#hf dusk

[capricioussun]

Putting a different comment here bc I felt bad being mean to him he has lovely hands that look nothing like a dead spider he’s beautiful <3

#no matter the AU papyrus is gods most autistic creature #horrorfell #hf dusk #love him lots. the ducks. #snow and hail

[snuggles-and-struggles]

A Shower Shared is a Burden Halved

Pairing: bloodorange (us papyrus/hf papyrus)

Word count: like, 1000~

Summary/tone: Stretch helps Dusk with routine maintenance, a little melancholy but soft too

Ao3 link

“alright,” Stretch drawled, sitting back onto his heels. Warm water pattered softly against their bones, a static hush against the shower tiles. The vertebrae from Dusk’s skull to his tailbone glowed dully, irritated. Stretch watched almost dazedly as each intricate joint moved when his husband shifted stiffly at the sound of his voice.

“almost done, sweetheart,” he hummed, tilting his head looking to catch Dusk’s periphery, “hangin’ in there?”

Dusk started turning his head only to stop abruptly with a flinch. The inflammation at his neck responded immediately, brightening starkly against ashen bone.

“easy, love, easy,” shifting quickly from behind to beside, a pang of sympathy struck as Stretch brought a washcloth up to the aggravated cervical vertebrae. “need a break?”

His good eye socket squeezed shut, Dusk swallowed, breathing through the pain until his shoulders relaxed again. From that alone Stretch already knew his answer.

“No,” hardly loud enough to hear over the water, ragged and tired, “I want to finish.”

Frustration briefly flared alongside the concern, angry not for the first time over everything his love had to go through just to take care of himself. But he was careful to keep any hardness from his tone as he took a slow breath and responded, “yeah, i gotcha.”

For a moment, he made no move to shift back into position. Sitting together in the low white noise, carefully massaging Dusk’s neck and upper back through a cushion of cloth, applying mild healing magic in a vain effort to soothe the aches faster.

It wouldn’t work. Dusk’s battered, half-rebuilt body wasn’t very receptive to healing magic anymore. Not that it mattered much - Stretch was never very good with healing aside. All that would help now was getting it over with and waiting the clock out until it was time for Dusk to take his pain medicine again.

Pressing a gentle kiss to Dusk’s cheekbone, he repositioned himself to the cushion behind him, picking up the smallest, most brittle brush first. “ready?”

A minuscule bob of his head was all the answer Stretch needed, starting back up where Dusk’s hips met his sacrum. He worked methodically, patiently, ignoring any involuntary flinches and muffled whimpers. It was necessary, he reminded himself. Necessary.

Few of Dusk’s medical routines were pleasant, but due to its lengthy nature, deep cleaning all of his joints was Stretch’s least favorite. He suspected it was Dusk’s, too, often leaving him on the brink of too sore to so much as stand, let alone walk. And while he didn’t say it anymore, Stretch was also well aware how guilty his husband felt over needing so much help for all of his maintenance.

Between changing brushes, Stretch took another short break to massage Dusk’s hips. Placing a gentle kiss to what remained of the back of one rib, a spot Stretch was certain still had feeling, he started humming. Singing a word or two aloud, under his breath. The stilted movement of Dusk’s rib cage slowed, as did Stretch’s hands. It wasn’t until Dusk’s breathing had fully leveled, plus a few moments more, that Stretch returned to task.

By the time he was on the last brush, Dusk was trembling faintly, head bowed and fully exhausted. The magic in his arms and legs had settled, but his spine was still brighter, especially the lower it got, down until it met the fresh raw spots at his sacroiliac joints.

“all done, sweetheart, all done,” a rasped whisper as he reached up to soothe a hand over his love’s shoulder. Not so much as a flinch in response, and Stretch sighed.

Tucking the brushes back into their pouch to dry, he was mindful of his own stiff joints as he finally pushed himself back to his feet, stifling a groan. Turning the water off, it was a short walk to where the towels hung, being gently warmed on their electric rack.

A novel concept, but a brilliant one. He was grateful to whoever thought it up every time he’d carefully wrap one around Dusk’s shoulders and he’d ease with a deep breath. This time even his tremor faded as Stretch meticulously dried him, hardly even brushing the towel over any spots still glowing.

He was much less delicate with himself, drying off briskly as he headed to the clean clothes, folded and waiting primly on the sink. With practiced ease, he slipped his own on as he made his way back. Dusk had hardly moved since the last time he spoke, the eye lights in the left side of his skull few and faded, his right eye light missing completely from his barely cracked open socket.

Stretch stood in front of him for a moment, taking in the pallor of Dusk’s ever too-thin bones, his gangly form hunched in on himself and looking much smaller than someone his size should be able to. A conflicting throb went through his soul, love and grief too tangled to tell apart.

“dusk, sweetheart?” Slowly, he pulled the damp towel off of his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Tucking the clothes under one arm, he delicately cupped the side of Dusk’s jaw, “love? we gotta get you dressed now.”

He wondered, distantly, how his voice sounded so steady, smoothing his thumb over a rough, cracked cheekbone. He moved closer, Dusk’s forehead nearly pressed to his chest, using his other hand to trace the sutures and surgery lines on the back of his skull.

“c’mon, starlight. then we can go to bed,” he breathed, curling forward to rest a soft kiss on his husband’s crown.

A shaky, deeper breath answered at last. Stretch pulled away just enough to find Dusk’s eyes, unlit and unfocused still, but he blinked and tilted his head carefully to attempt to meet Stretch’s gaze.

“clothes, then nap. how’s that sound?” The hand behind Dusk’s skull moved to trace a knuckle fondly down his good side, Dusk’s eye drowsing shut at the sensation.

As they gradually, patiently set into motion, some of the tighter knots in Stretch’s soul uncoiled. Pushing and pulling the fabric into place, supporting and helping guide Dusk’s limbs. It was almost like an awkward dance, and the thought brought a smile to his face.

Soon enough they’d inched their way to the bedroom, Stretch easing Dusk in all his slight weight down onto the “nest”. With a worldweary sigh, he finally settled, dozing almost immediately and Stretch could only breathe a soft laugh at the sight.

It was the work of a minute to get a blanket settled over him properly, but Stretch still had one more box to check before he could cuddle up, too. Which itself was easy enough, downstairs and back again with pills and water for when he’d need to wake his love to take them. No shortcut for the return trip, to make sure it didn’t tamper with the medicine, but by the time he was back, three cats had already claimed their spots around their favored skeleton.

“move over,” he laughed quietly, configuring himself around the cats as best he could. A spark of warmth lit his soul at the soft, rasped chuckle by hat followed.

A long, slim hand found its way behind Stretch, the cats grudgingly shuffling to accommodate as he snuggled closer.

“Thank you, love,” Dusk murmured, voice strained, but so obviously tender.

“anytime, starlight.” His soul ached with how much he meant it.

One more kiss, a brush against his teeth proper, and then he settled in, quick to follow his love into a peaceful sleep.

#papcest #spicyhoney #sh bloodorange #sns fic stuff #papship

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Wake-up call

Ursal rose with the sun. For him, it was an easy enough choice, but he supposed it was still nice to have had one. Kepler-21289b was good like that, really. He couldn't imagine what it must have been like back on Earth, where his ancestors had been forced into the sort of diurnality he was choosing freely here.

It just didn't suit some people. There had always been night owls, like his room-mate Gyla, who found themselves most alert in the other half of the day, when it was a bit darker, a bit cooler, and their senses were freed up to focus on other things. Nocturnal - whatever their biology said. Technology had long since taken over there.

Back on Earth, their eyes had struggled with artificial lights and electrical screens, unable to see by the pale glow of their home planet's moon and stars alone. Not so on Kepler-21289b. As well as being hospitable to colonists, their adopted home was backlit by a particularly bright satellite of its own, the two bodies orbiting each other with the intimacy of two Jharé dancers.

Each dusk, the new sun - a red giant formerly designated HF 183241 - set, and darkness reigned for a few hours. But then came the second dawn, the morning of the moon, and the whole exoplanet was bathed in silver once again. It was another day, for those who hated daylight. Gyla swore by it. She woke with the moon, retired with the sun, and didn't understand how Ursal could possibly do it the other way around.

There were some complications - scheduled time under a UV lamp, prescribed vitamin D supplements - but otherwise they lived largely equal lives. Gyla worked by twilight, travelled the moonlit city with her fellow selenophiles, enjoyed the cooler climes of the mist-cloaked parks and silvered Korball courts, and was tucked up safe in bed by the time the red sun breached the horizon.

