#RIGHT IN FRONT OF DEIRDRE

[jesuistrefatugie]

Confession: This inspired me to write an AU where Deirdre taught Soren.

Forest dwellers meeting a blue-haired guy once and deciding He Is The One

[aziraphales-library]

Ello ello ello! Are there any humorous fics you know that involve an exorcism? Preferably lighthearted ones =) perhaps a similar vibe to Shane and Ryan in this one video: https://youtu.be/RzPk6VHPeDY?feature=shared

I hope that made sense!! I don't know how else to describe what I'm looking for T0T

2/2: Hi hi! It's that ryan and shane anon, i think i found a better way to describe what I'm looking for? Just anything involving someone looking for paranormal happenings going on, doesn't have to be an exorcism-- but still something humorous and lighthearted If someone already requested something like this, sorry bout that

Hello. You'll be interested in this post about paranormal investigations of the bookshop, including some buzzfeed unsolved crossovers. Here are some more lighthearted paranormal fics...

Hey There, Demons by IneffableAlien (T)

Married paranormal investigators Azra and Crowley explore an abandoned asylum. It goes about as well as you might expect.

The Wrong Side of the Door by HolyCatsAndRabbits (M)

Crowley had been with this group of ghost-hunters for two years, Aziraphale for three. They’d never had a conversation that didn’t end in an argument. If they weren’t both essential (read: would work this as a side job on the weekends for low pay), Gabriel would have fired one or both of them a long time ago. So now, as Aziraphale conducted his interview, Crowley was sure to scowl at him when he looked up. Because Aziraphale was on camera and couldn’t scowl back. Aziraphale returned his focus to Deirdre with an irritated huff of breath that Crowley did not miss. “What happened that day you stayed home?” he asked her. Deirdre talked with her hands, shaping out her thoughts in a vague, fluttery way. “I started hearing things, like scraping noises. From upstairs.” She pointed, as if they’d need direction, maybe thinking they might not be able to imagine what had happened that day, not in this warm and well-lit room with the open window and the front door in sight.

paranormal activity by dykeula (G)

"Humans were to ghosts what ghosts were to humans: a delightful jest to pass the time if the radio didn’t offer any relief. Sort of like chatting to fellas from oversees. They talked funny, wore fancy hats and were to be enjoyed with caution, and in doses. Problem was when they wouldn't leave Crowley alone." --  Back in the midst of the 19th century, a certain gentleman by the name of Mr. Fell aquires the rights to a particular empty store in London that's been closed for a while - for good reason. But what challenge's a little haunting to an ethereal being, right? It's tickety boo. Crowley, on the other hand, very much objects to his newest roomie. So far his track record for scaring off potential buyers is holding at a steady 100%. But what challenge's a bookish nerd to a omnipresent malevolent spirit, right? It's tickety boo.

Ghostly Ever After by Tiny_Dragongirl (T)

They say it’s all sorted out after you are dead—but sometimes, just sometimes, things need a bit of sorting-out even after you are dead. Aziraphale Fell and Anthony J. Crowley, professional paranormal investigators, might be the perfect candidates for handling problems of the supernatural, after-life kind. Only if they would sort out their own lives while they are alive… A romantic comedy, where ghosts are gathering, tempers are flaring, and love is rising above all.

Pulling Heaven Down by Bluethenstaub, PepperPrints (M)

Anthony J. Crowley is the best paranormal investigator in London. From minor poltergeist problems to full blown exorcisms, he does it all, satisfaction guaranteed. There’s only one catch: it’s all a con. At least, that’s what Crowley thinks. A run in with a strange, ethereal competitor threatens to turn Crowley’s world upside down, and before he knows it he finds himself caught up in affairs that might be way, way above his paygrade.

YES. YES. YES. GOODBYE? by AppleSeeds (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley are independently dragged along to a paranormal investigation event in a haunted castle on Halloween. They're both extremely sceptical about the whole thing, but manage to keep themselves entertained. Self-indulgent Halloween nonsense, 10 chapters taking place between 8.45pm on 31st October and 3.15am on 1st November. Attraction will be instantaneous. Hands will be joined together for a séance. Fingers will brush against each other on the planchette of a Ouija board. A scrying mirror will be used for indiscreet ogling. Crowley will be dressed inappropriately and need warming up. You get the idea.

- Mod D

[disasterbiwriter]

For what it’s worth, Luke doesn’t hate Christmas.

Okay, yes, the commercialism sends him into a tailspin, but he’s hardly alone there, right? And light pollution is bad enough for migratory birds without the Griswolds of the world throwing up 500 strands of blinking fairy lights. And he does hate about 99% of all Christmas music and he doesn’t care if he is alone in that respect – why is a wife-beating son-of-a-bitch like Bing Crosby considered a Christmas staple?! 

But that doesn’t mean he hates Christmas.

He does like the quiet parts of Christmas, what little of them remain. Although not religious, he can appreciate a Christmas hymn – his earliest Christmas memory is dozing on his dad’s shoulder in front of their Christmas tree, his mother’s sweet, rusty voice humming O Come, O Come, Emmanuel. And he’s not such a Grinch that he doesn’t appreciate a little kid’s joy on Christmas morning: he still remembers Lizzie’s unparalleled delight upon opening up her Lite-Brite the year she turned five.

His stomach curdles when he thinks about his sister. This is the longest they’ve ever intentionally gone without speaking – unintentionally, well, that’s always been more frequent. He lost track of her for the entirety of 1982 and most of 1985. Not that there’s much Liz probably has to say to Luke that she hasn’t screamed at him on the phone since the horrible day that Child Protective Services took Jess.

 Jess. The curdled stomach comes back with a vengeance. He reaches automatically for the bottle of Tums that he’s taken to keeping in his back pocket, shakes three out into his palm. He wonders for the ten thousandth time how his nephew is, whether he’s scared, whether the gifts Luke sent for Christmas made it to the foster home – Deirdre, the foster mom, is perfectly nice but does not believe in returning phone calls.

Okay, so this year, maybe he does hate Christmas.

[coytheon]

I LOVE episode 2. There's so much set up I didn't notice on my first watch-through. Obligatory spoiler warning for the whole show.

I need to talk about Maddie at Logorhythms. No one is expecting her to play a role. Everyone, Ellen included, thinks she's just accompanying her mother to a meeting about her dad. Pope thinks he holds power in this situation, he thinks he gets to set the terms, he thinks he's bested them on all fronts. Maddie wears that unbetraying facade and looks almost bored by the whole situation. I'm obsessed with how calm she is throughout the whole ordeal. Fucking radical.

Then she turns the tables on all of them, gets what she wants, rescues David and gets to walk out freely. I feel like this foreshadows her arc. She never lets the world make her powerless. She becomes a god and pries the power back from the world's clutch.

Cherry on the cake is Deirdre's panic at two UI's being out in the open and the show immediately cutting to Chanda. No notes. Absolutely perfect delivery. Chanda's upload is just as gruesome the second time around. I wanna go back at some point and analyze his last words. I feel like there's a hidden meaning in them or it's a reference to something.

We're introduced to Justine who is an icon!! from the first second she appears on screen. I have some gripes with how she's portrayed, but for the most part, her writing is wondeful. She's radical. The world rejects her and she rejects it right back. Her music taste is based too :3

This is where the illusion of Cary and Renee really falls apart. Things aren't going right and Renee attributes all that to Cary and oh boy is she pissed. If in the first episode they seemed like a loving couple in some scenes, here that idea is shattered completely.

Pope foreshadowing Caspian's identity by indirectly calling him "[Stephen]'s baby" is genius in its execution. You don't really know what exactly he's referring to, it could be a number of things really, Logorhythms, UI research, but in hindsight he's obviously talking about Caspian.

