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imhereformysciencefriends · 6 months

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@mcyt-yuri-week Day 1: Break!

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Forest elves were known to come in many shapes and sizes. Gem was a willowy, slender, waifish, faun-looking elf, herself, with pointed ears and delicate antlers and bright red freckles that matched her hair, and thin, unicorn-like hooves and legs. It did mean that brushing her hair meant brushing her hocks, too, but it was such a natural part of life she didn’t even think about it. Despite her slim form, she wasn’t actually particularly tall, nearly every aspect of her small in one regard or another (except her hair, which was wild and curly and bright flashy red).

But she did have big aspirations! Many of her glade were content to build where they’d always built and live how they’d always lived, but Gem was curious about the border where their forest ended, where it rode up against strange lifeforms ethereal and odd. Gem was sure that as an elf, and a faunish one at that, it was a little rich for her to call something else ethereal and odd, but it was true!

At the edge of their forest, right across a broad river that served as a natural border, weird, brightly colored plants grew, moved in ways that plants shouldn’t move, and Gem swore she saw a ruin in there somewhere.

Now, she wasn’t going to try and stake a territory in the alien landscape. She was a braver elf than most but she would not be doing that, no thank you! She’d just set up her base across the river from it, still in her glade’s cozy ancestral home, shoring up the border of their territory (not that the river needed much help. In terms of forest edges that were in danger of being deforested, this one was generally considered one of the safer spans of area).

And go exploring! Sometimes.

Once she’d made a cute, cozy little cottage for herself, fussed around with her garden a bit, and gotten up some of her favorite pieces of art, she had to finally admit that she was stalling. It wasn’t that she wasn’t curious about the strange place! She was! But it also… seemed kinda dangerous, you know?

But it was time to put on her big girl tunic and see what was goin’ on over there! She cinched her leather underbust around her waist and tucked a couple thin vials of health potion into the sturdy straps, laced up her greaves and gauntlets, corralled her hair back into a loose, low ponytail, and set off! Worst comes to worst, she’d down a health potion and dart back home. Of all the elvish traits she’d inherited, being quick hooved with a keen sense of when to get the heck outta somewhere were amongst her strongest.

But things were off to a good start! The landscape here was beautiful, oh! So much of her wanted to take clippings or seed pods back home with her, though the rational part of her brain knew she should proooobably know a little more about what she was dealing with before she did that. But oh, the pinks and the oranges, the bright vibrant yellows despite autumn still being a ways away, the strange, moving vines and roots that did not radiate any malice or intent. It was gorgeous!

Now she felt a little silly for taking so long to come out here! Eee, she wished she was a better artist, she wanted to show everybody back home how lovely it was here!

And the ruins! Definitely human, though Gem didn’t know of any human civilizations that had lived so close to her glade on this side of the forest. It must be a very old ruin indeed! She pranced through them, light on her hooves, giggling to herself as she went.

The ruins were very, very old, so Gem was quite surprised when she found herself caught in a modern trap.

She yelped as tension snapped around her, a net of string clearly recently-fashioned hoisting her from the earth and leaving her dangling a solid four or five feet above ground.

“Hey!” she shouted, struggling instinctively. Oh this was silly! Now she was glad she was alone! Imagine! Her! An elf! Caught by a simple snare like this! Oh if anyone in her glade saw her like this she would never live it down!

But a modern trap meant a modern inhabitant. Gem’s blood chilled at the realization, and she then redoubled her efforts to get out. She didn’t know what kind of creature would have the mental acumen and dexterity to make a trap and was crazy enough to live here, but she! Didn’t! Want to know!

She yanked at the strings. It was well-crafted, likely spider silk, and Gem’s palms burned where she pulled and struggled. She kicked at it with her hooves, actually managing to snap a couple pieces here and there, but the net was intelligently made and did not unravel entirely at the loss of a few supports.

The bad angle wore at her stamina and the rising panic didn’t help at all. Especially since the plants, which had previously laid about so docile, even friendly, seemed like they were moving towards her now!

“Stay back!” she shouted at them, for all that she knew plants could neither hear nor “think” in the way that people thought. As she might have expected, the slow waves and wiggling of vines and roots went without dissuasion. She sank her teeth into the woven string, gnawing at it with her sharper canines, but the progress she made was frankly pitiful. It seemed she’d snapped all the weakest points, and all that remained was outside her ability to escape.

Finally, she wore herself out, and hung there, limply, trapped in the net as a fly in an actual web. It was hard to breathe as deeply as her body wanted, all folded in half like she was, one hoof and hock sticking out between the netting with one of the strings biting painfully into her skin, but she was too tired to try and wiggle it back in. She was mortified, too, red faced from exertion and embarrassment both. And one of her antlers was stuck and trying to move her head made the hornbed ache!

It was hard to tell how long she hung there. Not enough time for her to fully catch her breath, but enough that when she heard approaching footsteps, she instinctively turned to look. It pulled on her antler and she let out a small, high pitched noise, wriggling in her bindings once again.

“Oh!” came a woman’s voice, “Hyello!”

“Hi,” Gem said, half-breathless and irritable. “Let me down.”

“Well I almost wouldn’t need to!” The woman spoke with a strange accent, one Gem really hadn’t heard before, and she hung aggravatingly juuuuust in Gem’s peripherals. “You went and broke my trap! Not very polite of you.”

“What’s not polite is leaving me hanging here in a net!” Gem shouted, struggling again.

The woman laughed at her, the jerk, but thankfully gave a, “I know, I know, I’m just messin’ with you. Hold still, here, hup!”

Movement, the net swaying, and then there was the release of some mechanism and Gem and the woman both dropped to the ground, the one on the outside of the net landing nicely on her feet.

“Ow,” Gem deadpanned, far less amused with this situation than her captor/savior.

“You’re an interesting looking stranger. Are you from here?”

“I’m from across the river,” Gem said, accepting the help to sit up and detangle herself from the net. “I was just exploring. Are you from here?”

“No,” she said with a bright shrug. “I am living here now though, I suppose. I’m researching the area.”

Gem grunted and started trying to unhook the webbing from her antlers. As she did, she surveyed her new… whoever this was.

By all accounts, she looked like an ordinary human woman (and what indignity, an elf caught in a human trap!). Long, pale brown hair that hung halfway down her biceps. Thick, sturdy-made green overalls and a well made cotton shirt beneath. Big, sturdy stompin’ boots. Everything the woman wore (and netted, apparently) seemed to be fashioned for durability.

…Gem had been staring at her strong arms long enough she’d made out fine little hairs on her skin. Probably should look somewhere else.

“Thanks,” she said, less irritable now that she wasn’t strung from a tree, “for helping me down.”

“Awh, sorry for snatchin’ you up in the first place! I’m trying to catch one of the little scuttlers, the one I’ve been researching got out and it’s been awful trying to get it back again.”

“Scuttlers?”

“That’s what I’m calling them! Here, come inside, I’ll show you my research lab.”

Now, Gem was an adult woman. She was smart enough to know it wasn’t always wise to follow a stranger to a secondary location. Especially after that stranger had already caught her in one trap.

But this stranger had also let her out of the trap. And she was a pretty woman. Surely pretty women had no nefarious purposes. And besides, Gem, like, owed her or something. It’d be rude not to go.

“Sorry again about your trap,” she mentioned, glancing at the broken remains before following.

“No worries! It was getting old, anyway.”