Ursal, rising at that time, didn't see much of her at all. That was the arrangement that they'd come to, sharing one apartment between the two of them, like so many others who'd paired up with their other halves. He took the first day, and she took the second. He liked his mornings sunny side up, whilst she preferred the false dawn that came softly later on. It worked.

If they needed to communicate, they simply left each other notes. Mostly just domestic stuff. OUT OF KAFF JUICE, SORRY. It was rarely good news, but they both tried their best to make the other's life as easy as possible. FAULTY GENERATOR, TECH COMING YOUR NOON. Being considerate was usually repaid in kind.

For a pair of strangers, they had a lot to talk about. Ursal and Gyla shared a kitchen, a wetroom, a lounge. A life, split two ways. There were cleaning rotas to stick to, bills to pay - and, amongst all of it, the chance to get to know their other half a little bit. THANKS FOR THE BIRTHDAY FLOWERS. Ursal had only met Gyla a few times, on late nights or early mornings, but she'd always seemed sweet. HOW DID YOU KNOW OREPHAS WERE MY FAVOURITE?

On this particular rosy-fingered dawn, Ursal stumbled to an empty kitchen and poured himself his usual cup of kaff juice to start the day. The tiles were old-fashioned spacecraft steel, but they glowed a ruby red in HF 183241's morning rays, as if they burned a thousand degrees Kelvin. In truth it was a gentle warmth, and Ursal took his beaker closer to the window, so as to better bathe in them himself.

There was a single note affixed to the sill, in the same spot where Gyla had left a dozen of them before, knowing his routine as intimately as Ursal knew hers. Perhaps they were like the planet and its moon, in that sense, or the planet and its sun. They orbited each other, day after day, a grew accustomed to the shape of the other's gravity: the pull of another body next to theirs, the rhythm of their movements and the beauty in the wake they left behind.

They'd grown close in that understanding, but Ursal knew they were doomed to always keep their distance, like the planet and its partner - held close, but bound to stay apart, no matter how many times they performed that perfect courtship dance. As things stood, the laws of nature meant that they were cast in those roles, gazing longingly across their brief expanse, never destined to be closer than they already were. Never destined to be close enough to touch.

There had been no sign of Gyla this morning, which was normal, but neither was there any trace of her existence here last night. Usually there would be dishes on the drying rack, empty food containers in the compost, and maybe even breakfast lying out for him, if she was feeling in a generous mood. Today, there was nothing, or at least nothing that Ursal could notice. Only this note.

THEY'RE HERE.

He picked the scrap of paper up, and was surprised to find the reverse side covered by a single word, its letters scratched out in a hasty scrawl.

RUN.

#writing #short story #creative writing #original fiction #appropriately finishing this at 5am

[tuckett-107]

Hello anyone who probably wasn't asking I'm going to do an about me so you know who I am =w= let's get in it shall we?

Name: Skylar (but I go by Ringtail)

Age:25

Gender identity: Non-binary

Pronouns: She/They

Species: morphing Raccoon

Height: 5'5-human 3'0-raccoon

Hobby: Artist and Antiquing

Job: Goodwill (not specifying)

Disability: Autistic (hf), slow learner

Fave bands: Gorillaz, Melanie Martinez, studio killers, get scared, ghost town, Elton John, some Elvis, twisted sisters, any R&B artist

Art platform: I'm an Traditional and digital artist

Fave place: Virginia Beach (so far)

Preference: DemiPan

Significant other(s): Dusk, and Puppy (not using real names)

Little tidbits: I'm pretty outgoing but don't like social interactions, at one point I started calling my pronouns She/They/Crocodile XD (it was an inside just between me and my friend)

I do have discord and I have Instagram, if you want to know them I'll make links.

Names on both:

Instagram: ringtail_626

Discord: Ringtail _626#3380

#fypfypfypfypfypfypdypfypfypfypfypfypfyfpfyfpfyp #raccoon girl #art of tumblr #new artist #artblr #artists on tumblr #women artists #female artists #drawing #artwork #raccoon art

[pa3am]

2022 Okt. CW & Radio-activity

Early this month I received my new (second) CW Actio40 Award with the first sticker.

So now continue to “rock-on-40″ and try to be as active as possible, mainly at the upper-9 KHz part of the 40 meter band. Last month I noticed the website of the International CW Council: https://internationalcwcouncil.org/ which is interesting e.g. the  CW Events Calendar, History of Morse Code, and the MST contest.

I feel pretty comfortable around 20wpm in my usual ragchew qso’s in English. In  Dutch its harder, because of less experiene or practice? I will try to speed up a bit, so already tried some longer QSO’s with PA stations.

AGCW: for the BUG-fans the AGCW  would like to invite you to the next bug evening  taking place on Wednesday, October 19th 2022, from 19.00 to 20.30 UTC   Please find the contest rules on our home page  https://www.agcw.de/contest/sta/ We would be glad if you can take part and your log would be very much welcomed. Good luck and have fun ! 73 Volker, DJ9BM

My Yaesu Rotor Controller G-600RC wasn’t functioning good anymore. Last year I already did the broken belt repair, which I now found back on http://www.oz1jte.dk/Yaesu_Rotor_Fix_Page.html

My problem now was a very low turning speed and  The rotator going right with the needle tracking the rotator movement however it does not move at first and then only a little when going left and only catches up when I release the left button. It was not the belt this time. I found a description of the fault and solution as well on Youtube when searching on G600RC with a strange problem.  There is a problem mostly with the 500 Ohm-potentiometer inside the rotator, which is known to give bad contact after many years of operation. You can order a new pot at "UKW-Berichte", maybe also WIMO in Germany. I ordered at UKW berichte, just wait a few days.

For NTC-QSO Party the use of N1MM is recommended. I used N1MM once in 2021 PACC with the PA6VC-team. When in contest it was OK but, as I was used to WriteLog, I never used N1MM until sofar, there was just no need. I succeeded in updating the N1MM program and installing the UDC file NTC_QP. Now getting used to it before the next QP.

On September 17th, while visiting the HF-day in Eefde, I attended the 60m band presentation of Henk, PA2S. His presentation (almost scientific appoach) had the title “between dusk and dawn” as this band is a real Night-band, just inbetween 40 and 80 meters. recently I took a closer watch on 60m, Cluster RBN on EU-spots only.

FB CW QSO with Martin G4ZXN, SKCC member, with his 40M Paraset. 5Watts, 569 signal. I told him I already have ALL parts to build a Paraset, but never started building. He told me to hurry and asked me to visit his QRZ.COM page. I was off-band and amazed for more than half an hour! Picture below shows actual status of my Paraset project.

Oktober 19th: Schlackertastenabend (Semi Automatig Bug Evening) 1,5 hours old fashioned CW with my 1954 Vibroplex Lightning Bug. 27 QSO’s.

Oktober 20th: NTC-QP: Joined using N1MM, 10 QSO’s 40m.

Actio40 Oktober completed: 105 QSO,s - 96 in Top-9 segment - 1 x NTC _ 10 x SKCC - 27 DXCC.

Checking QSL information I came upon PA3GSV QRZ.com page with FB Home Brew projects, like “A mate for the Mighty Midget”

Saturday Oktober 29th, visited Dag voor de Radioamateur in Zwolle or the VERON HAM RADIO CONVENTION 2022. See https://dvdra.veron.nl/english/visitors/

To be continued, 73′ Gerrit

#CW #Morsecode #PA3AM

[nighttimepixels]

@llamagoddessofficial issue? Oh no, woops, I think you mispelled ‘perk’

✧∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

#lilytale #lilytale dusk #aka lilytale fem hf sans #llamagoddessofficial #(i wanted to warmup with dusk so you became the snuggle sketch target oh noo~) #my size difference loving ass: #all the better to SNUGGLE u with #Dusk is very accomodating when it comes to these things #if she likes u enough she'll just... pick u up and plop u on one shoulder #there we go perfect - safe AND in sight AND touching #perfect #>:3c

[lolita-doodles]

a doodle i have made of Dusk a while back

Dusk is by @nighttimepixels

#Dusk #hf!sans #doodle #digital #my art

[talesofdivergence]

Post surface recovery fun facts and tidbits about the HF boys!!

