eye cataract

*bell peppers are great during periods of heavy restricting*

i’ve always loved bell peppers and today i was doing some research on their health benefits and i was very surprised what i found out. here’s a short list of few of the many benefits…

Bell peppers are low in calories! So, even if you eat one full cup of them, you get just about 45 calories. Bonus: that one cup will give you more than your daily quota of Vitamin A and C!
They contain plenty of vitamin C, which powers up your immune system and keeps skin youthful. The highest amount of Vitamin C in a bell pepper is concentrated in the red variety.
Red bell peppers contain several phytochemicals and carotenoids, particularly beta-carotene, which lavish you with antioxidant and anti-inflammatory benefits.
The capsaicin in bell peppers has multiple health benefits. Studies show that it reduces ‘bad’ cholesterol, controls diabetes, brings relief from pain and eases inflammation.
If cooked for a short period on low heat, bell peppers retain most of their sweet, almost fruity flavor and flavonoid content, which is a powerful nutrient.
The sulfur content in bell peppers makes them play a protective role in certain types of cancers.
The bell pepper is a good source of Vitamin E, which is known to play a key role in keeping skin and hair looking youthful.
Bell peppers also contain vitamin B6, which is essential for the health of the nervous system and helps renew cells.
Certain enzymes in bell peppers, such as lutein, protect the eyes from cataracts and macular degeneration later in life.

Bell peppers are also mostly water and very hydrating which is extremely important during restricting/fasting! ****i don’t at all encourage these behaviors i just want to those who do to stay as healthy as possible****

do your body a favor and go have some peppers 💕🍅🌶

Chirrut by Elicia Donze. Drawn in PS. Please do not remove caption.

[Caption: A realistic digital painting of Chirrut Imwe from Rogue One. Portrait is from the waist up and mostly in profile. Chirrut is wearing a dark gray sci-fi-styled suede tunic with leather straps and a light gray sci-fi-armor gauntlet on his wrist. He’s holding a walking stick. His blind eyes are cataract-blue with no pupils. His hair is shaved close to his scalp. The background is soft purple with a blazing white-gold sun that fills most of the space.]

Our Bodies Break Light

Traci Brimhall


We crawl through the tall grass and idle light,
our chests against the earth so we can hear the river

underground. Our backs carry rotting wood and books
that hold no stories of damnation or miracles.

One day as we listen for water, we find a beekeeper—
one eye pearled by a cataract, the other cut out by his own hand

so he might know both types of blindness. When we stand
in front of him, he says we are prisms breaking light into color—

our right shoulders red, our left hips a wavering indigo.
His apiaries are empty except for dead queens, and he sits

on his quiet boxes humming as he licks honey from the bodies
of drones. He tells me he smelled my southern skin for miles,

says the graveyard is full of dead prophets. To you, he presents
his arms, tattooed with songs slave catchers whistle

as they unleash the dogs. He lets you see the burns on his chest
from the time he set fire to boats and pushed them out to sea.

You ask why no one believes in madness anymore,
and he tells you stars need a darkness to see themselves by.

When you ask about resurrection, he says, How can you doubt?
and shows you a deer licking salt from a lynched man’s palm.

thirstykurapika  asked:

Sorry if i am bothering you with more draws ;w;, but i just wanted to see how pairo would look in your style and what is your take on an older pairo? ^^

You’re never bothering me, I love it! :D

The only problem is that I have no idea of what my style is

When it comes to Pairo i wonder if would have got be fully healed if he’d lived

Sins of the Father: What the Spirit Says

Pairing: Finn Bálor x Reader

Warnings (some potential triggers): Incredibly sacrilegious/blasphemous smut, anal sex (female receiving), graphic death (minor character), hints of dub-con, detachment, bondage, knife play, blood play.

Word Count: 1141

A/N: Hello hello! So we’re coming to the point in the story where things get disturbing as hell. This is the beginning of the end.

Anywho, I hope you enjoy it. :)

My Bálor Babes: @yourr-anger-your-anchor@motleymoose@georgiadean37@wweximaginesxd@racheo91 @daddy-slug@blondekel77@ambrosegirlforever @liam-is-sexy10 @fucking-bandsx@boundtomyfate@hotspurmadridista@florenceivy@geekoftv@behindthesesilvereyes@vsturgeon5489@thegoddessqueenrileycarter@justhavingfun123469@wwesmutandstuff @devitt-club @anerdysouthernbelle @thebadchic   

Originally posted by letstalkwrestling

Because context - even of the sacrilegious kind - is everything, catch up on the Masterlist before you proceed.

