#LISTEN I JUST NEED TO VISIT MY BLORBOS AND I HAVE NO WAY TO DO SO

[kazoosandfannypacks]

me, in the middle of reading one book, knowing i have a sizeable tbr stack on my desk, fourteen fics marked for later, a manga I haven't touched on my nightstand, and full intentions to buy another new book this week: i should reread the shuttle.

[alpaca-clouds]

Okay, let me explain!

Okay, you know what? Given that at least one person (hey there, @vengencefilledwriter) say after my shitpost yesterday, that they wanted to read about this... let me talk about how I very randomly started shipping Astarion with Themberchaud.

Because, yes. It is a crack ship in many ways. However, I will maintain that it actually totally makes sense.

And yes, Themberchaud is the chubby dragon from Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves. I kinda talked about him a bit before (but tumblr search cannot be assed to show that to me), so...

See, me shipping the two arose from Wishing Well, the Astarion-centric longfic I am writing right now (which is also the sequel to Voice of the Voiceless). The story takes place about a year after the end of BG3 and centers around Astarion and Tav finally visiting the other vampire spawn, who in this have simply settled the Grymforge, after it was abandoned by the duergar.

Given the story takes place completely in the Underdark and features a conflict centered around the duergar, I thought it would be a fun little thing to have Themberchaud show up at some point as a cameo.

Yeah, I thought wrongly.

Because then I started the research on Themberchaud, and oh boy, let me tell you guys, this dragon is actually such a poor little blorbo who in truth just needs a big ol' hug!

Yes, yes, I see you there, muttering: "But red dragons are chaotic evil." To which I just say: "Sssssssh! Listen!"

Themberchaud...

Okay, even if you play DnD there is a very high chance that you never really encountered Themberchaud, because he is kinda locked into one place: Gracklstugh. The duergar city in the north of the underdark. And while the movie kinda plays his fatness as cute and funny, actually it is in his case super tragic!

See, Themberchaud is a slave. Because the duergar's masterful weapons can only be created in dragonfire, which is why for so many hundreds of years they have held themselves a dragon slave. The current one is Themberchaud.

Of course, given that dragons by nature have a rather big ego, they know well enough to not let him know that he is a slave. He has all the servants he wants, gets gold for his hoards and unlucky adventurers to feast on, and all they ask of him in return is that he keeps their forges running.

Well, and just to make extra sure that he plays along, they use some of the psychic powers they have gotten from their millennium of illithid enslavement to keep him content.

The fact that he got fed so much without having to hunt for it, is what made him so fat. And in fact that came as a bonus for the duergar, because the fact is, that Themberchaud has become so fat that he could no longer leave his hoard and hence very unabel to flee or fight back.

But dragons get stronger as they age and as such it becomes harder and harder to keep him controlled. Which is why he was supposed to suffer the same fate as all the other dragon slaves before: Get killed.

Something went wrong however. We just do not know what. Only that for some reason by the time the movie takes place, Themberchaud has somehow managed to escape Gracklstugh. But something is very clearly wrong with him. Because for one, he does not seem to have any capacity for reason in the movie - and also... his dragonfire somehow does not work. And remember: The duergar kept him for his fire.

Now, maybe his mind got just melted away by the psychic magic. Who knows. But yeah, that is the backstory there.

Okay, did I successfully get you invested in the story of the poor dragon? Yeah?

Hopefully. Let me just talk about why I ended up shipping him with the sad vamprie boy. Which kinda brings me back to why Themberchaud did not just remain a cameo in Wishing Well. Because I was planning the story and hence researching, I realized something: Astarion and Themberchaud are weirdly similar.

They both were slaves for around two hundred years and barely know anything but slavery.

Their respective masters used mindcontrol of them, which would logically lead to them both having trouble to even know who they are. Were they begin and the mind control end.

Both of them were abused by their masters through food. While Astarion was starved, Themberchaud was overfed. But both is still abuse through food!

Their enslavement ended through some circumstance (which for Themberchaud is still unknown) the plan of their respective masters to kill them failed.

Throughout their enslavement they were kept from the sun. (Note: While it is not explicitly said for Themberchaud that he wants to escape the underdark to see the sun, there is some implication for that.)

Like, those are actually fairly strong parallels. Something that undoubtedly was not intended by anyone, because I kinda doubt anyone at Larian even had Themberchaud in mind, when they were creating Astarion.

Never the less: Those are parallels.

And those parallels made me decide against the Themberchaud cameo......... in so far that instead of being a cameo, he literally becomes the sixth ranger in Wishing Well. Because he and Astarion pretty much talk to each other for like 1 hour and instantly are like: *scream* "BESTIES!!!" With Astarion afterwards being very unwilling to abandon the big dragon once more.

I will spare you the shenanigans that happen afterwards, but let me just put it like this: When they get granted a wish, Themberchaud gets turned into the more handy form of a dragonborn, which allows him to travel to the surface world. Because, you know, see the sun for himself.

Yes, yes, I hear you once again: "But that is just what happens in your fic!" Which, yes, sure. You are right. But you know what?

I still totally think that the two of them would totally at least platonically hit it off if they were ever going to meet. Because they just are so darn similar in their dramatic backstories as runaway slaves whose masters were trying to kill them.

Like, just look at all the bonding potential there!

What I love about it too, is that it has Astarion in the role of a caretaker for someone. Like, people (well, mostly Tav) took care of him, when he needed it and now he is capable to support someone else who has lived through similar shit.

You understand me? ALL THE HURT/COMFORT POTENTIAL!!! JUST LOOK AT ALL THE POTENTIAL?

And yes, in case you are wondering: No, Astarion does not break it off with my Tav in that stuff. Because polyshipping is a thing xD And that polycule is already just a bit bigger.

And, just... Look people. I JUST WANT MY BLORBOS TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER, ALRIGHT?! *feral*

[runscold-runsdeep]

Just A Check-up

Hema (OC)

Warnings/disclaimers: EKGs, OC and an unnamed character, implied anxiety and stress, chest pains and palpitations

Word count: 600+

Hema finds himself getting anxious about chest pains and a rapid, pounding heart, so he decides to get it checked out. He's okay, don't worry.