Pillows in place of furniture. Since Dusk is too big to fit on furniture comfortably, Clips buys a ton cushions and pillows in place of them. They’re centralized to spots furniture would be, but they still keep a few chairs around for Clips and on the off chance they have company. Dusk’s bedroom floor is mostly pillows, though he doesn’t use blankets. On top of easily overheating, they make him feel claustrophobic.

Books. Books everywhere. Even though Dusk’s vision is significantly impaired, there are bookshelves stuffed with books in the living room, studio, and bedrooms. Clips is more than happy to spend the day sitting near wherever Dusk is and reading aloud.

Garden. Dusk keeps a flourishing garden in the backyard. From fruits and vegetables, to herbs and exotic flowers; Dusk grows just about anything and everything that isn’t invasive. He especially loves to plant things for hummingbirds and butterflies. Not to mention having their own stock of produce significantly reduces the number of shopping trips. And they’re always happy to share with neighbors and friends.

Writing. Eclipse has taken up writing. Scientific journals, monster history, recipes his brother’s created. He’s found it calms him significantly, and he can get lost sitting at his typewriter or computer, ticking away lists or thoughts, and it keeps him grounded. Dusk has convinced him to publish a few things, but overall he does it for himself.

Painting. Dusk loves to paint. Mostly landscapes or animals, his work is incredibly expressive, riding lines between impressionism, realism, expressionism, and abstract. There’s a good reason it becomes acclaimed, and it’s not just the mystique of its anonymous creator. Sometimes, though, he likes to paint on himself or his brother. There’s something very therapeutic about it, and Clips isn’t going to complain about an excuse to take a long warm bath afterwards (even if it does tickle).

Cooking. Cooking is still a bit of a process, and Dusk usually requires at least a little help from Eclipse. There’s almost always a lot to clean up afterwards, but with patience and practice, it’s almost as easy as it used to be. And he’s even taken up baking, from time to time. They’re both vegitarians now.

The sound of silence. It’s hardly ever quiet in their house. Whether the radios on, there’s music going, or Clips is reading, there’s practically always something to keep things from being too quiet. Dusk doesn’t like television, since it’s all just humans on display, so they don’t keep one. Instead, they rely on radios and vinyls, sometimes the internet, for their background noise.

Water. Large, open bodies of water upset Dusk terribly, too similar to Waterfall, but he’s rather fond of smaller doses, like ponds or small lakes. There’s one in a secluded park not too far from their house they visit from time to time, and they’re considering putting a koi pond in the garden, though Dusk is still a touch worried about keeping pets besides their cats. He’s also not overly fond of baths but he loves showers, the one they have custom to better suit his size, so long as he isn’t standing, with a rainfall style shower head fitted into the ceiling. Clips has found him curled up, napping under a warm, gentle sprinkle more than once.

Cats. They usually have around four or five cats, all adopted, usually the tougher cases, and they’re always equipped to help with whatever medical problems they have. They all warm up to Dusk quickly, he’s practically a cat whisperer, and most of them can be found napping in his nest of pillows, or keeping them company in the garden.

As always, you’re more than welcome to ask questions about these two, or the HF world!! I’m always happy to talk about them!!

#I love them a lot 🥺 #sans #papyrus #undertale #horrorfell #underfell #dusk #eclipse #wanderings

[fehelp]

Hoshidan Festival Xander

Overview

Summer Festival Xander is a good ol’ colorless dagger unit who really would have liked to have been armored, but alas he’s just an infantry dancer (as if that’s a bad thing). He has high atk at 35 and very high def at 34. His spd is miserably low at 17 and his res is a point lower at 16. Think Arden as a dagger unit without access to armor buffs. He has a weapon that is effective against cavalry foes, which is okay I guess, and also just a little thing called Close Counter. He’s a pretty good unit overall, as long as you use him right.

Pros/Cons

+ Good def and atk

+ Close Counter and Dance? insane

- Horrendous res and spd

- Limited availability

Similar Units

Like I said, his stats are akin to red armored unit Arden who has great def and terrible res and spd. They don’t really have any other similarities, but that’s the boat Xander is in. He’s not going to double anyone without help and he’s going to die very easily to anyone targeting his abysmal res.

The other dagger dancers, PA Olivia, HF Elincia, and HF Ryoma all have different focuses (more offensive/supportive) so he’s pretty different from the other kids.

Team Options

Everyone loves a dancer yeah?

He cannot deal with mages. MMorgan, Julia, Deirdre, etc can help protect him. Julia and Deirdre especially, because he’s not going to have a fun time against dragons who will target his lower defensive stat and totally murder him. 

He can be a tankier unit, otherwise. Bait out the phyiscal units and murder them? That is his modus operandi. 

IVS

+Atk or +Def are pretty much obvious. +Atk will get him to a scary 38 atk and +def will get him to 37 def, increasing his bulk quite a bit.

HP is his best kept neutral stat to survive longer.

Spd and Res are both not missed if you drop them. He comes with Quick Riposte to deal with his poor spd and going from 16 to 12 res isn’t much of a game changer. However, res is a superBANE so he’ll lose 4 points instead of 3 so consider that.

Builds

he dances like a dad

Weapon: Dusk Uchiwa+ (Def ref), Barb Shuriken+ (Def ref)

Assist: Dance

Special: Bonfire, Ignis

A: Close Counter

B: Quick Riposte 3

C: Odd Def Wave 3 is great on him

Seal: Close Def or Distant Def will work wonders

So for cheap you can make him a tanky boy who can also murder some cavalry units. Brave Lyn? Please, no worry for this tanky man. Reinhardt? uhhh kinda scary but that’s ok we can deal with that. This is just budget and is all around pretty good.

If you would prefer to give him more versatility, changing his weapon is not a bad choice. In that case, you might prefer Ignis because it’s cooldown will be a little shorter. But it’s up to you!

Get skills from...

Barb Shuriken+: 5* Kaze

Bonfire: 4* MRobin, Adult Tiki

Ignis: 4* Henry, Leon, Boey

#feh #fe #fire emblem heroes #fire embem #xander #summer festival xander #what have i been doing summoning micaiah and elincia i need this man #daddy xander needs to come home why did i just Brush Over him #im a damn fool

[chiefbasementcreator]