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yoongi scenario | keep the wolves away

Your mother warned you that when the wolves came knocking, you weren’t to answer the door. But the boy at the door doesn’t look much like a wolf, and he’s bleeding and wet. You can’t simply leave him outside…

genre: angst, fluff, fairytale!au
word count: 2.8k
prompt: write a story including these three things: a very old letter, a wolf, a family heirloom >> based on this
tw: character death


It happened long ago; once upon a day, back when you were unbound by age, and unburdened by worry. You remember being left home alone, shrouded in the forest quiet. It was then you met him - the wolf, who wandered to your home. With his eyes of molten gold, and his teeth of glinting silver, he stole into the space of your memory, and kept up residence there. His name was Yoongi.

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gettingintovet  asked:

I actually wanted to know what you've experienced with the Siberian Husky in Australia health-wise? As far as I know they're quite sturdy, aside from a zinc deficiency. I lost my girl a few weeks ago to a liver infection that progressed to sudden liver failure, I heard liver problems can happen in all breeds, but I just wanted to know if you'd seen in before in huskies?

General Disclaimer: These posts are about the breed from a veterinary viewpoint as seen in clinical practice, i.e. the problems we are faced with. It’s not the be-all and end-all of the breed and is not to make a judgement about whether the breed is right for you. If you are asking for an opinion about these animals in a veterinary setting, that is what you will get. It’s not going to be all sunshine and cupcakes, and is not intended as a personal insult against your favorite breed. This is general advice for what is common, often with a scientific consensus but sometimes based on personal experiences, and is not a guarantee of what your dog is going to encounter in their life.

Now, onto the Siberian Husky.

Structurally they’re pretty sound overall. Hip screening has done well for this breed.

Interestingly, aside from coat maintenance issues, I see a lot of UV light associated issues.

Pannus is relatively uncommon in other local breeds, but seems to pop up more in the husky. I also see more auto-immune skin disorders like pemphigus foliaceus and I do see zinc associated dermatosis, but honestly many owners of these dogs decline biopsy, so I’m not always certain which condition is being treated, just that this combination of treatments is working today. 

Occasionally I come across one with multiple eye conditions, like juvenile cataracts, glaucoma and progressive retinal atrophy, that have necessitated removing the eyes for the dogs comfort, even after diligent care and management by specialist ophthalmologists. But hey, and dog can still enjoy life with no eyeballs.

It may also be coincidental, but I’ve need more unexpected neurological conditions conditions in huskies, like polyradiculoneuritis. It’s not considered a breed disposition, but it’s what I’m seeing in practice.

Mental health has been the biggest downside to this breed, in my experience. They are beautiful dogs and are highly intelligent, but many people get them because they want ‘the look’ or because they want to believe that what they actually own is some sort of wolf. They are sometimes not prepared for the mental needs of such an intelligent breed, and this can result in unconfident or poorly trained dogs.

Some of them have just had something not right in their psychology. They’re one of the few breeds of dog I’ve had switch so suddenly from happy, tail wagging, hand licking posture to lunging at my face and back again. They have not been like other breeds in this respect. Any dog can take a dislike to you but it’s only the huskies I’ve seen switching back and forth so rapidly.

Liver infections and liver failure can happen in any breed, and it sounds like what happened to your girl was just unfortunate and unpreventable. That doesn’t make what’s happened any easier to deal with, but I don’t think there was anything extra you could have done.

Nudge Theory

Characters: CastielXReader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2516 (Act IV - Part II)

A/N: A five-act miniseries. The reader and Castiel must work together to solve the curious case of the missing Winchesters. Fluff, smut, and a plot for kicks. Is adding a second part to the fourth act of a five act mini-series cheating? Cause if so, I’m guilty! Act V got long…really long. So here’s Act IV from the reader and Castiel’s perspective to tide you all over until the conclusion!

Previous chapters:   Act I,  Act II, Act III , Act IV - Part I

Originally posted by winchester-novak

Nudge [verb] –

·       “Coax or gently encourage someone to do something.”