Peter Waxman oh Peter Waxman. There's something so wet cat about him. The way he trusts Pope because he doesn't realize he knows Pope is a liar. He doesn't realize he isn't in the inner circle, that he's being manipulated. He thinks he's protected but in reality, Pope doesn't care about what happens to him. He believes he's doing the right thing, that's what gets me about him. He also gives me mad gender envy lmao

All in all, banger episode. Lots of reveals, lots of wonderful characterization. Soooo much set up for things yet to come.

[mononokecrossing]

🪿 👒 🧺 🍃 🌾

𝑑 𝑟 𝑒 𝑎 𝑚 𝑖 𝑛 𝑔 𝑜 𝑓…𝐅 𝐢 𝐨 𝐫 𝐞 𝐥 𝐥 𝐚 | 004

no matter what i do, i feel like i am absolutely not going to be able to do this tour justice, this is literally one of the most gorgeous islands i’ve ever visited via dream. the ten images i could pick here don’t do the island justice at all. i’ll be uploading a tonnn more over on my Pinterest, but let’s get started with the description and my time on fiorella.

we’ve got our rep mable, molly, joey, deirdre, alice, ellie, fauna, ione, penelope, beau, blaire as residents and all resident homes are completely redesigned! i’ll get more into them and how stunning they are, but we’re met with quite a few gifts right off resident services! as per mable’s instagram post, you can find these to the right of resident services, but to get to the airport to start your tour, you’re going to want to head down and left. definitely start there because the entrance is so pretty. you’re met with some simpler terraforming, covered with florals and that’s a theme over the whole island. there are flowers absolutely everywhere.

something i always worry about is over doing the florals, picking too many varieties, too many colors, too many types but fiorella’s floralscape is just perfect. i love the blend of the different types, i love the pinks and blues and purples and whites, we really see a lot of what the game has to offer with them! normally i stick to maybe one or two different styles but i love the use of so many. it’s done absolutely beautifully. my pathway took me from the entrance, around the left side of the island, wrapping all the way to the top, slowly snaking my way down and to the right. i really did not want to miss a single thing.

but, like i was saying, all of the villager homes have been redone. this is something i’m so envious of, this first photo below shows fauna & blaire’s homes, and they’ve been redone to fit the island of fiorella so well. i’m loving the cream tones, the blue doors, even the bridge moment out front-which is just decor. i love that so much.

i pictured alice’s and molly’s interiors because i was able to snap a few photos of them, i wasn’t able to visit everyone, some residents were out wandering but literally look how pretty they are. they’re giving grandma, they’re giving cottagecore, they’re so dreamy, it’s somewhere i’d imagine like a little cottage out in the countryside somewhere. beautifully executed. as with everyone’s homes who i was able to visit.

mable got so creative with absolutely every inch of this island. i found myself literally in awe of every turn, every new area, even the filler decor areas fit in with her theme so well, literally only aiding in the flow of her island. one of my favorite parts of her island was the hop spots. i love a good hop spot, she had multiple places where she utilized them instead of maybe a bridge or terraforming and nothing would have fit better.

multiple different “neighborhoods” really showed off the skills mable has with not only decorative areas, but yards. keeping the flow between homes, making them really fit together, so everyone had a space while remaining “on the island” and not straying from her theme. i find a lot of inspiration where villager yards are fit more towards their personalities and mable truly makes it feel like THEY are living on HER island, not that their homes just happen to be plopped down there.

i was truly blown away, as i keep saying, i will never stop saying it because it really is just that mind blowing to me that we play the same game. i don’t know if you guys feel that was sometimes, but i definitely do.

a huge thank you to mable for being such an amazing part of to community, i loved touring and i’ll definitely be taking some inspiration for future builds and islands from you. i cannot wait to see what your future plans hold, but you definitely have a lot to live up to!

if you haven’t yet, PLEASE go check out, follow, support this amazing creator over on instagram. her page can be found linked here.

𝐜 𝐮 𝐫 𝐫 𝐞 𝐧 𝐭 𝐥 𝐲 𝐝 𝐫 𝐞 𝐚 𝐦 𝐢 𝐧 𝐠 𝐨 𝐟 | fiorella | DA-6475-2469-4982

𝐩 𝐫 𝐞 𝐬 𝐞 𝐭 | presets currently are not available, all personally made. as of right now, i don’t have plans on releasing them! a lot of the time, my edits are based on the island i’m on, and the lighting of the season 👒🌾

𝐝 𝐞 𝐬 𝐢 𝐠 𝐧 𝐜 𝐨 𝐝 𝐞 𝐬 / 𝐜 𝐫 𝐞 𝐚 𝐭 𝐨 𝐫 𝐬

👒 a few codes are available via highlight linked here

𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑, 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚 𝑎𝑑𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑑𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑖𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑑.

[lizzybeth1986]

Too Little, (But Perhaps Not) Too Late

Book: The Royal Romance

Rating: PG

Pairing: Kiara & Penelope (platonic). Hints of Hana x Kiara.

Word Count: 3, 085 words.

Summary: At King Liam and Duchess Esther's bachelorette party, Penelope has something to say to her best friend Kiara.

A/N: This is supposed to take place during the events of TRR3 Ch 16 (the MC's bachelorette), but with significant changes that will be a part of my series Petals and Thornes. Penelope's surname is Drammir, the bachelorette is not in Vegas but at Côte d'Or in Cordonia, and by this point in the story Kiara and Hana are secretly a couple.

Tagging @kiaratheronappreciationweek for KTAW Day 5: Friendships, @choicesficwriterscreations for FotW, @choicesjunechallenge2024 for Ending/Beginning, @choicescommunityevents for Best Friend Day.

"Un Soixante Quinze, s'il vous plait."

Kiara has been to Côte d'Or - and this nightclub - enough times that every bartender there knows without even looking at her that her favourite is a slightly tart French 75; Deirdre smiles, her eyes trained on a violet-coloured bottle somewhere.

"I'll do you one better, Lady Kiara. How about some Empress Gin and a dash of lime?"

Kiara's laughter is a silent gurgle in her throat rather than the court-appropriate tinkle or a loud cackle (that for some reason, Hana seems to love so much), the amusement making her eyes light up. "That'll be fun."

Far more fun at least than watching half the court pair up for dancing from the sidelines, knowing she can't do the same. Yet.

She tries to make her sideways glance towards the other side of the bar look casual, but damn if Hana doesn't make it hard. In a black velvet minidress studded with diamanté, like stars in the night sky, she looks good enough to eat. There is a faraway, dreamlike feel to the way she stares, unseeing, at the opposite wall; Kiara shudders. The same dreams haunt her too, night and day.

Olivia seems to be sashaying her way to the spot where Hana stands, and Kiara turns away, swallowing. That woman has a knack for noticing everything and using that skill against everyone around her in the worst ways. Neither she nor Hana need the additional humiliation of being caught by Olivia Nevrakis of all people, before they're truly ready.

She jumps as she hears a jaunty hello right behind her. It's Penelope - practically prancing her way to Kiara from her spot on the dance floor, flushed and ridiculously happy, several tendrils of hair out of place, lips and cheeks rosier than usual. Kiara instinctively searches the crowd for her brother Ezekiel, and finds him talking to a minor noble some distance away, the dishevelment of his hair barely noticeable.

Kiara smiles back at Penelope. Clearly this night isn't going to be just a celebration of King Liam and Queen Esther's very obviously romantic union, but also a chance, for the many couples that have cropped up in the past few months, to be open about their love in the wake of that passionate love story. Cordonia seems to be changing, Kiara thinks, with a brief pang (she tries...really hard this time...not to look over at Hana again), right in front of her very eyes.

Penelope's attention has already shifted to the way Deirdre masterfully mixes Kiara's drink. The gin and the simple syrup had already been mixed and shaken before Penelope made her appearance; Deirdre's now getting to what Kiara knows Penelope would consider the fun part. She squeezes out a wedge of lime, quietly stealing a glance at her audience of two as the drink's hue changes from clear to a rather vibrant shade of purple.