“Mm. Hey, what’s your name? I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

“Oh yeah! I’m your friendly resident Pearlo! Call me Pearl,” she said cheerfully, whirling around to outstretch her hand.

Gem took it in hers, strong, callused human fingers clasping firmly around dainty elvish ones.

“Call me Gem,” she echoed.

“Hey, listen to that! Gem and Pearl, we get one more and we’ll have a whole jewelry box.”

Gem laughed, and noticed that Pearl had not released her hand in order to resume walking her inside. They were holding hands now. Pearl didn’t even seem to notice it, so it was probably natural and nothing important to her. It should’ve felt natural and unimportant to Gem, too, she’d held lots and lots of hands before and it had never meant anything particularly special.

But, well, you see, Gem was not immune to Pretty Lady.

She followed her into one of the ruined structures, which was not so ruined on the inside, and listened as Pearl discussed her research. The “scuttler” was some sort of guard dog for one of those ancient underground cities, barking whenever passerby tread too loudly and alerting the alarm system, and eventually a huge beast. Gem listened with one cheek propped up on her fist, watching Pearl walk about her laboratory with the occasional “mhm” or “oh really?” to keep her going.

It was when Pearl said a particularly silly joke with a toss of her hair and a cock of her hip that Gem realized, “Oh, you’re trying to impress me!”

Pearl shocked still, mouth hanging open and eyes blown wide, and Gem giggled to see her blush.

“No, no,” she rushed to follow up, “keep going.” She tilted her head so her bright curls spilled over her shoulder and smiled with a flutter of her eyelashes. “It was working.”

#hermitcraft season 9 #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #gempearl #hermitcraft #mcyt yuri week #mcytyuriweek #mcytyuriweek2023 #prompt: break #sometimes you break your future gf's trap with your hooves it be that way sometimes #my writing #haro writes

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generic-whumperz · 6 days

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The Aid: Chapter 8–Reflections

This chapter is dedicated to all my haunted bitches <3

(Happy 4-20!)

In an effort to cut down my novel-length CWs, I’m only listing chapter specific warnings from here on out, the full list of general content warnings for this series is on the Masterlist. Proceed with caution :)

CWs & TWs: Whumpee having his second revenge killing fantasy of the day, creepy/intimate whumper making pervy dick jokes and being a bully, Whumper getting dragged (deserved), partial nudity (non-sexual), briefest implication of past non-con (blink and you’ll miss it), bug and rodent mention, paranormal encounter, descriptions of a corpse-like creature (light gore and body horror), death mention (of previous Whumper)

Whumpee has some abilities, in this chapter you’ll see: THIS TEXT = EMPATHIC READING

Word count: 3,652

<-Previous | Masterlist | Next->

“Hold still, Mutt. I don’t wanna cut ya,” Wyatt warned, sounding more cautious than usual, as he made a clean scrape of the razor to The Aid’s tilted-up cheek.

‘Since when do you pass up the opportunity to make me bleed?’ The Aid thought. This was worse; this was so much fucking worse than his feared toenail-clipping or lotion-lathering scenario. He’d rather have his damn nails ripped out with pliers than be stuck sitting pretty and bare-chested as his Master glided a shaver over his face.

A disgusting noise ripped through the air only a few seconds later and immediately assaulted his ears. Something sounding like a choked growl emerged from the older man—was Wyatt having a seizure? A heart attack? Only in his wildest dreams did he think he’d get to witness the rat bastard drop dead at his feet. The Aid’s eyes widened in alarm and suppressed excitement as he willed himself with every ounce of self-control not to move a muscle.

Once his Master fell to the floor, he’d pounce. Wrap his good hand around his neck. Squeeze, squeeze so fucking hard until his fingers tore through skin. Stare the asshole straight in the eye until the last flicker of light sizzled out.

Wyatt turned to the sink, his face bright pink and nose scrunched, still making that god-awful noise that bounced off the bathroom walls.

The Aid waited at the edge of his seat—any marvelous second now.

The ruckus cut off when Wyatt leaned over the counter and hocked a large, murk-yellow loogie in the sink. He rinsed the razor still clenched in his fist under the running faucet and cleared the remaining phlegm from his throat with a few more nasty hacks before making another pass on The Aid’s stunned face.

‘…How disappointing.’ The Aid’s thought came delayed, his usual stream of internal monologue halted by his unfortunate misreading of the situation. Sure, he was annoyed by his Master’s comment, frustrated for losing himself in the second murder fantasy of the day, but he was even more peeved by the bastard’s gross abuse of his sink—his beautiful sink carved out of imported gold-veined Carrara marble.

He was only half a stroke of the razor in before Wyatt stormed into the bathroom—without warning or so much as a courtesy knock on the doorframe—and informed him he was taking too goddamn long and needed to wrap up the dog and pony show. Some words were exchanged, somehow leading to the brute snatching the razor from his hand and taking it upon himself to finish what The Aid started but was deemed incapable of finishing—because, as a 24-year-old man, he apparently couldn’t handle basic grooming.

“Ya were in that shower for an awfully long time,” Wyatt began, tossing The Aid a sly glance as if he knew a secret daren’t need repeating, but he would air out in the open anyway—classic Wyatt fuckery. “Bet ya enjoyed that alone time, huh? Must’ve gone to town on ya’self with uncloggin’ the pipes, eh?”

Wyatt rinsed the clump of white foam and whiskers off the razor as The Aid’s eyebrows pinched together and his mouth flattened into a thin frown, his stomach mercilessly twisting in on itself.

He didn’t even have a moment to respond, not like he wanted to, before Wyatt continued, “Ah, it’s all the meds, huh? Yeah, sometimes when I’m on antibiotics, I can’t rub one out right either. Or if I drink too much, but you know that.” The asshole had the ribald audacity to sprinkle some extra spice on the last words for added creepiness and then wink at him, much to his gut-churning dismay. Just throw it on the long, open tab of egregious offenses.

The Aid forced a painfully tight breath through his lungs and made a succession of slow blinks. Still wide-eyed and unsure how he ended up in this conversation he refused to partake.

Wyatt ogled The Aid up and down in a dramatic show of indifference. “What ya actin’ shy for, huh? We’re both guys—well, more or less,” he teased, dropping an octave to drive the message home that The Aid was just about as other as one could possibly get.

“But I suppose even the likes of you enjoy playing with ya’self. Got a dick, might as well use it, amirite?” Wyatt snickered, primarily to himself, as he made short strokes over The Aid’s chin.

Nope. That’s it. The Aid had enough—time to take the old dog out back.

“I was crying. A lot…Sir,” The Aid tersely responded, needing to end the topic above all else. Knowing the insight would likely invite ridicule, but preferring that over exchanging lewd locker room talk with his abuser.

Wyatt tsked, shaking his head. “Crying—yeah, that sounds more on brand for ya.” He almost sounded disappointed.

He paused a moment to rinse the razor before his lip curled as he scoffed out, “Big fucking crybaby. Ya’r eyes leak more than ya’r pecker.”

The Aid ignored the vulgar comment like he ignored much of everything else, letting it roll over him like cool water in a stream— besides, ‘You can’t make sense out of things where there isn’t any.’

Wyatt knuckled the underside of The Aid’s jaw to hold his face still as he started scrapping off his mustache in short glides. He sucked in his top lip in hopes of avoiding a nick, studying his Master’s face scrunch and furrow in concentration—the way Wyatt leaned in, the guiding, almost-tender support below his chin, the careful strokes of the razor against his skin, the delicate, purposeful closeness between them. It was familiar, almost felt okay, natural even.