Story not mine, i took it from HF

Content notes: This story contains mass gang rape, bestiality, body modification, and brainwashing. Outside of sexual content, it also implies attempted genocide. The damage to Silvermoon was less visible in the Court of the Sun at dusk. Liadrin, at least, had always felt the city the most beautiful then, even before the Scourge had invaded. That it could remain so now even with the city having fallen meant something, she was sure of it. Probably some sort of metaphor. She stood in the Court and tried not to fidget as she waited for doom to come. The ragged survivors—or perhaps the better word was escapees—of the war between Gilneas and Silvermoon were present. Nine in ten of them were women. Too late, Liadrin had come to understand this was by design. Male and female blood elves alike had been captured by the Alliance—well, really, the savage Gilneans—but when capture was not possible, men had more often been killed. The women would, through some trick of fate, manage to escape...although in truth they had been allowed. Relatively few blood elf women had died in this war. Lord Lor’themar had been killed in the first pitched battle. Halduron Brightwing had disappeared less than a week later. The command ranks had been hammered by the worgen attacks, whether from casualties or captures, until only Liadrin was left, and she had to fill the ranks with whomever she could find. Liadrin’s scouts had brought reports to her of the Gilnean rape camps. Even then she’d hesitated to believe until they liberated a captive from them, and brought her before Liadrin. She had recognized Alandra, one of her most loyal blood knight captains. She cried as she explained what had been done to her—not from shame, or anger, or pain, but sadness. She begged to be given back to her owner. “I have to be a good girl,” was all she would say when asked why. When Liadrin had denied her, she went quietly into a cell, only to torment her guards by masturbating while loudly reciting how they’d learn to be “good elf bitches”, like she was. These were long, explicit, remarkably detailed and done without repetition, lasting for hours, until the guards requested another assignment. Every woman—for even at that point she had no men available for such duty, though she’d suspected at the time Alandra would just change the topic to the wives, lovers, sisters, daughters, and mothers of any men set to guard her—assigned to guard her did the same, until rather than continue to unsettle the entire coterie, she simply left the cell unguarded. Alandra was gone a day later. She left behind a note reading simply, “I need worgen cock. So will you.” Since then, more than half the women who had guarded her had had woken up screaming at nightmares. Liadrin hadn’t asked, but she knew what the subject was. The rest, she suspected, might not think of them as nightmares at all. As the Gilnean king’s entourage finally approached, Liadrin could see no sign Alandra was with them. That was the only outrage not offered by the callow brat. Liam Greymane was borne into the Court of the Sun atop a throne, carried like a litter by four tall, naked blood elf women—a blonde, a brunette, a redhead, and one with ebon locks. Each wore what looked like a spiked dog collar and was blinkered, like a horse. They set the throne down carefully without a noise of complaint and knelt beside it in silence, seemingly awaiting orders. Greymane gestured, and a shadow beside him moved. It was only when it did she realized a person had walked beside the litter-bearers the whole way. Despite the familiarity of her features, she would have taken much longer to recognize if not for her black hooded cape, the only thing she wore besides a corset. It was the corset that had made her hard to recognize. It squeezed her waist grotesquely, so narrow it would have been lethal to anyone not undead. Even so, the effects of the corset alone could not have been enough to have warped her breasts and hips the way they had been. Her tits and ass—the words came unbidden to Liadrin’s mind, but there was no other word for them now—were ludicrous, so oversized in comparison to her height and unnaturally slim waist they should have provoked laughter and not lust. Despite it all, for even on an undead creature it should have been uncomfortable, a faint, vacant smile played about Sylvanas Windrunner’s lips, and that was perhaps most disturbing of all. Sylvanas’s survival was not surprising; rumors that she had been made captive—the only captive—of New Gilneas’s genocidal campaign against the Forsaken had been taken as truth by everyone not at the battle since the Undercity’s fall. But to see her like this, made into some madman’s idea of a sex slave, seeming to enjoy it... Even as Liadrin watched, Sylvanas turned, knelt, and there before everyone in the court, at the signing of a peace treaty, undid the king’s breeches and proceeded to pull out his cock and suck it between her lips. Before Liadrin could tear her eyes away, she saw just how big the worgen king’s member was. Yet somehow the next arrivals were more spirit-breaking, at least to Liadrin. Jaina Proudmoore entered the Court and stood at Liam’s right. She seemed not in the slightest discomfited by the barbarous behavior of the brute beside her. Indeed, she seemed almost satisfied. Garrosh’s mana bombing of Theramore had unhinged Proudmoore, Liadrin had long believed. That she had spared Orgrimmar the same fate meant only that her rage had cooled, not abated. When a Forsaken assassin had struck down Varian Wrynn, it had blossomed white-hot again; never mind that the target had been Greymane, who had after Garrosh’s death during the siege of Orgrimmar only stepped up his not-so-secret anti-Forsaken pogrom. The Forsaken had killed Varian; clearly, Proudmoore believed they deserved extermination. The Forsaken were Horde, the Sin’dorei were Horde, the Sindorei had helped destroy Theramore, however unintentionally. That they were allowed to live at all no doubt felt like mercy to Jaina. Jaina’s presence did not bode well for the peace talks, but the other arrivals actually filled Liadrin with more foreboding. Vareesa Windrunner and Tyrande Whisperwind, despite being elves, seemed equally comfortable with the sexual defilement and humiliation of their defeated foes. Lidarin had respected Tyrande, as a wise leader, cunning opponent, and even a fellow female commander, rare in Azeroth. But the quiet satisfaction on her face led Liadrin to understand she would find no kinship with the high priestess of Elune. It was almost understandable. Malfurion had come to the Eastern Kingdoms not to make war on the Kaldorei’s cousins, but to ensure the forests of Quel’thalas, still fragile and recovering from the Scourge, were not unduly harmed in the war. What little military aid was rendered by the night elves came in healing and ranging. That had not stopped a group of overzealous blood knights and priests from slaying him. So many night elves had crossed the Great Sea from Kalimdor that Stormwind had to send reinforcements to Darnassus to make sure the city would be safe from any possible Horde counterattack. That was all right, however, as there had been no need for Stormwind’s troops in Quel’thalas. The numbers and fury of the Kaldorei were enough. But Vareesa...Vareesa’s reaction was downright chilling. All around her were signs of the subjugation of her kin—of one of her own siblings—separated by only a quirk of magic little more than a decade ago, and yet she appeared no more perturbed than Proudmoore or Tyrande. She glanced at Sylvanas, still happily sucking worgen cock, seemed for a moment more sad than anything, then looked at Liadrin again. She didn’t even spare a glance for the litter-carriers. It occurred to Liadrin that Rhonin had died at Theramore... And so Liadrin’s task was to win something other than bondage from a creature more animal than man who seemed hellbent on raping every blood elf woman alive, and three women so poisoned by rage and hate and mourning they’d help him do it as long as the only people hurt were those they saw as enemies. All the rest of the entourage were worgen. Liadrin recalled abruptly that her scout reports had indicated far more night elves than should have been possible, even by the most generous estimates, were infesting the Eversong Woods, capturing and killing her own outriders and choking off supply lines. With them so occupied, of course, the forces actually assaulting Silvermoon would be almost entirely worgen... Most of the worgen, she saw, were men, but that did not stop the few women from seeming to approve of what went on around them. Wolf-freaks of both genders seemed to be eyeing the shreds of Liadrin’s army, as if they were already picking out the ones they intended to take as spoils of war. The Court grew silent as people seemed to realize it was time for the thing to begin. “Your Majesty,” Liadrin said, bowing. “Liadrin,” he said. His head inclined slightly, and he made no move to stand. So it’s going to be like that. Liadrin’s feeling of doom felt worse. Still, she was not about to just give up. “Lady Proudmoore,” she said, turning to Jaina. She did not give up Proudmoore as deep a bow as she had Greymane. Jaina did not even nod as Liam had. “Liadrin,” she said, again slighting her by omitting her title. She might have accepted it from Greymane; his open misogyny and hateful warmongering made it clear he had no respect for any member of the Horde, and saw all women of the Horde as chattel who didn’t know it yet. But to receive such contempt, on top of the hostility... Feeling shaken, she repeated her greetings to Tyrande and Vareesa, and if anything the responses were worse. Tyrande merely glowered, as if she held Liadrin personally responsible for her husband’s death. Vareesa remained stonefaced. Liadrin had an uncomfortable feeling that it wasn’t her hiding her feelings so much as Vareesa literally did not care what happened to Liadrin or any of the blood elves. And once more, she considered that she could expect it from Tyrande and Jaina, both of whom had lost loved ones and were formal enemies. But Vareesa, even having lost Rhonin, having no pity for kin no more different from her than were untainted Gilneans and the people of Stormwind...was unsettling. These forebodings made themselves felt in a handful of