#cavalier-life remembers how to write

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

FourRaccoonsInACoat Masterlist

Thanks for stopping by my masterlist, I am thrilled there are people who are interested in my writing! You may be asking, did I really create a logo for a nonexistent book series that only exists in the BG3 universe and features Malta the crime-fighting cat, all for the sake of a gag?

Yes. Yes I did. I will speak no more on the matter.

My fanfiction is centered around Baldur's Gate 3 and explores the romance between Astarion and the Dark Urge. The Durge MC in my works is based on my first BG3 Durge, a female half-drow warlock named Eli. I currently have one ongoing chapter fic, as well as a few one shots that all take place in the same universe.

I write fanfiction for myself as a way to decompress from life and because I enjoy sharing my stories with others. It legitimately makes my day when someone is entertained by my writing, so thank you for every comment, like, message and kudo. Much love and appreciation to you all!

Also, if you're here for BG3 Incorrect Quotes, follow that link for the masterlist.

____________________

AO3 Account - All of my works are crossposted to AO3.

Ongoing Work

Head Full of Ghosts:

Current Rating: M

Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Eli has spent a lot of time combing through her fractured psyche, trying to piece together any semblance of facts about who she was before she awoke on a mind flayer nautiloid. In all that self-reflection, she has concluded there are two things she is very good at. Killing people and drinking.

Neither of which is proving very useful as she tries to navigate interpersonal pitfalls after being appointed leader of a ragtag group of maladjusted misfits who are trying to source a cure for the illithid tadpoles in their heads. As if that isn't problematic enough, she's also having to contend with the growing affections between herself and the group's resident vampire spawn, Astarion.

Between fanatic cultists, goblin raids, murderous urges and cryptic memory loss, Eli figures a relationship is the last thing she ought to get herself wrapped up in. And from what she's seen of Astarion, the cavalier rogue seems to have his own breeds of specters haunting his steps.

Neither one of them has any business mucking about with romance. But, neither one of them is particularly good at staying away from things that entice.

____________________

One Shots

In chronological order:

Fall for Me ---> Faint of Heart ---> Midnight Prayer

Fall for Me

Rating: E NSFW18+

Astarion wakes from a nightmare and goes to Eli, seeking reassurance as he struggles with the denial of his feelings. The last thing he wants to do is give someone else control over him, not after he’s so recently regained a taste of freedom. Over the past 200 years, every relationship Astarion was involved in had been nothing more than a means to an end, with Astarion either playing the role of manipulator or the one being manipulated. Attachments were leverage, giving someone a hook they were able to dig their claws into in order to gain ground. Isolating himself from connecting with others was how he had survived.

This, however…this was different. 

Rating: M

Faint of Heart

Somewhere along the way, more and more truth has begun to slip into the words Astarion has been using to charm Eli into his bed. He's not sure when it started, but sometime between their passionate nights and hard fought days, genuine feelings began to stir.

It all comes to a head after the crew stages a prison break out of Moonrise Towers. Now, during a rare evening of respite, Astarion is determined to make a confession, regardless of his fears over the fallout.

Rating: M

Midnight Prayer

Neither Eli nor Astarion knows what they're doing when it comes to romance. Their combined histories with healthy relationships adds up to an unsurprising total of zero. Astarion once admitted to Eli that he couldn’t remember ever bedding the same person twice. And Eli…well, she can't remember anything, frankly. Her memories of past lovers are nonexistent…at least…

At least until today. Today, when they’d finally met the infamous Enver Gortash.

[emblemxeno]

Oh good. Your ask box is finally open. I've been preparing this so you'd have something fun to return to

Ahem

You know how everyone likes to compare Ivy and Hortensia to Camilla and Elise? I started thinking of how the other Engage royals could relate to the Fates royals

After careful thought, I think Ivy is actually the Xander of the game. Despite being a magic wyvern, Ivy's desire to reform Elusia is much more similar to Xander's desire to reform Nohr. Plus, despite appearing strong and collected, they're both massive dorks

Hortensia is still the Elise as they're both kindhearted healers with charming personalities

I'd say Timerra's the actual Camilla. Both are the most outwardly friendly of the elder royals and are overly doting towards their family and friends. Ivy's caring, but not affectionate in the same way

Fogado is definitely the Leo. They're both strategic cavaliers who are more willing to commit underhanded tactics than the others. The main difference is that Leo's outwardly cold, but secretly softhearted, while Fogado is outwardly cheerful and secretly deadly

Diamant is obviously the Ryoma as the usually serious crown prince who has a hearty laugh and is adamantly following their father's footsteps

Alfred is the Hinoka. Alfred wants to be remembered for being the reliable warrior prince. Hinoka wants to protect everyone by being strong enough to shoulder the burden alone. Both ultimately want to be pillars of strength their armies can depend on

Alcryst and Céline are a bit more complicated

Alcryst and Takumi are both self-conscious archers who compare themselves unfavorably to their elder brother, but Alcryst and Sakura are both very anxious people who find their courage when their loved ones are threatened. Being shockingly bold when they need to be

Céline and Sakura are both gentle princesses who are pacifists by nature. The main difference being that Sakura is a healer who learns to fight and Céline is a fighter who learns to heal. On the other hand, Céline and Takumi are both shrewd warriors who are merciless on the battlefield. Yes, Céline is both a pacifist and a warrior. She wants to just be a pacifist so bad, but life is cruel and is forcing her to be the violent one. This poor girl

So, these are my comparisons between the Engage and Fates royals

Great write up!

What I really appreciate is how you pointed out similarities and differences between all the sibs.

Like, I'd also posit that Xander split into three characters, with Ivy's resolution and complex relationship with her father, Diamant's station as crown prince of a nation he's at odds with in terms of policy, and Alfred being a blonde knightly cavalier prince.

Alcryst and Fogado being like the younger Fates brothers as well as pulling from the sisters (Sakura's meekness and Elise's woes over peace and warfare)

I never considered the Hinoka and Alfred connection! Having singular goals that were originally at odds with their stations as a way to cope with something difficult is another way they're similar too.

Thanks for sending this in!

[ot3]

Ok, now after all that Phoenix dad asks, i can't help but share my own unnecessary opinion. I feel like the rapport between Beanix and Trucy is too good for him to be a shitty parent, but the game strongly implies he has alcohol problem. Like no matter how I squint at the source material Beanix is alcoholic. And it's really hard to imagine him being a great dad if he' s spending their meager funds on "grape juice". ( Although with his life at this period I would really wish that at least he did the parenting gig right)

oh man i have been getting a lot of asks on this subject over the past coupe days and mostly avoided answering them because i just sort of more or less said my piece on the matter and didn't want to keep dragging out the same points but this take. is a really insidious one imo. and i feel like you've unwittingly touched on The Elephant In The Room regarding this entire discussion.