He was the frog in a pot of boiling water, now simmering alive. He knew it and hated himself for it.

Wyatt continued working; the only sound heard for the next few minutes consisted of water spurting from the faucet and swirling down the drain with the occasional interrupting whooshes of the razor rinsed and taped against the lip of the sink to dispose of the billows of stubble-speckled foam.

He guided The Aid’s chin up so he faced the ceiling, making multi-directional glides on the underside of his jaw and neck. The Aid’s eyes slid to the side, fixed on the clearing in the middle of the mirror, the only section free of condensation from his long-overdue shower. His combed-through hair was still dripping wet, and his skin was still dewy from the lingering humidity.

A towel draped loosely around his waist, the only thing separating him and Wyatt. He tried not to think about how self-conscious he felt, how disgustingly intimate this invasion of privacy was. He tried to ignore Wyatt’s wondering gaze, working him over from head to toe. Rather, he placed his focus on observing the older man’s reflected movements work with an unfamiliar level of consideration for his welfare that he thought Wyatt was incapable of providing.

There—in the corner of his eye, he could’ve sworn he saw something dart out past the mirror's edge.

A bug? No, too big to be a bug. So, a rodent?

He knew damn well Wyatt wasn’t keeping up with the household chores during the past few months while he was out of commission, so varmints taking up residence was possible—likely even. His Master’s love affair with takeout was well-known and unmatched, and he seemed unfazed by being surrounded by rotting food and trash. He imagined just how filthy the living room, family room, front room, upstairs loft—and if he was fortunate, even the garage and pool house—must’ve gotten without his daily intervention. At that level, they’d probably need to call in an exterminator.

His eyes nervously flicked to the other side of him, where his large, porcelain soaker tub sat—nothing. If there were something, it would have been there plain as day.

He loosened a breath, trying to expel the wave of sweltering anxiety that flushed over him—

Mice. Rats. Cockroaches. Ants. Everywhere. An infestation of them.

Images of biting, creeping, diseased dregs of the animal kingdom invaded his mind. His skin ruddied from the prospect of waking up to a giant rat staring at him with those little creepy beady eyes he hated so much. A ripple of nerves detonated from the pit of his stomach, giving him the sensation like he ate fire for breakfast as shivers prickled under his skin. He unconsciously balled his left hand into a fist, his fingernails digging into his palm.

“What?” Wyatt spat, taking notice of the tension feather in his jaw.

“Eyes playing tricks on me, Sir. Happens sometimes without my glasses on,” The Aid explained, glancing at the counterspace where he left his glasses before getting in the shower.

“Jumpy little fucker,” Wyatt murmured, gliding the razor over his Adam’s apple.

There—again. In the misty reflection, The Aid thought he saw three spindly, mossy green fingers with long, blackened nails curling over the side of the tub.

Well, that sure as shit wasn’t a rat.

He blinked frantically in the mirror, paralyzed as every hair on his body bristled. Only one other thing besides the man in front of him elicited this level of primal terror. And it wasn’t rodents.

“Fuckin’ hell, Shortcake, what’s ya’r damage today? Did I deprive ya’r freak-of-nature brain of too much oxygen, and now ya’r short circuitin’ on me?” Wyatt grumbled, not concealing the twist of bitter amusement cutting through his scathing glare. He must’ve noticed the sprouting goosebumps.

“Sorry, Sir, I’m just…cold,” The Aid lied, allowing himself to tremble, hoping it would pass as shivering.

Wyatt’s eyes narrowed. “Cold? Ya don’t feel cold to me. Ya basically turned this place into a fuckin’ sauna. Best knock this funny shit off. And ya wonder why ya get the shit knocked outta ya, can’t ever act right. God damn idiot.”

CONTEMPT

Wyatt’s projected emotion shouted at him without even a tap of mind-prodding. The contempt he could deal with; he’d gotten used to it like some dimwitted friend he only tolerated in small doses when no one else was around to talk to. But he’d welcome contempt with open arms and freshly baked cookies if it meant evading the prowling malefic forces.

He kept quiet as his Master lined up his sideburns, eyes glued on watching him work in the mirror—he needed a degree of separation. The Aid couldn’t stand staring at the brute’s ugly mug head-on.

Wyatt’s eyes scared him the most, they always had, ever since the first day they met over six years ago at his Master’s 50th Birthday Bash Madame Eleanor threw for him.

His eyes were a chilling shade of icy blue, dead blue—the blue of frostbite and cracks in a frozen lake that would splinter, break beneath your feet and swallow you whole within seconds. His downturned, frosted eyes sunk deep and high under his protruding brow. He had that naturally off-putting I-rant-in-my-truck-and-post-hate-videos-online look, complete with a permanent scowl etched on his thin-lipped mouth with naturally arched, bushy eyebrows. He kept his ashy brown, silver-stripped hair short and combed to the side in an effort to hide his cow lick. A grown-out chevron mustache hid his top lip while he kept the rest of his face clean-shaven. But, despite his efforts, his broad chin and neck always displayed the dreaded permanent 4 o’clock shadow commonly plaguing many middle-aged men.

On the rare occasions when Wyatt smiled at him or during the more frequent scenarios when his Master flashed his teeth in a rabid bear sort of way, The Aid couldn’t help but notice the worsening entangled mess in Wyatt’s mouth. Wyatt’s big teeth, yellowed and crooked, peaked through irritated and swollen-looking gums. At this point, The Aid was more than sure Wyatt caught a preventable case of gingivitis. The culprits? A straight-up lack of routine teeth brushing commingling with a nasty nicotine addiction he couldn’t kick. The daily consumed carton of cigs and the cuds of chewing tobacco nestled in the pocket of his bottom lip did no favors as far as oral health was concerned.

As if a torn-up grill wasn’t bad enough, Wyatt’s age and substance abuse showed clearly on his face: frown lines, forehead lines, crow’s feet, blush-burned and puffy cheeks from constant flushing, and a hawkish but equally reddened nose. His skin looked weathered and dehydrated; living in a desert certainly didn’t help his case. The Aid thought his Master appeared as if he were in the trenches of fighting off a perpetual allergic reaction. If the older man took better care of himself and used a nightly retinol cream and sunblock in place of drowning his sorrows in IPA 12-packs, lines of coke, and slot machines, maybe he wouldn’t look so haggard.

The rest of Wyatt Sullivan only highlighted his villainous features. He was massive, pro-wrestler huge—broad-shouldered, burley, and too damn tall. The Aid thought of him as the Brawny paper towel guy’s evil older brother, but with a beer gut and a drug problem.

After intake, Handler Bryce categorized The Aid as “happy and temperate.” Later, he even went so far as to market his personality as “eager to please”—and that he was, despite how much he disliked the term. He performed all his domestic duties with a bright smile and a peppy “at once, Madame” or an “as you wish, Sir.” He kept a praiseworthy, straight-backed posture and spoke correctly in a measured, even tone—just like how he was taught. He was the whole Mystic Grand Servant package and then some. Yet, he’d instead focus on the half-man, half-Uruk-hai orc in front of him that broke down every carefully built pillar of poise and A1 caregiving and turned him from a regal investment to a cowering dog in a matter of months than acknowledge the phantom digits lurking in the reflection.

There.

Again.

In the tub.

A fuzzy mass of black and green moved.

‘No. No. No. Go away. Not here, not now. Not with him,’ The Aid pleaded, hoping this thing could somehow pick up his mental cry for a truce.