heartbeats. Still, she knew there were not many options left to her, and so decided to open the proceedings. “I have invited you here to find a peaceful resolution to this war,” she said. “That is why I have come,” Liam said, agreeably enough. “Have you terms, Your Majesty?” she said. He gestured. She had to hold in a paroxysm of anger as yet another insult came forward, two more blood elf women bringing up a table. More offensive than their nudity were the collars they wore, a long chain that linked them together so that if either got too far away, the other would be dragged with them. They could not stay far enough apart that they could so much as run without getting tangled together, let alone fight. Even so, as they hurried away, eyes on the ground, Liadrin somehow knew it wasn’t the restraints that kept them under control. As they withdrew, another blood elf woman scurried from wherever the mass of fur and muscle had hidden her. She laid a long scroll on the table, pacing weights on each corner. Another flicker of rage and humiliation came over Liadrin; she recognized the weights as armor buckles, the craftsmanship and design only found on the heavy plate of the most honored blood knights. She had several such devices on her own armor. Before that shock had worn off, she suddenly spotted a familiar tattoo on the bicep of the blood elf scribe, and recognized her as Amplise, the ranger-general she’d appointed after the disappearance of Brightwing. Amplise saw the moment of recognition, had been looking for it, smiled and winked before withdrawing. It felt like there was a pit growing in her stomach, bottomless and chilly even before Greymane said, “In summation, your surrender must be total and unconditional.” Liadrin could feel the wave of despair pass through the assembled scraps of what had once been a proud army. She shared in it, and was not able to entirely able to keep it from her face and voice as she said, “I—we cannot accept such terms.” Her eyes involuntarily followed his hand as he patted Sylvanas’s head and her sucking became louder in the quiet of the Court. “Then what terms would you accept?” he said. There was a mocking quality to the question he wasn’t even trying to mask. Abruptly she found herself thinking of him not as a wolf, but a cat, a springpaw playing with its food. She took a breath and started with the best she could hope for. Not the best she could expect, but the best she could reasonably hope for. “The Sin’dorei will retain full control and sovereignty of Quel’thalas—” “The Alliance will not accept that,” he said. Liadrin licked her lips, and started again, lowering her expectation. He hadn’t even let her mention their full and formal succession from the Horde. “Silvermoon shall remain solely ruled by the blood elves—” “Any terms where you retain control of Silvermoon will be categorically rejected,” he said. She bit her lip, but soldiered on. “All blood elf prisoners will be immediately released, to be repatriated to Horde—” “That will not happen. Even if we were to do so...I suspect many would not go.” He smirked. Staring straight ahead, trying not to see what surrounded her, the noise of Sylvanas giving sloppy, noisy head filling her ears, Liadrin said, “The rights and dignity—” She heard Proudmoore snort loudly, and her voice faltered. Recovering, she insisted, “the dignity of prisoners of war shall be afforded to all who peaceably—” “No,” he said simply, and finally stood from his throne. Sylvanas shifted her position to keep his member in her mouth, sucking away as if it was the only thing keeping her, for lack of a better term, alive. Liadrin was silent; she had nothing else to offer, save that they would not all be raped and then summarily executed. But before she could ask, he gestured again, and a few worgen came forward, detaching themselves from the group that had accompanied him, and they lead more blood elf women. She recognized them all, vaguely. Ellasi, one of the most powerful mages their race had ever produced. Rava, a warlock she’d turned a blind eye to numerous times, as she had remained in control of herself and only ever turned her fel power against the enemies of Silvermoon. Mharis, as devout a follower of the Light as Liadrin had ever known. All three had been in the last battle. As they had not joined the congegration, Liadrin had assumed them dead or captured. Clearly it had been the latter. Unlike every other captive blood elf, they were not naked,but their robes were shredded so that they might as well have been. Ellasi’s surprisingly-big breasts bounced as she entered, dark nipples thick and stiff and areolas prominent in the cool autumn air. Rava’s body bore extensive scars in what seemed to be ritualistic patterns that somehow emphasized rather than detracted from her beauty. Mharis was surprisingly well-built and muscular for a priest, but what drew the eye were her very large cunt-lips, both inner and outer, very prominent even from that distance. All three seemed nervous and embarrassed. Abruptly, Ellasi cried out and dropped to her knees, turning to the female worgen in human form who’d shepherded her into the Court. “No, no, please,” she cried in a reedy, pathetic tone. “Please don’t take it away!” Liadrin wanted to turn away in disgust at Ellasi’s sudden, public display of weakness—somehow her giving in to the craving for the arcane was in its own way worse than submission to whatever torments the worgen had inflicted on them. She couldn’t, and had to watch as the archmage begged a worgen in human form (the golden eyes gave it away), clearly a mage herself, for an infusion of the magical power she’d drained. “Anything, please, I’ll do anything...” Smirking, the worgen opened her own robes, revealing a lean, firm figure that Liadrin had to admit was very attractive, for a human. Ellasi all but dove in, desperate, mouth open and tongue visible even before she made contact. The worgen mage moaned happily, bracing her hands against Ellasi’s shoulders, a faint blue glow visible around her hands. “Thank you,” Ellasi mumbled between licks, “oh, thank you,” lapping with such energy that her fat tits flopped obscenely. The entire tableau seemed to be transfixed, but the spell was broken when a demon abruptly appeared. A massive felguard, some eight feet tall and almost ludicrously overmuscled, stood by Rava, still casting another spell. No one moved, save for Ellasi and her worgen mistress, and for a mad instant, Liadrin thought Rava had planned a surprise attack, and that the demon would save them. Then she saw it was unarmed, and naked. What little she’d seen of Greymane’s member thus far hinted at a cock bigger than that of any blood elf she’d known, but the felguard’s prick was bigger still. It was hard, but still so massive it drooped, practically steaming with heat in the cool air, the chill doing nothing to shrink it. Fascinated by the huge, veiny, throbbing shaft, Liadrin didn’t notice Rava’s next summoning until it had arrived, a woman of monstrous, seductive beauty. Blushing at her initial reaction to the succubus’s exquisite sensuality, Liadrin found her embarrassment suddenly replaced by alarm. She was hardly an expert, but she could not recall seeing any warlock not pledged to the Legion, no matter how powerful, maintain control over more than one demon for more than a few moments, except in the most controlled circumstances. As the succubus writhed with impatient lust, the felguard practically salivating, Rava began a third summoning, and at last the truth clicked into place for Liadrin. Rava was summoning them, but not controlling them. Another, or others, were doing so, doubtless worgen warlocks in the entourage. As she looked through the cloud, she saw a number watching the scene, vague effort written on their faces. She looked back in time to see the fifth demon summoned, an amorphous but vaguely humanoid shadow with eyes of purple flame. There was a long, drawn out moment as Rava’s former thralls encircled her. Their intent was obvious--as if the imp’s wicked cackles were not enough enough, an erection that might have been a third of the foul little thing’s body mass showed what was on its mind, the voidwalker’s tendrils took on phallic shapes, and Liadrin could only glance at the spiked, foot-long monstrosity that was the felhound’s cock before looking away, fearing she would be sick. But looking away couldn’t stifle Rava’s screams as her onetime minions descended upon her, the gurgling noises of a mouth being filled with an appendage, the crack of a whip biting into flesh, the laughter of demons, and somehow, worst of all, Rava’s muffled cries taking on an unmistakeable ecstatic tone. Nor, indeed, was there anywhere safe to look. Ellasi’s udders wobbled, cowlike, as she cast aside everything in search of the merest motes of magical energy. Sylvanas’s head was a cowled blur as she worshipped the worgen king’s cock, her own monstrously large tits so big that they had enough inertia to only jiggle, though they were so massive it didn’t matter where in the Court of the Sun you stood—if you were facing her, your eyes would be drawn like a magnet to the sway of the freakish sacks of fat. Seeking solace in the other blood elves revealed only crushed expressions of despair, existential agony, self-loathing, even some queasy lust. The worgen crowd, of course, was watching with hungry eyes and rubbing themselves through their clothes, some males already having pulled their massive red cocks out to stroke. Even looking to the heavens was made impossible by the clouds of smoke emanating from those sections of the city torched in the battle. And Mharis was no help, either. At some point she had dropped to all fours and was waving her naked ass and bald pussy at the assembled worgen, mumbling something unintelligible through the noise of what Liadrin mentally called, all evidence to the contrary, Rava’s gang-rape. Apparently driven into a fit of lust by the goings-on, however, what Mharis was asking for needed no translation. To her surprise, none of the watching worgen took her up on it, until the crowd parted and one, also naked, prick alredy out and erect, strode forward. Watching over her shoulder, when she spotted him, Mharis let out a cry of relieved delight, clearly recognizing him. To Liadrin’s confused eyes, his already-huge cock seemed to swell larger still. It wasn’t just his cock, however, but all of him, warping and twisting the way she’d seen worgen change shape before., but rather than turning into his human shape, the shapeshifter—was he a druid?