"Ohhhh," Penelope's gasp comes out in a burst of pleasure.

"Empress 1908 Gin," Kiara whispers to her, "they infuse the concoction with butterfly pea blossoms. They change colour if you add anything acidic to it."

Penelope handwaves the information away with the carelessness she gives most pretty things - it only matters that they look pretty; she couldn't care less for the process that gave her that incredible sight.

Much as Kiara doesn't like to admit it...the word "careless" does seem to be the apt word to define how Penelope goes through her life.

Carelessness in court. Carelessness in her everyday life. Carelessness with belongings, with tasks, with people. Even the ones she genuinely believes (and she does. Truly) she loves.

Part of it - Kiara is aware - has to do with how overwhelming court life, on its own, can be for her. Penelope may have exaggerated some of the hardships she seems to face, but this she has never once lied about.

Navigating court is hard enough, even for Kiara herself, but too often Penelope exudes the appearance of a doe entering a den of lions. For every one thing she manages to get right, Penelope has to fear the hundred things she'll do wrong. At some point you just get resigned to the possibility that a good day might be one where you made fifteen mistakes rather than fifty.

But anyone who stays around Penelope long enough knows that there is a inherent lack of urgency about her, a certain reluctance to think things through, a certain comfort with being tended to, getting pampered, being let off out of sympathy even as her choices wreak havoc. A tendency to consider only her comforts and no one else's.

It isn't meant maliciously. These things just don't occur to her.

Kiara meets Penelope's eyes once, then nods and turns to Deirdre with an order for a strawberry daiquiri. Penelope passes her a grateful glance, relieved at having that decision taken out of her hands.

Kiara sighs. There are a great many things you learn to get used to as Penelope Drammir's best friend - her indecision and passivity being one of them. She shakes her head as she absently twirls her stirrer over her drink. The days Kiara allows herself to think of how annoyed she used to feel (way back during the engagement tour) around Penelope are few and far between, and she does feel guilty of doing her friend a disservice whenever she does. Of being ungenerous, judgemental.

Of abandoning empathy. Even if empathy is a gift she hardly expects to get herself from...well, from anyone.

Kiara steals another glance towards the other end of the bar. Hana and Olivia are standing side by side, their backs facing the bar, their eyes never leaving the dancing couples. From time to time Olivia seems to say something (and Kiara almost bites down her cheek to stop herself from going there and rising to Hana's defense, in case it's something nasty). If Hana is affected, you couldn't tell - so nonchalant is her stance against the bar.

Hana's words from a week ago - warm and soothing and smelling of melted chocolate - still ring in Kiara's ears. You deserve to have people you can lean on, Kiara. As much as anyone else. You need to be able to depend on your friends sometimes too.

Her hand barely ghosts over her side, but Kiara doesn't allow it to linger there. She allows the words to wash over her, like balm. Like some sort of elixir that she hopes will heal her, slowly, spreading its warmth and sweetness in small trickles, taking away the hurt and resentment and self-derision bit by bit.

When she's calm enough to turn to Penelope's side again, she catches her friend staring.

Her eyes no longer on her dairiquiri; she stirs it absently, very much the way Kiara just did a few minutes ago. Those very eyes are suddenly a deeper blue, a darker shade, her gaze more intent and more serious than anything she has ever seen from Penelope in all the years they've known each other.

Kiara takes a nervous sip of her drink (sweet. tart. refreshing), her laughter betraying a slight discomfort. "You're staring at me like I've grown an extra head."

Penelope's gaze doesn't shift back to her usual - the unfocused flitting of the eyes from corner to corner. The intensity of it makes Kiara shift a little in her seat. For all her faults, seeing Penelope be her usual thoughtless, fickle-minded self - always distracted by the newest shiny object or the antics of the nearest dog - has always been reassuring.

"I...I haven't been a very good friend to you, Kiki, have I," Penelope says, quietly.

She says it as if it isn't a question but a statement, as if she has thought enough about it that it has become an already-unquestionable fact in her mind - that for a few moments Kiara finds it hard to say anything in response.

"What makes you say that, Nena?" She says, using that old affectionate nickname that Penelope only allows family and close friends to use with her.

Penelope fiddles with the shell bracelet she usually wears with the dress she's wearing, a sumptuous affair in her house colours - completely inappropriate for Esther's bachelorette (they're all supposed to wear dark or muted colours so the bride could shine in her sparkly gold outfit). But because it's Esther - who honestly couldn't care less - Penelope managed to get away with it.

Much like she has managed to get away with a great deal of things, Kiara realises with an unfortunate twist in her gut. A terrible court performance. Being involved in smearing another courtier's name (learning about that last engagement tour, realising Penelope was comfortable expecting friendship from the woman she did that to and never even bothered to let Kiara know almost ended their friendship for good). Wanting Esther and her friends to pamper her within an inch of her life if they wanted her to accompany them for their tour, even though her past conduct demanded - ethically - that she at least offer unconditional support.

(And never, ever once asking about how Kiara was healing after she was released from hospital. But that was something, perhaps, that she couldn't lay blame on Penelope alone for. For the longest time, her injury really seemed to matter that little to most).

And whether or not Penelope seems to realize how good she has had it without making enough effort from her end, yet...she certainly seems to have made a good enough start right now.

Penelope's voice goes a little softer, her eyes suddenly unable to meet Kiara's. "I think it's all the time Zeke and I have been spending together," she says, one fingernail tracing the seam of a fake shell. "He's been feeling a bit guilty himself, you know. He always tells me he's the older one, he's the one who should be taking care of you...but it's you always playing that role instead."

Kiara winces. "Well... he's never asked that of me, has he?"

Has it been like that, really? Has it? All she knows of her relationship with Zeke is how often she loses patience with him when his reluctance to move out of his safe zone creates problems, either for himself or their family. It's the one thing she has always felt a little guilty about - as much as she has felt whenever she got frustrated with Penelope.

"That's the worst part, he says. That he let you adopt that role, and never give you the same level of support. That of course you find him a little hard to understand, but that never stopped you from trying to help. And of course you never ask for any help in return, but there were so many times you should have gotten it from him anyway," Penelope's sigh comes out in a shuddering breath, and Kiara notices a redness creeping up to her cheeks from her neck. "I never realised until he said that, that I've treated you that way too."

When Penelope looks at Kiara this time, her lashes are spiky with tears. Kiara tries to swallow the lump in her own throat, suddenly overwhelmed.

For a while now, these were thoughts Kiara did have. Thoughts she'd tried to quash in the many, many hours she spent struggling to move in that hospital bed without feeling that pain on her side, thoughts she fought off after being reminded - again and again and again - how she got hurt there. Thoughts that terrified her so much she suppressed them, experiencing a mixture of relief and disappointment when no one, not even her close friends, seemed to find what happened to her important enough to remember.

These were thoughts she could only allow herself to have for no more than a few minutes. They would damn near destroy her if she thought about them any longer than that.

These were the thoughts that made her want to kick herself for being so ungenerous and petty and judgemental. To hear those same words, the words she only allowed herself to think in her darkest, most bitter moments, from Penelope's mouth - without blame, without censure - and to know that Zeke has felt it too...there is a burn in Kiara's throat that she knows won't leave for a long, long time.

Oh, no, Nena, a part of Kiara still wants to say, you're a wonderful friend. Those words, constantly at the tip of her tongue whenever Penelope gets into one of her melancholy, self-pitying moods, seem to haunt Kiara again, urging her to keep their friendship the way it is. Unequal. Unbalanced. Practically one-sided. Kiara forever as protector, Penelope forever as protected. It must be better that way.

Hana's words come back to her - a balm to her bruised spirit.

You need to depend on your friends too.

"I may not have been the friend you needed all this time, Kiki," Penelope whispers, "but from today, I promise you I'll really try."

As Kiara does in the rare occasions she finds herself overcome with emotion, she lets out a wavering, watery laugh.