“Dean?!” the angel’s deeply concerned tenor was a contained thunder clap which sent you bolting upright.

“What do you mean, where am I? Where are you?” Cas pivoted to face you, “I’m in bed.” Speaking to you, he tilted the phone from his mouth and lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper, “It’s Sam and Dean.”

Even groggy with the withering vestiges of sleep you’d managed to surmise as much on your own. In the split second before your temper flared, you acknowledged it was kind of adorable how the angel stated the obvious with such gravitas. But what you really wanted to know was where the hell the brothers had been all this time, and why they didn’t touch base until now.

“I’m being too specific?” with a roll of his bright blue eyes and a deep sigh, Cas directed his attention to the conversation with Dean, “Earth…well, you said…fine, we’re at a motel in Clifton Springs…off Elis Road near the former site of the sanatorium…yes, following up on your case.”

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FFXV - Kitty!Au - Ignis

WARNING!: Just a heads up - the second photo shows a blind kitty - their eyes are coated with cataracts. So it’s not gory or anything, but I figured I’d give you a heads up before you continue. 


You hummed softly, as you listened to the breeder babble in your ear about her newest batch, but you mentioned again, that you were not looking for a kitten. You had your hands full with that already.

The breeder hummed, and let you know that they had a young cat available, and you jumped at the chance. He was the breed you had been searching for, for awhile, and you were so excited to get a Silver Point Siamese and add him to your Clowder…

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2

Gurudwara Ram Pur Khera Sahib, Punjab

12 August 2017

[fun fact: this gurudwara also performs eye surgeries (for cataracts and the like) on the impoverished for free]

anonymous asked:

Question tax: came for Lucifer the bunny and stayed for everything else. Could you do one of those breed diagnosis for Golden Retrievers? Thanks!!

Sure, since you asked so nicely. But before I say much, please note the disclaimer.

These posts are about the breed from a veterinary viewpoint as seen in clinical practice, i.e. the problems we are faced with. It’s not the be-all and end-all of the breed and is not to make a judgement about whether the breed is right for you. If you are asking for an opinion about these animals in a veterinary setting, that is what you will get. It’s not going to be all sunshine and cupcakes, and is not intended as a personal insult against your favorite breed. This is general advice for what is common, often with a scientific consensus but sometimes based on personal experiences, and is not a guarantee of what your dog is going to encounter in their life.

Originally posted by clowny69

From an orthopedic viewpoint, this breed commonly develops elbow and hip dysplasia to varying extents. All breeding dogs should be screened for these conditions.

Golden Retrievers are notorious for cancer. They’re not quite as bad as Boxers, but they’re pretty damn close. In particular Lymphoma seems common in this breed, and lymphoma can occur at any age, not just necessarily older dogs. Osteosarcoma, Mast Cell Tumor and even Haemangiosarcoma occur fairly reliably. They are the more common cancers in this breed.

The most common reason for me to see Golden Retrievers in clinical practice are skin conditions, and very specifically hot spots (moist dermatitis).

Seriously, these hot spots can get so bad that sometimes I’ve had to shave 30% of the dog. Hot Spots are severely infected skin which are both very painful and itchy. They occur when there is persistent moisture trapped against the skin, and they spread rapidly because the presence of a hot spot causes more fluid exudate, so they spread rapidly if ignored. I had so many Golden Retrievers present to emergency last New Years because of hot spots that their owners thought they could leave until their regular vet opened, only to have them spread from ears to chest and cause a huge amount of discomfort for the dogs.

They develop a couple of eye conditions, of which cataracts  and progressive retinal atrophy (PRA) seem to be the most common. Blindness isn’t the end of the world for a dog, but sometimes this occurs concurrently with cognitive dysfunction (Dog senility) and that can be distressing and disorientating.

The breed is reported to be prone to von willebrands disease, a blood clotting disorder, but honestly I’m yet to encounter this in clinical practice.

Many breeders are now screening their dogs for subaortic stenosis, a congenital heart defect. There are not many congenital heart murmurs I’ve encountered in dogs, but for me, for some reason, Golden Retrievers are over-represented. Many of these dogs exceed their life expectancy (so far), but they are being carefully monitored by a specialist and we’ve not put any of them under anaesthetic.

