laid a finger on you or demanded what you would not give and do, and therefore you can say that you live quite calmly. You are allowed to visit your family quite often, and in their arms you seek and find all the reassurance you need, as well as a company of friends and acquaintances who are always ready to cuddle you.

For some time, then, one more figure has been added: a man of few words and with an even rarer smile, who keeps all his thoughts hidden or perhaps lets them slip away together with the smoke of the cigarettes that you always see him smoking.

This figure does not present particular features beyond the scarifications on his large chest, intricate labyrinths of light lines, an enormous height and the fact that it can barely see his beautiful eyes under the wavy pale hair; but when he enters your house or appears on the horizon, everyone lowers their voices and gives way to him, and, you noticed, they welcome him by bowing their heads too slowly to be a simple greeting and show him a deep kindness that soon becomes reverence.

Every time you look at him, trying not to appear rude, you frown as you realize that something keeps eluding you: not who he is or where he is from, or why he is here… something deep, still unclear. For some reason, you find yourself thinking that it is right that he is here, necessary; and the more you stare at him, the more you think of an old image that your grandparents keep in their humble home and in front of which they pray continuously: a drawing ruined by time, but which releases flashes of light at every slightest movement ― the same light that emanates from your new visitor’s chest marks.

To start clarifying doubts and feelings, you have to wait for another stormy night, this time even more violent than the others. You are not in the temple, but in your house and in your bed, where you jump as soon as the thunder comes and chases away your light sleep; unable to fall back asleep and filled with a sense of anticipation, you quickly get up and go to the entrance, to make sure no water enters. A sudden impulse prompts you to open the door to peer outside, and amidst the play of lightning and the mythological figures you see appearing every time the rain falls, you see him.

Your legs give out and you fall to your knees as your eyes widen in surprise, but now you realize: there is no one else who could so calmly stand among lightning nor be caressed by it and remain unharmed, because it is he who calls them to himself. The silence that follows each of his appearances, the respect that your family reserves for him, everything takes on its rightful meaning; and you can’t help but lean against the door, your heart pounding in your chest, then run to bed and curl up inside it with your body shaking, until the storm dies down and a new day rises from the horizon, a silent morning without clouds.

Wrapped in your black and white clothes, the austere priestly uniform that suffocates every color of the soul, you leave the house knowing where to go; the god is still there where you saw him, with his mind and thoughts fixed on a new thunderstorm, probably; but he hears you coming anyway, and calmly turns to look at you. «Very strange: it’s not the season of the swallows. It’s very early, little bird, you could sleep a little longer.»

You don’t know how you can speak, or where your courage comes from; but you do it anyway, kneeling and prostrating yourself on the ground, heedless of staining your clothes and hands with grass and watering them with your own tears. «You are the deity my family never stops praying to. You are the bearer of lightning, the maker of lightning... one of the Hindu gods who ruled the region, the protector of my ancestors.

You are... you are my real lord.»

He doesn’t answer for a long time; first he lets the early morning wind flow over you, then he takes a deep breath and lifts you off the ground with one hand, pulling you so close to him you can see the tangle of gleams in his eyes. «Remember, swallow: I am not one of the Hindu gods. My name is Indra, the God of Lightning; and I’m back.»

⚡

Pay attention to the God of Lightning, the fearsome Indra

He’ll come one day, one day he’ll come;

He will reduce the false to ashes,

He will raise the truth.

Indra loves to go back to his first home. He clearly remembers every corner of the region, every tree that populates it and every bend that twists the rivers, and sometimes nostalgia is felt with cruelty: unlike the other gods, he has never willingly accepted the conquest by the others. Of course, his faithful still live in this land and they know how to hide well and give him the right honors, and the song he is now hearing ― an ancient and martial rhythm that the wind cannot overcome, a great proof of faith and loyalty ― proves it; but he will never be able to forget the sight of the temples torn from his cult or destroyed, of his priests forced to choose whether to renounce their devotion to him or to die, of his name insulted and mocked.

Fury, fury!

There are decisions before which even the strongest gods must bow their heads and accept, but this exceeds his capacity to bear: and often in his silence envy and desire for revenge stir, ready to be fulfilled but kept dormant until the most appropriate.

The prayers of those who have not forgotten him and are brave enough to continue calling have not left the god indifferent, even urging him to return to the land where it all began: and the hour of blood is approaching fast. The time has come, because Indra is a very patient but rarely forgiving deity, because Indra lives on pride and strength ― and on jealousy.

Actually, it is the first time that the God of Lightning has this feeling: because it was born with you, as soon as you appeared in his existence. Y/N… a gust of spring, a ray of light. Young and devoted, kind and ready to sacrifice yourself for those you love, the shape of your soul filled the deity with desire; such great innocence and dedication, enclosed in the body of a wren with a sweet smile... which, however, is not addressed to him, because someone has already reached out to you and holds you tightly in his clutches.

You are the reason why your family desperately begged for Indra’s help and intervention; you are what set everything in motion and prompted him not to return but to stay, to become a guest of your family and the father of a burning, stinging and tormenting impulse every time he sees your gaze light up when you look at him or he watches you embrace your loved ones, and in the meantime he notices the shadow that hangs over your person.

That shadow knows the god well and for this very reason it grins, laughs at him, knows that there are rules that up to now have protected its actions, and pulls you back, away, every time you try, even unconsciously, to approach him. It is with you in every word, gesture and look you two exchange; you can hear it, but Indra also feels it inside and becomes a roar, furious and fearful at the same time: you are not far from danger with someone who doesn’t care about your life at all ― and at the same time, you are not allowed to get close to who, instead, of your existence would make it a treasure. This, this drives Indra mad with rage and terrible thoughts.

Deceptions are being plotted behind your back, false truths are waiting: what if you start believing them? Not only would your family’s prayers be in vain, but he would lose you forever. And he can’t accept this, neither for you nor for his pride. No, someone else will have to give in.

No, it will be someone else who will be silenced, who will lose everything.

«Lord Indra...»

Your hesitant and light voice, fresh as a raindrop, pushes him to close his eyes and also loosens the strength of the martial songs that invites the god to battle.

And you, war bringer, will you answer the voice of your own fear?

Your soft, warm body darts under his hands as he wraps his arms around you and tucks your face under his chin, cradling you gently.

Jealousy. How could he accept to see you in hands other than his?

Jealousy. It will consume him, or he will bend reality to his will.

«Do not fear for yourself or for your loved ones, everything will soon be over. Don’t you hear the songs? For too long I’ve ignored them... but now I can’t anymore.»

You squirm, release yourself from his grip and turn to look into his eyes, a pleading light in yours. «My lord… you are protecting me, but I am a nullity! Don’t go to war for me, I’m not worth it, I... I’m...»

Indra stares at you as if he were going to burn you to ashes, then he grabs you and lifts you up to his face, where only tranquility emerges. Inside, hell. «Then who do I go to battle for? I was wrong about you, are you a nullity? Or is that what they want you to believe?» Jealousy, jealousy.

You swallow, not controlling your tears. «I’m afraid…», you murmur, unable to hold back any longer, «I’m…»

The God of Lightning gently shakes and silences you, then hugs you again. Your hands rest on his chest and immediately move away, feeling the power of a terrible storm flowing under your fingers, the most devastating a man has ever seen.

«I promise you: anyone who dares to touch you will suffer the most horrible of deaths. Trust the words of your god: his wrath will be insatiable.»

Trembling, you hug his neck and bury your face in the space between it and his shoulder, letting out a long sob. «As my lord commands. I will wait for you.»

You feel him stroking your hair gently, then the deity repeatedly kisses your forehead and eyes, and finally the lips. You stiffen and let out a muffled scream as you feel a jolt go through you and one corner of your cheek starts to throb and burn as if it’s been slapped. It is none of that, but something deeper: victory starts here.