I don't think you really meant any harm by this and i hesitate to ascribe any real-world politics to people based on how they interact with fiction, but it's really difficult to see people talk about addiction in fiction this way and imagine they would have more sympathy for real addicts.

Someone being an addict does not de facto make them a bad parent. Someone being poor does not de facto make them a bad parent. I would also argue that someone being too poor to fully provide for their children doesn't de facto make them a bad parent either, because poverty - especially child poverty - is a structural problem and not an individual one.

But I digress, that's not really relevant, because there's absolutely nothing in ace attorney 4 that suggests that the wright's financial problems are caused by phoenix's drinking! Nor is there anything that suggests his drinking has caused him to in any way mistreat Trucy. Anything we see that could be loosely interpreted as neglectful parenting, such as bringing Trucy to poker games or leaving for long stretches to work on the jurist system, can be linked to their financial situation. And you're immediately correlating between the financial stuff and the addiction. Not illogically, but what you have to remember is that alcoholism is often a symptom of poverty, rather than the other way around.

Addiction is obviously very bad even if its not at the point where it's causing your entire life to fall apart! But phoenix is clearly functional and competent during the events of aa4, so i think to act like struggling with addiction is in and of itself enough to negate all of the good parenting he does is just suuuper shitty.

There's really a lot of bizarre distaste for anything resembling Addiction and Poverty amongst ace attorney fans, I've seen really nasty sentiment from people wrt aa4 that, once you cut through what they're actually saying, boils down to 'implying phoenix could ever be an alcoholic made him a fundamentally less good/less likeable character' and man. i just think that really sucks.

especially considering the fact that shu takumi has been pretty open about the fact that 1. he writes phoenix with a lot of Himself in there and 2. he's had, to say the least, a somewhat involved relationship with alcohol. He talks about drinking through work extensively in a pretty cavalier way. I don't expect everyone to know these details but i think anyone who has ever laughed about how shu takumi wrote most of JFA drunk needs to stop and wonder why they think making phoenix an alcoholic crosses some sort of moral line. Along those lines, I also feel similarly uncomfortable when people try to insist non stop that 'its just grape juice, there's no way it was supposed to be implying anything, it's just a joke.' it just feels super disrespectful to try and ignore the narrative implications here coming from a creator who has struggled with alcohol because you think it somehow taints the wholesomeness of a character he based off of himself.

i would urge you and everyone else who has had similar thoughts to please just sort of take a moment and re-asses the opinions you have on this subject and see if you're not just voicing some pretty harmful kneejerk responses to seeing alcoholism depicted or alluded to in ways you're not really used to. Because this just is not the take in any way, shape, or form.

[leffee]

NO WAIT BECAUSE I WAS ACTUALLY TALKING ABOUT THIS WITH @hollowflight-propaganda

so we did some research (actually they did the research I just looked up how long skunks live in captivity) now let me give you a list from first to die to last to die :)

As pets hedgehogs live up to six years or more, I remember them saying the longest a hedgehog has lived is like.... ten years....?? I think, but even then I think that's a rare chance

Pepper.... yeah. Skunks live up to ten years in captivity, so she'd probably end up dead after Russell

Let's talk about Vinnie. Geckos live up to twenty years. BUT we don't know what kind of gecko Vinnie is except for him being green. Let's say he's a green day gecko, smaller ones live up to about a decade while bigger ones live up to twenty years, if he's a backyard gecko then he'd live to about seven years. So it all depends on what gecko he is basically (I still think he'd end up dying after Pepper though)

Mongooses live up to ten years in the wild, but they live up to seventeen human years in human care.

Zoe's dog breed - Cavalier King Charles Spaniel - live between nine and fourteen years. So while she has a chance to die before Pepper, it's probably unlikely. So... Zoe, Vinnie, and Sunil would maybe die at around the same span of time

Penny and Minka would be the last to die and they would live a long time. Pandas can live up to thirty years in human care, while spider monkeys (which I'm assuming is the kind if Minka is) she would live for up to forty years. Yeah, forty years. Minka would probably spend ten or more years missing her friends :)

Oh, I actually know all that. I searched for their assumed lifespans long long ago and then again quite recently when I was writing a fic about how it would be once they would all start dying :)

And yes, Minka is a spider monkey. Penny Ling is a giant panda btw and Vinnie, well, as you said we don't know, I always just kinda assumed he was a house gecko.

But man, the fact that Penny and Minka have such long lifespans compared to others just makes me so sad cause they have 2 to 3 times longer lifespans than everyone else.

Even if Sunil lived 17 years there is still such big difference between that and 30-40. Like, Penny and Minka would realistically have a brand new group of friends in their life and maybe even outlive them too while everyone else would be long gone.

[singlesomethinginstyle]

Day 5

What happens when you exit a life of confort and luxury and finally have to fend for yourself, all by yourself?

For many women who have been raised in relative comfort, this is like Rock Bottom. When you've hit rock bottom, there is no comfort zone anymore.

For many women, this is how they are cast out of their homes, families or social groups, if they fail to comply with the norm.

The idea being, to punish you.

To punish you for qanting to live life a certain way

To punish you for not complying

To punish you for not bending over n getting f$*$ed like they expect you to.

The reward for compliance against your betterment, from the system (your family, your community/clan, your village/caste, your social circles) is a life of comfort and relative luxury where you are rewarded with food, shelter, luxuries, socializing and inclusion, niceness/courtesy.

The punishment for standing up on your own or refusing to bend over, is to be cast out, often with very little money, power, sometimes personal belongings confiscated, your official paperwork hidden, and valuables withheld.

Negotiating your way out proves to be humiliating. Yet, don't shun this experience for it teaches you

- the true side of those who you thought you could count on

- your own inner resilience

- or even a degree of adventurous, cavalier detachment where you reject your luxuries in favour of standing up for youraelf with dignity.

Being cast out, rejected, socially ostracised, demeaned and bullied yet standing up for yourself is one of the finest tests of character strength you will face as an adult.

It is also the beginning of freedom.

So give yourself a pat on the back, pick up the pieces and get ready for the next stage of the battle - adapting to adverse circumstances.

Things wont be ideal.

You won't know where to go, and may call all those you hung out with or held dear, to help you. Some may accept to help, but others, especially if they belong to the same social grapevine, may reject you.

Even if you do take help, remember that their kindness has an Expiry date. There is only so long even the most patient of loved ones can endure helping you.

Keep your dependence short, while you look for a way to sustain yourself. It saves the relationship and won't strain your friend's patience.