I also have a few of these patients on the go who have idiopathic epilepsy, which often develops in middle aged dogs. They’ve all been very responsive to standard therapy so far. This condition requires lifelong medication, so owners of these dogs have been very glad they took up health insurance. 

These dogs are also big enough to get bloat (Gastric dilatation volvulus), especially the larger males who gobble their food.

Speaking of food, obesity is a common problem for this breed, and it’s associated impact on joint health. It’s very easy of overfeed and under-exercise these dogs. They’re often very loving and it’s tempting to give them lots of treats, and the weight gain can sneak up on people due to their fur.

The breed also seems to be prone to anxiety, and no matter how nice their reputation I simply can’t trust them in the clinic, especially for drawing blood. They drop into neurosis very easily, and as a surprising fact it’s Labradors and Goldens that are responsible for the most dog bites that send vets to hospital.

The Only One

After a lot of thinking and rethinking and a bit of research, I have completed the first chapter of my Hades!Harry series. Thanks to @twistofpayne for the help and @harryisthebaneofmyexistence WE DID IT! Here are the next parts.

Disclaimer:This has little to no relevance with the mythology so please don’t use it for educational purposes.

Also as I said, I have not done an in depth research so if I’m making a major mistake feel free to point out.

Dark.

The first thing you realise, it’s dark. Second, you can’t move and your whole body is paralysed. You try to move, you can’t but you feel the soft sheets underneath you. You try to breath in but the air is too heavy filled with a sweet but strange scent, making your lungs feel tight and struggle to take in air. You try hard to remember something, anything, but it’s all blank. You squeeze your eyes trying to sort out your mind, to remember to breathe, to calm your heart down from the struggle to break free from your own weight, but nothing. You squeeze your eyes harder to remember the warmth of the sun, the birds chirping, the stream gurgling at a distance, crunch of the grass beneath your feet and the soft petals of blossoms brushing against your ankles, but nothing. Helplessly, you fall into the dark abyss again.

You wake up to the sound of a crash, eyes flying open, body jolt sitting upright but you regret it instantly as your eyes shut against the bright light of the room and your whole body aches. Hands shielding your eyes as you squint them open. You blink to adjust your sight and to remember where you were. Your memory is hazy but you remember playing in the meadow with your friends, though nothing came to your mind to solve the mystery of your whereabouts.

The room is well lit with numerous lamps, white walls, tiled floor, filled with furnitures of gold, everything about the room gives a taste of royalty but nothing gave you an idea of where you could be. You lightly move your feet to stand barefoot on the cold hard floor, nothing like the lush green you are used to walk on. Your body hurts with each movement but it is bearable as you drag yourself to the door.

The world outside is very different from the room you were in. Dark with few torches along the hall, the wall pitch black and steep, if you look up to find the roof, you couldn’t. The floor beneath you still cold and hard but the white tiles are now replaced with black marble. Something about this place gave you chills but also a sense of peace. It could have been worse, as your mother would always say. You were still exploring the place when you heard a noise, frail but shrill voices of old women arguing in hushed tones. You turn the corner to see three grey heads, cloaked in white, one hunched back, one tall and lean and one short and plump.

“Excuse me” you cleared your throat and said.

They shush each other, nudging and pushing to stand facing you.

“Yes, Pers-” the fat one is about to say but gets smacked by the lean one.

“Yes, your Majesty” the lean one says at last with her head bowed down.

You are confused with the honorary name but you got more important things to ask.

“What is this place? How did I come here?”

“What, why, where it’s all the game of destiny. Nobody but she knows everything.” croaks the hunched one leaning on her shaft.

“But we are destiny! Who’s the ‘she’ you’re talking about, sister?” the lean one squeaks to the woman at her right.

“Oh!” she responds.

“Shut up, you old hag!” the fat one retorts to the hunched one who gets offended and comes at her fists flying.

“Who did you call an old hag?” and they started bickering again.

You blink watching their fight trying to catch the flying words in the chaos.

“Shush, you people!” You say, hands lifting to calm them down.

“Yeh said you’re destiny. So shouldn’t you know why and how I came here then?” You ask, head turning to each of their wrinkly sunken faces, trying to find their webbed grey eyes.

