Bark o.o
88 posts
Voices-in-dark-violets-head - Voices In DV's Head - Tumblr Blog
I've been thinking a lot about TTRPGs lately, and I particularly want to find something; a system that works well for a light one-shot to play with friends for an evening. Something with the simple system and player agency of Powered by the Apocalypse combined with the ease, shorter playtime, and potential for creativity of The Adventure Zone's Bureau of Balance. Light on number crunching, heavy on roleplay and imaginative thinking.
Anyone got any suggestions?
"it's not enough to just be nice to those who "deserve it"; you need to practice at least a baseline of respect towards everyone whether you personally (with all your limited knowledge and unconscious biases) think they "deserve it" or not"
Absolutely <3
You never know when you'll fall into the 'other' group to someone, and feel the sting of rejection and hatred for no reason other than existing, because of their pre-conceived notions of what you are. Be kind, even -especially - when it's difficult.
While "don't be an asshole to people if you don't want them to dislike you" may seem like obvious advice, the thing is people generally don't act unnecessarily unpleasant to those they fully respect as fellow humans. The sort of casual cruelty we think of as "asshole behaviour" tends to originate from a contempt for the target; the idea that they're a lesser being which ultimately deserves to be treated like this. The idea that the target might have a problem with it isn't even considered, and if said target tries to protest then actually they are the asshole for forgetting their position and disrupting the proper social hierarchy.
That's the fundamental problem with social advice that boils down to "Just try to be niceys :) ". This sort of behaviour doesn't exist in a vacuum and is at least heavily influenced by the power dynamics of social relations (both real and perceived). You can observe this on a macro scale when it comes to bigotry, with structural oppression strongly influencing interpersonal relations, but similar forces operate on a much more localised social-group scale as well. That's not to say that this behaviour is good or natural or inevitable, but the forces at play here must be recognised before we can effectively attempt to change them.
If you're serious about "not being an asshole" then it's not enough to just be nice to those who "deserve it"; you need to practice at least a baseline of respect towards everyone whether you personally (with all your limited knowledge and unconscious biases) think they "deserve it" or not. Otherwise you'd be better off devoting your life to all the petty politicking and gossip and performative cruelty necessary to ensure you stay on top and don't find yourself on the receiving end of such contemptuous mistreatment. If basic respect and decency is a privilege, then you'll always be at risk of losing it
Once a mech pilot hits 20 they age out of the system and the military just drops 'em off and gives them the number of a cheap therapist. If you know where to look, or got a buddy who they send 'em to, you can pick one up real easy and they make for impeccable sex toys. Growth was limited by cockpit size and the massive amount of calories burned by the biolink so you can just pick 'em up and toss 'em around however you like. Real used to pain, too. Best part is, they really know how to depersonalize a kid, they all answer to "it" and just do whatever you tell 'em. Never complain, never ask for anything, just sit there shaking and flinching at loud noise. Oh, and when they die, they're so full of chemicals they can last a few days before you wanna throw 'em out.
Queen of Sin
“Please…I need her…” He began, only to be silenced when one of her large paws flattened against his chest.
“You are no better than a dog, Samuel Griffith. Chasing females of your own species to fill that need within you.” She laughed, cruel and heartless. “A need so craven that it will never, ever be sated. You think your brother an addict? Wait until I am through with you.” Those heavy paws pressed against his pale chest and began to grind in an oddly sensual motion that made him gasp under his breath. “In this city, all dogs bow to me, and so shall you.”
When that tongue ran along his lips once again, more forcefully this time, his mouth creaked open despite the scant resistance he was trying to field. His mind was going mad, thoughts scattering like the fraying ends of thread pulled to their limits and ripped apart. The amorous feeling that came over him was unlike any brought on by alcohol or the provocative nature of the women he took to his bed. They had all been so easy, and he had manipulated them to get what he wanted, even though he thought himself better than such repulsive tactics.