//Author's note

Just something I wanted to write down about my blorbo. My silly guy. I need to start making more content for him, since he's the perfect candidate for these kinds of writings

🫀⸸⛧⸸🫀

Hema shuddered, the cold air of the infirmary chilling his bare torso as he laid back on a rather stiff stretcher, shifting a bit to get comfortable on it after having his heart listened to by the sister of sin who worked the nurse duties in the infirmary. A familiar face in an all too familiar place.

He was far more than just familiar with the Ministry's infirmary, his given vessel being weak upon his summoning resulting in the plague ghoul making frequent, almost daily, visits for tests and diagnosis for whatever disease or abnormality decided to show itself that day. This test was no different.

He twitched slightly, the sticky gel for electrodes against his skin chilling him further. "Ain't there no way you could warm these up before stickin' 'em on me?" Hema complained with his noticeable Southern drawl.

"Are you going to whine the whole time, or do you want to find out why you're experiencing these chest pains and palpitations?" The sister of sin raised her brow at the ghoul, glaring playfully at him while feigning annoyance.

"Well, I just figured that since I'm a regular visitor I should have some kinda special treatment here." He folded his arms behind his head, which earned him a couple of light jabs to the ribs, making the ghoul jolt and swiftly clamp his elbows to his sides.

"And with how frequent you visit, I'm surprised you haven't learned to keep your arms down at your sides for these types of tests." She scolded.

"Right, right. Sorry." Hema chuckled bashfully.

The nun began gathering the electrodes, which were tangled like webs, sorting them out and placing them where they should go on Hema's body. Soon, the machine did its magic, showing all the peaks and valleys of the demon's heartbeat and printing it all out. They seemed normal. A steady rhythm with no skips or stumbles. There was one issue, however. It was just a little fast for a ghoul of his size. The nun hummed thoughtfully at the paper.

"What? What's it showin'?" Hema leaned up a bit to face her.

She said nothing, setting the paper aside to remove the electrodes from Hema's body, the ghoul wincing whenever the gel tugged at his body hair. "Am I okay?"

"Well," the dark nun began, "It appears normal for the most part, but it's not your usual rhythm." She explained, "Your heart sounded perfectly clear when I listened to it, which leads me to believe there's really nothing wrong with your heart at all. Have you had any caffeine?"

"No, ma'am. It makes me too jittery." He replied truthfully.

"Have you been nervous about anything or stressed out?"

Hema thought hard, his brows furrowing as he looked to the side. "I dunno what I would be stressed about. I mean, this tour is over now, so I shouldn't be stressin' out or nervous 'bought anything."

"Stressors tend to linger, even if you don't think it's there." She turned to a desk, writing something down on a sticky note and handing it to him. "Give this to Papa so he'll know to leave you be for a while. Rest up, drink some chamomile or lavender, chill out for a bit."

Hema glanced over the note before looking to the sister of sin, nodding at her and giving her a soft smile, "Appreciate it." He stood up from the stretcher, stretching, "Hopefully I won't need to bother you again today."

"Hey, you're not a bother." She patted his arm, "I'm here to help you when you need it."

Hema smiled a little wider, "Thanks."

After sending the note off to Papa Emeritus, he did as instructed. He decided to make himself a calming tea and curl up in his den, watching TV and sipping the warm drink. He already felt a little better.

[blorbologist]

aaaaaaaand vex, 14? to finish off the blorbo thoughts

14. Detect Thoughts

"For the duration, you can read the thoughts of certain creatures. When you cast the spell and as your action on each turn until the spell ends, you can focus your mind on any one creature that you can see within 30 feet of you. If the creature you choose has an Intelligence of 3 or lower or doesn't speak any language, the creature is unaffected.

You initially learn the surface thoughts of the creature - what is most on its mind in that moment. As an action, you can either shift your attention to another creature's thoughts or attempt to probe deeper into the same creature's mind. If you probe deeper, the target must make a Wisdom saving throw. If it fails, you gain insight into its reasoning (if any), its emotional state, and something that looms large in its mind (such as something it worries over, loves, or hates). If it succeeds, the spell ends. Either way, the target knows that you are probing into its mind, and unless you shift your attention to another creature's thoughts, the creature can use its action on its turn to make an Intelligence check contested by your Intelligence check if it succeeds, the spell ends."

[No one asked for Ruidusborn!Percy but I am telling you: you want Ruidusborn!Percy.]

Catha squints, white and sightless, high in the sky. Sightless, he knows, because he can feel Ruidus behind the clouds. Closer, still, in the pulse deep in his belly.

It feels, as always, like judgment.

“You don’t trust me,” says Percival plainly. Picks up on the unsettled echo only because his walls are so shaky as-is, between these walls. 

He endeavors to focus on his own mind before continuing: “I know. In fact, I agree. I shouldn’t be trusted.”

“The fact you know is half the problem,” Vax snaps. “What the fuck was that, back there? Burning out his tongue? The fucking crest? You didn’t need to torture the bastard, Freddy.”

Percy tips his head. “Torture is detrimental to extracting information in most contexts,” he agrees. “But it makes my skillset a little… easier.”

It felt a lot like prying apart his gun for repairs - a little leverage, a little twist here, to unveil the inner workings beneath his critical eye. Too much and the pain overwhelms conscious thought. He had to use a light touch. Learned, too well, what a light touch felt like. 

(The worst part was how cold her mind had been, when he had no choice but to listen and listen and hear every other thought - his siblings’, his brothers’, his sister’s - go out, listen to the diagrams and debate on efficiency and see himself through her eyes as meat.)

There’s a temptation, as he faces Vax’s furious stare, to drop the pretense and listen. To know, truly, what they think of him. He was considered cursed, unlucky, moonspawn before. What is he, now, vomiting smoke and red lightning from his cruel hands? Worse than the unlucky birthday that made him what he is.

“Enough,” Vex says. “We don’t have time for this right now.” Her gaze flicks his way. “Percy - are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he replies.

It isn’t just the moon that judges him - Vax’ildan, Vox Machina do, too.

--

The lesser vampire is dead. His goons are dead. Percival tastes ozone and smoke and the combination is disgusting and digs into the crevices between his teeth - he can’t spit it out. 