In the corner of his eye, he made out the blurred yet unmistakable shapes of skeletal, bony-knuckled fingers too long to be human drum on the tub’s edge slink down the side with each successive thrum in demand of his attention. Truce denied.

It could try all it wanted, but he utterly refused to give that thing even a quarter of a full-fledged glance. That’s how it got power—by him acknowledging it. It always started with something small—an audible finger tap, a ghostly whisper, glowing frost-colored eyes in the dark—to draw him in like a fish to a lure.

Oh, this thing wasn’t out to kill him—no, he didn’t think that was even possible. But it wanted something he considered worse: to feed on him. Slurp up the raw energy droning and pulsating inside him—the special spark that manifested as his abilities—like he was a fucking Baskin-Robbins cookies n’ cream milkshake until it got its fill. It’d only make its rounds again once he was restored to full power, and it craved another Aid-sized snack. By its too-frequent pitstops, he assumed that meant he was a tasty delicacy and one of its favorite hole-in-the-walls.

If it got its way, it would breathe him in, suck the life force out of him until his eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he lost consciousness. It would plunge him into a deep, restless sleep from which he woke with nothing short of a splitting migraine and depleted energy source lasting for days on end. It took him weeks, sometimes even months, to fully recover from a psychic attack.

With each menacing tap, his chest started to heave, each breath quicker than the last. His heart raced, the deep-rooted fear dissolving all gathered composure with each thud. If the oxy hadn’t kicked in already, he suspected he’d be zapped with the splintering pain of his cracked rib lancing into his side with each lungful.

‘Don’t look, don’t you fucking look!’ he internally screamed. ‘Why couldn’t this just be a fucking mouse?’

“No need to get all huffy, Runt, almost done,” Wyatt scorned through the tense silence. For one of the only times in his life, Wyatt’s voice brought him a strange comfort and grounded him.

‘Don’t give it attention, and it’ll go away.’ He took a deep, calming breath, thinking happy thoughts of green pastures and rainbows ending in beautiful waterfalls and—

His daydreaming was cut short by a slow, inhuman wheeze—Haaaaayyyyy

The spectral pitch of the other-worldly voice permeated every corner of his mind like a plume of dark smoke that he couldn’t shut out—it was just there, all around him, seeping into him—buzzing on his skin, ringing in his ears.

He panicked.

His steeled gaze melted faster than a cartoon character popsicle in summer. His eyes darted straight to the growing dark mass in the mirror.

His heart stopped, his breath stilled, and his body froze—petrified and goggle-eyed.

This living nightmare made those dreaded anthrophaghes look like child’s play.

A gangly arm hung over the front-facing side of the tub, exposing the thing’s equally revolting and terror-inducing body inch by inch. Its skin—painted a lifeless grey-green with blotches of gangrenous rot like a decaying corpse—was simultaneously loose and stretched too tight like half-melted, sloppily applied saran wrap pulled over a fake, anatomically incorrect skeleton with half-assed patchwork over the areas where it ripped.

At one end of its lanky arm, unfurled spider leg-like fingers with sharp, grime-crusted nails scrabbling the floor towards him. The other end led up to a too-bony shoulder, and then…he stared long and hard at the twisted, bloated face of Madame Eleanor.

His heart dropped into his stomach. His lungs refused to allow him a breath, filling him with stale air.

It couldn’t be her, not the real her. She was long dead. He knew that.

But he also knew he wasn’t the only one with a penchant for mind tricks. It must have tried to recreate Eleanor Sullivan’s likeness based on memories it poached from his mind during an encounter before—only his last memories of her were of her lying dead in an open casket.

Its face—no, Eleanor Sullivan’s poorly copied/pasted face was ghastly. Nearly unrecognizable.

In place of Madame Eleanor’s Botoxed face with bright, almond-shaped blue-green eyes, the reflection unveiled far-apart, lidless, ivory-colored eyes with no pupils locking onto him. Her button nose was gone, gnawed off, exposing the black gorge of its nasal cavity. Its mouth, a long, lip-less strip of decaying flesh, pulled out to its rawboned cheeks, revealing slivers of its pitch-black abyss-of-a-mouth. What sat on its head was nothing but a few clumps of long, feathery white strands of hair loosely tacked onto its molted skull—a far cry from his Madame’s signature dyed sandy-blonde locks. The gauzy wisps swished over its warped features as its head followed behind its arm’s descent onto the floor.

That thing began crawling out of the tub like it was Samara crawling out of a goddamn tube TV.

‘Oh hell no.’

He jerked back, face contorting with stone-cold horror, as a frightened shriek he couldn’t contain ripped free from his raw vocal cords.

“God damn it!” Wyatt bellowed, pulling away from The Aid’s face. He was too stunned to speak, too shaken up from the surge of adrenaline coursing through his body to notice the fresh slice on his chin.

“Did you see it?” He sputtered frantically, head whipping in the direction of the tub, blood streaking down his chin. “It—it—” he pointed at where the thing was supposed to be.

Nothing.

Wyatt all but shook his head, examining the empty tub. “Fuck, ya couldn’t just sit still? Now look at ya, bleedin’. Jesus Christ, ya’ve fucking lost it. Don’t tell me ya’r kook ass thought ya saw a ghost,” The man idly mocked, recalling the last time he noticed The Aid stare off into an empty corner with his eyes nearly popping out of his skull.

The Aid shook, his lip quivered as he tried to belt out, “No! Not a ghost, worse than a ghost. It—” he turned to Wyatt to see a half-fed up, half-scornful glare shooting back. He stopped, realizing just how nuts he looked and sounded. He sank into himself.

“I’m sorry, Sir. These meds…they make me feel weird,” he sighed, swapping his fervent panic with a practiced flavor of clear defeat he knew convincingly shadowed his face and wilted his voice. He did indeed feel like a kook, not because he doubted what he saw, but because he remembered just who he was talking to—King Deflection.

“Don’t think that’s gonna get ya outta taking them. Best learn how to deal 'cause ya still got a long way to go.” Wyatt grabbed the washcloth sitting on the sink, ran it under the water, and blotted the slice on The Aid’s chin.

“Hold that there,” the older man directed. The Aid obliged. Wyatt halted any further disparaging remarks and even refrained from shooting him the usual hate-crazed glower.

“Lucky it ain’t nothin’ but a little cut. I think that means we’re done here.” His Master nonchalantly wiped the last few strips of shaving cream off his face with the corners of the rag, then cleaned up the shaving supplies.

The Aid fell into a long silence. His fingers smoothed out the bunched-up ripples of terrycloth; his eyes anxiously darted back and forth between Wyatt and the tub. Tried as he might, he couldn’t calm the tornado still whirling in his gut or mollify his nerves, still heightened and simmering.

Gone. It was completely gone without a fucking trace.

<-Previous | Masterlist | Next->

Taglist: @sacredwrath @the-name-is-reaper @little-rat-dragon @pirefyrelight @whumpyourdamnpears @3-2-whump @potterhead5ever

If ya wanna be added or removed from the tag list, just let me know! Leave a comment or message me! :)

I know what you’re wondering—yes, The Aid is haunted by a sleep paralysis demon, The Night Hag! It’s a subtle element here, not a major plot point so if you don’t like paranormal shit, don’t worry it isn’t going to overtake the story (I just wanted to give it its own intro chapter).

Which goes without saying, chapter vibes:

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bomberqueen17 · 9 months

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instant pot rice pilaf sorta?