«I’ll break your cage, little swallow. Just wait for me, and take good care of your new mark.»

The caress with which he greets you is the most delicate you have ever received, and your fingers do everything to keep that contact. With your cheek radiating warmth and your vision clouded by tears that are so full of worry, but also of a promise of happiness, you watch your lord walk away towards the battle that the whole region invokes and you sit on the ground, waiting.

The scar that marks your face dances on the skin denoting that, whatever happens ― and inside you already know who will be the winner: his energy, his implacability, his jealousy will lead him to glory ―, now you are free: you don’t have to be afraid anymore.

#record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv x reader #ror x reader #ror indra #Record of ragnarok indra #snv indra #Shuumatsu no valkyrie indra #record of ragnarok request

164 notes · View notes

sincerely-nines · 2 months

Note

I had a dungeon meshi and dr.stone inspired ranchers au... I called it delicacies and dungeon masters (its jimmy, Jimmy is the delicacy)

Jimmy was a young aspiring chef from the cuisine guild who just got his license to open his own restaurant, but just buying the rundown burnt down building for it cost him everything, so he gets his ingredients through hunting and foraging...

Except hes just a little tasty avian with not adventuring or monster hunting experience and so he gets his butt kicked and almost eaten by scary monsters...

Until he finds a little fire freak with terrifyingly sharp teeth passed out in the woods and gives him his food. They get attacked by skeletons, Tango kills them, and Jimmy makes a tasty dinner of their marrow and the fungus that animates them, and it's the tastiest thing Tango's ever eaten because the man does not eat anything but burnt porkchops.

Anyways, Tango declares his undying loyalty to Jimmy and promises to make him all the cool equipment and work at his restaurant and help him hunt monsters in exchange for being fed tasty meals.

Also he has a pet ravager and he can turn blue and did he mention he was the dungeon master of that evil castle looking over the entire region? No? No. He didn't and he keeps forgetting to. Jimmy has thr BBEG making him a refrigerator and he doesn't know it. Also he keeps almost chomping on Jimmy and has to save him from being eaten by the monsters they hunt while using him as bait.

There is also a tavern and brewery run by dwarf impulse, gem, and oli, a high class fancy restaurant run by scott, pearl, and cleo, a street vendor run by scar, and a guild quality ensurer/food critic in avian Grian who always gives restaurants terrible reviews (who def does not completely cave if given a slab of mixed seed suet)

Came up with a bunch of recipes using minecrafts mobs

Really it was about Jimmy waking up with Tango's shark teeth too close to his through.

THIS IS SO GOOD OH MY GOD!! i have been meaning to check out Dungeon Meshi and my brother has been bugging me to watch Dr. Stone so this might be the final push. I also just. REALLY love fantasy food a lot, i spend a lot of time in games just cooking food lol. im really curious on the recipes youve come up with. I also love that. Jimmy is just so tasty that he's used as bait. (Tango would know) And yes, housewife Jimmy and his husband, the BBEG. This is MY definition of domestic fluff.

#this is my dream version of that one show where one guy hunts and the other guy forages and then they cook with that #also tango only having eaten burnt porkchop is so silly but so real #oughhh theyre so silly i love this so much #this is hitting a niche i forgot i absolutely adore #team rancher

20 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 8 days

Text

If you want to understand how China abuses its power on the world stage, consider the lobsters. After the Australian prime minister called in April 2020 for an international investigation into the origins of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Chinese ambassador to Australia, Chen Jingye, ominously hinted at the economic backlash. “Maybe the ordinary [Chinese] people will say, ‘Why should we drink Australian wine? Eat Australian beef?’” he told the Australian Financial Review. It and other outraged statements from the Chinese government had all the subtlety of a mafia capo wandering into the neighborhood deli and saying, “Nice little business you got here—shame if anything happened to it.”

In the weeks and months that followed, China instituted onerous import inspections on Australian rock lobsters and instituted new bans on timber and barley shipments from Australia. Given that in 2018 and 2019, China had accounted for about 94 percent of the Australian rock lobster market, the new trade restrictions were clearly meant to devastate the country’s lobster industry.

China also invoked punishing tariffs on Australian wine—tariffs that in some cases reached 212 percent—and exports stopped almost overnight. One winemaker, Jaressa Estates in the South Australian wine growing region of McLaren Vale, had been selling about 7 million bottles a year to China, some 96 percent of its total business, and saw that number drop to zero. “The country’s biggest overseas market vanished almost immediately. Sales to China plummeted 97 percent that first year. Storage tanks overflowed with unsold vintages of shiraz and cabernet sauvignon, pressuring red grape prices,” the New York Times reported. “Now that its economy is entrenched as the world’s second largest, the threat of losing access to China’s 1.4 billion consumers is a stick that few countries or industries can afford to provoke.”

It was a brutal lesson for Australia. As one winemaker told CNN, perhaps Australia shouldn’t be so quick to cross China in the future—and it should have approached questions about COVID-19’s origins with more delicacy. “Australia’s only a little nation. We should have absolutely supported it, but we didn’t need to lead the charge,” the vintner said. All told, Australia saw some $13 billion worth of exports targeted.

Outside the egregious Australian case, China has begun to wield the economic stick more regularly. For example, it halted salmon imports from Norway after the Nobel Peace Prize went to Chinese dissident Lio Xiaobo, punished Taiwan in 2022 with new restrictions on exporting pineapples, apples, and fish, and went after Lithuania when the Baltic country tried to strengthen ties with Taiwan. The wide-ranging Chinese move against Lithuania was unprecedented—extending not to just to obvious products like milk or peat but also against products manufactured with semiconductor chips made in Lithuania. As the New York Times wrote at the time, “China’s drive to punish Lithuania is a new level of vindictiveness.” The consequences for Lithuania were so dire that the German-Baltic Chamber of Commerce reported that the country’s high-tech industry faced an “existential” threat.

The most powerful voices in the global trade discussion largely stayed silent during these attacks. The European Union filed a perfunctory World Trade Organization complaint on Lithuania’s behalf but, as the New York Times reported, “otherwise largely left one of its smallest and weakest members to fend for itself,” and behind the scenes its officials urged Vilnius officials to appease China. “To use a Chinese phrase, they are killing the chicken to scare the monkey, particularly the big German monkey,” one European think tank leader said publicly. “Many European leaders look at Lithuania and say, ‘My God, we are not going to do anything to upset China.’”

And while some U.S. officials held performative tastings of Australian wine, the United States failed to step in to stabilize or support Australia, Norway, Taiwan, or Lithuania. There were no high-profile “Berlin Airlifts” of pineapples to U.S. grocery stores, tanker convoys of Australian Shiraz rolling up the Capital Beltway, or “Buy Baltic” public service announcements to encourage consumers and corporate leaders to look to Lithuanian suppliers. There was no coordinated effort to build a coalition to implement an emergency adjustment of tariffs on Australian wine or lobster, let alone to help the affected industries find new commercial buyers.

Perhaps it’s easy to write off such American reluctance as our own strain of protectionism—maybe the government didn’t want to be accused of undercutting Hawaiian pineapples or promoting foreign competitors to California Zinfadels—but the truth is that even at home the United States has failed to stand up for our industries when China targeted them. We didn’t support American airlines and hospitality companies when China pressured them to remove Taiwan’s name from their maps; nor did the United States government stand up meaningfully for the free speech of NBA players who criticized China.