“Oh, why? Because he brought you here!” The fat one exclaims looking at you. You are about to ask who but the lean one speak up.

“And he wouldn’t want to see you out here” the others agree to her shaking their heads.

“But who are yeh talkin’ about? Who’s this ‘he’?” You are desperate and annoyed and your voice makes that clear.

“He!” the lean one says clapping her hands and pressing them to her cheeks with a dreamy smile and faraway look in her cataract eyes.

“The most charming one in this realm” she coos swaying.

“In all the realms!” the hunched one corrects hissing through her sparse teeth.

“And he is such a sweetheart” the fat one followed.

“Oh you know, yesterday I saw him with Cerberus, watching him tear some kid’s limb apart and he had that smile and…by the name of Styx” all of them did an exaggerated sigh.

“Ladies, focus!” you yell at them, your annoyance knows no bound now.

“What is it child?” the fat one snaps and you jump back at the reaction. “I’m sorry your Majesty” she apologize instantly looking down with guilt but when you hear that word again your dam breaks.

“What’s with that anyway? How am I your Majesty? Who brought me here? Why am I here? Will anyone tell me anything?” you scream with face flushed and heart throbbing in your head.

“He be the one who brought you here, he be the one you seek. Your Majesty should meet your Majesty. That’s what your fate read” saying this all of them disappear in a whoosh and you stand there puzzled.

You think for a bit what they said though it makes no sense to you. They did say something about meeting the Majesty so that would be the King though you are just shooting in the dark here. But anyhow meeting the King does sound better than trying to talk sense into some deranged old people.

You resume your aimless wander in the poorly lit halls of the place you still don’t know anything about. Did they say something about Styx and limbs tearing? No, you don’t even want to entertain the idea of that possibility and just hope that it is one of the lost human kingdoms.

You take turns after turns but it feels like you are just going around in circles, everything looks the same. Black steep walls and huge golden doors. You know you are lost and there is no one in sight so at last you give up sitting in the middle of the corridor with your legs crossed waiting for someone, anyone to walk by.

You cannot say if you fell asleep, though it won’t be a surprise even if you did as all you were doing was to stare into the flickering flame of the torch, but a raspy voice startled you out of your trance.

“Oi, this ain’t your bed” you opened your eyes to see a black curtain in front of you but as you looked up you realise it is someone’s feet, that someone being a guy whose face is hidden in the shadow as he is staring down at you. You jump back away from his feet.

“I wasn’t sleeping here” you mutter unsure to how true is that statement and stand beside him. You look up to him to find that you only reach upto his chest. The first thing that catches your eye is his hair. Where all the other men you have seen got long locks, his hair is cropped short. It does seem a bit odd but also the way his small curls popped from the sides made you want to reach up and play with them. But then you saw him smirking at you and the frown you had from seeing his hair deepened.

“What’re yeh doin’ here?” Your forehead crinkles further trying to remember and then gasped when it all came back to you.

“I was lookin’ for the King” you say with your face lighting up. He chuckles a little at your reaction and you feel stupid.

“And what would you have t'do with him?” he asks looking at you and then you see his eyes which strongly reminds you of your spring blooms and the fresh leaves making you feel homesick.

“Are yeh fine?” He asks hands raising to support you but you step back instantly.

“Yuh, just got a bug I guess. I’m sorry but who are you?” you ask with a small grateful smile to the seemingly genuine and hopefully more sane stranger in front of you.

“Does it matter?” he says non-chalantly and your smile disappears with an overcoming sudden urge to slap that smirk off his face.

“Well I’m not talkin’ to a stranger in a strange place with no memory of getting here!” Your voice gets unexpectedly louder with each word but he does not even flinch and just smirk and roll his eyes at you. Your jaw drops at his attitude but you really do not want to pick up a fight right now.

“Can you take me to the King or not?” you huff folding your arms on your chest.

“Ah well, I don’t think he’ll be very happy to see you” he shouts behind as he already started walking away and you unwillingly have to chase his tail.

“That’s not for you to decide. Just take me to him” you say between pants. He’s got really long legs to walk that fast.

“Okay, but why would yeh wanna meet him?” You consider for a moment if you should be honest to him but you cannot really come up with any good reason why not to.