Taking care of yourself at this stage requires two things.

1. Money

2. Food, shelter and clothing.(Roti-Kapda-Makan)

If you have never worked before, and have a smartphone, or access to a laptop or tablet, go and make a profile on freelancing sites like Fiverr or Freelancer or Upwork. Think of skills which can make you money - like the essay writing you did in school/college could become content writinf for someone. Make some work samples and a porrfolio, make a resume and send it out. Freelancing does not require you to be an adult.

Hopefully, you have a bank account of your own. If you don't, hurry up and get one. There are a lot of online banks like Fampay, Jupiter and Paytm where you simply need to put in your details, provide a Govt ID and set up an account. You can now start receiving payments for your work.

Another option, especially if you are a college student, is to work at a call center, asking for night shifts, which usually start in the evenings and go on till about 4 am.

These allow you to continue attending classes during the day. (Your folks may have cut off your college fees too. Remember to check the fee amount and start working for it right away, or write to your Unicersity Principal or Dean requesting a gap year).

Accumulate some money and find a hostel or a PG to move into. Remember not to milk your friends/relations' kindness when they allow you to stay with them. It is TEMPORARY.

The second part of your journey to independence requires you to take care of your food-shelter and clothing.

That means, adjusting to food that you arent used to, buying clothes locally off the street instead of in a mall or branded stores, and eating in small joints.

Moving into a hostel or a paying-guest accommodation, be it by yourself or sharing with a roommate, allows you to take care of food and shelter very cost-effectively.

Rooms can be found for anything between 5,000 to 15,000 rupees, with about a month's rent as a refundable deposit. And as long as you don't have expensive devices, sharing a room with someone is a nice economical option.

This is where your next test of character begins.

Endurance.

Suddenly the food tastes like crap.

Suddenly the water has a funny smell.

Your room may be damp, and the fan may not work.

You may be the choice of meal for enthusiastic mosquitoes.

Your roommate could be loud, or a slob, or in some cases maybe even a thief.

I don't think I need to spell this part out - keep your valuables under lock and key, or sell those said valuables for cheaper items and pocket the profit for future use.

Keep your clothes, valuables, paperwork and electronics ultra safe. Get a lockable trunk or a safe if need be.

Amd if you can, make friends with the other women around you.

You won't realise it now, but these women will become your first network, and an emotional support system that will last you a long time.

I am still in touch with some of the women I befriended while living in hostels, even though 10+ years have passed.

Cut down on the luxury and give gratitude for yoyr endurance, for the food, the shelter, the small joys and for those who gave you shelter, kindness and more at a time you needed it.

Be smart, be grateful.

Plan, plan, plan.

You will evolve, girl!

[treeofnonsense]

👉👈 how about campal 💛 or ❤️

I sort of combined them here ... and stretched them? Idk, but I think it works. Treads the line between romantic and platonic life partners as any good Campal should:

It probably said something about them that Camilla and Palamedes were always the closest when they were in danger. There were probably a good number of Sixth House academic papers characterizing just such a theoretical necromancer-cavalier dynamic as codependent, unhealthy, and ineffective – scratch that, Camilla knew those papers existed because she’d dug four of them out of storage so Palamedes could tear their methodologies apart with a red pen. Even he sometimes called their dynamic, “intrinsically unbalanced, despite how much I try to compensate – it’s simply the nature of the thing.” Camilla just called it doing her job.

All she thought of were moments. Stumbling out of Imaging and Response after a fight with a truly enormous bone construct, bleeding from a non-critical gash on her leg. Palamedes forcing her to lean on his shoulder despite him having the build of a praying mantis. “It’s just my right arm-” “My right arm more like, by God Cam!” The silent derision he threw at Silas Octakiseron after they witnessed the grisly reality of a soul tap. Camilla knew it was his own quiet promise, so she never asked him to do that to her. They did the calculations, but she didn’t argue with his conclusions.

Sometimes, when they were sharing a necromancer’s big bed at night, or trodding some forgotten corner of Canaan House for the umpteenth time, he would kiss her. Never on the lips, never for long, and never where anyone else could see. A grateful kiss to the forehead, a brush on the knuckles for a job well done, maybe a peck on the cheek if he was feeling very bold, or perhaps delirious from blood loss. Camilla might have called it chivalrous, if she was Dulcinea, which she wasn’t; and she never felt the need to return his affections. Her love was shown through constant vigilance, plates of cooked and carried food, and a wit she kept sharp and ready to challenge the Warden’s. She was in a position to love and serve at the same time, after all, but Palamedes needed a little more to feel he was showing love back, and she accepted that.

It wasn’t until he was gone that she realized she might miss those little touches. Nona blindsided her with one once, just being her sweet self, and after that she found the memory of them coming to her mind at odd intervals. Maybe that was why she was so distracted watching Nona in the ocean that she didn’t hear the three men pull up on motorbikes. Maybe that was how they surrounded her. In her old life Camilla would have accepted her error and taken her licks. But she had the Warden inside her head now too, and Nona to protect, so she cried out instead:

Warden, I need you.

His consciousness rushed forward and she expected to slip backwards into oblivion and write him a profuse apology later, once he’d cleaned up her mess. Instead, she felt their minds overlap and … it was them again. I need you too, Cam. I’m abysmal at hand-to-hand. It was them, loud and clear, him stirring up thanergy to protect them from bullets and Camilla fighting, puppetting her own body from a half-step behind. It was so them that she couldn’t remember the fight it was over so quickly, and they stood there waiting for Nona.

And she felt her hand twitch. And it was her hand but the Warden’s mouth, and he put it there and he kissed her, just like he used to. And Camilla felt something suspiciously like tears prickle in her eyes as he pressed the kissed hand to her forehead. Don’t cry, my dear Cam, you’re too good for that. She took the hand and kissed it again, lips on lip mark, and then Nona popped out of the water and he was gone.

She didn’t remember the drive back home, but that was from all the blood loss. Pyrrha cursed her out and fretted over her, because that was Pyrrha’s way of love. Camilla was sure she’d chastise Palamedes later, and that Palamedes would tear himself up about it. But for now, Camilla told the truth: “We were happy.”

[princesscolumbia]

Double Isekai - Chapter 7

I like this 'writing well in advance of public posting,' I should do more of it.

Summary:

Ranma & Nodoka start working on serious plans for the future

Preview below the cut:

"Oh, no way!" purred Nodoka in a deeper timbre than usual.