China is learning, again and again, that bullying works, mastering the 21st-century toolkit of economic statecraft and warfare. As Bethany Allen, a journalist who has covered China for a decade, writes in her book, Beijing Rules: How China Weaponized Its Economy to Confront the World, “If we speak the language of markets … then China hasn’t just learned that language. It has learned to speak it louder than anyone else.” The Chinese Communist Party’s “authoritarian style of state capitalism,” Allen argues, means it “is willing to draw on its full arsenal of leverage, influence, charm, deception, and coercion.” And China has begun to deploy those tools all too frequently—leading to very real questions about whether anyone, companies or nation-states, can afford to be economically reliant on China.

The United States needs to do better—for ourselves and our allies. Strong allies are not going to help only out of self-interest, they’re going to do it because they want to follow their values and principles—and we have to make it easier for countries who want to help us counter China. We need to create an umbrella that shields countries, companies, and individuals when they take on China’s attempts at hegemonic thought and action.

Critical to any global strategy to counter China is building and securing the series of bilateral relationships and multilateral institutions and alliances that helped the West win Cold War I. We have to make it easy for our allies—and desired potential allies—to say yes to such alliances. China is surrounded by many relatively small and weak countries that need real reassurances, both security and economic, that if they side with the United States in a regional coalition they won’t be out in the cold.

Even countries like South Korea, Japan, and Australia that are G-20 countries with advanced economies and trillion-dollar-plus GDPs are small compared to the behemoths like China and the United States, especially if they’re left geopolitically isolated.

Beyond ad hoc responses to pressure on our friends when they stand up to China—especially but not only when they’re acting at our request—the United States needs to figure out a new alliance framework to deter such actions from China in the future. China needs to know that bullying won’t work.

On the security front, there’s little value in the Indo-Pacific in a replacement for SEATO, the 20-year attempt to build a Southeast Asia alliance like NATO that ended in 1977 after never achieving a working military structure. (One British diplomat called the alliance a “zoo of paper tigers.”) Today, too many of the countries across the Indo-Pacific are already protected by bilateral security pacts with the United States to bother joining a larger formal security alliance. For example, given that both Japan and the Philippines have their own security pacts with the United States, it’s not entirely clear what domestic political appetite there would be for, say, the Philippines to be treaty-bound to defend Japan if it’s attacked.

Instead of a military security alliance in the Indo-Pacific, we should be looking to build a new—and global—economic security alliance. America should lead the way in creating a new organization—call it something like the Treaty of Allied Market Economies (TAME), an “economic NATO” alliance of European and Indo-Pacific nations with open-market economies. Together, the partners in this alliance would respond as a unified block to political and economic pressure from China—or any other economic aggressor, for that matter—through a combination of trade barriers, sanctions, and export controls.

In some ways, this alliance would look similar to the coordinated but independent action that the West took in levying unprecedented sanctions against Russia after its Ukraine invasion. As an additional carrot to joining such an alliance, like-minded members could all share increased trade benefits in the form of tariff cuts, regulatory cooperation, and enhanced investment terms.

Beyond formal joint economic punishment of an aggressor, such an alliance could also plan for and commit to repairing and replacing real economic harms that member countries face when hit with retaliatory tariffs or trade wars. Such “trade diversion” often occurs in the market anyway. As one market closes, another opens—and we know that, in part, because of China’s actions against Australia. Markets are adaptable and most goods can flow elsewhere, especially if protectionist tariffs don’t stand in the way. It’s why Australia, for instance, weathered some of China’s aggressive moves better than anticipated. In particular, the Australian coal industry—which was also hit with punishing bans—turned out just fine because coal is such a fungible and high-demand product. “Once China banned imports of Australian coal in mid-2020, Chinese utilities had to turn to Russian and Indonesian suppliers instead. This, in turn, took Russian and Indonesian coal off the market, creating demand gaps in India, Japan, and South Korea—which Australia’s stranded coal was able to fill,” Foreign Policy noted. “The result of decoupling for one of Australia’s core industries was therefore just a game of musical chairs—a rearrangement of who traded with whom, not a material injury.”

One of the reasons that NATO has never had to invoke Article 5 against another nation-state attack—the only time it’s ever been used was after Sept. 11 against al Qaeda—is precisely because of how strong all other countries know the response from the combined NATO force would be.

The same should be true on the economic front. As Daleep Singh, a National Security Council official who helped coordinate the U.S. response to Ukraine, said, “The best sanctions are the ones that never have to get used.” China might very well think twice before weaponizing its trading strength if it understood the combined—and severe—penalties it might face in taking such action and that even if it did launch a trade war, it wouldn’t necessarily inflict much economic harm to begin with.

There’s enough evidence of China’s willingness to inflict economic pain for political gain across Asia and Europe that a well-crafted TAME organization would likely attract a long line of participants—many countries across the globe are becoming increasingly concerned about Chinese belligerent behavior, and there is safety in numbers. While it is unlikely that some large countries with significant economic dependence on China, such as France and Germany, would rush to join this new alliance, states that have already found themselves on the receiving end of Chinese coercion in the past—such as Australia, Norway, Sweden, Japan, the Czech Republic, Lithuania, the Philippines, and Taiwan itself, among others—are prime candidates for initial membership. Over time, as TAME membership grows in numbers, combined economic power, and market size, it will become a magnet too attractive for other market economies to avoid, especially if China continues to engage in brutish bullying tactics around the world.

12 notes · View notes

trivia-witch · 2 years

Text

Food Offerings to Hekate

By Sorita d'Este

Which foods were offered to the Goddess Hekate during rituals?

Sharing food with friends and family is a natural way of bonding and special celebrations, such as birthdays and religious festivals, have particular foods and drinks associated with it. Many of the foods associated with Hekate were given to her as an offering during religious rites, as part of ceremonies petitioning the Goddess or as part of the much talked about deipna (supper) offered to Hekate at the crossroads on the last day of the lunar month (i.e. the Dark Moon).

Many of the foods linked to Hekate in this way were also offered to other deities or formed part of official religious celebrations. For example water, oil and wine were libated to many of the Gods, and sesame was included in offerings to Artemis. Other items, such as the Red Mullet fish which was offered to Hekate, seems to be more specific to this goddess usually because the thing has an exceptional quality which somehow links it with qualities also found in the Goddess. For example, another name for Red Mullet is Triglê, with Tri meaning three being a reference to the belief that this fish spawned three times a year. The fish also had a unique quality of changing to a bright red colour when it was killed, a quality which earned it a place in lavish Roman banquets where it was killed as part of the feast before being cooked (see p.217 of Circle for Hekate, Vol.1).

Many of the foods on this list (first published in Hekate: Her Sacred Fires, 2010) are regional to the regions in which Hekate was worshipped, most formed a part of the diet of the people who lived in the area. Some were rare and considered a delicacy reserved for those with the money to pay for it (including Triglê) while items were part of the staples most people would have had access to. With this in mind remember that you can use the food available to you today as offerings, it does not have to be something from the regions in which she was worshipped to be authentic, the doctrine of signatures can help you identify other local foods. I personally try to grow as many of the offerings I make on my own shrines – flowers, herbs and fruits, in my own garden. Food is also not the only type of offering you can make to the Goddess, I personally also offer incense made from resins, oils and woods, and my time.

FOOD. NOTES

Amphiphon : A flat cheesecake surrounded by torches (candles)

Asphodel : Food for the restless dead

Barley : Both as grain and made into cakes

Basunias : A type of cake

Cheese : As she was sometimes shown with a goat-head, goats cheese might be appropriate

Eggs : Traditionally offered raw, may represent life force

Garlic : A traditional protection from the restless dead since ancient Egypt

Honey : A standard offering to chthonic deities and the restless dead

Magides : A type of loaf or cake of unknown shape and type. Bread could be substituted

Milk : A standard offering to chthonic deities, again goat milk would be appropriate

Mullet : Fish were often included as a sacrifice to her, and mullet was particularly sacred

Olive Oil : A standard offering to chthonic deities

Onion : A traditional apotropaic offering

Psammeta: A sacrificial cake

Sesame : Seeds used in apotropaic Hekate spell

Sprat : Fish were often included in her rites as a sacrifice

Water : A standard offering to chthonic deities

Wine : A standard offering to chthonic deities

Further reading:

Hekate: Her Sacred Fires (various contributors), 2010.