Will Penelope truly change that? She doesn't know yet. But damn does it feel good that she cares enough to try.

All this time, all this guilt and self-blame...for not being the kind of friend most people would insist Penelope needed. All this resentment, because people would certainly think long and hard about what it meant to be literally anyone else's friend and catering to their needs. Olivia's. Penelope's. Even (ugh) Madeleine's.

But not Kiara's. Never Kiara's.

"I don't know how to respond to this yet, Nena. But I need you to know that I appreciate this. Truly."

Putting her daiquiri down, Penelope crushes her in an impulsive hug that almost sends tiny purple droplets of Kiara's drink flying onto her outfit. Neither of them notice.

They part, reluctantly, and spend the rest of their time together drinking in companiable silence as the vibrations from the nightclub's loud music thumps on the floor beneath them. When the tune changes to a slower, more romantic tune, Kiara can't stop herself from taking a peek at the other side of the bar.

Penelope follows her gaze, and smiles when it lands on Hana. "You should go there."

"Hmm?" Kiara murmurs, barely hearing Penelope. Hana and Olivia are still talking, but the vibes feel far more chilly than they seemed to be a few minutes ago. Now Hana is the one slightly smiling, like the cat who got the cream, and Olivia looks surprisingly...pale? Perhaps a little ill?

Definitely not as smug as she seemed when she sauntered her way to Hana's side.

She isn't sure how that came about, but the possibility that Hana may have had something to do with it does fill her with an odd sort of pride. The kind of pride that makes her want to point to Hana in front of a crowd of twenty-plus nobles and announce, as loud as she can, "that's my girlfriend!!"

Penelope giggles so hard she almost snorts her drink out of her nose. "Go get your girl, Kiki."

Kiara stares at Penelope for a minute, then self-consciously runs her palms over her own outfit. "Am I that obvious?"

Penelope is still giggling. "Only right now, and only because I'm literally standing next to you."

Kiara laughs, relieved. This love she shares with Hana will still be her - their - secret. She wants it to stay that way, just a little bit longer.

The strains of the love song currently playing feel a little out of place for this nightclub, but Kiara's feet are almost itching for a slow dance in someone's arms. Head over heels when toe to toe. This is the sound of my soul. By the way Hana is looking at her now - alone at the bar again - Kiara can tell she wants it too.

Penelope places a hand on Kiara's shoulder, taking her leave with a grin and a conspiratorial wink. "Zeke must be looking for me. Have fun, Kiki!" Clearly in a mood for generosity, she kisses Kiara on the cheek before she leaves.

(For a woman who has never slept with, well, anyone before, Hana seems to be quite adept in the art of seduction already. Kiara has to bite the inside of her cheek just to fight the urge to whisk her to her hotel room for the rest of the night)

When she reaches Hana's side, the other woman's gaze moves over her in the most leisurely pace known to man. Slow, sensual, soaked in knowing, promising more than just one dance.

The soles of Kiara's feet tingle just from imagining the possibilities. She knows what they're going to be doing at least an hour (Kiara's being generous - she probably might not even last that long) from now.

"Lady Hana," Kiara says, holding out her hand and inwardly laughing at her own playful formality, "I believe I owe you a dance."

Hana breaks character, laughing delightedly. "A dance would be a good start."

Hana rests her head on Kiara's shoulder, her face nestled close to her collarbone. Her face is nestled close enough to Kiara's collarbone that she could breathe in her perfume if she wanted; she can feel Hana's long, deep inhale reverberate through her own body as she does. As Kiara runs a hand down Hana's back, she begins to sigh in tandem to the music too, drunk on her love for this woman. Ah ah ah haa haa. I know this much is true.

Even with her eyes closed, Kiara can feel the lights - deep purple and sea green - dancing behind her eyelids. The feel of Hana's palm against hers. A whiff of Gucci Bloom that comes and goes - that Kiara registers, instinctively, as the presence of her best friend stealing another dance with her brother. Kiara sighs happily.

Tomorrow might be as hard to live through as yesterday was, as this morning was, as every morning has been since this tour began. But every once in a while, she's gifted with tiny miracles.

This evening - every bit of it - has been a tiny miracle. And if this tour has taught her anything, it's that the tiny miracles are often the most memorable ones.

Almost as if they can both sense a desire to come closer, Hana and Kiara tighten their arms around each other almost imperceptibly.

Kiara smiles, again. Tomorrow may be different. But today...today has been beautiful. Today has been perfect.

This night of miracles does seem to be in any hurry to leave, and she's going to embrace it with both hands.

--

References:

French 75 - a cocktail made from gin, champagne, lemon juice, and sugar. It is also called a 75 Cocktail, or in French simply a Soixante Quinze.

Learn more about Empress Gin gin French 75 here.

The song Hana and Kiara are dancing to at the end is "True" by Spandau Ballet.

A/N1: I hint at a scene that is not part of canon but that will eventually show up at this point of the story when I write it in Petals and Thornes (basically Hana and Olivia talking. I won't be talking about it here, but it will be a major scene from Hana's PoV at this point in the story).

A/N2: Often, when the fandom speaks about the Kiara and Penelope friendship, there tends to be a lot of sympathy for Penelope and criticism for Kiara. But when you take a closer look at canon, the opposite applies. The narrative tends to center this friendship on Penelope alone, with Kiara needing to constantly worry and protect her, and Penelope rarely ever showing the same regard or concern for Kiara. It's a grossly imbalanced friendship, and I did want some acknowledgement of that.

A big thank you to @thecapturedafrique for suggesting this title 😁😁

[oftw0tongues]

how does each muse fit into the lore ? if you're following my other blogs for this world-build (i'm insane), it might not be apparent how they all fit together because my thoughts and posts are never cohesive / always a jumbled mess. so ! here's a very basic breakdown until i get a carrd together.

meath was an expansive kingdom located south of the often frigid kingdom known as oriel; north east of the valley of the dragons; east of the ever-broadening loston empire. set along phantom bay and the black sea (it's island territory, a strategic militant base, not pictured) - it was a staple alliance in a trading network that well beyond the loston empire, it's ports serving as an import spot for continents across the black sea. while primarily known as an exporter of violence, given its occupied territories across continent to call upon for fighting forces, its lesser known export is the pearl eye ... a fish considered a delicacy primarily found in phantom bay.

his esteemed majesty, king goibniu naïlo and his fair lady queen, her majesty queen estelle naïlo from the loston empire, sat as the ruling monarchs of meath through the age of warfare after his majesty's father and older brother were killed during a distant conflict. together, they had five children ... the sixth of their status born of mistress (child taken as if of sole royal blood on the grounds that her mother be sent back to oriel): crown prince cahir, princess cadhla, princess aoibheann, princess deirdre, princess neila, and prince uillend. out of the six children, the only ones deemed unfit for throne on a hushed level were princess deirdre (the daughter of mistress) and prince uillend (who had been born "considerably frail", plagued with chronic pain and illness, often unable to join the fighting front. he was instead given the former kingdom of suidora ... a meath occupied territory above the loston empire where it was believed he would be relatively safe, healthy, and welcome amongst empire indebted to kingdom).

each child had their own role to play in the grand scheme of things. often married to noble houses to strengthen the oversight of occupied territories, there was never a particular race to the crown. given the comfortable and often free existence of the five children beyond crown prince, the notion of power-struggles seemed vastly unwelcome.

THE CROWN PRINCE, cahir naïlo ... considered the main character of sorts in this story. believed to be the sitting symbol of kingdom, a prince moonlighting as king for father dying. his petulance for combat and military prowess makes him a treasured ally and feared foe; many believe he has been blessed by war god in ways well beyond the simple favor of family, and that alone is why he was reincarnated within a time frame in which he could resume his position as rightful heir to throne. while he did not favor being a diplomat, historians had no qualms with recording him as a smooth-talking, charming prince. he was noted to be in an arranged marriage with the princess of oriel, and while there was no romantic love there, they were quite well-adjusted friends who " shared a sense of duty " to respected families regardless of personal feelings.