Ranma recognized that exclamation, it was often her 'default' in their previous life when they saw something that was both shockingly unbelievable and yet extremely welcome and so deserved the appropriate pronouncement. "What...?" she looked up and saw her mother staring fixedly at one of the display towers featuring sunglasses. She roved her eyes up and down the display, unsure of what her mother spotted at first until her eyes landed on a particular pair in the style of... "Yer kidding?!" she blurted out.

Nodoka reach over Ranma and, using her significantly longer reach, grabbed the pair of mirrored aviator shades off the display and held them out reverently. She grinned wistfully at her doubled reflection in the shades, then the grin turned a little wicked and she looked down at her daughter, "You know, I am a redhead."

Ranma gave her a flat look, "Yeah, but y'aint Maori."

Her mother sniffed at her primly, "We work with what we have." So declaring she turned the shades and gingerly lined them up, sliding them onto her face and hooking them over her ears. She turned to a mirror mounted nearby to see how they looked and, with a minor adjustment, grinned hugely, "Oh, yes!"

Ranma scowled, "You look like a tool!"

"I look badass is what I look like!"

"You look like a soccer mom who's watched too much Top Gun."

Nodoka smirked and, in her best (which was honestly pretty lousy) working-class New Zealander accent, said, "You're just jealous that I," she combed her fingers back through her hair with both hands, pinning the longer tresses behind her head, making her hairdo strongly resemble the close-cropped cut of a butch lesbian and lifting her arms into a pose that was not too dissimilar to what might be seen in a muscle magazine's pin-up pages, "Make this look good."

Ranma just stared at her, deadpan, for several beats before pulling a lip back and sneering and, in her best posh, upper-class New Zealander accent, said, "You look ridiculous, Griddle! I'm not jealous in the slightest! You haven't even got the musculature needed to wear those glasses let alone swing a zweihänder!"

"You couldn't even lift it, it'd be taller'n you by a mile." Nodoka replied with a cocky grin, continuing the use of the horrible accent.

"I certainly could lift it, and I wouldn't even need a fraction of my power to do it. Now take those off before you make an embarrassment of the Ninth House!"

"But, my miniature night-maiden, you're already an embarrassment of the Ninth House!"

"Not as much as that pathetic excuse for a weapon you insist on carrying around. You are, by far, the worst cavalier I've ever taken into the field."

"I'm the only cavlier you've taken into the field."

They kept their gazes locked, Nodoka's eyes covered in mirrored lenses and mouth cocked in a sassy smile while Ranma's eyes were hooded and glaring, and her mouth pursed in a disapproving mou. A heartbeat more passed before they both broke down in giggles.

"What accent was that?!" Blurted Nodoka in her normal speaking voice, laughter making her words slightly musical.

"You try doing a proper Kiwi accent in Japanese!" Ranma cackled.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" they turned to see the receptionist at her desk, "Your daughter can be seen now."

Nodoka hugged Ranma and gave her a kiss on the head, "Remember, don't let your father's toxic nonsense that he dropped on you for ten years get to you."

Ranma nudged her mother with a shoulder, "I know, this isn't pass-fail, I can't 'win' at eye test." Her tone was a bit 'teenage whiny,' but her smile was warm.

(Start from the beginning on AO3)

[dyed-red]

Happy WW! What do you think about Sam’s and Dean’s safe sex practices? Do they use condoms with each other? Do they *talk* about it? Have they ever been cavalier with strangers? What about Robo!Sam and Demon!Dean?

you sent this like 3 weeks ago, i started replying, got distracted by work, went to a conference, got covid, finished teaching for the term, and now we're back!

(sorry about the delay omg, and thank you for asking!! i love asks! i'm just distractable af with replying)

Happy Wincest Wednesday!

Okay I definitely had to think about this one and separate what i like to write or think is hot (no condoms, nothing between them and marking each other with cum) versus what i think actually suits their characters.

Starting with how they are with other people (because I don't headcanon them as especially monogamous in their relationship with each other, especially dean), I headcanon that they both have fairly careful safe sex practices -- once again, especially dean.

he wasn't entirely shocked by the idea that he might have a kid running around out there when he met Ben, so i think sometimes something slips (condoms aren't fool proof, and whatever he and lisa were up to sounded bendy and memorable so maaayyybe he was skipping the safety just a little, he was still pretty young when he would have had that memorable time with her, i think 19?). but i also think he's really damn careful because he knows that if he had a kid, that would consume his life in a huge way. family is everything to dean and given his lifestyle and the fact that sam's safety (or continued survival and humanity, at least) is typically his #1 priority, i imagine the thought of getting someone pregnant would terrify dean as much as he might also want that, on some level.

sam, i imagine, is incredibly practical about these things, which means careful safe sex and condom usage. at the same time, sam is undeniably kinky, and if we assume he has as big a dick as is typically headcanoned and at times implied (by jared and by that ridiculous dick joke of a promo with swords), i also think sam wouldn't really... like condoms. (i mean, does anyone?). getting the right size feels almost egotistical, and he might be really particular about ordering from a select brand or something. i also think he'd definitely get off on not using one, on being bare with his lover and finishing inside them and the fear/danger/possibility of that as well as him leaning into the possessive and territorial side of marking someone. sam is a jealous guy, even if it tries to paint himself as cool headed.

so - i think sam is practical but also... reckless. he's canonically got a blindspot for his own reckleness, because once he's decided something is a calculated risk, he's 110% in. driving the impala through the side of a house? check. turn into a zombie with dean to loophole dean's deal? check. sam dgaf, and i have to imagine he takes calculated risks with sex too.

so condoms are assumed, but with a long term partner (jess), once they're exclusive and she's on the pill (or patch or iud or whatever), he's seeing if condoms can exit the equation.

even more casually though, he's not hard to convince to just... skip it. the girl says she's clean and on the pill (or whichever)? sure, yes, great, no condom needed. maybe not for the more incidental of hookups, but he also prefers to get to know his partners, even his hookups, at least a little before sliding into bed with them, which i think would also lend him more confidence in what they're claiming about their birth control and sti status.

(he's also had the clap courtesy of that joke from Patrick the witch, if i remember the episode correctly, so like... there's that. tbh i headcanoon that both sam and dean have both had stis at least once, dean because condoms aren't 100% perfect in mitigating sti risk and he really enjoys hooking up, so it's just a numbers game. and sam because he's not as careful as he likes to think he is)

for demon!dean, he's using condoms. he does not want to have to deal with any of that shit. if demons can get pregnant and carry the antichrist (as per season 5), they can sure as shit get others pregnant, and that is a headache and a half. he might not bother when he's hooking up with crowley and twins or triplets and things are getting wild, because it's not like he can get an sti this way (the same way demons can't really get human injuries, right?), but i also tend to think dean is... not a germophobe, not actually, but there's a limit to what other people's body fluids he wants on or in him or wants to have to deal with in general, and condoms are just easier, including and especially when doing anal (regardless of the gender of his partner).

for soulless!sam... that man gives zero shits. you want him to wear one? cool. you're cool with him not wearing one? no likely issues or infections? great, condoms are a nuisance anyway. if you get pregnant he'll pay for the abortion. he doesn't need a brat walking around but he's not above shooting you if it becomes a headache. if you show up with a kid, he also might decide that's cool and he has a little mini me to train up, since having a hunting partner is preferable than not, especially if he can mould them into a useful tool.

now the most interesting part... what does that mean about their safe sex practices with each other?