He knows this manor. A few times he and his siblings visited family friends, here. Percival was usually permitted to excuse himself upstairs. Ostensibly to read. He did read - but he could feel the relief radiating off everyone when he left the room.

He’s gotten better, at keeping thoughts out of his head. First it was politeness, propriety - then something like a lifeline, that he was still himself, alone in his own head, a person, if unwhole. 

(So why did he hear someone else, then?)

Such decency is a luxury Vox Machina cannot afford, here, in a Whitestone actively hunting for their heads.

So Percival feels Vex’ahlia storm up the steps after him. She does not bother to go quietly, to try and sneak up on him, so he supposes she must know this. 

Vex is… an enigma. One he would rather not solve, ever, because he doubts she wants to be known. The discrepancy between how she presents herself and how she thinks, how she feels, is so jagged he fears it will bleed into his own head sometimes. 

For how ordered and careful she is in the day to day, how she measures out coin like a miser, she’s… messy. A tangle - bramble thicket throughout the seasons, the best he can describe. Impossible to follow, with leaves, blooms and berries in turn. And always bearing claws. 

He’s thankful for that - it keeps him from stumbling into them - into her - when his focus wanes. 

She’s sharp here, too, an arrow whizzing right up the stairs. Percy hastens to steel himself, blot out her thoughts - so focused on this goal, he’s completely caught off guard when she wheels him back into the wall. The wallpaper has been neglected - it creases against his back, beneath his hands. 

The last scrap he catches, before he tunes her out, is ‘Is he alright?’

“I’m fine,” he says, without meaning, and regrets it so painfully when her eyes widen. “I’m - I’m sorry.”

“Look me in the eye, Percy,” Vex’ahlia snaps, and he obeys. It’s easier, when he has a target. Shooting is almost soothing for him, even if lately it feels as though his lightning is more effective. Here he zeroes in on the bullseye of her pupil, darting back and forth as she judges him. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. 

Vex blinks, and he is robbed for only a moment. “Do you trust us?”

Percy sputters. Made difficult by her forearm on his throat and - oh. He swallows, mind hot static. “Of course -”

“I trust you,” she says, more quietly, more pressure than words. “Please, Percy. Honest - are you alright?”

“You shouldn’t,” he replies. “Trust me, that is. We have been over this.”

Vex’s jaw works. 

Here is a secret, among the many Percival keeps close to his chest: he has never been good at reading people. 

Would you, if you could slip into the minds of others? If you could find the truth of their words behind their marks, even when you did not want it? How often the mouth has disagreed with the mind - Percy has learned not to trust the theater that plays out on the face. Had tried to find the skill, again, as he finally found control of his abilities, but - well. 

Without the contact of his curious mind, he has no idea what Vex is thinking, what she is feeling. He strives to keep it that way.

“I do.” Vex sighs, and Percy can’t tell if she regrets this or confesses it to him, quietly, so her brother will not here. “Actually - why not take a look, darling?”

He balks. “I - what?”

She has both arms braced against him, and strains on her tiptoes - otherwise, he knows, she would tap her temple with a finger. “Yep. You don’t believe me - so. Read my mind, Percy.”

“Are you sure,” he strains to say, “that’s alltogether safe?” 

He’s not stupid, nor blind - he knows he has been a rolling thunderstorm, dark clouds billowing off him, ribbed with red lightning. Can feel it, still, under his gloves - sparks jumping from skin to leather to skin and curling around the cuticles of his fingers.

“No,” she admits with a huff. “But I am worried, Percy. We all are - and if you can’t trust us to have your back, can’t feel safe enough to be honest…” Vex trails off, biting her lip, and he can’t help but follow the movement. She catches his eyes as they return to hers, and he thinks there might be something a bit smug. “I trust you. And I’d like to make that clear, before we face more of your demons.”

“Your brother does not trust me.”

“And I’m Vex, not Vax,” she snips back. Smiles. “Besides - I have nothing to hide, darling.”

Percy can’t read people - hasn’t needed to - but he knows a blatant lie when he sees one. 

[Send me a spell and I'll write a ficlet/snippet to go with it!]

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hiiiiiiyaaaaaa~! Hi there Laura~! I'm here to appreciate an under-appreciated blorbo! My sweet lady Finesse! And I'm not just here to ask questions, I'm here to give my own thoughts on the questions (I do have one question for you though, tee hee). But like, just please accept my Finesse ramblings.

🍁 - The most interesting thing about Finesse is her proximity to the royal throne. She calls Augustus great uncle so her grandparent is a sibling of the current king. We don’t know how many other people are in House Kira besides Damnatio but Finesse is part of the though (though possibly considered a part of a branch family since her last name is different). But she’s still probably in line for succession. Queen Finesse when? 😤

🍂 - Finesse's strength as a person is her courage. When Langris was possessed and Ratry going crazy in House Kira, Finesse threw herself at his back and begged him not to hurt everyone. She saw that and didn't hesitate to try to stop "Langris". She has no combat abilities, she's frail in general, but the bravery! It's amazing! I also want to point out how positive she is, not made bitter in the slightest by her weak constitution or the fact that she's been placed in an arranged marriage. I love her, your honor.

🌼 - I think what makes Finesse a strong character is her understanding. She shows no fear towards Langris after the elf possession. She forgives Finral for his womanizing ways and seems to eagerly await his efforts to be a man that will make her happy. And I think that's something both brothers need for their character arcs. She's someone to see the worst sides of them (even though Langris was possessed, it's still a bad look) and to still accept them.

🌻 - Literally she's got a weak constitution and is sickly. Enough said. But also... I think she was a little bit dense when trying to talk to a possessed Langris. It clearly wasn't Langris so like, girl, run!

🌿 - Weakness as a character, I'd say it's the fact that she wasn't brought up sooner. Like, Finral was having moments all the way back in Seabed Temple but she doesn't come up until the Royal Knights Exam. I really wish she'd been established sooner, that's all. I want more Finesse content essentially.

☘️ - I strongly believe she has Light Magic. We know it runs somewhere in the Kira family. Plus, I think the pressure to get her married and to sire an heir might be because she has such a rare and beloved magic attribute and the royal family wants that passed on.