“I think he knows why I’m here” he snickered turning around to see you pouting and ‘offended’ written all over your face.

“Oh umm.. d'yeh think he’s the one who brought you here?” he asks continuing with his striding. You think for a moment, you don’t know if you have really considered this and it sounds very unlikely too.

“Why would you say that?” you ask back instead. He shrugs slowing down.

“He’s crazy, he can do that”. You are taken aback at his audacity, for whatever this place might be, nobody calls their king crazy to the face of a visitor. But then you somehow end up giggling.

“You’re quite the gutsy one calling him that?” To this he does not answer but just shrugs before coming to a halt in front of a door. He looks at the door up and down as if looking for something.

“What is this place anyway?”

He turns to face you with a wide smirk and that combined with the mischievous shine in his eyes makes you worry a bit. He holds the door open for you to enter. You see a familiar room with white walls and golden furniture and you debate in your head if it is the same room

“Hell” he says but before you could turn to look at him and ask what he meant the door closes on you and you can hear the locks clicking on the other side.

You shout for help, to let you go, but nothing. At last you fall to the ground exhausted and betrayed.

You sit in the bright light of the room yet surrounded by darkness. Your mind keeps on reeling, playing and replaying everything that happened trying to make sense but nothing does. All you know is you are in a strange place, most probably Elysium, with loons who cannot talk straight for Uranus’ sake.

You would have cried but are too exhausted to even do that and at last climb into the bed, which you now realise have white and golden satin sheets, and let your sleep take over you hoping to wake up in your own bed.

You wake up to something cold, something wet touching your skin and you squint your eyes to see blurry silhouette working on you. After a few moments when you can focus you realise you are getting a sponge bath from two cloaked women. You clear your voice and ask them all the questions running in your mind but they don’t pay you any attention to the point where you are convinced that they are deaf. They wouldn’t even look at you as you lose your mind interrogating the walls while they just concentrate on soaking your pale skin with the soft sponge. You at last give up on them and try to take in the feeling of being cleaned after what feels like ages.

You breathe again feeling relaxed and your body unknotting under their skilled hands. You were lost in your own world when you heard the heavy footsteps approaching your bed. Your head whipped in that direction to see the familiar smirk which made your hand itch to slap it off. You were too busy fighting off the pain of betrayal to realise the tears threatening to roll down from your eyes. And seeing him you felt like he is actually enjoying your pain.

“'lo li'l one. Hope you had a good sleep” He approaches the bed as those women bow their head and back off and you assume he must be a God, then.

“I did in fact. I had to. ‘Cause somebody locked me in here with nothing better t'do” you say looking away hiding your glassy eyes from him.

His chuckle makes you turn back to him with wide eyes and tears still rimming them. Seeing your grieve strikes something in him as he straightens up looking a bit more sincere.

“I’m sorry, love, but that’s the order. You aren’t to leave this room until the King says otherwise.” He says with genuine concern in his voice as he leans to catch a tear rolling down with his forefinger slightly brushing your cheek. You consider for a moment if you have any choice but to accept his apologies, not like you can fight him if he were to try anything and to be honest you still have no confirmation of where you are.

“You’re King is crazy.” You say with your voice cracking to your dismay. You want to look into his eyes and let him see how hurt and angry you are but with your tears blurring out your vision it becomes quite a chore.

“I know, li'l one.” He says with a dry chuckle and for once you believe that your tears did have an effect. “But he’ll learn his way through, I promise” His eyes shine in sincerity but you are not even looking at him anymore when you think you might just be walking into another trap.

“I’m in Elysium, aren’t I?” You say in a meek shaky voice still looking away. A minute pass by before he says anything.

“Oh what gave that away?” The change in his voice from all the overflowing concern to sarcasm made your head spin. You slapped away his hand still brushing over your cheek and look at him with those teary eyes, subconsciously expecting to uncover his caring side again.

“Well, now that yeh know it, you shouldn’t expect anything less from that loon, yeah?” He says his smirk widening as he eases back in his chair.

“Who are you?” You ask with all your spite and might to not break again.

“Who d'yeh think?” He offers playfully putting up his huge feet on the bed which makes you cringe.