Circle for Hekate, Vol.I, 2018

#food offering to hekate #devotion to hekate #hekate altar #witchcraft #hellenic witchcraft #hellenic pagan #witch community #witches of tumblr #hekate cult #hekate #hellenic witch #hecate #article #grimoire

329 notes · View notes

all-consuming-sea · 13 days

Text

The Shoggoth Snail, also known as the Divided-Tongued Snail (or formally, the Divided Tongued Whispers Who Speaks of Evil Snail) is a semiaquatic gastropod that inhabits the sea and coastal regions, and can be found in particularly high numbers around Tailed settlements, where fishing and other products of civilisation have driven away most of its predators. Larger than many other members of their taxonomic class, Shoggoth Snails feed on dead and decaying matter, including both plants and animal flesh. When threatened, the snail displays a false eye in the back of its head and starts emitting whisper-like gibberish, containing snatches of sound that almost seem coherent as speech. If one listens closely to the snail, attempting to discern its meaning, its sound can produce migraines, hallucinations, temporary psychosis, internal haemorrhage, hydrocephalus or in the most extreme of cases, extreme physical changes and hyperintelligence in the hearer.

In fairy tales and myths of most faiths, the snail is often a nefarious agent who provides bad or malicious advice to the protagonist, never lying directly but bringing about misunderstandings, misplaced confidence, distraction from the protagonist's goal, or similar problems. However, one myth tells that the Shoggoth Snail is one of the most talented students of the Divided, and possesses an eideitic memory of everything that God taught to it, but it is so "incredibly stupid" that it is unable to understand any of what it learned. Thus, it is not affected by its own whispers. In modern times, one can find many rumours of Tailed coming across shoggoth snails that seemingly remember them from encounters years past, acting differently towards the individual depending on how their last meeting went.

Cooked Shoggoth Snails are a delicacy in some settlements, and the emptied shells are often used to decorate Divided temples. Older devotees sometimes attempt to trick those younger, encouraging them to give the snail a listen and glean its secrets. Most agree that this is a joke made in bad taste.

#my art #my writing #fortuna #cosmosdex #tailed #worldbuilding #fauna #divided

6 notes · View notes

meilas · 10 months

Text

Phantom of the Opera Wine List

Your wine sommeliers:

@meilas: Concept, Graphics, Layout, Project Manager, Hadley, Barbara the Mannequin

@gwalchmedi: Franc D’Ambrosio, Norm Lewis, Drew Sarich, Peter Joback, Bronson Norris Murphy, Hugh Panaro, Michael Crawford, Jonathan Roxmouth, Jeremy Stolle, Barbara the Mannequin, Ethan Freeman, Peter Karrie, Dmitry Ermak, Earl Carpenter

inspired by @mxbuster: Uwe Kroger

inspired by @petittneko: Saulo Vasconcelos, Thiago Arancam

@devilswalkingstick: Cooper and triptychs

@when-it-rains-it-snows: Ben Lewis

DocTy: Alexander Goebel

Tina: Gina Beck

@from-aldebaran: Derrick Davis and proof-reader

@therosenpants: proof-reader and taste-tester

@box5intern: Christopher Carl

This wine list could not have turned out so well without the loving dedication of everyone involved. Thank you everyone for putting up with this silly project for so long!

D’Ambrosio Vintage Vintage 1962, best run 1998 Other nicknames: Cabernet Franc; Franc D’Amn that’s good!

Slither yourself down somewhere comfortable and loosen a few buttons while you steal a taste, slowly swirling your tongue around a luscious mouthful of this full-bodied, ambrosial red. Every note stays with you while you are distracted by its elegant looks, get reeled in by a silvery touch, and feel it gliding along your throat. As you swallow, a slow leisurely piquancy reveals a muscular body and delivers a prominent, long, full finish. A total god of a wine. Keeps giving satisfaction long after you have embraced your last glassful.

Bottling notes: The reddest of red wines in the bluest of containers, and the perfect precursor to pants-less pastimes. Comes in our most prominent bottle.

Saulo Vasconcelos, vintage 1999

An epic year for Brazilian wines, this timeless choice has performed in many a fine vintage bottle. A few tastings will assure you that this wine leaves you anything but Miserable, being a bit of a beast in disguise. Delightfully playful, sensuously hands-on with its flavour, and encasing you in its warm, chocolate tones, you’ll find yourself helplessly succumbing to its embrace. A proper, stern Daddy of a wine, this is one for those who like their types mature and commanding. De Nada!

Crémant NormLew Château Tallahassee

A first for a Crémant from this region of Florida, you’ll be getting a plethora of orchard fruits here with delightful baritone notes! Up there with the finest of champagnes, just enjoy how this Crémant gives such a unique expression of its appellation.

Peter Jöback

This fiery Scandinavian grape is a notoriously difficult one to grow well, but prolific once it takes hold, which makes this lovely drop of sleek Swedish red even more impressive! The acidity has a true, tenor register, a light note that is just right for pairings with other Swedish delicacies, I'd say. Very quaffable indeed.

Drew Sarich

With a very young feel to this Veltliner grape, it actually delivers a surprise that is a decade ahead of itself. This wine has a long taste on the tongue, sitting there like a kitten purring in your lap. Delightfully complex, this is a New York socialite of a vintage with a phantasm of aromatic perfume on it which is absolutely phenomenal. It’s fascinating how the acidity is so high that it somewhat devilishly disguises the wine’s natural sweetness.

Dreamclimber from the House of Derrick Davis Two pressings, 2016-2017 and 2019-2020

An astonishingly underappreciated vintage, Dreamclimber will make you abandon your defenses from the very first sip. A potent mix of smooth deep notes of dark oak ranging upward to a soaring sunshiney sweetness, the positive energy in every bottle offers sweet intoxication and will fundamentally alter your outlook on life. The dynamic and passionate essence of Dreamclimber elevates everything around it, so if you need to restage a meal, add this bold and muscular yet soft and sensual wine to your table. Want to stay one step ahead of the crowd? Catch a Broadway-bound dream of a wine and you can say you were among the first to realize its genuine and soul-stirring star power. Dreamclimber has the uplifting soulfulness to take you and your guests to where you long to be!

Bronson Norris Murphy Variety: Babygrapes

The very youngest of our vintages, this wine has brought out excitingly different comments from our patrons. Respected Voices talk knowledgeably either about its Wheel of Flavours, or enjoy a genuine Laugh about how this rush of taste almost knocks them over; still others amongst the cognoscenti talk about its delightfully Icie youthfulness and endearing features, or how a glassful taken at bedtime would counter a Snowy cold evening. One Purist anonymously chuckled that a grape as vigorous as this could be put in more than one setting and still retain its delightful, child-like boyish charms. Two stunningly dressed patrons, in Rose and Cora(l), admitted they’d been given a taste of this wine secretly, a sort of cameo appearance before its launch, and had felt the vibes of the overt rosehip and petal flavours long before it had become popular. The pair’s general consensus was that this vintage was young enough to Make It on the scene, although the coquettish undertones about vinicultural size and handspan were elusively enticing. The Vast Glassy Orangery was agog with gossip about some Baguette-wielding youth (and their noteworthy tailoring) having hugely overdosed on the tasting previously, almost knocking their socks off with its pale beauty and fragrant scents. Their partner in crime, a clear Persephone of a beauty, was wearing delicious couture from the House of ChristineGrrl, and the effect of this duo almost matched the effect of the wine’s heady aroma on the delightfully younger crowd. Suffice to say the vintage was a resounding success and its aura of vinicultural adolescence bursting into manhood held everyone in its attractive grasp. One worth keeping.