🤝 - I’m pulling this straight out of nowhere but imagine Finesse having a friendship with Mereoleona. Mereo has the strength of body and character to be as free as she wishes. Imagine Finesse and Mereo sitting down for tea when Mereo is visiting civilization. Imagine Finesse listen in awe at Mereo’s many adventures in the wild. She’s jealous that she’s not as strong but she loves that Mereo is willing to sit down with her and indulge her curiosity about the world.

💎 - In your opinion, if Finesse had the strength to join a Magic Knight squad and wanted to be a knight (I honestly don't think she's be interested but this is just a hypothetical), which one would she go to?

Hiiiiyyaaa Erika!!! Oh! Finesse! Yes the sweet lady with blue eyes and a kind heart! She most definitely is under appreciated.

🍁- No but that is interesting. I've been rooting for King Nozel and Wizard King Fuegoleon, but Finesse as a Queen would be really interesting. Granted that we don't know enough about the line of succession or the Kiras (or Calmreichs for that matter) to say a lot. The fact that Auggie is eager to get her married does speak about her being very close to the throne, at least in my mind. I mean, why else would Auggie bother? The question is: Does Auggies consider her as a threat or not? XD /lh,hj However, this is a really interesting piece of trivia when it comes to Finesse.

🍂- You're right and you should day it! The fact that she is frail, and knows it, makes her action even braver, because she must've known that she had no real chance of stopping "Langris". And yet, she didn't hesitate. Because she's not the kind of a woman to stand idly by in the face of danger. Might not have been the smartest action to make, but sometimes the right things to do, are not the smart things to do.

Never thought I'd type such a sentence, but .. yeah.

🌼- Exactly! What strength she doesn't have in her body, she has in spirit. And she knows how much it must mean for both of the brothers, to see that they can be loved and are loved even with all their flaws, because everyone has them. Everyone has done wrong things in their life, and it doesn't mean that they don't deserve happiness as a result.

She has strength as most others.

🌻- Ah, the double edge of the sword of bravery. The pleading and talking to "Langris" like he was Langris, was probably out of desperation. I mean... if I was in that situation, I'd probably do the same. But as far as weaknesses go, this isn't a big one, even if it might be her greatest.

🌿- She is essential to the story, granted that it's through the Space Brothers, but it's difficult to place her into the picture because she just exists and she exists as a romantic interest. A part of me hopes that Tabs would give us something more to Finesse, put her in the spotlight because of something and explain more about her, but another part of me knows that she probably doesn't get addressed again.

Maybe that's be my complaint of her as a character too, that she just seems to exist as a romantic interest when there would be so much potential in her too. I mean... a compassionate and understanding Queen Finesse Calmreich when?

☘️- Now... would they have wanted her to marry Morgen in that case? Or would the whole "House of Faust" thing with the devils been too much to handle? Granted that then they might have had another asset (in devil power) very close to the thrown?

Regardless, that is a very good point about her magic to be something rare.

I'm even entertaining the idea of it being something that you'd want to combine with Spacial Magic to create something even more potent than Light or Spacial. What that might be, I'm not true. (Time anyone? XD ) Other than that, it's a bit difficult to say anything about her magic per se, granted that we don't know what it is.

🤝- As I read this, for some reason I imagined her sitting down with Nebra, but you're right. Mereo and Finesse would, perhaps, have a kind of mutual understanding that'd allow them to spend time together and catch up. They also are both the kinds of people who don't put others down to feel good about themselves. Mereo can be harsh, but she wants people to be strong.

So, I think any discussions Finesse has with Nebra might be a courteous get together between... royals.

💎- The Blue Roses, I think. She might not be so... averse to men as Charlotte, but I think that Finesse is a strong woman and someone who could portray a lot of the BRK ideals. My other choice would be the CLK, but I know I'm biased towards the Lions, and we all know that the Lions usually have very physically fit people. (Sorry Finesse.) So, I think that the BRK would be her choice.

[porkcracker]

New Years Headcanon

It's New Years Eve I'm bored and thus I shall best upon ye some New Years headcanons for some of my favourite blorbos of a variety of my fandoms. Happy New Years everyone.

Characters: Ratchet , Tuffnut, Undertaker, Rung and Ghost

Warnings: Hinted Suicide in Undertaker

Ratchet

Cybertronians get way way older than humans, so they do not celebrate such small amounts of time

There is a celebration similar in meaning on Cybertron too, but for a human it would be around 5.000 +/- years between each celebration

The first New Years Eve on earth, Ratchet doesn't even notice at first

It is only once their human companions start to mention it, or rather to celebrate, that he hears of it

Considering humanities short lives and Cybertrons own celebration, it doesn't surprise him much

Really, the celebrations are quite similar, there is food, music, drinks and people one likes

Still Ratchet doesn't join the celebration like some of the other bots

He understands the meaning for humans, but to him it is unnecessary to celebrate it

During the Cybertronian equivalent he'd be busy working on mechs that got overcharged and did stupid things, so he is at least glad he doesn't have to do so now

Might be swayed by Optimus later in the evening to at least join for a bit

He doesn't get much out of the celebration, but he likes the fireworks at midnight

Tuffnut

They don't celebrate New Years Eve on Berg, but instead they have Yule

Considering it covers both Christmas and New Years Eve it's way cozier

Usually he is spending time with Ruffnut, not that that is new to anyone

During the day they act mostly the same

But towards the evenings and nights they calm down and spend time together without much fighting

One of his favourite things about Yule is the food

But a close second are the stories

He likes to listen to them a lot and it isn't unusual for him to end up telling stories to younger children

They aren't always age appropriate, but he is highly regarded by the children for his voices and acting out the stories as he tells them

Will deny being soft for the kids forever

Undertaker

New Years isn't really that special to the Undertaker

There have been times, that Vincent Phantomhive would invite him to a New Years party, but only rarely

Similar there have been times in which he was invited to Shinigami New Years parties

Nowadays he either sits and makes himself some tea

Or he takes over the work so the others can celebrate

Sometimes he only joins additionally to pick up the slack

There is a certain inflation of work and newcomers around New Years

It always makes him chuckle just a bit, when he thinks about the way New Years often tends to be the time people make life changing decisions