So this is one of my comfort-food recipes which I'm not sure I've related here before, but by request I'm writing it down properly with quantities and such.

This is, for me, an Instant Pot recipe, but you can adapt it for stovetop pretty easily. If you do it on the stovetop you can make it more risotto-like by stirring it a lot and such. Consult a decent risotto recipe and adapt.

You can use any kind of root vegetable, pretty much any kind of meat you like, and either white or brown rice for this. Use whatever stock you have. The leafy greens are optional.

Dice an onion. Melt fat (oil, butter, lard, bacon grease, like 2-3 Tbsp) in your Instant Pot on the "saute" setting (I do mine on Normal, but there's a lot of variation in individual pots how intense that is. You want it to lightly sizzle but not burn) and dump your onion in until it's as done as you like. (I want it to be clear, maybe just browning a little at the edges here and there, but you can go browner if you want.) 1a) IF YOU WANT TO USE MEAT you can do that. If I'm using lamb shanks, I will brown them first before adding the onion. If I'm using ground meat I will cook it after I've started softening the onion. You could throw in cooked leftover meat too, or if it's in your stock that's fine. Really this dish does fine without, but it's also a great way to stretch a small amount of meat to be a whole meal for several people. A lamb shank, a pork chop, a ham hock, some short ribs, a chicken leg-- some skimpy cut with a bone is ideal for this, but you can also use bulk sausage or ground meat or chicken breast or whatever you want, just adjust cooking times.

Dice carrots or beets while this is happening (or both). I'm a bit inspired by Central Asian plov, which is traditionally made with finely-julienned yellow carrots and like a whole lot of them, but I love beets in this. Set your diced root vegetables aside for right now. I'm going to say you want like, a cup or so of diced vegetable.

Put in your rice, stirring it around until it's all coated in the melted fat. I'm going to say to use 2c of rice. Let it cook for a couple of minutes.

Optional: throw in about 1/4 cup of white wine to kind of deglaze the pan, scrub up your rice in case it stuck at all (you need it not to stick or your pot will give a "burn" notice and not finish). Do this quickly, don't let it sit too long.

Throw in your root vegetables.

Add stock. I use Trash Stock, which I make in the pressure cooker out of all my leftover bones and vegetable scraps. You could use salted water, you could use canned broth, you could use whatever you like to cook rice in or whatever you make soup with. Follow the guidelines from your Instant Pot-- both white and brown rice are recommended as 1:1-- but I would be generous with the liquid, this always turns out a little dry for me because I think the root vegetables absorb water. I made this just now with 2c brown rice and a scant 3c stock and it was not watery at all. If you're using stock that is not adequately salted you'll want to throw some additional salt in. I also season with thyme, as that's the primary herb in plov, but you can really put in whatever herbs you like with whatever root vegetable you picked. I once made an incredibly intensely rosemaryed risotto that was actually pretty incredible. Use what you have.

Cook according to your Instant Pot's guidelines for the type of rice you're using, but on the longer side. I used brown rice, which IP said was "20-22 minutes" so I did it at 22 minutes on high pressure. White rice is only like, I forget, 3-5 minutes? Do it for the longer end, because you want those beets/carrots done through. (If you're using meat, then cook it however long the meat needs, if it's longer than what the rice needs. If I'm doing lamb shanks or something bone-in, then I use water instead of broth because the bones will make it be broth, I am more generous with the water, and I let it cook 25 minutes at least regardless of the rice. Shanks are fantastic because they're so tough otherwise, but have so much collagen they give a really velvety finish.)

When the pressure cook cycle is over, release pressure on the pot, and then dice up some leafy green-- spinach is great, mustard greens are great, I used some of the greens from my beets because I had them-- and I only used a scant cup, maybe even less, but if you have good spinach this is a great way to cram a ton of it into something-- and throw your leafy green in, stir it well, and then stick the lid back on. (if you've got shanks or some other bone-on meat, you'll need to take those out, pull all the meat off, throw it back in, discard your bones or better still put them in your freezer bag for later trash stock-- stir the meat back in along with your leafy greens, and put it on keep warm if it's had too long to cool off.)

Cut a few chunks of a lovely soft cheese, I recommend chevre. Once the leafy greens have wilted (really stirring them in should be plenty, or a minute or two with the lid on and the residual heat from the Pot), then dish your plov into bowls and top with crumbles of cheese. (For a more risotto-like variant, stir in a pat of butter at the end and top with Parmesan or similar. It's gonna depend on your flavor profile.)

sorry if this is real wordy, I really have tried to make it be Concrete Amounts but it's more a technique than a recipe, I always cook in story-frameworks like this because I just can't follow directions anymore, LOL.

#cooking #recipe post #comfort foods

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evildilf2 · 1 year

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Ohio culture tierlist

S tier: walleye drop

A tier: world record holding amusement parks, hocking hills, nine inch nails/DEVO place of origin, columbus zoo & aquarium, diverse delicious icecreams all over the state

B tier: buckeye candy, corn statues, rock n roll hall of fame, COSI, haunted prison they filmed Shawshank Redeption at, that one island with the golf carts people get drunk at, caves, yellow springs, HELL IS REAL sign

C tier: college football shit IDGAF, all of the real cornfields, that airplane museum in Dayton, #swingstate, mid suburban areas, the amish, the down in Ohio swag like Ohio song

D tier: the fact that central Ohio is the testing ground for so many fast food chains, oh yeah Morgan spurlock, Cincinnati, youngstown? That’s the one with the mafia right, lake eerie, gun girl

F tier: 21 pilots place of origin, harambes death place, was where the first avengers movie was filmed, Dave Chappelle’s place of residence

#all my little words

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alex51324 · 9 months

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Today I'm trying out a traditional Appalachian method of preserving string beans, called Leather Britches Beans! You string the beans onto a strong piece of thread, hang them up to dry, and...that's it:

In wintertime, you take them down, soak them in water, and cook with a ham hock or similar. My sources varied on whether it's best to hang them in sun or not-in-sun, so I did two short strings and hung them in different spots in the kitchen.

I don't know how well it'll actually work--I'm having visions of the beans just rotting up there--but I'm getting a lot of beans from the farmshare. Like, a lot. I already froze three quarts, and I have two more quarts (green and yellow) coming this Friday, so I figured I'd give this a whirl and see what happens!

Most of my ethnic foodways practices come from my Pennsylvania German heritage, but I'm Southern Appalachian on my mother's side, so it's neat to try something from that tradition.

#vegetables #farmshare #food preserving

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sir-frogsley · 2 months

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hey fellow strugglers, i wanted to share a low cost mexican bean recipe (frijoles charros) with you. it makes a lot and freezes really well. it's gotten me through some rough financial times and i hope it can do the same for others. it looks complicated but i promise it really isn't. to make it simpler, my coworkers have had success making these in a slow cooker and pressure cooker but i've never tried it myself and usually just do stovetop.

4 cups dry pinto beans

2 to 6 garlic cloves

1 yellow onion

1-4 whole jalapeños or serranos (for flavor; beans aren't meant to be spicy)

1 ham hock (or other ham bone)

sugar

salt & pepper

epazote (optional)

cilantro (optional)

1. rinse and sort beans

2. add beans to stock pot and cover with water. optional: soak overnight first (see note)

3. smash garlic cloves and very roughly chop the onion. keep peppers whole but cut a couple of slits along the sides. add these to pot with sugar and ham bone. you can add fresh tomato here too if you want. bring to a boil, then lower heat to medium low

4. simmer on medium low 2-3 hrs, covered but with lid vented. i usually watch tv or clean while it's cooking and stir every once in a while. add water when needed. add salt halfway through. be cautious with the salt because the beans can soak up a lot. you will salt to taste at the end.