“I don’t know anyone who’d talk about the Lord of Death so disdainfully”

“D'yeh know anything about him?” He bursts out laughing stressing on the ‘anything’ to make you realise that actually you don’t. Though you are the daughter of his siblings and he is the King of one of the three realms, you don’t know a thing about him. In fact, nobody knows anything and thus everyone pretends to know everything with rumors flying all over, of him being a sadist, a womanizer, a cruel heartless creature and what not. Though being born and brought up amongst them you know better than to believe any of that.

He takes in your prolonged silence before letting out a long sigh.

“Yer lucky you don’t” he reassures you though you feel like there is part disappointment and part sadness in that statement. But knowing the reason of neither of them, you push that thought back.

“Are you Thanatos?” You reason out in your head, wondering if the man in front of you is Death himself. You clear your throat of the overwhelming emotions from a minute ago and blinking away the remaining wetness from your eyes to see him jitter a bit as he breaks the gaze and frowns as if to consider it.

“That sounds borin’ and too much calculations, really” he says still frowning at the wall behind you. “Though I like t'make ‘em scream, yeah.” He says at last looking at you with a smirk stretching over those red lips, somehow sending a sense of serenity through you.

“Why am I here?” You ask getting up now that you have come to realise that you were still lying down when he sat beside your bed with legs raised on it. You lean forward hugging your knees as your cheek press against them to look at him. He takes in a deep breathe looking down at his fidgeting fingers for a moment before raising his hand in the air as if to surrender.

“What t'say? Our King is crazy.” You would have been annoyed with his constant eluding if his face wasn’t so comical while saying it and you end up laughing your head off as he joins you in.

“Are yeh hurt?” He asks after both of you calm down. You look at him puzzled to see him roll his eyes at you.

“You fell on your way here, it was hard” he explained and the wheels in your head clicked as it became clear why you felt like you were broken in the beginning. You shake your head in response to which he sighs. You feel a cool wave hit through your body seeing his face relax acknowledging your safety. But the trance breaks soon when he stands to leave.

“Don’t let th'King lock you up again” he says holding the door before slamming it behind him and you cringe at the bang but it somehow instigated a feeling of reassurance.

Days passed though you had no idea as to how many with the windows being eternally clouded with dark fog and you got accustomed to talk to him. He visited you at all the odd hours but was always welcomed.

You ease around him bit by bit, with him talking all the gibberish in his slow slurry raspy voice and giving his signature sneer. You end up telling him all about your life above, about your mother and the shack you lived in and your friends and your followers and he listened to you attentively. As much as you liked to reminisce in the memories of the warmth of the sun and the smell of the flowers, your main motive was not to get him to talk much because despite of how much you liked to hear his slow monotone, his lofty answers weren’t really your favourite.

In all your encounters, you were always too busy in your ranting to notice the soft look in his eyes or the curl on the corner of his lips. He would barely ever say anything but whenever he did it always agitated you and you whined which to your further annoyance amused him a lot. But while talking with him you felt a sense of belonging, there was something soothing about him and you would forget all the questions that were bugging you.

To your surprise, you started looking forward to his visits because without him all you had to do was to be pampered by those cloaked women or observe the room you were caged in, which by this time was etched in your memory inch by inch.

“Your Majesty has been invited to the Royal diner” the meek voice woke you from one of your expedition of learning a crevice of the room.

Hearing this you were both excited and upset. Your long wait to meet the King was at last over but Thanatos wouldn’t be there to annoy you today. You dressed up with the unnecessary assistance of the cloaked woman, who came in with the news, and rushed out being guided by her.

After numerous head spinning turns through the dark corridor you at last reach the diner which was well lit with candles and a long table full of delicacies. You don’t think you saw this much of variant gourmet even in the parties in Olympus. You are ushered to the smaller of the two seats at the head. Turning to look at the empty seat beside you which surely belonged to the King, you question your position on the table. Your eyes wander around the long table, taking in the bright faces of all the Underworld Gods and you frown when you don’t see those green eyes or that smirk.

But when everyone’s attention turn to the back your eyes follow their gaze to take in the tall figure clad in a black cloak and his infamous helm. He stands beside you gesturing everyone to settle down and you look up to him from where you reach upto his chest. You cannot see his face until he turns to face you but when he does you gasp. Even though his face is shadowed by the helm, you would not miss those green eyes and neither the smirk now forming on his lips.

hell is empty (all the devils are here)

robert dreams about jack

(cw: violence, homophobic language, discussion of death)

It’s always the same dream.