THE KING'S GUARD, eithne mournbow - a testament to the openness of kingdom ideals in a time when surrounding territories (beyond the matriarchal society of oriel) often frowned upon or banned women from knighthood; she followed in the footsteps of her own father, taking up the sword to defend the crown whenever and wherever she was called upon. with mouth and whit often sharp as blade, she would eventually come to be largely illustrated as a angelic figure over the guards who worked beneath her due to her tenacity and prowess in combat.

THE WAR HORSE, killian mournbow - the older brother of eithne and right hand of crown prince; killian came into what would be damn near sainthood from a young age. his memory of former life serving war god returned well before his hundred birthday, a vast rarity among elves, and it was believed that such was divine premonition of where he belonged. a well-armored figure often flanking crown prince, killian is meant to be both an additional blade and a religious voice of reason for decision making, those in his position meant to check royal family members and remind them that their loyalty to god and pantheon comes well before their loyalty to their own gain.

THE SON OF MOON, anluan liarie - the left hand of king and " courtier of the moon " (advisor to second prince). a champion from the loston empire, the brother to seer (someone blessed / cursed with visions of whats to come), and vastly loved son ... anluan was essentially given to meath as a good-will token with the rebirth of cahir some one hundred-odd years after the crown prince died liberating the region. he was a well-acclaimed swordsman and often the first to take challenge on the offhand chance that meath was invited to partake in tournaments (tournaments, as they were, were considered disgraceful to knights - however, it was in tenants of served god not to turn down a good fight). he would later be felled when struck through eye / helm by arrow, killing him instantly. by the time he was reincarnated, the kingdom was long gone.

THE SORCERESS, merla sastry - a war mage from oriel who sat once as a lady in waiting to princess ordella (cahir's wife), only to later serve as both an advisor to sole queen and matriarch over church of demise. an eerily beautiful woman who once brought about the downfall of kingdom due to the sitting prince's refusal to accept her hand in arranged marriage. her advisory to queen ended fifty years after the fall of meath, when queen was killed by her son who wished to take throne well before his time. when faced with the prospect of execution, merla simply scoffed at the new king. eventually, she leaves oriel and becomes the witch of the woods; a being described as a hideous hag who prayed upon weeping maidens and children, using their blood for potions and powers. it tends to keep unwanted visitors away.

THE CROW, brom dhalmiriy - a knight from oriel and servant of the goddess theone. taken as a young boy from a particularly cruel estate of lands conquered by oriel and meath, brom was essentially projected from stable boy to knight by a newly adoptive father who believed his use more fitting for blade despite being almost completely blind in one eye (he can see shifts in light and shadows, primarily). a fearsome fighter, he is said to bring swarms of crows with him, the extension of goddess who fed from the corpses of felled enemies to her cause. once a lover to killian, brom would end up leaving kingdom after queen was beheaded in throne room by son ... choosing instead to travel continent as an unaffiliated blade seeking to do only what satiates his war monger goddess.

[theinternetisaweboflies]

Jägermeister

Chapter Fourteen: No Kaiju

Dierdre had departed by the time they finished their discussion with the Secretary General, no doubt to assist her fellow security officers in their custodial transfer of the Buenakai. She had left the keys to the armored van with the officer who was waiting for K-techs to arrive and commence removal of the kaiju brain floating in a vat at the center of the bunker. 

Hermann had been trying to avoid looking at it directly so he wouldn’t give into the urge to ensure it could never be drifted with again.

Tendo drove them back to the Shatterdome, at a slightly more sedate pace than Dierdre. 

Upon arrival, and without discussion, they headed directly for Medical. 

Hermann took the lead, which only ever occurred when someone else intentionally slowed down enough to allow it. It certainly didn't occur often. Newton tried, bless him, but he always ended up hurrying ahead and having to double back. He never made it more than a few feet. Sometimes he seemed simply incapable of keeping still, or even slowing down. 

He had been so still after the seizure. 

“Newt’s not here,” said the medic on duty. 

Hermann recognized him from their post-drift checkup. He was the one who had applied the topical anesthetic to Newton’s eyeball. Hermann was normally better with names than Newton, but that sight had caused his nausea to flare up again, so the medic’s name would have escaped him if not for the badge.  

“I thought he was missing,” said Eddie. “Did they find him? Is he okay? If he’s okay, tell him he was right about my gecko. She was pregnant! I’m naming all the hatchlings after him. It might be a little confusing, but I thought he would like it.”

Of course, names were the only part of other people that Hermann was better with than Newton.

When Newton wasn't waxing poetic about kaiju to someone whose family had been slaughtered by them, he could be quite personable. Charming, even. 

Hermann prayed to a god he hadn't believed in since third form that whenever he was, Newton was being cared for. 

He had sensed very little through their drift since Newton was saved, apart from a feeling that he could only describe as dissociation. 

“He will love it,” said Mako-chan. “We will be sure to tell him.”

As a single unit, they left Medical and turned towards the Secretary General’s office. 

For the duration of his visit to the Hong Kong Shatterdome, Secretary Krieger had borrowed the office nearest LOCCENT— the one previously occupied by Marshal Pentecost. 

A pair of security officers stood to attention outside the door, but it was not Tweedledumb and Twerdledumber. 

It was Dierdre and Lou. 

There was a bandage peeking out from under Lou’s uniform sleeve. Hermann had heard that their wound debridement had gone well and would leave minimal scarring, but he hadn't heard that they were already back at work. 

Before he could speak, Deirdre rapped smartly on the door and called, “Marshal Hansen to see you, Mr. Secretary.”

“Let them in,” Secretary Krieger called back. 

Marshal Pentecost's office had always seemed an unusual choice to Hermann. Bunker 47B (Subdesignation 17-B-3) was close to LOCCENT, but it was also a former utility room that still had two massive basins of water running almost the entire length of it. Newton had fallen in twice. After that, the Marshal made a habit of coming to K-Science for his debriefs as well as Hermann's. 

The Secretary General gestured magnanimously to the two chairs in front of his desk. Hermann and Marshal Hansen took a seat, while Mako, Raleigh, and Tendo remained standing. Lou and Dierdre fell back to flank the Secretary General’s chair, as though he thought he might be physically attacked. 

Hermann was considering it. 

“What the hell is going on here?” asked Marshal Hansen. “Where’s Dr. Geiszler?”

“I had him taken somewhere more secure,” said the Secretary General. 

“Where?” hissed Hermann.

“That information is classified. Dr. Geizer has already been the victim of one abduction, and I don’t want to risk the same thing happening a second time. Besides, this environment is hardly conducive to his recovery.  He's unstable and needs to-”

“He has always been unstable!”

“You're not helping, brother,” whispered Tendo. 

“This is utterly preposterous!”

The Secretary General held up a placating hand. “I'm happy to answer any questions you have about his condition. I’ll be staying here for a while- Well, not staying here. This isn’t exactly the Four Seasons.” He laughed at his own joke. “I will be borrowing this office for a little longer though. I have a few meetings lined up with Representatives Taylor and Cole this week. Assuming you don’t mind me using your LOCCENT?”

Before Marshal Hansen could reply, the Secretary General stood and walked to the door. Lou and Dierdre continued to flank him, which was somewhat awkward in the small space. 

He opened the door. “I’m sure we’ll speak again soon.”

None of them moved. 

“What is this, Lou?” asked Hermann. 

“I'm sorry,” they said, “but we've all heard the scuttlebutt. The Secretary General has a plan to save the PPDC. We have to consider our futures.”

“The Security Office is under my command, Officer Sexsmith,” said Marshal Hansen. 

Lou winced but didn't respond. 

“Not for much longer,” said Secretary Krieger. “I’ve recommended a few small structural changes to the United Nations, and they’ve been most amenable to my suggestions.”