(under a cut because this got long and ever so slightly filthy)

depending on how they start hooking up and the trajectory here, i can envision that when they get to the penetrative stuff (regardless of who tops and who bottoms), dean being confused and a little... affronted? that sam wants to do it without condoms?

"what do you mean you like it better that way? you're doing this with other people? you're skipping condoms? what the hell is wrong with you, did you learn nothing from the safe sex talk when you were 14?? that talk was 98% about no glove no love! where did i go wrong? aren't you worried about diseases? about kids? sam what the fuck?"

i jest but like... this is sending dean, a bit. sam is the responsible one, what the fuck is happening here. sam, unless he's pissed about dean being over the top, would just shrug and say condoms numb some of the sensation. poor dean is stuck between the reality of sam's stupid big dick and the perfect responsible sammy image he has in his mind cracking into a million pieces.

(not like he didn't know sam is a freak in bed but that's one thing and this is another. but well, sam has literally drank blood, what's a few other bodily fluids in the mix after that? but dean doesn't want to think about that. and sam reassures him that he gets tested regularly for stis when he's sexually active, regardless of whether he's using condoms or not, because he is diligent and responsible in his own way)

anyway, they come around on it, both willing to try it the other guy's way and accomodate. assuming they're both vers, which is my headcanon on their dynamic, they fall into a pattern where whoever bottoms essentially determines what safe sex practices are gonna be used that day.

when sam bottoms, except when things are quick or sleepy and he doesn't want to deal with any prior or post cleaning, he typically prefers when dean skips the condom because it turns him on when there's nothing between him and his brother, and dean gets into that as well and gets a bit kinky with it, with having all of his brother and leaving some of himself in sam's guts. sam eats his fibre and this doesn't present either of them much issue.

when dean bottoms, he generally makes sam glove up, but there are plenty of exceptions. one of the things he enjoys about it is that sam will go a little caveman and pull out to cum, pulling off the condom and cumming on dean's skin instead, whether that's on his back and ass and on his hole (dean doesn't mind, kind of likes when sam rubs it in there a little, with his dick or his fingers, but he's not about to admit that out loud), or whether it's all over his stomach, or if sam is in a Mood and he grabs dean by his short hair and cums on his face.

(which is another thing that turns dean on like whoa, but only when sam does it, he hates taking it on the face from anyone else. and it's half because of how sam looks when he does, and looks at dean, and there's so much heat and possessiveness in the action that it slides down dean's spine, the naked reality of just how much sam wants him, how he can't hold back or hold himself in check, how he wants devour dean just as assuredly as dean wants to devour him).

when sam is needy or jealous though, or when they have a bit of time, dean invites him in without a condom and and and - and he feels a little deranged and unhinged with sam all the way in there with nothing in the way, and it's really fucking good just skin on skin (better, he's willing to admit, even if it's not worth the added effort all the time), and sam invariably cums first when they do it that way and sometimes dean trips over that edge with him because sam hammers in so fast and deep when he does and because knowing sam is spilling inside of him scrambles something in his brain.

other times though, sam pulls out and goes down on dean and fingers his cum back in there and dean feels absolutely filthy and almost embarrassed and exposed and it's an entirely different kind of orgasm. almost always leading to cuddling that they don't discuss because things are a little raw when it plays out this way, for reasons neither can quite articulate.

[astriiformes]

What are some things you really like about the Locked Tomb? Amy specific characters, scenes, thematic motifs, memes? And (if you feel like it) why?

The answer to this is Many Things, which is one reason the series has taken up residence in my brain for good!

My favorite characters are probably Palamedes and Harrow; Pal because I love a good nerd who is also very kind and his whole qpr-flavored relationship with Camilla is so important to me, and Harrow because. Well. There are sure some reasons I have been really vibing with characters who are mentally ill disasters recently, and I think she's a particularly interesting and sympathetically written one. But I love so many other characters in the books too. One thing I really adore about the series is that it's got a 10/10 ensemble cast. Stories with really large casts of interesting characters are my favorite, and TLT has so many good ones. It's delightful.

....Which also ties into one of the other things I love about the books. I have. A lot of thoughts about what TLT has to say about relationships, and specifically that it does so in a way that really works for me as an aro person. The fact that the whole Lyctoral process (and its variants) reads like an exercise in "Hey, what if Drift Compatibility were way more fucked up" works so much better for me as a thesis on love than what many works of fiction have to say about it, and the idea that it can be both a positive/negative force, and that none of that is in any way restricted to one kind of human connection is. So much better and so much more interesting than what you usually see when fiction tries to say something about love and what it is and how it impacts us.

(Also, going to keep things kind of vague here, but for my friends who haven't read Nona yet you might want to skip over this next paragraph, just to be safe)

That was something I was already musing heavily on before NtN, and that I really liked about the series, because as early as the first book you have a lot of different things happening in the neromancer/cavalier relationships. But the most recent book really hit me in the gut with that. I remember I read an interview with the author that mentioned the "Life is too short and love is too long," line and I knew it was going to mess me up badly (although I didn't know if it was just a theme the book was going to dig into or an actual quote) because things of that, like, "better to have loved and lost" ilk really get to me. But I did have some ideas about what relationships it would be most relevant to, and I was VERY wrong, and when I hit the point in the book where it was actually said, I bawled my eyes out -- as expected, but also for totally different reasons than I'd been prepared for because that whole conversation is just. Not the kind of thing you get to see between characters with that kind of relationship, usually. I am still verklempt about it, honestly.

Anyways, 10/10 books series, I am so excited to see how it wraps up because I really feel like Tamsyn Muir is going to manage to stick the landing with these. Her writing style alone is such a delight and has given me a lot to turn around in my head, as someone who also likes telling stories that are both dark and funny and try to do some unconventional things. Not saying I am on her level but man was her writing style designed to cater to me specifically.

[fiction-box]

Heya! Would I be able to request something with Ferdinand? Like- maybe they’re having tea together or something but I don’t mind! Thank you!! I love your writing so much xx

It seems every time I resolve to be active, another aspect of my life pops up to surprise me. You have waited entirely too long, and I am now going on the journey of answering my inbox.