5. check beans. they should be soft and silky, falling apart a little. the water should be stew like, not like refried beans, but thickened from the bean insides. personally i like to mash with a potato masher a couple of times to make the water more gravy-like.

6. remove ham bone and salt and pepper to taste.

8. add epazote for the last few minutes of cooking if using.

7. serve topped with cilantro. goes well with rice or some jiffy cornbread.

8. freeze extras up to a couple of months

note: i highly recommend soaking beans beforehand. this gets rid of some of the oligosaccharides that cause gas and bloating. bring beans to a boil, removd from heat, and then let soak overnight or throughout the day. drain and rinse again, then follow recipe from there.

note: adding epazote for the last few minutes of cooking also helps with gas. but it can taste licorice-y, so if you hate anise don't use it.

note: you can add diced fresh tomato with the other veggies if you want. it's popular to add goodies like fried crispy bacon, chicharrones, or chorizo at the end, too, including some of the cooked off fat. you could add more seasoning too, like cumin or ancho, but my family traditonally makes our beans simple and tomato-free

#food #recipes #signal boost #mutual aid #support

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hyenaswine · 1 year

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sorry for bad photos (i need to get a blacklight) but here is my little piece of the peaceful atom 💚 vintage 1930s anchor hocking uranium glass teacup & saucer with a cameo ballerina motif. not rare, cost me a whopping $15 but that's my dainty daughter & i love her.

she glows yellow under UV light because she contains 2% or less uranium dioxide. "An extensive study done by the Nuclear Regulatory Commission in 2001 found that the amount of radiation exposure caused by Vaseline glass to its owner is only 4 millirems per year, which is about 1% of the radiation that an average person is exposed to each year." [source] lots more good info on that page. she'll be used for display only, not for tea.

#uranium glass #vaseline glass

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seasonclans · 2 months

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Cinderstripe (she/they)

Herbalist of WinterClan

Transfem Lesbian

[ID: A grey cat with a lighter underbelly and paws as well as a darker strip from her nose to her tail, and distinctive "eyebrows" of the same colour. Her left eye is yellow and her right eye is blue. One of her legs is missing from just below the hock, and is supported by a stick tied to her leg by a grass braid. There are swirling shapes carved into the stick. End ID.]

I'm not cut out for warrior work. I barely made it through that fight alive, I was lucky to come out of it with just a broken leg.

Fireheart's best friend in the whole world! Cinderpaw has always been an active and adventurous cat. From the moment she opened her eyes, she left her parents and brother behind to explore the camp, causing an entire search as she played hide and seek. She's always been known for her speed and agility. She was destined to be a warrior.

But what if that's not what she wanted? Despite her active lifestyle, she never wanted to be in battle. Even when she was apprenticed to Lionheart, she never quite felt right as a warrior, but her mother encouraged her to be a great warrior alongside her brother. So, she continued to train alongside her fellow apprentices Sleetpaw, Snowpaw, and Longpaw, as well as make friends with Ravenpaw.

That's when she met Pumpkinfang, who spoke to her less like a mysterious speaker of prophecies like Spottedleaf, and more like a mother. As she learned about Pumpkinfang's work, she began to grow more and more curious... And she knew at last what she wanted to do.

#ari's seasons au #warrior cats rewrite #seasons au cats #cinderpelt #greystripe

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fluffykitty1999-blog · 2 years

Photo

10%OFF ENTIRE STORE! FREE SHIPPING! Green anchor Hocking golden anniversary 1 quart lemonade jug with lid https://etsy.me/34osY8c #anchor #hocking #lemon #lemons #lemonade #jug #green #yellow #summer https://www.instagram.com/p/CeH-JAnuDys/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#anchor #hocking #lemon #lemons #lemonade #jug #green #yellow #summer

0 notes

exhausted-archivist · 4 months

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Raw Ingredients

Updated: 2023/12

As of now, this list is updated with everything found in media released as of Oct 2023.

Like the original, this contains all raw ingredients; edible plants, fruits, legumes, mushrooms, nuts, spices, and vegetables. If known to a specific region it is marked next to the item in parentheses, if it is not, it is either unknown or universally consumed.

For Other Food Posts

Dishes, Sauces, and Sides

Drinks

Prepared Ingredients

Canonically Possible Foods and Drinks

Food and Drink Master Post

Disclaimer

Though real life plants may be listed here as edible, it is for fictional use only. This is not intended to be used as a reference nor guide for what plants are edible or safe to eat. Please do not use it as such.

Fruits, Mushrooms, Nuts, and Vegetables

Edible Plants

Bark

Fern Fiddlehead (Avvar)

Hops

Lichen (Dwarves)

Black Lichen - Toxic unless properly cooked.

Moss (Dwarves)

Nettle

Pungent Leaves - Unspecified leaves. (Avvar)

Rose (Orlais)

Rose Petals

Rosehips

Stripweed (Tevinter)

Sugar Cane (Orlais, Tevinter, Rivain)

Vine Leaves (Tevinter)

Watercress (Avvar)

Wildflowers

Borage

Chicory

Dandelion

Honeysuckle

Jasmine

Violet

Fruits and Nuts

Apple

Applewood Apples (Orlais)

Golden Apples (Orlais)

Green Apples

Le Pomme Vie et Morte - Apples that grow by the gallows in Val Royeaux. (Orlais)

Red Apples

Windfall Apples

Apricot

Banana

Par Vollen Banana

Rivain Banana

Berry

Blackberry (Ferelden)

Blueberry

Cranberry

Currant

Black Currant

Elderberry (Ferelden)

Raspberry

Strawberry (Ferelden)

Caper (Antiva)

Cherry

Black Cherry

Sour Cherry - unspecified variety(ies)

Sweet Cherry - unspecified variety(ies)

Cocoa/Chocolate (Donarks)

Coconut

Coffee (Antiva)

Date - A purple and red fruit with a pit, it has a sweetness and tangy taste. (Tevinter)

Fig (Tevinter)

Grape

Red Grape (Orlais)

Lemon

Lime

Mango

Nuts

Almond

Chestnut

Pine Nut

Olive

Antivan Olive

Orange (Antiva, Orlais, Tevinter)

Blood Orange (Nevarra)

Passion Fruit (Antiva)

Peach

Pear

Plum

Pomegranate (Tevinter)

Pomegranate Seeds

Grain

Barley

Fereldan Barley

Pot Barley

Oats

Rolled Oats

Rice (Antiva, Rivain)

Ryott (Ferelden)

Wheat

Durum Wheat (Rivain)

Whole Grains

Mushrooms

Deep Mushroom

Field Mushroom

Unspecified Fungus - Used to brew Dwarven ale.