Her tongue entered his mouth, a twisting, living thing that spread its vile taste everywhere it could reach while tickling the back of his throat. His arms were moving, but they were no longer his own, controlled by an invisible puppeteer that made him extend one over the bitch’s back and draw her closer to him... - Excerpt from 'Queen of Sin' by the fantastic WolvesAtYourDoor <3
I have not yet found the tag but following @hemipenal-system is basically the same thing <3
I need to find the tag on here that's like... monsterfuckers, but for the truly monstrous beasts.
I'm not talking vampires or orcs, I'm talking skullbeasts. I'm talking claws the size of your palm, teeth made only to cleave through femurs, snouts for pushing up under the ribcage. Gimme those beautifully deadly direwolves and demons and deep-sea leviathans <3
Board game night but loser makes dinner and winners gets to pin them down and knot fuck them until they're braindead
like half of monsterfuckery is about fear
hey :3
thinking about the way dark violet draws houndooms again
gender is a performance and im getting heckled by those old gay muppets
@technoarcanist <3
I hope I can talk to you more and get to know you better.
I Wonder
If the world can see the fur hiding just beneath my skin, if the girls in the bathroom can see through my lips and straight at my fangs, if the lady at lunch called me “sir” because she saw through my glasses into deep solid brown eyes and feared for her life?
Broken mirrors
My partner told me that they sometimes can see my fur, my paws, my tail. The boy who told me they would “love my body enough for the two of us” yet somehow I still worry that my body will become unlovable.
A dog across the water
Something in their eyes must be off, the changes my body are going through do not show on my skin they show only to my mind and my soul. My fangs, fur, claws and ears are water vapor
Mist coming off a lake
Maybe as my mind changes the shape of my soul, others eyes change to see it too, maybe the way I can see my friends animality, they too can see mine, maybe it’s not just my friends who can see it
I wonder
Do they know what I am, do they know what rests beneath my skin, do they know and love me anyway.
Or do they love me because they can just make out, a tuft of fur poking out from under my sleeve
Run fast, bite hard, bark loud.
Peace, love, and gratitude
-Zith Ipeth
happy old gnoll
A Tribute to the Rock Art of Valcamonica
Life has been so much better since they showed up...
The months of the sun-season are over, and the days are getting colder. Your tribe came down from the higher peaks to seek out the caves you return to each snow. And there, you found them again - the dogs.
Your tribe's and them - you've been running on hunts more and more, as the cooler northern winds blow over the white slopes. You started cautious, many seasons past, but each seems to have learned to trust the other. Two legs and four legs, spear and fang - such hunts have proven bountiful...
But that's not what's making life better for you, is it?
The scent of cooking meat drew them to your fires, to your camps even outside of the hunts. But your offerings kept them, and now they come and go as they please. Even now, to the tribe's celebration of the sun-season's end, to the indulgence of pleasure...
And what pleasure...
Kwōn-cwēn, they're calling you now; the hound-woman. It's a quaint name, even a friendly jab. Not many in the tribe share your tastes, and those that do don't tend to eschew their fellow tribesmen as you do. But they accept you, of course - they even dedicated a part of their wall-murals to you, an appreciation of your curious nature. And curious you may be - but you wear it all with happiness, with pride.
For how can you deny what you love? Their beauty, the earnestness of their gaze. Their eager, indulgent tongues... Your spirit yearns during the flowers-season, when the dogs are away tending to their cubs. And at the site of the packs dancing across the snows as the days lengthen, your soul dances in your chest. For soon your lovers will come again.
And so, the celebration continues, the fires burning under a gaze of the sky-spirits. Under their watch, you indulge in the world they weave, and everything in it. For the others, that means each other, olive-skinned bodies rolling in the firelight. For you...
The touch of fur on skin is like no other.
Oh, what a tribe you may make one day, two legs living with four! What a pack you'll live in, eat in, and sleep in. Maybe one day, every tribesman could have the chance to share in the love of such beautiful beasts. Man's greatest friend, be it on the mountain slopes, on the sun-blanched plains...