Panaro Prosecco

The elevation that every note in this charismatic, versatile Prosecco provides ensures that the bubbles in this Panaro Prosecco are so much lighter than in the flatter and usually insipid Chagny Champagnes to which they are unfairly compared. For me, there is no contest; crystal clear delivery, in a bottle with movie star good looks, this vintage delivers a deliciously singing bouquet, with beautifully crisp notes of apple to finish.

Michael Crawford, vintage 1986

Oh yes, this most venerable of English sparkling wines has a well-rounded palate with a hint of the most delicate, sweetest of orchard fruits giving way to deeper notes of Parisian brioche, with a hint of French kisses. French, I hear you ask - but did you know that English winemakers use the same traditional method that the French use to produce Champagne?

Jonathan Roxmouth, vintage b.1987, run 2011-2012, 2019

Not an easy Chenin Blanc grape variety to like on first encounter, this South African powerhouse has a drawn-out tingle which stays on your tongue, and wanders high into your head. The yearning feel to break out in full fruit mode is hidden beneath the complex mix of earthy, graveyard depths. You may feel the emotional and smoky hint of stalk, but a flash of strength beneath its velvet glove packs a punch like no other. Rox your Sox.

The St(r)olle

The smoothest of our wines, this will simultaneously quench your thirst and leave you begging for more. In parts of America, this vintage used to be obscure, yet when you taste it, you’ll wonder why. This wine takes a confident, sassy stroll across your palate, its taste coiling a lasso around you as rock solid as Henry Cavill’s abs. Achingly rich and smooth, sporting lush, sweet toned, deep throated berry notes tinged with vanilla, it has suave yet elemental flavors pushing out from a deep, muscular centre. One not to be trifled with.

Barbara the Mannequin, vintage 1988

Wooden and oaky, this wine is perfect for poorly-thought-out proposals. We’ve all known at least one weird, dorky guy who somehow engineered a vision of a hot chick. This wine is that chick. Barbara is also known for its thin, acid nature, bolstered with a dressing that feels domineering, but sadly is only a foreshadowing of a disappointingly textured mouthfeel, with little middle, and an abrupt finish.

Hadley Fraser, vintage: 2 weeks old

A light dessert wine that sometimes forgets how it is supposed to taste. It’s not its fault. Really. We just didn’t give it enough time before bottling it.

Alexander Goebel Der Goebel Veltliner - Vintage 1988

Often overlooked and replaced by the Freeman, its direct descendant, the Goebel is the true original flavour of Vienna's best vineyards, planted and cultivated by the same London vintners that originated the Crawford. Since 1988 the deep rich tones of Dunkelheit in this wine have melted the heart and palate of real connoisseurs around the globe, who also appreciate the high Skan-da-lös and Maskenball notes that follow the first taste. Best served in the Original Cast environment (especially accompanied with a side dish of Nistler and Pfeifer) to highlight its most recognizable qualities, it is also recommended in its "boot" version where its taste is sublimated by visual experience to heighten each sensation.

Peter Karrie

Vintage with a distinctive voice. A commanding flavour, this is a wine both dangerous and elegant, one a chivalrous soul would offer to another, with a heart-rending tone, and an unparalleled physicality and wealth of detail. This grape makes the wine totally in a class of its own, with a wandering taste yet, by some rare and strange alchemy, with a touch of the rock band too. A bit of The Wolf in this bottle.

Ermak Syrah

Our only Slavic wine to date. Once phans sneak a taste of Ermak, they become avid for this imposing Russian grape. Its notes are powerful and bright, dominated by scents of ripe rich raspberry, and a touch of smoke that either comes from barrels toasted over a hickory flame or all that sexy heat. The Eastern European earthy touch, common in ‘Old World’ Syrah, is always present on the back of the palate, but bright succulent flavours mingle with those of hazelnut and chocolate. The tannins swirl like Rusalki across your taste buds, as smooth and alluring as Ermak himself.

G. Beck, vintage 2010

A silken, dry, red English wine with a strong note of blackcurrant. There’s a hint of youthfulness in its complexities. A wine so lovely it will bring tears to your eyes, as the taste conjures up the image of wistfully walking through a graveyard while crying about your father. Perfect after a day of tired feet from wearing heels and heavy gala dresses for too long, and with dark chocolate… or perhaps even Marmite on toast, if you’re feeling adventurous? It has also been blessed by a certain soprano’s tuxedo cat, because why not.

Tested and reviewed by: Tina, who was definitely in a country where the legal age of drinking is 17 at the time. She immediately bought nearly the entire stock and gave it a 6 out of 5 stars rating.

Thiago Arancam, vintage 1982

A total Batata Bonita, this wine from a little-known grape has been successfully transplanted from 13,000 feet up at Insosso Opera’s vineyard to the less stratospheric Sem Sal Palco Musical’s estate. You might call it a vinho on a budget mais fácil. With an early unmasking of a distinct brasiliaro flavour, this is one wine which ought to know how to show its range of notes, but sometimes just pales into insignificance.

Earl Carpenter

A strong bold grape should produce an overbearing wine. Instead, what we have here is viniculture’s version of a smooth Movie Star. Nuanced, sensual and gentle on the palate, it has a buttery feel, although on occasion this vintage’s notes are somewhat uncertain. Building up towards a taste explosion, too much enthusiastic sampling will find you too far gone to stop at the final reveal.

BEN BEN BEN Shiraz 2011

BEN BEN BEN is most curious; the 2011 is one of just two Phantom varietals that are easily acquired, yet rarely is it recommended. Best suited to the mad friends of Dionysus, this Australian Shiraz is a magic show as run by the white tigers: absolutely beautiful, but whose idea was this? It cannot possibly end well… No amount of familiarity with the Brilliant Original will prepare the palate for this Absolute Beast. Expect to be dragged from delicately smoky baritone lows to peppery near-tenor highs; you may feel a little wide-eyed as you study the legs and ponder what that cheekbone is doing to the mouthfeel. Swooning is fine, this glass will pick you up from the floor, it is broad shouldered and surprisingly sweet.

A word to the wise: don't finish the bottle. Pour out that last twenty minutes in memory of the rare 2018 vintage, BEN! KELLY! BEN! KELLY!, of which no complete bottles exist.

Uwe Kroger, vintage 1964, 2006

Ye little gods, here was a tone with an unsettling quirky tongue to it, cutting right through the sweet fruit; an acidity, quite at odds with its vinicultural opulence. This lick of minerality which is just a fingertip’s distance away, is a bit old hat. Been done to death. Somewhat late to the party and overdressed too. It is easier to define what it is not – that is, it is not richness, nor fleshiness, nor texture, it is just there, this odd mineral flavour bringing neither a sense of purpose nor a sense of depth, fashionably unpopular, kookier and saltier than a bag of KP nuts, changeable without letting you know where it is going. And in any case, minerals, rocks and stones have no flavour at all. In Kresowy Slavic folklore, the “flavour” of stones is caused by an invisible substance called petrichor, which, according to my Russian-Greek-English thesaurus (what? It’s the only one I’ve got! Give me a break!) is “constructed from petra (πέτρα), meaning ‘stone’, and īchōr (ἰχώρ), the fluid that flows in the veins of the gods of Russian mythology.”