That all, of course, only applies, if he doesn't have a body to care for or bury

Or a certain young Earl shows up at his shop

Rung

The idea for a New Years celebration came from Swerve after he realised the planet they were currently visiting was just having them

Most didn't really get the why, but it was a reason to celebrate so it was quickly approved and planned

Rung pretty quickly notices the connection this celebration and the one back on Cybertron has

If asked for his opinion or otherwise given the opportunity he will suggest things that were part of the celebrations on Cybertron

Once the celebration is held, he is quite amazed by the mix of new and old happenings

The crew is more or less happy and relax, so he is happier and more relaxed too

He's happy to see that the celebration is lifting everyone's mood

The party itself is loud and chaotic, but it's also homey in a way, reminding him of previous celebrations before the war

He knows, if there would have been invitations, he wouldn't have gotten one, so he's glad its for everyone no invitation needed

Will sip a mild drink and watch the other bots

He's one of the last bots online and standing and he makes a quick image capture for himself

Ghost

After the infection and near eradication of Hallownest, they don't really have a calendar anymore

The survivors pretty easily agree to make the new year start with the defeat of the Radiance

Seeing as this decision is made a bit after the Radiance is defeated, they have a late celebration that is a combination of New Years celebration and a celebration of Ghost defeating the Radiance

Ghost vaguely remembers similar celebrations they witnessed in the Waste

But they have no idea, which celebrations were for a new year and which for something completely else

Considering they were the one to defeat the Radiance, Lemm, Quirrel and Hornet want them to have decision power too

It turns out that they have no clue, when they accidentally start to mix in other celebrations as well

In the end they leave most to the three

Ghost really just cares about spending time with their friends and family

[mondscheinprinzessin]

same for me!! i don't care about the crossovers, i only consistently listen to lost society but it's not blorbo levels and if i add them in a fic its usually because it was requested. as for writing, i only care about the bc boys (and robin, i love robin) and yeah i do get the feeling of being left out because of it. sorry for using your askbox to vent 😅

No please, I think it's always lovely if you guys visit my askbox. And it's actually nice to know that I'm not the only one feeling that way.

Like on my bad days I'm feeling unreasonably upset about it, and get this really big fear that eventually, in a few months maybe, I've got no one to talk about this big interest of mine anymore. Maybe I'm so afraid of it because this fandom has given me so much back in a time I really needed it, so having that taken would be so devastating to me, so obviously I want to cling to that.

But also, seeing my mutuals happily talk about something else that I can't really participate in, again makes me feel left out. Like I don't listen to LS and Shiraz Lane because it doesn't entirely fit my taste in music, can't do anything about it.

It's nice that we can use them side characters, and give them little roles in fics, and I'm fine with reading that too (and I myself did that with Robin and Johnny because it's convinient), but I can't force myself to be interested in other people. Even if I liked them, I may not be interested, because sometimes it just doesn't click and they#re not worth it for me to read fics about.

[eponymousfics]

Just some personal anecdotal rambling while I take a break from cleaning about homesickness and writing:

(Under a cut bc it’s basically a personal essay lol)

I started writing Alola Again back in late 2021 (I think?) because the pandemic meant that my yearly visits back home had been on hold, and the yearning to go home was even stronger because of the general fear and anxiety of the whole situation.

I mean, it actually started because I decided to finally 100% my Alola ‘dex, since I’d sunk 1000+ hours into Animal Crossing: New Horizons at that point and needed a different game. Then Guzma suddenly hit a blorbo sweet spot in my head that had previously not existed (or had been entirely occupied by Nanu. I am a ‘cynical old man with a heart of gold he does his best to hide’ enjoyer).

I haven’t done a full reread of AA since fully uploading it, but I’ve gone back to some of the earlier chapters and listened back to a lot of my writing process voice memos, where I rambled to myself for collective hours trying to hash out plot details or pacing and character development etc.

I think looking back on it, I can safely say that fic would not have happened without the pandemic. That type of deep, concentrated homesickness that was the root and driving force behind its inception and execution was uniquely a result of quarantine isolation and the fact that I knew it wasn’t safe to travel home, and possibly wouldn’t be for a long time.

I already kind of knew this, because I wound up with the chance to go home in spring of 2022, when I had almost finished the fic but had a few more chapters left of the final draft to work out.

The INSTANT I was home, the tensed up spring of energy and need that had been pushing me along to make NaNoWriMo numbers every month for six months just…evaporated. And it was hard picking the fic back up again afterward. I couldn’t work on it much at all while I was home, which you’d think would be the opposite, since I could do ‘on location’ research, so to speak.

But AA is honestly so much more of the romanticized and idealized memory of my childhood and what I wish it could have been (much in the same way Alola itself is a very clean and idealized version of Hawaii, honestly almost pure tourist vision. Backed by real elements and actual research in places, yes, but also so carefully not mentioning/keeping out of frame the colonization and genocide of native culture while still presenting the polished version of the current state, which is entirely the result of those historical atrocities. Which, I can see why and how that happened, but I still have complicated mixed feelings over it and how much I enjoy the game despite that, and frankly in some ways because of it) that it became almost impossible to hold onto the dream that it was when sitting squarely in the middle of the reality it was based on.

As messy as things got because narratives need conflict, Mahina’s homecoming to Alola was everything I desperately wished my own could be. It’s simpler and easier because I have control over every element of it. All the emotional conflict happens on my terms because I’m the writer, I get to choose which emotional complications I want to examine and which I want to quietly pretend don’t exist.

And I get to see them all resolved, and have love and joy and humor thrown in to make it all palatable and worth it. It is baked with my baggage, it’s possibly more revealing than I should let anything put on the Internet be.

But I think a lot of fanfic is like that, and while there are a lotttt of technical flaws that I see now even just skimming over it in passing, the core of the story and the characters, the core of what it became, is still something I’m proud of.

And the fact that it’s finished, of course. Whatever else, it’s the first piece of long form writing that I’ve stuck to through multiple drafts to bring to completion. Is it perfect? No. Is it popular? No. Is it finished? Yes, and that’s important. For me, anyway.