I decided to take the liberty of making a more exciting and rounded story as I wasn't too sure how to write something satisfactory about just tea. If that is what you want, just let me know and I can figure it out, but if you love my writing then I'm sure you'll love this too.

There is some choppiness in the plot here and there, but that is because I started to notice the work was growing a bit long and had to cut back in a few places. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Requests are open! The story will be continued under the cut.

The Black Eagle house had gone out to hunt the King of Wings, a beast holding precious material that Professor Byleth had been tracking for months on end. Petra had been the one to report it on a reconnaissance mission, and that was the end of it; everyone geared up and headed out. 

The only complication she had mentioned was a group of bandits residing in the cliffside town nearby.

But true to form, that wasn’t the only complication you faced.

Rolling over, dazed from receiving a blunt blow from behind, your vision cleared just enough to make out your attacker.

“...Edelgard…?”

In a split second of clarity, you saw the future emperor raise her axe above her head.

You rolled out of the way just before she could bring it down upon yours.

“What are you doing? I’m on your side, remember?” you made an effort to stand, adrenaline supplying what energy her attack took from you.

You took out your sword, backing away as you defended against her swings. For a few more moments, you lacked the vision and stability to dodge reliably. Then, the fuzzy, blurry picture morphed into something clear.

The woman before you looked exactly like the Edelgard you had known all your life. At least, she might appear to be, if it weren’t for her eyes.

Midnight blacks locked onto you as you weathered clash after clash, backing away.

“Help! Please, help! It’s Lady Edelgard!”

But as she cornered you at the cliff’s edge, it seemed no one was listening to you.

“Hubert! Ferdinand! Petra!”

Finally, your leader came to a halt. Her axe was outstretched toward you as you froze. There was nowhere left to step. 

The arm swung up. You knew what would come next.

~~~~~~~~~~

Caspar had been the one to call out to him from his horse.

“Ferdinand, what’s going on by the cliff?”

His lance impaled an enemy as he swung the body off his lance. Ferdinand hesitated a moment before skewering another ruffian. The Adrestian noble turned to Caspar.

“The cliff?”

The brawler nodded, pointing toward a small commotion.

“It is Lady Edelgard. She has cornered an enemy at the edge.”

“Is that all? It’s been a pretty tame fight from what I’ve seen, but her opponent hasn’t tried to land a single blow.”

“Hasn’t tried or hasn’t been able to? Lady Edelgard is quite the formidable opponent, you know-”

A series of shouts came from that direction. Ferdinand would have paid it no mind, were it not for his recognition of the voice.

Your voice.

Even across the fields of battle, he somehow knew you to be the one crying out.

Your name was said under his breath, as though Ferdinand had to speak the conflict into existence before he himself could believe it.

Redirecting his steed, Ferdinand raced to the cliffside. Caspar followed, though Ferdinand forgot soon enough. Caspar’s speed could not match that of a horse, anyway.

The closer he approached, the more of the scene he saw play out. Edelgard would swing in a wild rampage while the best you could do was stagger back and grip your sword in defense.

The cavalier dismounted his horse, swinging his legs off the side and jumping down to the grass. His own lance was held tightly in his right hand as he pushed his legs to move faster- to just get him to you.

You had finally been cornered, your heels at the edges of the rocks of the cliff. Edelgard raised her axe in the air, preparing to bring it down not upon you, but on the ground by the Goddess please no-

The two of you locked eyes.

“Ferdinand!”

“No!”

Loose dirt and rocks crumbled apart as the cliff was struck. Ferdinand slid forward on his stomach before you could fall too far downward, catching your arm with his torso hanging off the crumbling terrain.

Momentum shifted, and the orange-haired knight couldn’t piece together what was happening in time to react. You went from falling down to careening back toward him; your body crashing into the wall of rocks. More crumbling meant less leverage for Ferdinand as the debris falling out from under his chest knocked against his ribs and applied uncomfortable pressure on parts of his armor.

“Agh…” you groaned, “...Ferdinand-”

“It will be alrigh- ngh-!”

More rocks tumbled from underneath him to the land below, and his grip on your arm tightened.

“Is Lady Edelgard still attacking you?”

“...I…cannot turn my head to tell…” not without dropping you.

If he wasn’t dead yet, it was safe to say the situation with Lady Edelgard had changed. To what, he could only guess, but there were too many things on his mind at the moment to dwell upon it.

He was surprised at how calm you seemed. It was a near death experience- even now, Ferdinand was still unsure upon which side of the scale the two of you would fall- and he had read that some people might react with less panic than others. Nonetheless, his imagination scared him; to think that you weren’t regarding the situation with as much weight as he did…

Ferdinand was on the verge of losing someone he had hoped to spend his life with. And it would be too easy to drop you.

As if on cue, the beast they had been hunting let out a deafening roar from somewhere behind Ferdinand.

“Nngh- you have got to be-”

~~~~~~~~~~

“...fucking kidding me!“

Caspar continued his sprint to the cliff, alerting any other Black Eagles he ran into on the way of the situation at hand. By the time he had found Hubert earlier, the dark mage had apparently already resolved part of the issue.

Edelgard had been under a spell that had rendered her nothing more than a puppet. In killing the mage that cast the spell, the new Marquis Vestra freed Edelgard and removed the immediate threat from both your and Ferdinand’s conflict on the cliff.

Unfortunately, that didn’t guarantee she stayed conscious.

It all happened so quickly. Edelgard crumpled to the dirt, and for one heart-wrenching minute, Caspar thought she was falling with the debris. Luckily, her position remained on stable ground, but the same could not be said for you two. You had fallen out of sight, Ferdinand having nearly slid off the cliff as you did so.

Ferdinand hadn’t moved from that spot since, though the minute shifts of his shoulders told Caspar enough about what was going on.

The only thing keeping you from falling to your death was Ferdinand. Although Caspar couldn’t see it, he knew his friend needed help.

Orders came from Professor Byleth in the form of several curses.

Caspar’s professor turned away from the enemy lines to go toward Lady Edelgard. She was just a few paces ahead of him, the flat terrain beginning to form a hill. They passed Bernadetta on their way up; she had frozen in indecision, an onlooker clutching her bow, but there wasn’t any time to stop.

At the sound of a wretched screech, Caspar almost lost his footing. Air rushed past him as the crest beast they had come to kill soared overhead. It must have been attracted to the chaos that had brewed on the cliff.

“Caspar! Get to Ferdinand and help them off the edge! I’ll get Lady Edelgard down.”

“On it!”