Gary Mauer

Are you married to your job? Just the wine for you! With a hint of sexy Dionysian wildness in its overtones, this sexy, vastly diverting and deliciously deep flavoured wine hits up hard on the brain. A sparkling good character with a touch of flair on its first taste, under all that joie de vivre, subsequent contact may make you come unhinged in the final analysis. Touted by wine snobs as 100% clean and wholesome in taste, those of us in the know greedily drink up the wicked taste and flavour, both of which provide a powerhouse duo, giving an amazing almost Elizabethan scent to the final mouthful. Having dashing good looks, this wine has a lovely tenor to its middle notes. While fairly standard from a non-specialist standpoint, it is sprinkled with touches of genius throughout; the distant whispered scent of a bridal bouquet of roses: so romantic. All in all, a great wine with a hugely masculine edge.

Ethan Freeman

A Viennese delight, this unexpected Rosé has distinct European notes, yet a brash American aroma. Moreover, it has a singing finish on the palate. A demanding Jekyll and Hyde of a wine, the duality of the fresh flavour of Oberhaüsen strawberries combined with the descending chill of the faint ghost of basement scents have resulted in a complex type of legerdemain that can be almost felt, not just tasted. Best experienced on hot summer nights.

Cooper, vintage 2014

Far too many notes for our taste, and most of them about this wine. Just read this review left by a customer! (We would like to remind everyone that we card any customers who appear to be younger than 21.) “A delightful wine, positively wonderful, just the perfect stubbly lad. Anytime is Coopertime. Also sweet.”

Christopher Carl

Looks like a meme but also 100% legit like a stock image of STOIC MAN (TM) sold by Hasbro. (Wine bottle and fine horses sold separately.)

20 notes · View notes

yatrirestro · 2 days

Text

Exploring Regional Delicacies: A Foodie's Guide to Train Food Delivery

Travelling by train has long been a cherished experience for many, offering a unique perspective of the ever-changing landscapes and a chance to savour the journey. While the rhythmic clatter of wheels on the tracks creates a soothing backdrop, the prospect of enjoying delicious regional delicacies can elevate the experience to a whole new level. We will explore how foodies can indulge in the finest local cuisines while travelling by train, thanks to innovative services like Yatri Restro that directly bring India's flavours to your seat.

The Evolution of Train Food Delivery

Gone are the days when train travellers had limited food options, often confined to pantry cars or station stalls. The advent of online food delivery services has revolutionised the way passengers eat on trains. Companies like Yatri Restro have tapped into this market, providing an array of choices that cater to diverse tastes and preferences. From traditional thalis to contemporary fast food, passengers can now relish various dishes without leaving their seats.

The Role of Yatri Restro in Train Food Delivery

Yatri Restro has emerged as a prominent player in the train food delivery market. Their mission is to enhance the travel experience by offering high-quality, hygienic, and delicious food showcasing different regions' rich culinary heritage. Partnering with local restaurants and food vendors, Yatri Restro ensures that each meal is freshly prepared and reflects the region's authentic flavours.

How Yatri Restro Works

Easy Ordering Process: Passengers can place orders through the Yatri Restro website or mobile app. The user-friendly interface allows travellers to browse menus, select their desired meals, and specify the station where they would like their food to be delivered.

Wide Range of Options: Yatri Restro offers an extensive menu with regional specialities, vegetarian and non-vegetarian dishes, and special dietary options. Whether you're craving a spicy biryani or a healthy salad, there's something for everyone.

Timely Delivery: Yatri Restro prioritises hot and fresh food delivery. Their efficient logistics network ensures that meals are prepared just before your train arrives at the designated station, guaranteeing freshness and flavour.

Exploring Regional Delicacies with Yatri Restro

One of the joys of travelling across India is the opportunity to taste the diverse cuisines that each region offers. Here are some regional delicacies you can savour while travelling by train, with Yatri Restro ensuring you get all the culinary delight.

North India

Punjab: Known for its rich and hearty food, Punjab offers dishes like butter chicken, sarson ka saag, and makki di roti. A typical Punjabi thali, with its curries, bread, and lassi, can be a fulfilling meal on your journey.

Delhi: The capital city is famous for its street food. From chole bhature to paranthas and kebabs to jalebi, Delhi's culinary scene is a melting pot of flavours. Yatri Restro brings these street food delights straight to your train seat.

Uttar Pradesh: Experience the royal flavours of Awadhi cuisine with dishes like kebabs, biryani, and korma. The intricate use of spices and slow-cooking techniques make these dishes a treat for your taste buds.

South India

Tamil Nadu: Enjoy the crispiness of dosas, the tanginess of rasam, and the rich flavours of Chettinad cuisine. A traditional Tamil Nadu meal on a banana leaf can be an exotic experience.

Kerala: Known as God's Own Country, Kerala offers a variety of seafood dishes, coconut-based curries, and appams. The delicate flavours of fish molee or the spicy punch of a prawn curry can make your journey memorable.

Karnataka: Relish the taste of Mysore masala dosa, bisi bele bath, and Mangalorean fish curry. The blend of spices and unique preparation methods make Karnataka's cuisine stand out.

East India

West Bengal: Savour Bengali cuisine's sweet and savoury delights. From the spicy fish curry (macher jhol) to the sweet goodness of rasgulla and sandesh, the flavours of Bengal are hard to resist.

Odisha: Try the famous Dalma, a lentil and vegetable stew, or the classic chhena poda, a baked cottage cheese dessert. The simplicity and wholesomeness of Odia food are its highlights.

Assam: The northeastern state offers exotic dishes like bamboo shoot pickles, fish tenga, and duck curry. Using fresh herbs and minimal spices gives Assamese cuisine a unique flavour profile.

West India

Maharashtra: Indulge in the spicy and tangy flavours of Marathi food. Vada pav, pav bhaji, and puran poli are just a few examples of the diverse culinary offerings from this region.

Gujarat: Experience Gujarati cuisine's sweet and savoury balance with dishes like dhokla, khandvi, and the famous Gujarati thali. The use of diverse ingredients and flavours makes this cuisine truly special.

Goa: Enjoy the vibrant and spicy Goan cuisine, known for its seafood and Portuguese influence. Goan food is a burst of flavours, from fish curry rice to bebinca.

Central India

Madhya Pradesh: The heart of India offers delicacies like poha jalebi, bhutte ka kees, and the sumptuous Bhopali kebabs. The rich culinary heritage of this region is reflected in its diverse dishes.

Chhattisgarh: Known for its tribal cuisine, Chhattisgarh offers unique dishes like fara, bafauri, and dehati harela. These rustic dishes are a testament to the state's rich cultural heritage.

Tips for a Perfect Foodie Journey

To make the most of your train journey and the food delivered by Yatri Restro, consider the following tips:

Plan Ahead: While spontaneity has its charm, planning your meals in advance can ensure you try the best regional delicacies. Check the route of your train and the specialities of the regions you'll be passing through.

Stay Hydrated: Traveling can dehydrate, especially in the summer. Drink plenty of water and avoid excessive caffeine or alcohol.

Opt for Fresh and Light: While indulging in rich and heavy foods is tempting, opting for lighter meals can help you stay comfortable during the journey.

Share and Sample: If you're travelling with family or friends, order different dishes and share them. This way, you get to sample a wider variety of flavours.

Check Reviews: Yatri Restro's app and website often feature restaurant reviews and ratings. Check these to ensure you're ordering from highly recommended places.

Conclusion

Travelling by train in India offers a unique opportunity to explore the country's culinary diversity. With services like Yatri Restro, you can enjoy the best regional delicacies delivered right to your seat, making your journey not just a mode of travel but a gastronomic adventure. Every meal can celebrate India's rich culinary heritage, from the spicy curries of the South to the sweet treats of the East. So, the next time you board a train, let Yatri Restro take care of your dining needs and embark on a flavorful journey across India.