Anyway, I’ve just had a lot of this on my mind because I’m home again, and slowly warming up to the idea of finally getting started on a sequel, which was always in the drafts but I needed space from it to even consider making a start. And because that deep down, bottom-of-the-soul homesickness is no longer gnawing at my every fiber. Whatever fuels the sequel, it won’t be that. I’ll have to attach a new anxiety onto it, I guess.

I think it did help me understand how to make these visits back home, though. Every time before had been fraught with tension between family members and an unnamed dissatisfaction because the reality of home couldn’t live up to the idealized yearning in my heart, but this trip…it’s been much easier.

I think the impromptu nature of it is helping. Originally, I wasn’t supposed to be here for three more weeks, but Circumstances(tm) dictated otherwise and I last-minute moved up my flight. Maybe I just didn’t have time to build up unrealistic expectations for it. Maybe I was just so depressed that the change of scenery has boosted me enough so I can just chill.

I don’t know what it is, probably a combination. But considering how I use fic as a big bandaid solution to not being able to afford therapy, well, I’ll probably wind up exploring it more in future writing. Whether that’ll be in the sequel to Alola Again or something else, we’ll see.

[ladyofthenoodle]

@cutestbug per your request i will expand on my tags on this post! i am starting a new post because i don’t want to derail op’s post rambling about blorbo from my shows

tldr of the original post: sometimes the princess in the tower story can be the story someone needs, especially for people with physical disabilities who might need stories about it being worth it to come to them. these stories say that you will not be forgotten and left abandoned in your tower if you can’t rescue yourself, that people will come for you and value you and you do not need to be mobile to be important (i do recommend clicking through to read the full post if you haven’t)

now adrien isn’t physically disabled in canon, but neither are most princesses in towers. like most fairytale princesses, he’s trapped in the tower by the villain. and just like those princesses, adrien is seen as someone worthy and desirable, a source of inspiration, someone who people seek out again and again even when he can’t come to them. he is the beacon of light, he is the one the hero longs for, he is important even when he’s gone.

but of course adrien doesn’t know any of that, not really. to quote the original post, adrien believes these messages: “You’re out of the narrative, you’re secondary, you’re a burden.” and “Nobody would want to visit; nobody would want to listen; nobody would want to stay.” but neither of those are true about him at all, even in season 4 when he has decreased screentime, the impact of that is felt strongly by the audience. and we know he’s at no point less important to the hero, who remains as dedicated to him as she always has been.

and this is where the identity dichotomy comes in and allows for both narratives. since season 1, being chat noir has been adrien’s escape from the tower. he’s the self-rescuing princess, he’s wonder woman breaking free from literal and metaphorical bondage, he’s able to fight for himself and for other people. and we have all long expected this to culminate in him rescuing himself in a more permanent way when they finally go head to head with hawkmoth. and that’s a great story! i want that for adrien and i want that for the people that need that story from adrien. i want him to face his father head on and say “you can’t control me, i’m my own person.” and i do think that is his story as chat noir.

but at the same time, i want him to know he is worth being rescued. that people will fight for him when he can’t fight for himself. because no one can fight all the time and we all deserve to know we are worth fighting for. that someone will make the journey to the tower for us. that we are worth fighting dragons for. because adrien doesn’t believe that about himself. which is why in season 4, when he is able to escape as chat noir less and less, as he is less and less able to fight and more and more trapped and left behind, he starts to feel worthless. if he can’t fight for himself, what’s the point? but meanwhile we see marinette is willing to slay every dragon for the boy trapped in his tower.

because of secret identities, the other characters don’t know adrien has the power to rescue himself. so our hero keeps trying to rescue him and hopefully one day adrien will see that he’s worth rescuing, he’s worth all the effort, even without being a hero himself, he’s important. even if he’s “useless.” he can fight side by side with ladybug as chat noir and also see ladybug being willing to do anything to save adrien even when adrien is out of reach. adrien can learn he is worth rescuing to other people while chat noir can simultaneously learn he can rescue himself. he can literally help ladybug rescue adrien as if adrien is an entity separate from himself. it’s a bit like having our cake and eating it too. and i just think that the set up of the lovesquare is so neat for that and that ladrien deserves all the rights.

[chickenparm]

Exclusivity (Jerril/f!Reader)

obscure blorbo time bay-beyyyyyyyyyyy. jerril frequents his favorite girl, but he's running short on time today.

Jerril/f!Reader 1,683 Words - NSFW P in V, Slightly Rough Sex, Lack of Preparation, Reader is a Sex Worker

---

Jerril - not his real name, but one he’s given you permission to call him by - is by far your favorite customer. If only because what he asks for is straightforward. The briefest smalltalk, nothing deeper. There’s no listening about his problems because he does not want to talk about them in depth. Hell, he doesn’t even stay longer than the time it takes him to catch his breath before he’s putting himself back together and leaving with only the barest of smiles and a quiet thank you.

He always tips.

He’s always on time, too. If Jerril sends you a message saying he’ll be arriving on a certain day at a certain time, he’ll be exact - down to the second, you’d timed it before. That was the day you gleaned a new piece of information from him; Jerril leaves quickly afterward because his day is planned down to the minute. Any variation will skew his plans for his work that he can’t tell you about.

The smile on his face when he’d told you that had been exhausted.

Once again, Jerril arrives on time. You know full well he could pick the lock to your apartment, but he doesn’t. You have your suspicions on his line of work, likely something to do with infiltration or the gathering of information. It surprises you that he’s willing to afford you that small amount of privacy by not simply entering your home when he knows he’s welcome.

“You’re tense today,” You remark when he walks by you and into the foyer. Jerril doesn’t remove his shoes, and you don’t ask him to. He’s the only guest that’s an exception to that rule, but only because he’d seemed so uncomfortable during the first visit when you asked him to. They’re never dirty, either way.

Jerril makes a beeline to the bedroom, and you realize it’s going to be one of those days. Quietly you follow, already working at the ribbons that hold the straps of your dress on your shoulders. Without even looking, he raises a gloved hand and waves it a bit airily, dismissive and noncommittal.

“Leave it on. I’m sorry, my dear, but I haven’t as much time today as I promised.”