The King of Wings passed the edge of the cliff, diving downward out of sight as Caspar reached Ferdinand.

“Hey, it’s Caspar! Don’t be alarmed; I’m going to help you up.”

“Agh…make it…quick…”

Before Ferdinand had finished talking, the blue-haired brawler had put his hands on the cavalier’s torso. Caspar dragged most of Ferdinand’s upper body back to safety, shifting around for a moment or two so that he could assist in lifting you back onto solid ground.

An interjection from you diverted his attention from his task.

“It’s coming back around! Get out of the way! It’s coming for the cliff!”

“I will not drop you now after keeping you alive this long!”

“If you keep holding on, we’ll both fall to our deaths!”

Sounds of movement from behind him registered in his ears.

“Move, Caspar!”

Without thinking, Caspar dropped to his knees and leaned to the right, using both his hands to support your arm as he heard Petra’s command.

In a second, she was at his side, kneeling next to him on the cliff with a bow he recognized as Bernadetta’s pulled taut. Her sights were clearly on the beast’s eye.

From the other side of Caspar, Ferdinand could not see anything going on.

“Petra, what are you doing? Get down from here, or all four of us will-”

“Shit! Shoot it now Petra!”

“Petra!” you begged, desperately trying to clamber onto the rocks.

Air whizzed by his ear as Petra let the arrow fly. You had shut your eyes to brace for an attack as he and Ferdinand tightened their grips on your arm, shifting their stances to gain as much ground as possible without causing a rock slide.

When the arrow struck true, the beast flailed backward. It floundered about in the air before falling, presumably to its death, but definitely out of sight of the party on the cliff.

“Yes!” Casper whooped.

You let out a breath of air from your spot hanging at the cliff’s side at the same time as Ferdinand. Then, the two men finally pulled you back to safety.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Th-thank you,” you breathed, lying out of breath on your back. The pain had been bearable while your life hung in the balance, but now that the adrenaline was wearing off, you were starting to feel the consequences of scraping your ribs against the cliff.

The heir of Duke Aegir stretched out his arm and looked over his chest plate from his seat on the ground next to you, “Please, there is…no need for that. You were in danger, and so I helped you.”

“Danger?” you balked, “Ferdinand, you just saved my life. That wasn’t just me risking a scratch or an infirmary trip; I could have-“

“I know,” he cut you off hastily. “…but I would rather not think about that. You are here now, and you will not be going anywhere if I can help it.”

Caspar stood next to you, choosing to calm his own breathing by placing his hands on his knees to rest a moment.

At least, he almost allowed himself to rest until he got a better look at you.

“Uh…Ferdinand?”

“What is it, Caspar?”

He pointed to your torso, “Should I go get Linhardt?”

Sure enough, when you looked down, blood had begun to stain your clothes. It pooled on your chest; there wasn’t enough of it yet to trickle down your side.

You supposed your chest had been feeling a little warm.

Ferdinand leapt to his feet, “I-Is that even a question?”

“You stay here with her, I’ll go find him!”

He left immediately, the noble cavalier rushing toward you in turn. A red cravat was removed and placed at your wound.

“Forgive me, but applying pressure is-“

“That’s for stopping blood,” any hope you had of getting out of this in good condition was slowly starting to wane. “You’re not going to save me from the consequences of a misplaced or broken…anything…like this.”

“I…” it looked like he was beginning to despair, too. “This is all I know how to do. But Linhardt will come, and he will heal you.”

Only, two minutes passed with no visit from Linhardt or Caspar.

“What is taking them so long?” Ferdinand asked himself.

“…yeah…I’m not feeling so great…I think…”

It was no lie. Your vision was deteriorating into bright colors with few details. A blink every so often would fight it, though that began to create the conflict of staying conscious.

“…stay here. I will be back as soon as I can. Do not fall asleep. Please.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“What is taking so long?”

He had arrived with his horse at the bottom of the mountain to find Linhardt, Caspar, and Hubert arguing.

“Hubert keeps saying Edelgard needs to be looked at first, but I saw the fight,” Caspar defended, “She only ever blocked attacks, but Edelgard actually managed to hit her. Plus she’s all bloody from the incident off the cliffside.”

“But her position is nowhere near important enough to grant her priority, injured though she may be. Lady Edelgard is far less expendable, and as such must be cared for first and foremost.”

“Are you serious, Hubert-?”

“Think of the bigger picture-“

“The bigger picture is that nobody will be saved if we stand here arguing,” Professor Byleth cut in. “Ferdinand came down from the hill for a reason; she obviously can’t wait any longer for help.”

He sighed in relief. Finally, someone using their common sense to do something about this.

“Linhardt specializes in physical injuries, so he should go see _______ first. Perhaps you would be the better candidate to look over Edelgard, Hubert, seeing how her affliction is mental.”

“Fine,” he relents a little too easily. Perhaps he is eager to get to business as well.

“Ferdinand, you take Linhardt up the hill and provide cover while he heals her. I will stay here and cover Hubert. Caspar, get back into the fray.”

“Understood.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Of course.”

“Got it!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Ah-!” you awoke with a start.

There were two people with you, leaning directly over you.

“My…I can’t…I…to breathe…”

“She’s confused- Hey, don’t let her squirm like that, she’ll hurt herself again!”

And so you were being held down.

“What is this? What’s happening to me?”

“Just take a few breaths and calm yourself. I have brought Linhardt back to help you.”

Linhardt.

Right, you knew these people. Ferdinand and Linhardt from the academy. You were hanging off a cliff until you got pulled back up. There was an injury, and everyone went to get you help.

“Is this a normal reaction?”

“Sometimes, after a traumatic experience, the body will put minor changes into effect as self defense. She’s had to do a lot of improvising and adapting to survive the events that followed Edelgard’s attack; it makes sense that her body would want to give her mind a break.”

“And is it…?”

Linhardt shook his head, “Temporary. She’ll be fine in a matter of minutes.”

The cleric stood up and stretched out, holding back a yawn.

“But…ah…physically, she should be just fine with a bit of rest. I’ve mended what I could, which should be all of it, though it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Thank you, Linhardt.”

“Why are you thanking me?” he frowned, making his way back down the hill on foot, “I’m going to check on Lady Edelgard now.”

You watched after him before realizing something, turning back to Ferdinand.

“Hey, shouldn’t we be heading down too? To fight?”

“No,” the Adrestian noble shook his head, “We won. Besides, you heard Linhardt. You need to rest.”

“Wait, we did?”

Catching sight of the battlefield, there wasn’t much movement left. Edelgard had returned to consciousness, Byleth and Hubert at her side. Petra and Bernadetta were deep in conversation as Dorothea looked out at the damage with Manuela. Caspar was on his way to intercept Linhardt before bringing him over to the future Emperor.