#indian railways #indian food #order food in train #food in train #Food delivery on train #e-catering

2 notes · View notes

rarepears · 2 years

Note

I'm probably traumatized God. The bastard had it coming

AKA a story set in Kevan Lannister's POV as he accidentally traumatizes his godly brother-in-law Sung Jinwoo. But! He has no regrets!

(Maybe it's something like Kevan inadvertently teaching Sung Jinwoo about how lonely soldiers in the middle of nowhere and... sheeps are not a good match. Or... how spoiled meat is a delicacy in some regions?)

[Read more in this AU: #tywin lannister x sung jinwoo which is also up on ao3]

[check out other fic ideas in the #made up fic title ask game]

#tywin lannister #sung jin woo #tywin lannister x sung jinwoo #solo leveling au #solo leveling #solo leveling ideas #sung jinwoo #sung jinah #game of thrones #crack fic #tyrion #tyrion lannister #make up fake fic title ask game

42 notes · View notes

the-sycophant · 1 year

Text

The Glaring Guest

The sliver of an open window was the only reprieve from a myriad of conflicting scents that clouded the entirety of the office. It was nearly suffocating, her head thrumming nice and slow to the pace set by her heart. It was a familiar array, disgustingly so, but the interesting view outside stifled that which was tearing through what meager patience she had.

Coffee, earthy and dark, accompanied the biscuits that were decorated gingerly with bright red fruits and colourful sugars. Cheeses of various acridity and region, crusty breads with herbed butters and sweet jams. Meat. Meat as greasy as the fingers that picked at the plates and just as thick as them too. Those fingers also held a pungent cigar, pinched between raw, bruised knuckles as the owner ashed it amidst the sampling of delicacies.

"The forests along the mountainside have been untouched for decades. Heretics still linger, as they do. Vermin, the lot of them. Even after our many attempts to quash their brood entirely...gods knows our men are spread thin these days. Who knows what sort of void nonsense could still be lurking—"

Mr. Barbinoux had been dealing with someone for weeks — some investor or entrepreneur or other — attempting to entice them with a business proposal and that some sort of occultist treasure horde lay deep within the mountainside. This bit she had heard several times over, but she let him speak even as her attention waned.

How gracious of her.

"Marlowe, my dear? What say you to that?"

A huff, delicate manicured fingers twisting at the satin ribbon tied at her breast as her neck craned away from the study of the unfamiliar airship with its unfamiliar workers. "What? Like some common mercenary?" It held little bite, iced blue eyes now too focused on the glistening river of oil and crumbs running down the highlander's chin and throat. Staining his collar, his skin. "And for some...filthy apostate, no less."

She nudged herself off the frame, feet silent on the warm fur of the hide rug as she swayed toward him, playful. "You've sent so many men into those woods," a sweet coo as she sat herself on one tree-trunk sized thigh, pressing the corner of the unused silk napkin to the corner of his too used mouth. "And I know I have a weakness for the needy, a mighty weakness," Marlowe's attention turned to his clothes, tapping a finger against one leather shank button of the man's vest, making circles as it strained desperately against the wool, "but are my skills not inadequate for how pathetic it all seems? Surely whatever it is your new friend is searching for needs a true professional?" She gave the stubbly line of his jaw a soft little kiss, an equally soft little tongue flicking out against his skin, "Sukhtau, perhaps?" Particularly indulgent with his flesh, that tongue moved down his throat, languidly lapping at the mess he made for himself.

"Qestir?" A snort. "Now now, Marlowe my dear," Mr. Barbinoux mumbled between the wet smacking of his lips, suckling noisily at the rings on his fingers to catch any remnants of flavour left from his meal. His chin tilted up as one thick arm came 'round her waist, only tugging her back when he felt teeth. "My sweet flower, you know I wish to please the family, help unburden you with that nasty debt of yours," and as he continued on as she listened her very best, she did, trying not to get too distracted with his attention as he kneaded into her side. Soiling her dress while he was at it too, the pretty thing that it was - ivory cotton full of layered lace trim and light as a feather, scandalous in how fine the threading was, only just hiding her barely there figure.

Fucking prick. She liked this dress.

She adjusted his necktie needlessly as he explained how much good the venture would do, how simple it would be to complete, how much it would please him and that she would get a new bauble. Those grimy fingers ruffled amidst the fabric, trying to find purchase on skin, callouses catching against ribboned stockings and the strap of a garter. It was ignored, his explanation and insistent groping, and she remained unhelpful to his advances and attempts in cajoling her.

Marlowe turned away from his touch to her cheek, denying them both. "Take me to Ishgard, then." A simple counter offer she knew he would easily accept, more so that she knew he had a trip on the books some weeks ahead. It mattered little to him as to why she wanted to go, she was sure. He only cared in that she did what he wanted in the end. She was the same.

"Excellent! Excellent. They will be most pleased, I can assure you. Now then, what is it our new friends desire?"

Content with sitting on his lap and feeding him in-between his chatter, she popped a piece of fruit into his mouth. He let her. "Gold."

"Surely not?"

A hum of approval, deep and delighted, nearly a purr. "Of course not, you smart man. No, they wished very much for someone to believe it was gold, so strongly in fact that their wants to be believed overshadowed everything else. I would not at all be surprised if one felt me fishing around inside their heads," she nearly sang in melodic amusement, intrigued with the idea despite the threat of it. "I find it very odd the amount of people coming in here wanting the exact same thing, don't you?"

But it was her turn to be ignored now, instead for favour of additional treats. Was she not good enough? Did she not dote on him as he wished? The docile part she played faltered, the concernment of his disregard stacking upon her foul mood from being awake so far into the day. Her pretty face twisted into something less so, the speed in which she gripped those nails into his chin making him sputter various bits of food at her cheek. He gave a hiss of displeasure when she squeezed. "Don't you?" She hissed back through teeth clickity click clicking together in a brief animalistic chitter. "Someone knows something." Marlowe insisted nastily as she picked out a biscuit with her free hand before offering it to him, pinching at his jaw until it opened. "Imagine if they instead wanted to slip in the middle of the night to slit your throat. This group you are meddling with—"

He batted away at her hand after a bite, and she obliged sourly as he wiped his cheek, then hers. "I doubt it," a grunt as she moved to straddle his lap, knees barely able to squeeze around either side of his hips as her slender arms circled about his neck. He chewed, swallowed. "But you'd be all the more happy for it, wouldn't you?"

"Oh, Hugo, you know I'd miss you terribly. All the good parts of you, at least." She pressed her breasts to his, agreeable now that his attention was where it should be. "And so many good parts you have! Practically a saint! Gods, what would we ever do without you?"

"Enough of that, and stop this Hugo nonsense." His disgust was exceptionally pleasing, her grin triumphant and annoyingly smug, but she said nothing further. "You will attend to the group going into the mountainside—"

She nodded with sweet 'yes sir's just the way he liked, allowing his explanation but not retaining it. The logistics of this little adventure could be left to someone else, and she'd just play stupid later to get out of being burdened with directing a group of some hired thugs. Gods forbid she do a smidge of work.

They'd figure it all out.

"And take our guest out with you. You may have the day with him."

Her attention finally turned to the strongest scent in the room, a wheezing and bleeding thing curled up on the floorboards. It was Mr. Barbinoux's own hands that had done the deed this time, and what a pitiful display of power and status it was too. She wasn't quite sure who he was trying to impress with the way he had his other lackeys hold their guest down whilst he did it, taking three of them to contain the now brutalized man on the floor. Vile. Weak.