—assumed a between-shape. Already half-human and half-beast, the effect was that of changing three-quarters of the way into an animal, but being unable to decide whether wolf or bear was the goal. Regardless, it lumbered into position on four limbs, the jaws of its oddly-short snout slavering, the too-large ears flicking at Rava’s cries, an oddly-shaped cock bobbing hypnotically between its oddly-proportioned legs before being thrust home. Mharis’s scream was like a dagger in Liadrin’s heart—not from the agony of her comrade in arms, but its lack. There was only delight in her cries as the freakish beast-man pounded at her cunt from behind. Then, she began to babble in a loud clear voice that had made her such a good preacher. “Fuck me, fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck it, fuck it hard, fuck the Light fuck the Light fuck the Light, fuck it out of me, fuck it to death, it’s a lie it’s a lie it’s a lie THE LIGHT IS A LIE!” She creamed the last as a paroxysm of pleasure rendered her body limp; she hung impaled on the behemoth’s cock for a moment, the monster fucking away all the while in deference to her request, before shakily getting her limbs beneath her again. Liadrin felt...she didn’t know how she felt. It was as if Azeroth had been kicked out from under her and she was floating through the Twisting Nether. Other worgen, males and females, started to come out of the crowd to sift through the remains of the blood elf army, picking out women, and even one of the few men, ripping their clothes away or forcing them to remove their armor or drop to their knees. There were no conflicts when two worgen picked one blood elf; they worked together to ravage their prey. The ones not chosen by others seemed to feel the way Liadrin did, unable to resist or fight in defense of their comrades, too stunned and broken by the events of the day to do anything about these latest atrocities. Finally, Greymane came closer. His cock slipped out of Sylvanas’s mouth, and the onetime Banshee Queen made a plaintive keening noise. Without looking, the worgen king slapped her across the face, the sound impossibly loud in the Court, somehow overshadowing the noises of debauchery being inflicted on the mage, priest, and warlock. Greymane circled around behind her. She spun, seeing him up close for the first time, and was surprised. His fur was mostly red, like she’d heard his hair was in human form, save for a ruff of greying fur around his neck. The inane thought that his family’s name was well-earned came to mind, an instant before, with impossible strength, he took her armor in his bare paws and rent it, tearing plate away from her body. More tearing showered the cobblestones with innumerable mail links, chunks of solid plate, and scraps of leather barding, and left her, if not naked, utterly defenceless before him. He spun her around, and she felt his cock—Light, what a cock!—press against her from behind a moment before his huge pawlike hand on the back of her neck bent her over the table. Foolishly, against strength that could rip open magical metal armor barehanded, she resisted, pushing herself up onto her elbows, but no further. She strained, but his hand would not allow it. The treaty he’d brought for her to sign was directly in front of her face. Even now, she wouldn’t be given the mercy of a blank desk surface to stare at. Even now, her eyes could find no sanctuary. “Read it aloud,” he said. She stared at the words, uncomprehending. “Read it!” he barked, and slapped her ass. Once—it seemed a century ago, though it had been mere weeks—Lord Lorthemar had complimented her “commander’s voice”, after the sole battle the blood elves could be said to have won against the worgen. He had died in the next. She had guided her people to a short-lived victory through the power of her voice, which had been audible even over the chaos of battle. Now, as all around her, her people were being molested and defiled, she raised it again, this time to make utterly certain their defeat. “I, Lady Liadrin, commander of the Blood Knights, acting regent of Quel’thelas and ruler of all Sin’dorei citizens thereof, do hereby...” A split second of hesitation and she continued, “S-surrenderrRRR...” Her stammer came as he sawed his cock over her clit. ...his huge, hard, hot cock! She could felt her cunt practically start to drip, somehow, already wet enough to handle the biggest cock in her life. And the heat! It felt like her cunt juices were going to evaporate; she could feel the throbbing of blood through her clit like a second heartbeat, she— A smack on her ass brought her back to the tableau of her people being raped and degraded and enslaved all around her. She was aware her mouth was open and slack, drooling a bit at the corner of her mouth. She dabbed at it with her tongue, noticing Tyrande, Jaina, and Vareesa hadn’t moved. Sylvanas knelt on the pavement where she had been left, pouting; Liadrin realized abruptly that she was not pouting, but that her lips were as ridiculously oversized as her tits and ass, no doubt augmented by whatever twisted process had done her curves. They had no interest in the display of depravity around them, only having eyes for Liadrin being conquered. Something crystallized in her mind, then. On the faces of the four, she saw happiness—but not at the downfall of a hated enemy. They were watching others being indoctrinated into their sisterhood of sexual slavery to the worgen. She had no idea where the realization came from. She had no evidence. But for a moment the possibilities set her mind whirling. Had Greymade let Varian Wrynn die? Perhaps killed him himself, and blamed the Forsaken? Was Malfurion Stormrage’s death not an accident of overzealous blood elves? Could the worgen king have somehow known in advance of Theramore— The king thrust into her cunt, violently derailing her train of thought, her eyes rolling back in her head. Light, she was so full, and it felt like maybe half his cock was still to go... He grabbed her hair and forced her to look down again at the treaty. “Read it!” he thundered. “...s-surrender all titles, powers, possessions, powers, r-rights...” She stammered again as his hips started to move back and forth. She managed to resume without being reminded, though she read now in a quavery voice, her tone flat, with none of her normal strength and charisma, as she read the words without really understanding them. “...rights of myself and all other S-Sin’dorei, in addition to all H-Horde residents of Quel’thalas and other erstwhile holdings of Silvermoon and her p-people...” She panted as he pumped away at her pussy, moist tight fucktunnel accepting more and more of his enormous cock on each thrust. “...t-t-to King Liam Greymane of Gilneas a-and Anduin Wrynn, King of Stormwind and High King of the Alliance...” A drop of moisture landed on the parchment, smudging the name Anduin. A tear? Sweat? Drool? She didn’t know. She didn’t really care. She did understand, now, how the mighty worgen had so easily suborned her people...and Proudmoore, and Tyrande, and the Windrunners... His hands had shifted, one grasping her shoulder, the other gripping her hip. She continued, her voice warbling unrecognizably, but the words still loud and clear over the noise of gangrape surrounding her. Those few blood elves not being claimed as spoils of war by worgen cock could not help but hear as she pronounced the end of their civilizaiton. “All such citizens shall be servants in perpetuity to the Alliance and all citizens, vassals, retainers, protectorates, and allies thereof.” She took a deep breath as she felt him, at long last, as if it were something she’d waited her entire life for, smash balls-deep into her cunt. Something was happening at the base, though, some oddity of shape that was preventing him from hilting himself on every stroke. “This is a r-rightful and just punishment, befitting whose who would be complicit in or accessories to war crimes, among them the s-sacking of Gilneas, the destruction of Th-Theramore Isle, the a-assassinaiton of High King Varian Wrynn, and providng a-aid and comfort to the war criminals of the Undercity, against the r-righteous crusade of Gilneas.” They were tears now, she knew, through whether from joy or despair or some combination she didn’t know, splattering on the vellum, leaving stains. “M-may the Light have mercy on us and forgive us!” she cried. “Long live the Alliance!” He slowed his fucking, rolling and grinding his hips against hers instead. “Sign it,” he said, his growl sounding more like the intimate tones of a lover rather than a threat. She obeyed, another tear blotching her utterly pointless signature. Her king swept her arms from underneath her, twisting them behind her back like a saddle grip, and pushed her face down against the treaty, her tears running it, smudging the ink on her cheeks. That was all right, she realized distantly as he sped up, some thick knob of flesh smacking against her cunt-lips. The treaty was a formality, not worth the vellum it was written on. This was the binding force of worgen conquest, absolute sexual dominance of a population, mostly but not entirely female, that found itself willing to submit to the indignity of it. “Say it again,” he growled, as he turned a blood knight and regent into a cocklseeve. She knew what he wanted her to hear. “Long live the Alliance,” she called out for the benefit of those few people who had not yet submitted to their new overlords. He slapped her ass, harder than before. “Again,” he growled. “Long live the Alliance!” she cried, her tearing blurring her vision. She could feel her tits, midsized and firm, bouncing violently with the force of his fucking. “Again!” he bellowed. “Long! Live! The! Alliance!” she called out, calling out a word on each thrust, the last turning into a shriek as the strange hard fleshy knot pushed into her, straining her cunt so wide, so wide... An orgasm unlike anything she’d ever experienced, better than battle fever or religious ecstasy or sex as she’d known it, slammed into her brain. The tears fell from her eyes. She looked around, and saw the ruination of her people, and knew they were of joy.