Promised. Like he’s doing you a favor. You supposed he is, since most of your expenses are paid solely by the income from this single partnership, but if it needs to be rescheduled you’re not going to deny him. Either way, you give him a small smile that he just-barely sees from the corner of his eye.

“Since you’re on a time crunch, how about you just direct me how you’d like me this time-”

“On the bed. Over the side, hands above your head on the sheets. Grip them if you’d like.”

The way his tone drops an entire octave is signal enough that the gears have switched. Jerril is no longer the coolly polite man you share light conversation with. Now he’s in the mindset of taking what he needs for his own purposes, and you’re simply there to provide it. Fair enough, it’s what you expected at the very beginning.

Your bed is just high enough that you can bend over it without having to lower yourself, and you do as he asks by grabbing the sheets above your head with outstretched arms, fingers curled in the fabric loosely. Resting your chin on the mattress and staring forward, you wait for Jerril to do anything.

Despite the urgency he claimed there to be, he absolutely takes his time with running his hands up the back of your thighs to push the fabric of your skirt to your lower back. The gloves he’s wearing are warm, surprisingly enough, and that’s why your shock is more from the sensation rather than temperature when two fingers sweep up your folds from your hole to clit, smearing the wetness that’s beginning to gather.

“You didn’t prepare for me?”

“I wasn’t aware there was a time limit this time-”

“There’s a time limit every time, but I suppose you can be forgiven. Lube is still in your bedside table, am I correct?”

Instead of answering verbally, you nod and watch him take a step away from you. His glove glistens in the light, showing that you’re at least somewhat aroused. Not as much as usual, of course, but that can be fixed with the bottle he’s pulling from the drawer and pouring onto his fingertips.

The gloves are still on.

“Minimal prep this time, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t have anyone else today, I’ll be fine,” You promise him over your shoulder just as two fingers press into you, eased in their passage by the lube and your minimal wetness. Instead of easing you into it, Jerril’s fingers scissor against your walls, his eyes watching the movements with rapt attention instead of meeting your gaze.

As he uses his other hand to free himself, settling the weight of his cock on your ass and removing his fingers to use that lube on himself, Jerril speaks almost-absently. You know him just well enough at this point to know it’s feigned, too casual for him to be anything but imploring.

“I’d rather you not take them at all.”

“We’ve talked about this, you know why as well as I do that I can’t be exclusive-”

“I am aware.”

Jerril bookends that statement with the press of his cock inside you, stretching uncomfortably despite the slight preparation he’d given you. You’re expecting it though, and your fingers dig into the sheets with a scratching sound of your nails. Jerril stills for only a moment, and only when his hips are flush against you.

Then, like a switch has been flipped, it’s all sound and movement and the slapping of hips against your ass as he braces those gloved hands of his against the backs of your shoulder blades. His palms press into you bruisingly, his weight put behind them as he leverages every thrust with them.

Jerril likes sounds, every little whine and moan and yelp you can make, he relishes in it. You learned this early, and are forthcoming with anything that he can drag from your throat. Everything except his name - he loathes it, says it’s pointless to do so since it’s merely an identifier and not his true moniker.

It’s all you know him as, and it may as well be his name, so you have to catch yourself from blurting it out when his hips angle just right and he’s dragging himself along your walls in just the right way, learned from repeated trysts just like this one, though never this frantic. Never to the extent that you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises on you as his hands travel from your back to the tops of your shoulders.

His gloves groan with the pressure as he grips you, fingertips catching on your shoulder muscles to pull you back onto him every time. It smarts painfully when he does, but you say nothing but a continuous stream of whimpers while gripping the sheets harder.

“Where?” It’s a breathless question, one that you have to force yourself to comprehend. You take too long to piece the meaning together, and suddenly Jerril’s leaning harder against you, crushing you into the mattress with his mouth at your ear. A quiet, near-silent groan leaves him, wavering at the edges as he releases inside you with short jerks of his hips for a bit more friction.

The expectation is that he’ll stay like this for a moment, leaning on you for support until his breathing is less labored. Then he’ll put himself away, ensure that there’s no evidence of your meeting, and then be on his way. It’s why you’re endlessly surprised when he pulls out of you, stands straight, and drops to a knee behind you.

The gloved fingers filling you are still foreign, especially as he starts with three and curls them harshly against your g-spot with pinpoint precision. His other hand comes to the bundle of nerves at the top of your folds, and you’re done for within seconds as he mercilessly brings you to orgasm.

It’s not as slow or as intimate as you’d like, and almost feels like a formality more than any genuine desire to make your eyes roll back in your head like they currently are, but you appreciate the release nonetheless. The beg for him to stop barely passes your lips before he’s pulling his hands away, gloves soiled by his release, yours, and the lubricant.

Instead of throwing them away, he merely tugs them off with short, practiced motions before they’re tucked in his pockets inside-out. Perhaps he can have them cleaned somehow, or… maybe he has other ideas for them. It’s a silly thought, one that stems from your hazy brain as you watch him go through the motions of cleaning himself and perfectly arranging his dark clothing once more.

Instead of leaving right away, Jerril approaches you where you’re still prone and lays a hand on your back, just where the redness of your new bruises is beginning to form. It’s likely the closest you’ll get to an apology, but you don’t need one. Jerril eyes them, then looks at your sweaty and flushed face before speaking the smallest suggestion.

“Think about it. Exclusivity. The initial terms we agreed upon can be changed. Take care of yourself, I’ll be in touch.”

After he leaves, and you’re soaking in your bathtub to soothe the bruises, you wonder what the possibility of that exclusivity would entail. It’s obvious, of course - nothing would change except you’d no longer provide your company to others. You’d be Jerril’s personal companion, though your rate would have to increase to compensate.

But on the other hand, in your sex-fogged brain that leans a bit too far over the line into romanticism, you wonder if this would be your chance to finally crack the shell you’ve been picking at for so long now. If Jerril would allow you beyond it, to see what he’s hiding so meticulously.

[montaguues]

5, 10, and 15 for Hok'dosha! <3

sorry this took a bit! sometimes it's hard to have coherent thoughts about my blorbos and put pen to paper to text!