But oh! How she ached just to press her lips to this battered man and taste his suffering, lick his wounds all better and make him feel so good for feeling so bad. The way he looked at her when she stepped beside him was so intoxicatingly livid, so full of defiant fury that she felt her heart and loyalty flutter. She wanted him to succeed in whatever it was he was sneaking around for, for whatever game he was playing. How exciting. "The entire day! Oh, you do love me don't you?" she chirped pleasantly, pressing her foot against the man's cheek, stockings soaking up blood as she turned his face with painted toes. He didn't even give her a grunt. Then again, he didn't cry out either when taking his beating.

Her head canted. He was a handsome thing, wasn't he? Even with his face all swollen and bruised - perhaps more so. She'd be punished severely for taking a taste of him, but she could imagine how his boiling blood would accompany the ache sizzling her insides. She couldn't be punished for that, could she? A girl was allowed to daydream and want. And she wanted.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," just as sweet a coo for him now, eager to see how this would all play out as she smiled down at him in adoration. "I'll take good care of you. Now let's go get you all nice and pretty!"

#stories | seditious spiritual saucy #why is this so long #who did this #what is grammar #me x run ons are the real otp #barbinoux

14 notes · View notes

choti12 · 3 months

Text

Indulging in Malaysia's Vegetarian Delights Best Time to Explore

Malaysia's culinary landscape is as diverse as its cultural tapestry, offering a plethora of tantalizing vegetarian dishes that cater to every palate. If you're a vegetarian traveler seeking to explore Malaysia's culinary gems, timing your visit can enhance your gastronomic journey. Let's delve into the best time to indulge in Malaysia's vegetarian delights.

1. Weather and Seasonal Produce: Understanding Malaysia's weather patterns can provide insight into the availability of fresh, locally sourced ingredients.

Dry Season (May to September): This period sees an abundance of seasonal fruits and vegetables, ensuring a variety of fresh produce for vegetarian dishes. Explore bustling markets and street food stalls to savor the flavors of locally sourced ingredients.

Wet Season (November to March): While rain showers may be more frequent, wet markets still offer a vibrant array of fruits and vegetables. Embrace the opportunity to sample seasonal specialties and traditional vegetarian dishes during this time.

2. Festivals and Vegetarian Cuisine: Malaysia's festivals offer a unique opportunity to immerse yourself in vegetarian culinary traditions.

Thaipusam (January/February): Celebrate this Hindu festival with a visit to the Batu Caves, where vegetarian offerings are abundant. Indulge in flavorful South Indian dishes such as dosas, idlis, and sambar.

Nine Emperor Gods Festival (October): Join in the festivities of this Taoist celebration, where vegetarianism is practiced by devotees. Explore vegetarian street food stalls offering a wide array of plant-based delicacies.

3. Exploring Vegetarian-Friendly Destinations: Certain regions in Malaysia are renowned for their vegetarian-friendly culinary scene, catering to discerning palates.

Penang: Known as a food haven, Penang boasts a plethora of vegetarian eateries offering diverse cuisines, including Chinese, Indian, and Malay.

Kuala Lumpur: The capital city is a melting pot of culinary diversity, with numerous vegetarian restaurants and street food vendors serving up delectable dishes from around the world.

4. Local Vegetarian Festivals: Participating in vegetarian festivals provides a unique opportunity to experience Malaysia's cultural and culinary heritage.

Penang International Vegetarian Festival (September/October): Immerse yourself in a gastronomic extravaganza featuring vegetarian street food, cooking demonstrations, and cultural performances.

Melaka VegFest (July/August): Discover a wide range of vegetarian and vegan delights at this annual festival celebrating plant-based cuisine and sustainable living.

Conclusion: Best Time to Visit Malaysia a devout vegetarian or simply seeking to explore Malaysia's vibrant culinary scene, timing your visit can enhance your gastronomic adventure. By considering weather patterns, festival seasons, and vegetarian-friendly destinations, you can embark on a flavorful journey through Malaysia's diverse vegetarian delights. So pack your appetite, explore with an open mind, and prepare to be tantalized by the rich

3 notes · View notes

whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon · 2 years

Note

Elden Ring Bachelor/ette anon here, anything you think may be best. Probably written though, pictures can convey stuff but words like make it more descriptive.

Radagon - Doesn't really give two fucks and would really prefer to return to Rennala and salvage whatever he can of that relationship. And so with his children's blessing, he departs but not before the God-Tarnished squeezes his chesticles because goddamn.

Marika - Surprisingly, has also had enough of being God-Queen and opts to just... be? To just be and try to repair the relationship with her family while also avoiding her brother as best she can (I'm assuming Godfrey and Maliketh are also alive as well). She'd be the Chris Harrison (minus the controversy) of the whole shebang.

Morgott - Still salty as fuck that the God-Tarnished beat him and also looked up his cloak so it's two hells and two nawls for the moment. He'd also make for a good advisor. In the meantime, he's busy passive-aggressively giving Marika and Godfrey shit for their past actions. May or may not throw shade at the God-Tarnished as well. Receives a Rune Arc and bitches about that, too. He secretly rejoices though.

Mohg - The one who's starting shit behind the scenes and yes, he's using Varré to do his dirty work, too. Like to tease Morgott over his saltiness. He and Varré may or may not come as a 2-for-1 deal. Steals Receives a Rune Arc as well.

Radahn - The Tarnished may harbor a little crush on him but is heartbroken to find out that he's actually in a relationship with Jerren. God-Tarnished proceeds to yell at Radahn about how he led them on but Radahn is confused as shit because he's only met them ONCE. He does let them ride Leonard afterward so all is well.

Ranni - This cute, smol thing is also kinda salty that shit didn't pan out but unlike Morgott she lets it go and gives them her blessing. She's also grateful that her parents will soon reunite but it's still 'fuck you, Radagon'. Also receives a Rune Arc.

Rykard - Automatic no because he's TOGETHHHAAAA with Tanith. Commits blasphemy yet again.

Boggart - Gets a Rune Arc by virtue of his chesticles and bomb ass food.

Rogier - Too busy being a slut and pining after D (BOTH OF THEM) at the same damn time.

Diallos - Currently getting his back blown out by Bernahl so... no.

Godrick - Received a Rune Arc because the God-Tarnished is a troll. Surprisingly, it turns into a legitimate connection. Radahn and Malenia object.

Nepheli Loux - Made Kenneth Haight her bitch (and he loves it) so no.

Gideon Offnir - God-Tarnished is absolutely on the fence about giving him one because he could be a decent Elden Lord if he WASN'T SUCH A DICK.

Vyke - Do you really want those problems with Lansseax?

Malenia -

Fia - Too busy pining after Godwyn who is busy pining after Fortissax who ALSO happens to be pining after Godwyn, too. Um...

Dung Eater - Okay, who the fuck put him on the list?

Patches - Is the John Paul Jones of the Lands Between. A fan-favorite of the residents (HOW?). Morgott and Marika approve because he 'imports' some of their favorite foods and beverages which are rare delicacies in the region. Receives a Rune Arc.

Yura - Received a Rune Arc and didn't know what the hell was going on until it was too late. Well shit...

Gostoc - Is only doing this to spite Godrick and it's working.

Boc - Isn't even participating but is the reason why the God-Tarnished's fashions are on point.

Corhyn - Still laughing maniacally at it all.

D (Darian) - Is surprisingly flattered to receive a Rune Arc which pisses Rogier off.

D (Devin) - Also receives a Rune Arc, too. Thought the God-Tarnished was bullshitting until Darian explained it to him and he witnessed Rogier mope, pout, and then argue with Darian about it. In that order.

FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT TIME ON DRAGONBALL-Z.

#elden ring #crackcanon.#too many tags again. whoops.#elden crack.#this got out of hand. sorry. lmaooo

30 notes · View notes