Source: http://www.hentai-foundry.com/stories/user/Shadowen/24864/The-Treaty-of-Silvermoon/65071/Chapter-0/The-Treaty-of-Silvermoon

#blood elf #worgen #rape #mind break #wow #story #sylvanas windrunner

[capricioussun]

More old art ft Dusk <3

#snow and hail #horrorfell #hf dusk #horrorfell papyrus #accidentally tagged this as sans sorry </3

[dansalekinphotography]

Casting at Dusk (at Kootenay River) https://www.instagram.com/p/CF-aaxQA-Hf/?igshid=10bli78xzxzjd

[cprnashvilletn]

Learn About Heart-Failure Fatigue And Ways To Fight It

It is common for people living with heart failure (HF) to feel tired that makes even daily tasks, such as climbing stairs, carrying groceries, etc. exhausting. Tiredness occurs because the heart struggles to pump blood efficiently around the body, thus reducing the flow of oxygenated blood around the body. When oxygen levels are reduced, muscles don’t get the energy they need, making even simple daily tasks challenging, which can have a huge impact on daily living and can take an individual to the breaking point.

Thankfully, there are steps people living with heart failure can take to fight fatigue and maybe even raise their energy levels:

Perform Heart-Friendly Exercise- Regular physical activity is one of the most effective ways to fight fatigue that not only increases fitness levels but also reduces the risk of major illnesses. For those living with HF, regular to moderate exercise such as walking, jogging or even chair yoga is usually recommended, which can help to make daily activities a bit easier as the body requires less energy to carry it out. It is essential that you perform exercise at your own pace and it is best to talk to your healthcare provider regarding the right exercise for you so that it can be tailored to what you can do, something that’ll help you maximize your energy.

Watch what you eat- You need to maintain a healthy and balanced diet when living with heart failure. Make sure that your diet in no way should place any extra strain on your heart. A healthy diet mainly comprises fiber, fruits and vegetables. Also, be wary of your fluid intake, and cut back on things that put stress on your body like salt, alcohol and smoking. A heart healthy diet will keep you healthy and boost your energy, some examples of energy-boosting foods include bananas, salmon and oily fish, brown rice, porridge and eggs.

Take a Nap- Do not stay up from dawn to dusk. Take short naps when you’re feeling too tired, which can help restore your energy, give your heart a rest and help your mind recharge to tackle the rest of the day. It is advisable that you set an alarm and make sure the naps don’t exceed an hour to avoid disrupting your sleep schedule.

Use Energy wisely- Prioritize the activities that are most important to you each day and use your energy in fulfilling those in order to make the most of living a more energized life. It is equally important that you track your energy by keeping a log of your activities (daily, weekly) to monitor how your energy levels are changing over time. It will help you in more ways than one- you’ll be able to see if your fitness levels are improving, whether your energy levels are dropping, in which case you can have a discussion with a doctor about what to do.

Make Time for Mental Health- If you have heart failure, you shouldn’t just focus on your physical health, taking care of mental health is equally important. Your mental health and heart health go hand in hand. Try calming workouts such as yoga or meditation to reduce stress and manage anxiety. You can help reduce the impact of depression, stress and anxiety on your physical symptoms by treating them. Also, it will help you to sleep better and energize you enough to stick to a healthy lifestyle, including exercise and heart-healthy eating.

To learn the lifesaving CPR procedure, sign up at the AHA certified CPR Nashville in Tennessee. Get trained in the hands of AHA certified instructors. To know more, contact CPR Nashville on 615-397-9316.

#CPR Nashville

[nighttimepixels]

Sketch-tastic WIP of Dawn’s design since I’ve got a few other things on my plate and might not be able to clean up her sketch for a bit. I’ve got a few more asks already in my inbox asking after her design (sweetly!) so I wanted to at least share this much :)

Plus a little me, at my 5′8″, for size reference _(┐「ε:)_♡

Couple notes about her design below, if you want any clarity! <3

Her ‘clothes’ are patchwork, made by Dusk with fabric donations (rare and hard to come by) from some of the monsters they’ve helped secret away to safety in the Ruins. She’s got bony, sharp growth on her legs and arms, and her feet have gone a bit more feral... her tail bone/tail (period) grew when she absorbed the souls, as well, and so did her antler/horns. They’re very... spooky gnarled tree in effect, and have vines and moss caught/growing on them.

Also, that’s rope looped around her vertebrae, and a chain connecting the edges of her hood/cape.

Dusk made it because she hated seeing how the snow would catch and build up on her ribs ;^; Dawn seemed... mostly unbothered in her new form... but also, will actively put the hood back up if it’s fallen and it’s snowing, and seems to dislike being without it, so ;v;

The main detail missing is just how much her joints and sockets glow red, as well as the many cracks and scars across her bones that are also filled in with that ominous red magical glow. It got muddied in sketch form so I left it out for now, but just know there’s a looot of ‘em. Looks like glowing mineral veins in cave walls, kind of!

#lilytale #lilytale dawn #lilytale dawn design #aka lilytale fem hf pap #big spooky gorl #sorry it's a bit messy but yeah like i said i wanted to at least share this much! #might be a few tweaks but this is the overall gist #(also for the record in this pic Dusk comes about up to Dawn's kneecap so)

[spy-in-the-house]