“We have families to support,” said Dierdre. “Lou’s old man just started dialysis.”

Hermann had never been particularly adept at reading body language, but Dierdre caught his eye and gave him a wink so exaggerated that even he cottoned on. 

“Of course,” said Hermann. “We all want what’s best for the PPDC and its employees. I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot, Secretary Krieger. Isn’t that so, Marshal? Here’s a thought: Why don't the two of you arrange a meeting to discuss this properly?”

“A meeting?” echoed the Secretary General.

Hermann smiled tightly. “An informal chat. After all, wouldn't it be better if we were all working together? An undivided front, as it were?”

“You have a point.” The Secretary looked at Hermann like he had just said something profound that had not, in fact, been pulled out of his arse. 

Marshal Hansen looked at him like he had just grown another head. 

Hermann turned his head, singular, so that it would not be visible to the Secretary General when he winked at Marshal Hansen. To his recollection, Herman had never winked before in his life, and would not have expected to start with a superior officer, but: desperate times and all that.

“You're right, Dr. Gottleib. We're all adults here. We can act like it. Secretary Krieger, would you be willing to discuss this further in my office at, say, 1300?”

“Make it 1400 in my office.” Secretary Krieger held out his hand, and Marshal Hansen shook it. 

Lou held out their good hand to Hermann. “No hard feelings, right?”

Hermann took their hand, feeling something light and dry in their palm before it was transferred to his own. He tucked the piece of paper into his pocket. 

“None at all, Lou.”

...

@lastdaysofwar

[guhamun]

@caemthe said (inbox):

[ dee, for cal ] Deirdre had yet to move her spot, arms crossed, waiting for the mercenary leader and Cú to finish talking. Her friend was the first one to approach her and let her know that they wanted her to take off her mask to see if any of the ghost hounds from the Lawless Zone recognized her. Well… that was to be expected, wasn’t it? It was no surprise that a near empty document that only said she hailed from the Lawless Zone wouldn’t sit right with the outriders. Maybe one of the mercs would be able to recognize her, confirm if she belonged to one of the dangerous gangs or not. That was understandable, but… “I was never without a mask when I went out,” she argued before a hand could reach out to take off her mask. Long white hair, dark clothes, a tacet mark on the forehead, a stern gaze, and an unfriendly disposition, a recognizable figure she had seen either from a distance or walking the same street as her and Naoise. In the Lawless Zone, who doesn’t know who the leader of the Ghost Hounds is? “You must’ve noticed it already. I’m not using my forte, but the frequencies coming from me are odd. The mask serves a purpose, it’s not there just to hide my identity.”

THERE HADN’T BEEN THE slightest bit of surprise when Jiyan called him, asking if the Ghost Hounds would assist in identifying two strangers who had been held in custody from the New Federation. Such had made him raise a brow before, curious as to what it was about these visitors that had caught the general’s gaze, but he trusted the other’s judgement, and so saw no reason to question what was asked of him and his people. As he had spoken to Cu, there could be no doubt that he was definitely not a normal individual. They answered all his questions without pause, almost as if they were trying to be as helpful as possible, so that they, and their friend, could take their leave in relative peace. Normally this would capture his attention and make him suspicious, not so much this time. Information was withheld – that much was obvious to someone as sharp as Calcharo, but he doubted it was anything that needed to be addressed then and there. Cu could keep to his secrets, for as long as it did not put the people of Huanglong in the crosshairs of any potential danger.

     Finishing his conversation with Cu, he didn’t state whether or not they were good to go as he made his way past them towards their other partner: the odd masked woman. Coming to a stop in front of her, the Ghost Hound who had nearly reached out to take her mask made a face, glancing over to Calcharo and explaining the situation. Wearing such things was not abnormal where they were from, this, especially so, if you lived in the Lawless Zone. Thus, her statement about wearing it on a regular when she left her residence was in itself, not unheard of. Her eyes soon fell upon him, Calcharo peering back into the holes of her mask with quiet curiosity. He had a feeling that even if her face had been uncovered, it would have been difficult to discern intent just as much as it was now. ❝Yes, I’ve noticed. It’s for that reason I didn’t have your mask removed by force.❞ Something, an instinctual part of himself, said it would be unwise to remove that mask.

     He’d leave it be.

     There was a moment of silence, his gaze still boring into Deirdre’s before he turned away, beginning to put distance between him and the group. ❝They’re good to go. I’ll let the general know there is no reason to hold these two any longer. Their intentions for being here are valid.❞ After approval to release them was received, he’d leave those two to their business -- whatever that business might be. Although, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t issue a warning all the same…

     That could wait.

[nikethestatue]

Hi , I saw your previous post and I'm wondering if you exactly tell us why Gwyn and Azriel don't work as a ship?

I think it's an extremely broad question, with many possible answers.

Personally, for me, and it's been true from day one, from when I first heard of this thing called Gwynriel, is the ethics of it.

As I said in my previous answer, I don't condone the thought of someone like Azriel, a trusted, much older, very experienced, very suave member of Rhys's Court and Inner Circle, and Cassian's personal invitee and guarantee, getting inside a sanctuary which was created specifically for traumatized, often raped and severely abused women--created by Rhys and Mor, kind of in response to Mor's own trauma--a place which Cassian himself said Azriel's mother might have benefited from, having been essentially enslaved and raped and separated from her child, a place where Rhys spent time himself after being sexually assaulted for 50 years, and where Nesta worked (purposefully sent there, so she could feel safe and be allowed time to heal), and going after a Priestess who was placed there because of her own severe emotional and sexual trauma (not to mention the trauma that he himself witnessed).

He was TRUSTED to be there. To care for these women in a specific way, by teaching them how to fight back. He was trusted by his High Lord, by Cassian, by Clotho, even by Nesta. He is trusted to be always aware of these women's feelings and emotional well-being and what they'd gone through, to be cautious with unnecessary touch, with how he addresses them 1:1, even in front of witnesses.

Honestly, it's unthinkable to me that this man would try to get with a resident of the Library. Because he what? taught her some moves?

And btw, this has nothing to do with Gwyn herself. Her readiness, her lack of readiness, interest or disinterest play no role in this.

The responsibility here lies with Azriel.

The burden is on Azriel.

It might be okay in 500 years. But right now, it's not acceptable in any conceivable way. That it could EVER be okay for him to insert himself in any romantic or sexual way into this situation, with one of the priestesses.

We know from ACOSF that the priestesses that he trained directly definitely found him quite appealing, and mooned over him and sighed when he passed. But NO ONE here would ever say that it's okay for him to go after Deirdre or Ananke or Ilana just because they batted their lashes at him. Something, btw, that Gwyn never even did herself. If he suddenly started to put the moved on any of them, we'd all collectively shudder and be like, WTF?

Gwyn is in exactly the same situation.

It's unethical and inappropriate in every possible way. It just is.

[ivyprism]

Some More Gods (Info Dump)

Warning: Fighting, violence, justice, gods, etc.

Danera - Goddess of Fortune (She/they)

Personality: A frivolous yet confident woman. They find enjoyment in many things and have a strained relationship with Deirdre. She frequently has good fortune and effectively balances Deirdre. She finds people amusing. She enjoys assisting the needy and does her best to discourage bad decisions with luck. She is nice and sweet, but comes across as distant and frigid. She's always up for a battle and rarely considers the luck of the person in front of her; she's simply lucky than them. She likes to dance. Surprisingly, she is a bright and cheery individual. She enjoys reading as much as knitting.

Appearance: She has pink hair and purple eyes. Her other, monster form, is a bird monster (reminiscent of a hawk). She wears an eyepatch as she has a large scar on her right eye. She is 5'5".