In essence, anyway. The setting changes. The woods. A nondescript grey wasteland. His childhood home.

His father always looks different too. He’s young, as Robert remembers him only from an upwards angle, when he’d admired the great oak of a man he hoped he’d one day be. He’s older. His hair receding. Frown lines Robert eventually came to fear. He’s old. Older than he ever lived to be, wisps of grey curling out from under his flat cap. Hands gnarled. Eyes milky with cataracts. A man he died too soon to ever become.

The only thing that doesn’t change is the shotgun, alarmingly solid in Robert’s hands, pointing at the space between his father’s eyes. He waits, watching the man’s composure slowly crumble until he’s a sobbing mess in front of him, begging, and when that fails, praying to whoever will listen for Robert to drop the gun.

He never drops the gun. He likes the way it feels in his hands. This is what power feels like. Not only that, but this is what safety feels like. There’s nothing Jack can do. He’s had his move. Now it’s Roberts turn. He controls the board. Check. He shuts one eye and rests the butt of the shotgun against his shoulder.

Checkmate.

He always wakes when he pulls the trigger, the sound of gunfire echoing in his ears and his heart rattling against his rib cage. The ceiling swims above him, his still foggy brain casting dancing shadows in front of his vision. He pulls himself into a sitting position and tries to ignore the twisting in his stomach.

One night, he wakes with a cry. Vic comes running in. She turns on the light and the first thing Robert sees, wild and darting around the suddenly illuminated box room, searching for whatever danger caused her brother to scream her awake.

The danger isn’t here. The danger is six feet under the ground. No more than in an old wooden box.

Robert didn’t put him there, he needs to remember that.

He reassures Victoria. Tells her it was just a bad dream. No, he can’t remember what about. It can’t have been that bad. Just go back to bed.

Clearly unsure, Victoria turns the light back off and leaves the room, closing the door with a click. Robert lies down on his side, facing the window. He’s fifteen years old, crying himself sick because his Dad caught him doing something he didn’t even realise was wrong. No son of mine. No son of mine. Not a queer. No son of mine. The words never left his mouth, but Robert could hear them echoing around his head for hours after the final punch had fallen.

It was just a kiss. It was chaste, careful, a nervous act between two young boys who were only just starting to know themselves.

Who knew a kiss could bring about the end of the world?

He rolls onto his back, staring up into the abyss where the ceiling should be. He doesn’t know what happens after death. He hopes there’s nothing. He hopes that one day, when this is all over, he can just close his eyes and stop existing. Victoria always talks about seeing their dad again. It’s in an abstract, roundabout way but Robert knows she’s talking about Heaven.

As if.

If Robert’s going anywhere, it’ll be the other place. And he’s pretty sure that, when he got there, he’d relive that night over and over again. He knows Hell like an old friend. He’s not scared, because if death is a choice between oblivion and the pain he’s already so familiar with, then what’s the point?

He closes his eyes. Jack’s face flashes across the backs of his eyelids. Contorted with fear. Staring down the barrel of that gun. The gun in Robert’s hands. Maybe this time he won’t pull the trigger.

He wishes he could believe that.

Maybe the danger is here after all. It lives in Robert’s skull, always prowling, ready to pounce on any good thought he ever has. Ready to destroy everything he loves. Robert wants it out. He wants it dead.

Which is why every night, he pulls the trigger.

Ways To Advance Your Roleplaying Experience Pt. 2: Character Design - Creating a Compelling Look

One of the fun parts of creating your own characters is designing their appearance. It’s easy to rush past this part, and many people do, but you’d be surprised how many roleplaying elements can be lost when you don’t take the time to design your character.

Both how your character reacts in different areas as well as how people interact with them can be greatly influenced by their appearance. For example…

original: Patty was a small thief boy with choppy hair and tight, non descript clothes.

Now that is a pretty generic and simple description, and you can easily play with just (and there’s no harm in that!). However, with a broad description like that, everyone may picture your character differently from how you picture them and proceed to react, respond and just generally interact with you differently based on those ideas. Below are a few detailed descriptions that can all fall under Patty’s original and general description.

Keep reading