5. Is there something they want to be known for?

So last we left Hok’Dosha (HD), she assumed the position of head of the Hok’Molen. A position that she felt quite hesitant to take because in her mind, she lacked the fundamental skills to lead as her mentor Thelamen lead. I see HD early in her long journey realizing that Thelamen’s teachings from over the years and her fellow monks give her the capacity and resources to be more than decent at her job.

Hok’Dosha wants to be known by her order and the lower ring of Chaon as someone who cares deeply for the Hok’Molen and what they stand for. She will do everything in her power to protect them. She also wants to be known as someone who is willing to take a chance on anyone who feels less than worthy as her mentor did for her.

Among her friends, she wants to be known as someone who’s always down to spar (even at times where it might be a bit inappropriate), and someone who can lend an ear. She might not always know what to say, but she understands that sometimes people just need someone to listen.

10. what inspired this character’s creation?

I really didn't want my first dnd character to be too crunchy. I just finished listening to the hexblood chronicles (for the second time?) so a monk felt like the right choice. Her subclass is Way of the Shadow so she’s pretty stealthy. With that, I decided that HD had a bit of an aversion to being perceived, but she also wanted to help her community in any way she could. The lower rings of Chaon were not doing too hot before the Second Dawn arrived, so she was pretty busy sneaking around and making sure the people of the lower ring were taken care of.

Also, she wasn’t intended to be so uh… aloof, sometimes nervous players bleed into their characters. Her stillness was interesting though. I wouldn’t normally associate that type of quality with someone who’s existence is tied with the wind. I would assume that they would be friendlier, warmer, a little more spaced out. My girl is a walking paradox :)

15. is there something that never fails to make them laugh?

Now I might have to run this by Joe, but I think she gets tickled by her party’s group name: Earth, Wind & Fire. There’s just something funny there, but she can’t seem to place the joke. Also, the name isn’t that creative? For context, their group is composed of an Earth genasi (Delta), Air genasi (Hok’Dosha), and a Fire genasi (Sulf). I like to think that a visiting scholar from another order gave it to them as a pet name when they were nosy tweens and it just kinda stuck? They seem to find themselves in a lot of trouble (and fun) every September 21st.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hi Laura! Congratulations on your Tumblr anniversary! That's very exciting! 🥰 I am super thrilled about your underappreciated blorbo event, so how about some Henry thoughts? I feel like he's really underrated (even by me 😅 who rarely talks about him despite him being one of my favorite characters in the series. Sorry Henry 🙈). I think I'll let you answer with your thoughts first, and then (maybe) I'll share some of mine too! Could you please answer the following?

🍂What is their strength as a person?

🌼What is their strength as a character?

🌻What is their weakness as a person?

🤝Their friendships? Any thoughts on those? (I always wondered if he and Vanessa might become good friends after connecting on both having been essentially locked up and isolated from other people for so long. They have a bit of a "[Former] Caged Birds Club" in my mind, and Henry kind of looked out for her from afar from the time she first arrived at the hideout and made sure she always had big windows in her rooms (and was close to the exit) since he really sympathized with her backstory).

Thank you so much, dear, and congratulations again!! 💕

Hiya Acacia!

I'm super happy to have you around for the event and I'm glad to hear that you like it! ^^ Henry is definitely on the underrated spectrum (I mean, it's because of him that the BB base is a transformer), so I'd gladly oblige ^^

🍂What is their strength as a person?

Henry's strength as a person I think stems from his patience. I mean, he has to be patient, because he's only able to speak at half the pace most people are, and it must be frustrating to him. So, he's had to learn to be patient with himself. And I think that since he has only had enough mana to barely stay alive for a good while, he also needed to adapt and learn quickly when it came to using his magic for more than a few adjustments here and there to the base.

He's giving himself time to learn, and taking it step by step. Which is an important quality and skill to have in a person. And I think it's that quality in him that also translates onto how he converses with others, allowing them, too, to take their time, which emphasizes how empathetic he can be. Because having actually time to formulate your words for someone willing to listen is a rare thing.

He has a lot of good qualities to him, but I think that his patience has allowed a lot of them to come to the surface in the best of ways.

🌼What is their strength as a character?

I think that the mystery that surrounds Henry makes him a good character. We still don't, really, know the condition he has that causes him to drain mana from others. Is it a curse? A disease? Something else? I think I saw someone suggest that Henry could be half giant similarly as Charmy is half dwarf. Which... would be interesting considering they take and supply mana, so they're in a way counterparts of each other.

But the fact that Henry is a mystery, allows them to have things like... a moving base, which is unlike any others, and would come as a surprise to most. He's an ace in the sleeve of the BBs.

🌻What is their weakness as a person?

Perhaps inability to relate to others? We haven't seen him open up to a lot of the characters, but I imagine that he'd find it difficult to relate to others due to being bedridden for most of his life and secluded from the world. He is patient and empathetic, but he probably needs to learn to understand the way it is for people who can come and go as they please, before doing more than just listening, quite simply because it can be very difficult for him to say anything.

As the series progresses, he gets around more and befriends the Bulls better, thus making him closer to them and able to find things to relate on, but I think it's very much a learning journey for Henry too.

🤝Their friendships? Any thoughts on those?

Asta is probably his very first human friend (I say "human" because animals probably visited him before that), so he'd be the obvious choice to talk about when it comes to Henry and his friendships. And, in a way, since Asta didn't have magic and Henry didn't have magic to spare, due to... well, using it to live, I think they have a footing to connect on that aspect as well, though I don't think they talked about it when Asta came to chat in the early days when he was the only one to really connect with Henry due to being the only one really able to do so.

But aside of Asta, I think that Vanessa and Secre could both fall into the "caged person" thematic, since Secre was trapped as Nero for 500 years and Nessa was trapped in a literal cage, while Henry was... I suppose both, trapped in his own body that drains mana from those around him, and in his home due to said condition. But I could see Henry creating kinds of "nests" for both Nessa and Secre so that they'd have a comfy place to be. I don't mean a literal nest, but just a cozy nook for them to exist, because sometimes life is overwhelming, and even on a subconscious level I think he was able to relate to them. And though Nessa and Secre weren't able to come and chat with Henry as much, at least they felt cared for by their new home at the BB hideout.

Thank you for participating! ^^ And thank you!!