(Picrew: https://picrew.me/share?cd=ELPAGf3Dxb)

Aris - The Deity of Harvest (He/they)

Personality: They are recognized for his kindness, as well as their relentless cruelty to those who deserve it. Farmers and others regard them as a rescuer who will bless their harvest if they give gifts. He is a really caring and understanding person. Despite this, they do not accept treachery on his knees. They love to help people, and the animals appear to enjoy him. They frequently labor in fields and assist Iyla with the upkeep of her gardens when she is ill or otherwise engaged. They fulfill a single goal for the planet by allowing abundant crops.

Appearance: They are a nine-tailed fox. He is about 6'0". They have three scars on their left eye. He is a shapeshifter.

(Picrew Link: https://picrew.me/share?cd=SdYD5rdJP7)

Ylios - The God of Law

Personality: He is an extremely stern man. When it comes to what is right and wrong, he is unwavering. He is Tyr's younger brother. He heeds his brother's advice and works tirelessly to ensure that laws are enforced fairly. He chooses the judges alongside his siblings. He is a fascinating man with a rather frigid disposition; nonetheless, he has a kind heart and a soft spot for his niece. He works hard and never hesitates to do what is right. He sees beauty in many things and works hard to modify legislation to reflect new standards and justice practices.

Appearance: His true form is a skeleton monster. He has golden eyes. He has a scar on his right eye. In human form, he has red hair and golden eyes.

(Picrew Link: https://picrew.me/share?cd=SdYD5rdJP7)

Colraura - The Goddess of Law

Personality: A powerful and ruthless force of nature. She doesn't give up and goes for the throat. She is tough and very hard with the law. She is, however, much gentler than Ylios or Tyr. She considers a wide range of factors before reaching a decision. She is usually patient, and her temper is really saintlike. Overall, she does not back down from a task and frequently finds amicable ways to overcome conflicts. She is cautious and guarded when confronted with direct threats. She is very well respected and regarded as equal to her brothers.

Appearance: Her true form is a skeleton monster. She has golden eyes. She has two scars on her left eye. In human form, she has red hair and golden eyes.

(Picrew: https://picrew.me/share?cd=ELPAGf3Dxb)

--------

[fake-fire-emblem-takes]

The events leading up to and after the timeskip in FE4 are brutal... first Prince Kurth gets stabbed right in front of Deirdre, then it turns out Arvis is the Flame Emperor, then he attacks the Belhalla Academy while everyone's still there, King Azmur transforms into a dragon (because apparently he could do that) and Deirdre gets blasted into a pit by Manfroy, and then she wakes up five years later to find Sigurd's gone feral because he got really depressed and then Hilda staged a coup to take over Chalphy and Arden sacrificed himself so Sigurd could escape his execution. But it was touching that everyone risked their lives to visit the ruins of the academy on the day they'd promised to. Also why do people say there's a second generation in this game? Only Awakening, Fates, and Three Houses have a second generation.

huh. Véjà du.

[haircheer]

cheer crisis averted (fluffy snippet)

steve x chrissy | fluffy snippet <1k | chrissy getting ready for cheer

“Steve!” Chrissy whines from his bathroom.

He rushes to the door, careful to knock at least half a dozen times to be safe. “You okay?”

Behind the door, there’s an exasperated sigh and shuffling sounds on the granite counter that Steve guesses is all her “getting ready” supplies she talked about earlier being scattered around.

“Just come in, I’m in cheer crisis mode!”

With a deep breath, he slowly swings open the paneled door to Chrissy already dressed in her uniform—emerald and yellow orange skirt and sweater— definitely ironed for crisp edges. The counter displays an array of scrunchies and various brushes that he can only assume are for the bins of makeup on the right side of the sink.

Chrissy turns from the mirror, her hands still tugging at the tight ponytail on top the crown of her head.

“What’s wrong, it looks like you have everything together?” He glances over her figure once more. “You look pretty—uh, for the game.”

With a vigorous shake of her head no, she grabs the rogue can of aerosol hairspray. “Look!”

She presses hard down on the nozzle, pointing the can over the sink as part of her demonstration. It sputters nothing, but a whistle of compressed air past the fancy curved faucet. Her eyes wrinkle in distress. “This is a disaster of cheerleader proportions. My hair needs to hold when I’m tossed up for stunts!”

Steve eyes the can again, thumbing his bottom lip in thought as he reads the label. His head hangs back with an attitude. “Do you really need it?”

She keeps pressing the button until not even air seeps out the little pinhole at the top. She groans, “Deirdre is gonna kill me for being unprepared again.”

The petite cheerleader starts to pace back and forth in front of the mirror, biting the edge of her nails. Steve steps in, blocking the permanent line she’s trying to carve into the tile in an attempt to calm her down. “Chriss, you gotta relax. I can..I actually can help.”

She nibbles at her last fingernail with wide eyes. Before she can ask, he leans down to the cabinet below the sink, pulling at the looped handle. He digs around the back for a moment until seemingly satisfied with his search.

A matching can to hers rests in his palm as he pops back up to her level. She snatches the can right from his hand without hesitation and raises the old can in the other hand in disbelief.

“Oh my God, you have my brand!”

She wastes no time unloading a full 30 seconds worth of spray over her hair, carefully touching up her flyaways and spending extra time around the dark green scrunchie holding it all together. With the final puff across her bangs, Chrissy shakes the can to make sure she didn’t use it all up.

Steve winces slightly at her, softening a bit when she smiles up at him with those big stormy eyes. “There’s still some left in here, you’ll have to thank your mom for me. But you saved my life, you have no idea!”

“It’s…uh, no big deal, really.” His hand scratches at the back of his head with a funny twist to his mouth. “It’s actually my–um– I use that spray on my hair, so use as much as you need.”

Chrissy’s proverbial jaw seems to drop to the floor. “Steve Harrington uses Farrah Fawcett spray?”  With a quick bite to her bottom lip to hide back a smirk, she glances back up to his hair. 

On her tiptoes, she starts to finger through his hair with glee. “It all makes sense now! Look at this volume! Can you do this to my hair for the team party?”

Steve can’t stop staring at her dimples, the simple joy in her smile as she teases him and teases through the curls of his hair. He playfully swats her hands away and points back to the mirror. “Oh come on, Miss Cheerleader, next time I’ll let you flounder without my rescue.”

“You could never— I know you well enough now.” Her happiness crinkles the corners of her eyes as she looks at him from the mirror’s reflection. She finishes the final touches to her lip gloss. And he leans into a sturdy stance with both hands gripping the side of his hip bones, but in his eyes, he looks at her just the way she wants him to. “You like to rescue people, you’re like Hawkins’ secret hero.”

Steve rolls his eyes, picking up the can with Farrah's face plastered on it as a distraction of something other than the way Chrissy's lips look so full right now as she pouts at him. He crosses his arms to lean against the door frame.

“Maybe I just like rescuing you, Blondie.”

[themonotonysyndrome]

I really see a moment where Cel and her daughter have a girls night. Just the two of them talking about what girls do during sleepovers, brushing and braiding each others hair, talking about boys, gossiping, doing skin care or each others make up, pillow fights, Cel telling a story and humming a lullaby till they both fall asleep.

I know they're both a little distant from one another but I do imagine this happening at one point in their life

Ah, but dear Anon, a typical girls' night won't be suitable for Celica and Deirdre.

Unlike the Baroness, Deirdre is a bit of a tomboy. She's passionately loud, loves a good scuffle in the training field, is very open with her emotions, and wants to experience life to the fullest without a care in the world.

So if Celica wants to organise a free day with her daughter, she would need to plan a compromise that both of them would enjoy.

My suggestion? Signing Deirdre into a local swordsmanship tournament and being her coach/supporter. She gets to help her daughter by scoping the competition. teach her how to uncover her opponent's weaknesses in mid-fight and make sure there's no foul play involved while cheering for her.

For Deirdre, well, she finally has her mother's undivided attention and realises that hey, Celica is actually pretty awesome despite her hardass attitude. Underneath all that, Deirdre finally realises that she's the fun parent. Not Castin, lol.