Or in the caves, echoing with gasps and moans, as the fire burns on-
Both without, and within.
Divine Spring
---
Art from 2014~
Pouncing Shadow
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"I'm setting off to see my boyfriend!"
The words taste sweet and spicy on your lips, and you can't help but grin as you climb into the little boat, the cats ready at the oars.
Do others know the full extent of your meaning, you wonder?
The palicoes? Ah, who can tell? They're happy enough to integrate with civilization if it gets them a big fish at the end of the day, and their food is to die for, if you can mind the odd hairball.
The hunters guild... perhaps. There's banter and jokes aplenty around the dango counter, a reduction of your work to casual terms and easy-going euphemisms, to the point that 'boyfriend' could mean anything - but you know that more than a couple take nighttime excursions to the flooded forest only to return supposedly empty-handed, and that's not even considering those that sprint off with their Palamutes after every hunt...
The questgivers? ...They had exotic tastes. You'd given more than one married woman directions to a Khezu in your time...
But - as you step onto the lush grasses of the old shrine, and leave your feline oarsmen behind the dense treeline - you wonder about what he knows...
It's not hard to track the gouges of claws in the earth, the ripped branches from trees. The ground rumbles with an echoing rrrrrrowwwwlll as you clamber over moss-covered walls, half-fallen and swallowed by bushes. So, it's not long before...
SLAM. Your head rings, sparks dancing in your eyes, and you're briefly disorientated until the paw pulls away from your head. The last few moments are missing from your memory, and you're gradually, staccato-like, reaquainted with the mud under your cheek, the warm air rolling from above you, the shaft buried inside your rear, sparking waves of aching, painful pleasure...
Nargacuga are relentless. Territorial. Envious. Proud, too - and you've learnt to lie down, grit your teeth, and let your moans be drowned out by his ground-trembling snarls. You let him indulge in your body, and delight in how he carves tree roots in twain like they were twigs, as he fights to force every inch he can inside your warm walls. The last thing that interrupted him was a Great Izuchi, and the crater-like crack in the nearby cliff is still visible, still stained.
You grab pawfuls of grass, warm pre running like a river down the inside of your thighs. And the thought once again rises to the top of the blurred mix of pleasure and pain in your head.
How much does he know...?
He no longer attempts to fight you. You don't need a stinkmink to lure him where you want him, nor a kunai on hand in case his hungers drift...
But does he know what a boyfriend even is? Does he know you as a hunter, see this is a rare reaching across a battleline? Does he see you as a mate, and desires to claim you as such? Or is he merely a beast, a monster - indulging in a warm, fluffy body he can throw to the ground and use...
And honestly...
You're not sure which you find hottest.
Sex isn't enough i need to hunt someone down in the woods
He'd always been such a good boy...
Well, not really. He was a Mightyena after all. So that meant flaunting authority when the mood took him, which was most of the time. And hell, you try stopping a huge hound like him from sitting on the couch...
And it also meant flirting. But when it's a beast with a bite that can crush tree trunks, flirting isn't a handful of daisies. It's a flagging tail when he knows you're watching. It's swaying his balls. It's lying on top of you when you're in bed, the distinctive weight of his sheath on your belly...
But that's not even when he really wanted something. No, you'll know when that happens, because you'd feel the claws, and the panting against your neck, and the cold earth against your cheek as he pulls up your rear.
And his paws would hook around your waist, powerfully, indulgently firm. A hold that means you're not going to escape until he's properly tied you down...
Oh, and that's why you have to keep a wary eye out. Because he ain't just doing it on a lazy Saturday afternoon at home. He'll do it half-way through the night if he's woken up from a lustful dream, dragging you out from under your covers. Or he'll grab your arm in his jaws mid-hike, and pull you into the grasses for some wild indulgence. And whether he plants his rear against your crotch or rams his sheath between your cheeks, you have mere seconds to give him what he wants, before he viciously, indulgently takes it...
...Like I said.
He's always been such a good boy <3
The Glade ----- Old art from 2014~