Truffle

Unnamed Glowing Fungus

Wild Mushroom

Vegetables and Legumes

Beans

Bush Beans (Free Marches)

Green Beans (Orlais)

Pale Beans (Orlais)

White Beans (Orlais)

Beet

Cabbage

Carrot

Purple Carrot (Orlais)

White Carrot (Orlais)

Celery

Chickpea (Rivain)

Chive

Corn

Checkered Corn

Golden Corn (Orlais)

Yellow Corn

Cucumber

Eggplant (Antiva, Ferelden)

Fennel (Orlais)

Leek

Lentils

Lettuce

Mustard

Onion

Red Onion (Orlais)

Sweet Onion (Orlais)

White Onion

Pea

Peanut (Antiva, Seheron)

Pepper

Antivan Pepper

Green Pepper

Hot Pepper

Hot Red Pepper

Red Bell Pepper (Rivain)

Sweet Pepper (Orlais)

Potato

Radish

Daikon Radish (Ferelden)

Rhubarb (Ferelden)

Spinach

Squash

Marrow Squash

Pumpkin

String Squash

Tomato

Turnip - aka navet

Turnip Greens

Wild Greens

Yams (Ferelden)

Animal Products

Dairy

Cream

Heavy Cream

Milk

Cow Milk

Goat Milk

Halla Milk

Ram Milk

Soured Milk

Eggs

Caviar

Chicken Egg

Fish and Seafood

Carp

Cod

Crab

Cuttlefish

Eel

Krone

Lamprey

Mackerel

Mussel

Oyster

Prawn

River Herring

Shrimp

Sunfish

Trout

Whitebait

Insects

Cave Beetle (Dwarven)

Giant Spider (Dwarven)

Scorpion

Snail (Avvar)

Wood-burrowing beetle larvae (Dalish)

Meats

Beef

Ox-tongue

Veal

Boar

Bronto (Orzammar)

Cat - mentioned to be eaten in Orlesian alienages by those most desperate (City Elves of Orlais)

Dog - mentioned to be eaten in Orlesian alienages by those most desperate (City Elves of Orlais)

Druffalo

Giant (Tevinter)

Goat

Gurn

Halla

Hare

Hart

Horse

Liver - General name given, animal isn’t specified.

Nug

Pork

Pig’s Feet

Pork Hocks

Pork Saddle

Rabbit

Ram

Rat - mentioned to be eaten in alienages by those most desperate (City Elves of Anderfels, Ferelden)

Sheep

Lamb

Mutton

Venison

Wandering Hills (Anderfels)

Poultry and Reptiles

Bunting

Chicken

Poussin (Chasind)

Deepstalker (Dwarven)

Dove

Dracolisk (Tevinter)

Dragon (Nevarra, Orlais)

Duck

Gurgut (Avvar)

Lurker (Avvar)

Partridge

Pheasant

Phoenix

Pigeon

Quail

Quillback

Swan

Turkey

Varghest

Wyvern (Avvar and Orlais)

Misc.

Dragon Blood (Nevarra)

Druffalo Dung

Honey

Honeycomb

Miscellaneous Ingredients

Baking Ingredients

Ash

Elfroot Ash

Hardwood Ash (Dalish)

Baking Powder

Yeast Cake

Salts

Fine-ground Salt

Rock Salt

Sea Salt

Others

Brine

Clay (Avvar)

Pine Pitch (Alamarri)

Herbs and Spices

Herbs

Basil - Mentioned to be grown in Serault, Orlais.

Dried Basil

Bay Leaf

Catsbane

Elfroot

Elfroot Leaves

Royal Elfroot

Lavender (Orlais)

Mint

Anderfels’s Mint

Foxmint

Peppermint

Oregano

Dried Oregano

Parsley

Prophet’s Laurel

Rosemary

Spindleweed

Verdant Spindleweed

Thyme

Spices

Allspice

Anise

Antivan Cord-seed

Cardamom

Cinnamon (Rivain, Seheron)

Clove

Cumin

Cumin Seed

Deep Mushroom Powder (Orlais and Orzammar)

Dill

Dill Seeds

Eastern Spice - Unnamed

Fennel

Fennel Seeds

Garlic

Ginger

Dried Ginger

Hot Pepper Powder

Hot Red Pepper, Crushed

Juniper

Licorice

Mace

Mustard

Mustard Powder

Mustard Seeds

Nutmeg (Seheron)

Grated Nutmeg

Ground Nutmeg

Pepper

Black Pepper

Peppercorn

Black Peppercorn

Poppyseed

Saffron

Spice Ball - A variety of mixed spices wrapped in a cheesecloth

Star Anise

Vanilla (Rivain)

Sources:

(If you want to find the direct links or page numbers, check out the Wiki's Food and Ingredients page.)

Primary Sources:

Dragon Age: Origins (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: Awakening Dragon Age 2 (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: The Last Court Dragon Age: Inquisition (DLCs + Multiplayer)

Books:

Dragon Age Tabletop RPG Core Rulebook Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Blood in Ferelden Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Game Master’s Kit: Buried Past World of Thedas Vol. 1 World of Thedas Vol. 2 Dragon Age Official Cookbook: Tastes of Thedas Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne Dragon Age: The Calling Dragon Age: The Masked Empire Dragon Age: Last Flight Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights

Short Stories:

Short Story: Paper and Steel Short Story: Paying the Ferryman

Comics:

Silent Grove Mage Killer Knight Errant Deception

DAO

Codex Entry: Feast Day Fish

Codex Entry: History of Soldier’s Peak: Chapter 3

Codex Entry: In Praise of the Humble Nug

Codex Entry:A Tattered Shopping List

Item: Abyssal Peach

Item: Brandy

Item: Carnal, 8:69 Blessed

Item: Mosswine

Item: Rare Antivan Brandy (Gift)

Item: Sugar Cake

Item: Sun Blonde Vint-1

Item: West Hill Brandy

DAII

Item: Dragon’s Blood

DAI

Codex Entry: On Avvar Cuisine

Codex Entry: Bottles of Thedas

Codex Entry: The City of Starkhaven

Codex Entry: La Pomme Vie et More

Codex Entry: Mad Emperor Reville

Codex Entry: Plant vs. Corpses

Codex Entry: Ram

Codex Entry: A Scholar’s Journal

Codex Entry: Spindleweed

Codex Entry: Surviving the Western Approach

Codex Entry: Waterlogged Diary

Item: Wedge of Destiny

Note: Betta’s Travel Journal

Note: The Gilded Horn’s Drink List

Note: Knight-Captain’s Orders

Note: A Note from the Skyhold Kitchen

Note: The Rusted Horn’s Menu

Note: Scribbled Note

Wartable Mission: Inspire

Wartable Mission: Plant Crystal in Venatori Headquarters

Last Court Cards

Atop the Tower of Lights

The Elegant Abbess

Flames of Freedom

The Glassblowers’ Anger

Go Hunting

Good Neighbor

The Next Course

The Purveyors of Tea

Thieves!

An Unofficial Meeting

The Wyvern is Cornered

Wanna support this blog? You can check out my ko-fi.

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old-archivist · 2 years

Photo

Foods of Thedas: Raw Ingredients

These are all the canonically mentioned raw ingredients. By that I mean Ingredients that don't require processing like caramel, dried or salted meats, or jam. But the ingredients that go into making such things. As with the previous posts, I didn’t include any of the potential items that could be used, just to prevent confusion should you go looking for the source of any of the items on this list.

For Additional Food Posts

Dishes, Sauces, and Sides

Drinks

Prepared Ingredients

Cannonically Possible Foods and Drinks

Master Post

Fruits, Mushrooms, Nuts, and Vegetables

Edible Plants

Fern Fiddlehead

Lichen

Moss

Pungent Leaves - Unspecified leaves used in Avvar cooking of baked fish.

Rose

Rose Petals

Rosehips

Stripweed

Sugar Cane (Tevinter, Rivain)

Wildflowers

Borage

Chicory

Dandelion

Honeysuckle

Violet

Fruits and Nuts

Apple

Applewood Apples (Orlais)

Golden Apples (Orlais)

Green Apples

Le Pomme Vie et Morte - Apples that grow by the gallows in Val Royeaux.