ALSO, CAN YOU IMAGINE HOW HILARIOUS THEIR MOTHER-DAUGHTER INTERACTIONS COULD BE?

In a tent, before the next round:

Celica: "Now darling, your next opponent has a weak right knee due to a childhood fall. Stabbing it would - "

Deirdre: "Muuuuuuum! I want to win the trophy fair and square. Besides, he's my school mate!"

Celica: "...So?"

Deirdre: "Mum!"

Celica: "Oh, alright. I shall leave it to you. I confess... I'm not sure how I'm meant to support you now."

Deirdre: "You can be my personal cheerleader, Mum! Watch how I'll win a victory for our Household!"

Celica: "That I can do. Hmm. In fact..."

When Deirdre steps into the ring, she's so delighted to see the servants and lady-in-waiting that Celica brought with her holding up signs and banners that are cheering her on. Celica is sitting like a proud queen right in front of them.

[sukimas]

Bouncing slightly off of the current dialogue @phantasyhalation is having, I think there are a couple of things that people seem to have misconceptions about WRT FE4's worldbuilding. One of these things is the status of women in regards to inheritance in Jugdral.

As we begin the game with no women in positions of power whatsoever and the prioritization of male over female children in the epilogue in terms of inheritance, one might argue that women in Jugdral are socially and legally barred from rule in the continent. This is a reasonable assumption to make; however, I argue that this is an artifact of Doylist narrative choices rather than a Watsonian prohibition on the concept in-universe.

You see, there are exactly two instances in the game where a woman is barred from rulership with no other explanation besides the fact that she is a woman, and only one of these is stated explicitly.

One of these is Altena; she's Quan's older child, the inheritor of major Njorun blood, and generally seems to fit the part of ruling a united Thracia fine. However, one could conceivably argue that her association with Travant makes her a less-than-ideal ruler for the purpose of uniting the nation, even though this is not spelled out explicitly as a reason for abdication.

The other is Deirdre- King Azmur states quite explicitly that Arvis's son is to be king, not a potential daughter. This is extremely difficult to pass off as a simple choice of words, or something related to Deirdre's circumstances (though she's an amnesiac teenager, her children would presumably be raised to understand what rulership was). However, I think it's instrumental to note that prior to Deirdre, all the Major Naga bearers in Jugdral were men- it's possible (though not likely) that Azmur thinks that Deirdre is an anomaly, and in general only men inherit the full breadth of Naga's power. Not that this wouldn't be misogyny, but it would be a different type.

Either way, you may be banging your fist against the window and shouting at me right about now. "Well, what about the epilogue? Why do only men inherit land there?"

Well, conveniently, in every single duo of children except for two (one of which has already been addressed), the male sibling is older. Therefore, if we go by absolute primogeniture rules, the male sibling would inherit the throne. This includes Seliph and Julia, for example; as seen in Agustria to dramatic effect, major holy blood does not preempt primogeniture. The only exception not already addressed is Lene and Coirpre; however, Lene does not know that she and Coirpre are siblings until the epilogue itself, and there would be issues with her inheriting a throne unrelated to her gender (namely, her former societal position.)

In fact, it's not even the case that no female children will inherit rulerships in Generation 2. It's easily demonstrated using a very popular pairing from this game- Tailtiu and Azelle. If the two marry, Arthur will inherit Velthomer, while Tine will inherit Friege. There is no mention of gender whatsoever upon Tine's inheritance, which one would expect if it was an ironclad rule in politics.

"All right," you say. "Gen 2 women can inherit thrones if no male heir is available. Fine. However, what about Gen 1 women? Specifically, the Yngvi twins? Why does Andrey have the dukedom of Yngvi at the end of gen 1?"

Well, at the beginning of gen 1, Duke Ring was still alive and ruling Yngvi. There's no strict indication that Edain or Andrey is the heir to the house at this point, but notably, Edain remains home to guard Yngvi while her father is fighting on the Isaachian front- just as Sigurd does while his own father, Duke Byron, did the same. It's generally a poor move to take one's heir along into battle with oneself- if you both die, then who takes over the house? With this in mind, it's quite odd that Andrey was allowed along to Isaach if he was said heir. (Of course, as for Brigid, she was quite occupied with piracy at the time.)

At the end of gen 1, both Edain and Brigid are part of Sigurd's army- he has been branded a traitor at this point, so it's quite easy for Andrey, after murdering Duke Ring, to say that they have functionally abandoned their rights to the throne.

The two of them having no right to the position of duchess would be an ESPECIALLY odd bit of worldbuilding, considering Jugdral's recent history. Their very house was founded and ruled by a woman less than 125 years ago! I cannot imagine that the continent backslid far enough, culturally, that Ullr's legacy would be forgotten that swiftly.

Fjalar and Njorun as well ruled their own kingdoms, though Njorun alongside her brother as a co-sovereign.

So, while misogyny is present in Jugdral in many ways, we only get one explicit statement that it's in the way of rulership for women. Everything else is an implication that could be explained by other means; while this says interesting things about the writing itself- making every woman younger or creating a plausible excuse for her not to rule is not exactly feminist- it doesn't allow us to come to a hard conclusion on what the potential for power is for female nobles of the continent. (That is to say, those who were born into noble families, not those who marry into them).

A final aside: The continent's past involves what is essentially the Roman Empire in Switzerland. With this in mind, one could come to the conclusion that Jugdral's pervasive misogyny is simply intending to mirror that in Roman society. However, I don't think this makes much sense; though the Roman Empire in the real world hated women professionally to a degree not seen before or since, the Empire in Jugdral doesn't have much reason to have the same social roles. Its warriors generally dominated the continent through magic, not physical might, due to the fact that prior to its rise Jugdral lacked magic entirely. Therefore, the idea of women generally being worse fighters in a society focused on war leading to their value in the eyes of said society being lowered (suspected cause for Rome's place in the argument) doesn't make much sense. In addition, as Emperors had to be selected based on their Holy Blood, rather than primogeniture et cetera, they needs must have been both men and women- unless you're of the opinion that being born with Major Loptous guarantees that you'll be a man, which is an interesting proposal. Also, they're a dragon; a member of a species where, as far as we can tell, gender has no meaning. All of them bearing the name Emperor is no different from Naga bearing the name King.

Thank you for reading to the end! Jugdral sucks to live in as a woman, especially as a commoner, but it doesn't suck in precisely the ways that it's assumed to.

[nagaficat]

Were it not for the hammering of her guilty heart, Ishtar might could convince herself that they are in the grand halls of Belhalla's castle again. She tries not to look too hard at the face of Julius' mother, lest Lady Deirdre recognize the shame in her own, but it proves a challenge not to behold a walking memory.

"It has been a long time since I have seen you somewhere like this," it's conversational, if a bit strained. She had to have been at least a head shorter back then, before there stopped being time for the warmth of parties like these. "You are just as radiant now as you were then."

Carefully--almost timidly-- Ishtar undoes a pearl from the string in her palm. She offers it then, feeling impossibly small despite the height that time has given her over the other. "Here. For you."

Too long she wants to agree but it does not feel right. It feels unfair to try to compare the few years she has been in Fódlan to the many it has been for Ishtar.

She smiles at the young woman in front of her. She does not know how to explain it but she is so grateful that she is here. There are very few tethers here to the life she lived in Belhalla but each of them are so important to her. She loves Lord Sigurd and gives thanks to any god who will listen as often as she can that he has returned to her life but she still holds the life she lived without him dearly in her heart.

"Ishtar," Deirdre reaches for the offered pearl and holds it gently in her hand before attaching it to her brooch. "I will treasure it always." She is reminded of the flowers and pebbles she had always encouraged the children to collect in her Belhalla gardens.

She takes Ishtar's hand and wraps both of hers around it as she folds a small bell in her palm. Her twins are not here and she knows this young woman could never take their place but, perhaps, they could ease each other's worries together.

"If there is anything I can do for you, you only need to ask. I'm so glad you are here with me."