SpyInTheHouse 674 Fm Podcast 011 11272017

This 3hrs (also) video-streamed 674.fm / SpyInTheHouse all.vinyl November-jam (by Claus Bachor / Psycho Thrill Cologne) with featured tracks by Anthony Shakir, Dwele, The Advent, Chaos/ Mark Floyd, The Droyds, Morphology (2), Circadian Rhythms, Underground Resistance , Jean-Loius Huhta, Blake Baxter, Steve Rachmad (2), Fabrizio Lapiani, Sigha (remixed by Wata Igrashi & Function) (2), Akmé, Slam (remixed by Claude Young Jr.), Biochip C, Jeroen Search (4), Laurent Garnier, Cliff Hanger (2), Waajeed (2), Oniris, Delano Smith, Trevino, Broccoli Bros. vs. Righteous Men, Woo York, Roland Casper, Mark N-R-G (remixed by Roland Casper), Opuswerk, Integer, The Dusk, Philus, Echoplex, Murat, Tafkamp, Terrence Dixon, Klankman, Mode Selector, SCB/ Scuba (2), Egyptian Lover, DJ Roach, Rennie Foster, Timeline, John E.Collins, A Number Of Names, Sexual Harrassment, John D. (2), Roy Ayers, Lil'Justin, Drivetrain/ Derrick Thompson, Da Rebels, Funkadelic (remixed by Moodyman) in this mix. TRACK LISTING: 01 ANTHONY 'SHAKE' SHAKIR: Detroit: State Of Mind [ B2-track from “... Waiting For Russell” Frictional Recordings FRCT-008 US Promo-12" | 1998 ] 02 DWELE [ANDWELE GARDNER]: Early Morning [ A-side from “Detroit City” Rara RARA-003 UK 12" | 2004 ] 03 THE ADVENT [CISCO FERREIRA & COLIN McBEAN]: Insight 01 (Level Z) [ B2-track from “Standers” Internal CCCB-10 UK Promo-12" | 1996 ] 04 CHAOS [MARK FLOYD]: Afrogermanic [ A-side from “Crime Report” Underground Resistance UR-021 / Submerge US 12" | 1998 ] 05 THE DROYDS [ANDY CHATTERLEY & RICHARD NORRIS]: All I Ever Wanted [ A1-track from “EP 1” New Religion REG117 UK 12" | 2005 ] 06 MORPHOLOGY [MATTI TORUNEN & MICHAEL DIEKMANN]: Conductive Force [ A1-track from “In Between” Innerspace Records 001 CRO 12" | 2017 ] 07 CIRCADIAN RHYTHMS [CHRISTOPHE DE GROOT]: Insight [ A-side from “Silicon EP” Triad Recordings TRIAD 001/ Elypsia BEL Promo-12" | 1997 ] 08 MORPHOLOGY : Inversium Layer [ A2-track from “In Between” Innerspace Records 001 CRO 12" | 2017 ] 09 JEAN-LOUIS HUHTA: Viva La Differenze! [ A1-track from “Zoat Zingo” Hybrid Productions HP-1017 SWE Promo-10" | 2000 ] 10 UNDERGROUND RESISTANCE: Electronic Warfare _ Vocal Mix [ B1-track from “Electronic Warfare - Designs For Sonic Revolutions” Underground Resistance UR-033 US 12" | 1995 ] 11 DJ NAUGHTY: Boing Bum Tschak [ A-side from “Boing Bum Tschag / Innerwood” International Deejay Gigolo Records Gigolo-001 GER Promo-10" | 1996 ] 12 STEVE RACHMAD: Ubatuba Blues [ B-side from “Neo Classica” Sino SINO-102LP HongKong 3x12" | 2006 ] 13 BLAKE BAXTER: Energizer [ A1-track from “Energizer” Tresor 038 GER Promo-12" | 1996 ] 14 STEVE RACHMAD: My Tikkie Tik [ A1-track from “Neo Classica” Sino SINO-102LP HongKong 3x12" | 2006 ] 15 FABRIZIO LAPIANA: Weaving [ A1-track from “://about blank 002” ://about blank 002 GER 12" | 2017 ] 16 SIGHA [JAMES SHAW]: Black Massing _ Wata Igarashi 'Dusk Falls' Remix [ A1-track from “Metabolism Remixes” TOKEN-077 BEL 12" | 2017 ] 17 AKMÉ: Inner Islands [ A2-track from “://about blank 002” ://about blank 002 GER 12" | 2017 ] 18 SIGHA: Down _ Function Remix [ B1-track from “Metabolism Remixes” TOKEN-077 BEL 12" | 2017 ] 19 JEROEN SEARCH [JEROEN SCHRIJVERSHOF]: Without Abrupt Change [ A2-track from “Continuum EP” Odd Even ODD/EVEN 012 GER 12" | 2017 ] 20 SLAM [ORDE MEIKLE & STUART McMILLAN]: Dark Forces _ Claude Young Jr. Remix [ A2-track from “Dark Forces Remixes” Soma Quality Recordings SOMA-45 UK Promo-12" | 1996 ] 21 JEROEN SEARCH: Quantitative Transitions [ A3-track from “Continuum EP” Odd Even ODD/EVEN 012 GER 12" | 2017 ] 22 BIOCHIP C [MARTIN DAMM]: Quartz [ A2-track from “Cranefly Warriors Vol. 3” Dj.ungle Fever 2002.02 GER Promo-12" | 2002 ] 24 JEROEN SEARCH: Continuous Or Discrete [ B3-track from “Continuum EP” Odd Even ODD/EVEN 012 GER 12" | 2017 ] 25 CLIFF HANGER [DARREN PRICE]: That's How It Is [ A1-track from “That's How It Is” Underwater Records H2O-007 UK Promo-12" | 1998 ] 26 LAURENT GARNIER: The Man With The Red Face [ A-side from F Communications F-119 Romo X FRA Promo-12" | 2000 ] 27 WAAJEED [ROBERT O'BRYANT]: Shango [ A2-track from “SHANGO EP” Dirt Tech Reck DTR-11 / Submerge US 12" | 2017 ] 28 Cliffhanger: Who's Who? [ B1-track from “That's How It Is” Underwater Records H2O-007 UK Promo-12" | 1998 ] 29 WAAJEED [ROBERT O'BRYANT]: Winston’s Midnight Disco [ A1-track from “SHANGO EP” Dirt Tech Reck DTR-11 / Submerge US 12" | 2017 ] 30 ONIRIS [XAVIER JANUARIO]: Hope & Despair [ A-side from “Hope & Despair” Astropolis Records AR-02.2 FRA 12" | 2013 ] 31 DELANO SMITH: On The Run [ A-side from “Detroit Lost Tapes” Sushitech Records SUSH-039 GER 3x12" | 2017 ] 32 TREVINO [MARCUS KAYE]: Spin Away [ B1-track from “Tactical Manoeuvre EP” 3024 3024-020 UK 12" | 2012 ] 33 BROCCOLI BROTHERS vs. RIGHTEOUS MEN [GREGOR POTTMEIER, JOHANNES EHMANN, TOBIAS KOTH vs. KRISCHAN JAN-ERIC WESENBERG, THIMO U. SEIDEL]: Ruhrschnellweg _ Last Exit Stahlhausen Mix [ B1-track from “Catch It” Thee Blak Label BLAK-005 / Radikal Fear BEL Promo-12" | 1995 ] 34 WOO YORK [ANDREW VANZHULA & DENNIS ANDRIYANOW]: I Am Against _ Ø [Phase] Remix [ B-side from “I Am Against” Soma Quality Recordings SOMA-409 UK 12" | 2017 ] 35 ROLAND CASPER: Chance [ A2-track from “Sons Of Acido [Down With The Pig System #3.0]” Psycho Thrill PT-XTRA 003 Testpress-12" | 2016 ] 36 MARK N-R-G [ALEXANDER TROITZSCH]: Don't Stop _ Remix by Roland Casper [ B-side from “Don't Stop (The Remixes)” Overdrive OVER-062-R1 GER 10" | 1995 ] 37 OPUSWERK [HENDRIK VAN BOETZELAER]: Derzhprom _ Keith Carnal Remix [ B2-track from “Social Condenser” Arts ARTS-030 ITA 12" | 1017 ] 38 INTEGER [JASON ALEXANDER]: Kabbola [ A-side from “Kabbola / Patter” Dystrophic Recordings DYS TEN-001 UK Promo-10" | 1997 ] 39 SCB [SCUBA / PAUL ROSE]: Test Tubes [ A1-track from “Old Media New Society” Hotflush Recordings HF-047 UK 12" | 2017 ] 40 THE DUSK [ROBERT BABIZC]: Drugsky 0023 [ B3-track from “Tatort: 42” Essence 109 / Roadrunner GER Promo-12" | 1996 ] 41 PHILUS [MIKA TAPIO VAINIO]: Kuvio 3 [ B2-track from “Kolmio EP” Sähkö Recordings SÄHKÖ-014 FIN Promo-12" | 1998 ] 42 ECHOPLEX [PETER SLIWINSKI]: Equilibrium [ B1-track from “Entire Sound Spectrum EP” Speaker Attack spa-017 / Axodya CH Promo-12" | 2001 ] 43 MURAT [MURAT GOKSEL]: Photon #3 [ B1-track from “Photon” Data Records DATA-001 US Promo-12" | 1999 ] 44 THANOS HANA [HANA]: Jon Always At 1210 [ B1-track from “TH06” TH Tar Hallow TH-006 NL BL-12" | 2017 ] 45 TERRENCE DIXON: Midnight Hours [ D1-track from “Detroit : Beyond The Third Wave” Astralwerks ASW6170-1 US 2x12" | 1996 ] 46 KLANKMAN[MAARTEN EPSKAMP]: Rashond [ A1-track from “Klankman” TH Tar Hallow TH-002 NL BL-12" | 2017 ] 47 MODE SELECTOR [FANON FLOWERS]: Last Trip [ D2-track from “Detroit : Beyond The Third Wave” Astralwerks ASW6170-1 US 2x12" | 1996 ] 48 SCB [SCUBA / PAUL ROSE]: Freedom For The Fifty [ A2-track from “Old Media New Society” Hotflush Recordings HF-047 UK 12" | 2017 ] 49 EGYPTIAN LOVER [GREG J.BROUSSARD]: Girls _ Re-Mix-Long Version [ A-side from “Girls” Egyptian Empire Records ?DMSR-0664 US 12" | 1985 ] 50 DJ ROACH [RAUL ROCHA]: The Heads [ A2-track from “Universal Shift” Soiree Records Int. SRT-168 US Testpress-12" | 2017 ] 51 RENNIE FOSTER: Infrastructure [ B1-track from “Universal Shift” Soiree Records Int. SRT-168 US Testpress-12" | 2017 ] 52 UNDERGROUND RESISTANCE: Timeline [ A-side from “Millenium To Millenium” Underground Resistance UR. 2001 / Submerge US Promo-12" | 2001 ] 53 JOHN E.COLLINS: All We Need [ A-side from “All We Need / Yeah” Underground Resistance UR-080 US Promo-12" | 2009 ] 54 A NUMBER OF NAMES [PAUL LESLEY, RODERICK SIMPSON, SERLING JONES]: Sharevari _ Instrumental Mix [ B2-track from “Edits 1” Bass 001 / Submerge US WL-12" | 1999 ] 55 SEXUAL HARRASSMENT: You Are Myx Sexual Connection [ A3-track from “I Need A Freak” Heat SV-301 US Promo-LP" | 1983 ] 56 JOHN D. [JOHN DIAZ & CARMEN PADILLA] feat. CARMEN: Hot Spot _ Dub [ B-side from “Hot Spot” 25 West Records TFW-1019 US 12" | 1986 ] 57 JOHN D.: Electro-Bop _ Dub Version [ B-side from “Electro-Bop” 25 West Records TFW-1015 US 12" | 1985 ] 58 ROY AYERS: In The Dark _ 12" Mix [ A-side from “In The Dark” Columbia 44 05115 US 12" | 1984 ] 59 KERRI "KAOZ 6:23" CHANDLER pres. LIL'JUSTIN: Trace _ Club Mix [ B-side from “Ah Baby / Trace” Madhouse Records, Inc. KCT-1003 UK Promo-12" | 1993 ] 60 DRIVETRAIN [DERRICK THOMPSON]: One Love [ A1-track from “Universal Shift” Soiree Records Int. SRT-168 US Testpress-12" | 2017 ] 61 DA REBELS [CURTIS ALAN JONES & LIDDELL TOWNSELL]: Come To Me _ Night Mix [ A2-track from “Mello Madness” Clubhouse Records CHR-120 US Testpress-12" | 1992 ] 62  FUNKADELIC: Cosmic Slop _ Moodymann Mix [ B1-track from “Reworked By Detroiters” Westbound Records SEW3-158 UK 3x12" | 2017 ]

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