Red Apples

Windfall Apples

Apricot

Banana

Par Vollen Banana

Rivain Banana

Berry

Blueberry

Cranberry

Elderberry

Raspberry

Strawberry

Caper (Antiva)

Cherry

Cocoa/Chocolate (Donarks)

Coconut

Coffee (Antiva)

Currant

Black Currant

Date - A purple and red fruit with a pit, it has a sweetness and tangy taste. (Tevinter)

Fig

Grape

Lemon

Lime

Nuts

Almond

Chestnut

Pine Nut

Olive

Antivan Olive

Orange (Orlais, Antiva)

Passion Fruit

Peach

Pear

Plum

Pomegranate

Pomegranate Seeds

Grain

Barley

Pot Barley

Oats

Rolled Oats

Rice

Ryott

Ryott Flour

Wheat

Wheat Flour

Whole Grains

Whole Grain Flour

Mushrooms

Deep Mushroom

Field Mushroom

Unspecified Fungus - Used to brew Dwarven ale.

Truffle

Unnamed Glowing Fungus

Wild Mushroom

Vegetables

Beans

Bush Beans

Green Beans

Pale Beans

White Beans

Cabbage

Carrot

Purple Carrot

White Carrot

Celery

Chive

Corn

Checkered Corn

Golden Corn

Yellow Corn

Cucumber

Eggplant

Fennel

Lettuce

Mustard

Onion

Red Onion

Sweet Onion

White Onion

Pea

Pepper

Antivan Pepper

Green Pepper

Hot Pepper

Hot Red Pepper

Red Bell Pepper

Sweet Pepper

Potato

Radish

Spinach

Squash

Marrow Squash

Pumpkin

String Squash

Tomato

Turnip - aka navet

Turnip Greens

Wild Greens

Animal Products

Dairy

Butter

Cow Butter

Goat Butter

Halla Butter

Herbed Butter

Nug Butter

Cheese

Ativan Smoked Cheese

Blue-veined Cheese (Orlesian)

Brie Cheese

Brined Goat Cheese

“Dalish” Cheese - An ill described item as it is unclear if it is actually cheese. One thing is for sure it isn’t Dalish.

Feisty Cheese

Goat Cheese

Halla Cheese

Pecorino Romano (Antivan)

Ram Cheese

Cream

Spiced Cream

Thickened Cream

Whipped Cream

Milk

Cow Milk

Goat Milk

Halla Milk

Ram Milk

Soured Milk

Eggs

Caviar

Chicken Egg

Egg Whites

Egg Yolk

Fish

Carp

Cod

Eel

Krone

Lamprey

Mackerel

Mussel

Oyster

River Herring

Sunfish

Trout

Whitebait

Insects

Cave Beetle (Dwarven)

Giant Spider (Dwarven)

Scorpion

Snail (Avvar)

Wood-burrowing beetle larvae (Dalish)

Meats

Beef

Ox-tongue

Rump Roast - A cut of meat from the hindquarters

Veal

Boar

Bronto

Cat

Deepstalker (Dwarven)

Dog

Dragon

Druffalo

Goat

Gurgut

Gurn

Halla

Hare

Hart

Horse

Liver - General name given, animal isn’t specified.

Lurker (Avvar)

Nug

Phoenix

Pork

Pig's Feet

Pork Hocks

Pork Saddle

Quillback

Rabbit

Ram

Rat

Sheep

Lamb

Mutton

Varghest

Venison

Wandering Hills (Anderfels)

Wyvern

Poultry

Bunting

Chicken

Dove

Duck

Partridge

Pheasant

Pigeon

Quail

Swan

Turkey

Misc.

Dragon Blood (Nevarran)

Druffalo Dung

Honey

Honeycomb

Miscellaneous Ingredients

Baking Ingredients

Ash

Elfroot Ash

Hardwood Ash (Dalish)

Baking Powder

Yeast Cake

Salts

Fine-ground Salt

Rock Salt

Salt

Sea Salt

Others

Brine

Clay (Avvar)

Pine Pitch (Alamarri)

Herbs and Spices

Herbs

Basil

Dried Basil

Bay Leaf

Catsbane

Elfroot

Elfroot Leaves

Royal Elfroot

Lavender (Orlesian)

Mint

Anderfels’s Mint

Foxmint

Peppermint

Oregano

Dried Oregano

Parsley

Prophet's Laurel

Rosemary

Spindleweed

Verdant Spindleweed

Thyme

Spices

Allspice

Anise

Antivan Cord-seed

Cardamom

Cinnamon (Seheron)

Clove

Cumin

Cumin Seed

Deep Mushroom Powder (Orlesian and Dwarven)

Dill

Dill Seeds

Dragon Blood Powder (Nevarran)

Eastern Spice - Unnamed

Fennel Seeds

Garlic

Ginger

Dried Ginger

Hot Pepper Powder

Hot Red Pepper, Crushed

Juniper

Licorice

Mace

Mustard

Mustard Powder

Mustard Seeds

Nutmeg (Seheron)

Grated Nutmeg

Pepper

Black Pepper

Peppercorn

Black Peppercorn

Poppyseed

Saffron

Spice Ball - A variety of mixed spices wrapped in a cheesecloth

Star Anise

Vanilla (Rivain)

Sources: ( If you want to find direct links or page numbers check out the wiki’s Food and Ingredients page.) Dragon Age: Origins (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: Awakening Dragon Age 2 (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: The Last Court Dragon Age: Inquisition (Base, DLCs + Multiplayer) Dragon Age Tabletop RPG Core Rulebook Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Blood in Ferelden Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Game Master's Kit: Buried Past

World of Thedas Vol. 1 World of Thedas Vol. 2 Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne Dragon Age: The Calling Dragon Age: The Masked Empire Dragon Age: Last Flight Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights Short Story: Paper and Steel Short Story: Paying the Ferryman

DAO Codex Entry: Feast Day Fish Codex Entry: History of Soldier’s Peak: Chapter 3 Codex Entry: In Praise of the Humble Nug

Codex Entry: A Tattered Shopping List

Item: Abyssal Peach Item: Brandy Item: Carnal, 8:69 Blessed Item: Mosswine Item: Rare Antivan Brandy (Gift) Item: Sugar Cake Item: Sun Blonde Vint-1 Item: Wedge of Destiny Item: West Hill Brandy

DAII Item: Dragon’s Blood

DAI Codex Entry: On Avvar Cuisine Codex Entry: Bottles of Thedas Codex Entry: The City of Starkhaven Codex Entry: La Pomme Vie et More Codex Entry: Mad Emperor Reville Codex Entry: Plant vs. Corpses Codex Entry: Ram Codex Entry: A Scholar's Journal Codex Entry: Spindleweed Codex Entry: Surviving the Western Approach Codex Entry: Waterlogged Diary Note: Betta's Travel Journal Note: The Gilded Horn's Drink List Note: Knight-Captain's Orders Note: A Note from the Skyhold Kitchen Note: The Rusted Horn's Menu Note: Scribbled Note Wartable Mission: Inspire Wartable Mission: Plant Crystal in Venatori Headquarters

Last Court Cards Atop the Tower of Lights The Elegant Abbess Flames of Freedom The Glassblowers' Anger Go Hunting Good Neighbor The Next Course The Purveyors of Tea Thieves! An Unofficial Meeting The Wyvern is Cornered

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