Well then, perhaps your nap had lasted a little longer than you thought.

“Come. Let us join the others.”

Extending his hand out to you, you accepted Ferdinand’s help off the ground and tried to get up.

“Woah, easy!” he caught you, “Perhaps you need a bit more time to adjust to whatever Linhardt did.”

Indeed, you were dizzy and weak. It felt like Linhardt must have pulled the strength to heal your torso from the other parts of your body.

The cavalier picked you up and carried you to his horse, placing you side saddle before mounting the steed himself. You were in front of him, his arms around you as he gripped the reins.

“There. This way, you will not fall off if anything strange happens, and you will not need to exert yourself by walking down to the others.”

“Thank you,” you smiled, suddenly a bit sheepish. But this was important.

“It is nothing at all.”

“No. I mean, not just for this,” you started. “You found me when I was in trouble, caught me before I fell to my death, held on even when it endangered your own life, stayed with me when I couldn’t defend myself, found help for me when none was coming…”

“Oh,” he replied, at a loss for words. “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose it does sound like a lot.”

“It is! Don’t even try to diminish it!” your eyes met his. “I owe you my gratitude after this, let alone my life.”

He shook his head with an uncharacteristic scoff, “You do not owe me anything. I chose to help you because…I…erm…”

The man turned his head, blushing a bit and suddenly avoiding eye contact.

In an attempt to make things less awkward, you looked away too, choosing to face forward.

“If I don’t owe you anything, then there doesn’t have to be a reason. Just…thank you. For caring about me.”

“Always.”

[nirikeehan]

Happy Friday Niri! For Thalia & Metrion, ❝ i’m sick and tired of being called ‘mortal’ like, you don’t know that. neither do i. i have never died even ONCE. nothing has been proven yet. stop making assumptions. it’s rude. ❞ from the Incorrect quotes list (look I haven't heard the podcast yet but based on what you've said in chat... I'm sure it's fine.)

HI KIA thank you for indulging me, this gave me a chance to write them actually meeting.

who's the one who's reckless and cavalier when it comes to self-preservation?!? spoilers, it's not Metrion

This scene is meant to follow this, look at me doing something in order for once

For @dadrunkwriting

WC: 2254

---

She wakes on the side of a muddy dirt road, inlaid with old wagon tracks and footprints. It is raining lightly; she is muddy and cold all over.

Thalia stands, shaky, wrapping her cloak around herself. Her neck throbs. She presses a hand there and her palm comes away with flecks of drying blood. What happened? Where’s her retinue?

If there’s one thing Taliesen and Amaryllis imparted on her back in the village of Barovia, it’s that one should never travel the roads alone, nor by night. Thalia looks around, the dreading seeping into her bones. She is entirely by herself, with no sign of life nor civilization, and the road looks not familiar at all. It is difficult to tell the daylight remaining by eyeing the gloomy clouds, but she thinks she might have a few hours left if she is lucky. 

I have to get out of here. But how? The road stretches in one direction and another, and both look identical: lined with thick, foreboding woods. 

Thalia chews her lip and picks a direction at random: north, she thinks. Her boots squelch in the mud, the only sound to accompany her feverish thoughts. She remembers traveling from the village of Barovia: the gallows at the crossroads, the massive stone bridge over Tser Falls, her protectors growing evermore themselves as the unnerving atmosphere got to them. Blackwall folded in on himself, Hawke showed his usual bluster and bravado, and Pravin wanted nothing to do with the danger, especially once they turned onto the road for Castle Ravenloft. She recalls him standing before the carriage and its phantom horses, declaring it a trap.

Wait.

The carriage. 

Thalia’s hand flies again to her aching neck. She probes, gingerly, feeling for the confirmation: one puncture, then another, caked with blood. She shivers uncontrollably. 

We were going to meet Strahd. We wanted to know our enemy. 

Then what happened to the others, and why can’t she remember? 

She rounds a slope in the road, picking up her pace, inching toward panic. Should she call for them? Is there any hope that they might hear? Or could it be that she’s the fortunate one, and the others are—

A bush near the roadside rustles, and Thalia nearly screams. She grabs for her staff, realizes it is no longer strapped to her back, and pulls out the paring knife she keeps tucked in the back of her belt. She holds it out in front of her, feeling absurd. She scans the bush, which has stilled, and the surrounding woods, looking for signs of life. She fears a wolf will leap out at her, making good on all the distant howls she heard earlier in the day — if that indeed was the same day. 

Nothing. Thalia holds her breath, and listens. 

There. Rapid breathing, nearly panicked, coming from the bush. 

“Show yourself,” Thalia commands, with as much confidence as she can muster. 

Instead, a figure darts from the foliage, taking off at a run. Thalia sees a flash of a long coattail, a shock of black hair, one boot. Male, from the sound of his ragged breathing, and terrified. 

“Wait!” Thalia takes off after him.

She catches up with him swiftly, as he hugs the tree line, and tries to grab for him. “Stop, please, I don’t want to hurt—”

Her hand grasps his shoulder, and he whirls. There’s a dull gleam of metal and wood; he’s clutching a small hand crossbow close to his chest under the oversized coat. Her eyes widen and she tries to step away, but his trembling hand pulls the trigger. 

Thankfully, he’s a terrible shot. The crossbow bolt flies wide, nowhere near her. But even fools are dangerous when well armed. She stumbles backward onto the road, putting her hands up in surrender. 

The man’s expression hardens into a scowl, and he surges forward, brandishing the crossbow. “Who the fuck are you?”

He’s taller than her, slender, with tan skin and eyes a color she’s never seen before: a bright yellowish amber. His dark hair is greasy and mussed, poking out around a headband secured above his brow; a magenta sash is tied around his waist. He’s young, maybe her age, wearing studded leather armor and black gloves, a satchel slung over one shoulder. But it’s difficult to focus on these details with the crossbow he’s aimed at her chest. 

Heart pounding, she forces herself not to make any sudden moves. “M-my name is Thalia. Who are you?” 

He eyes her hard, almost as if trying to see through her. He ignores her question, straining to look over her shoulder. “Where are the others?”

“Others?” Is he a Vistani, perhaps? He might match the caricature, but his accent doesn’t sound Barovian.

He pushes past her, staring down the deserted road. “Caoimhe! Randi! Amity? Lil—”

“Is it wise to shout like that?” Thalia asks quietly. “I hear the roads can be quite dangerous.”

He rounds on her again, the crossbow still raised. “And what do you know about it, huh?”

“Not much,” Thalia admits. “I’ve only been here a couple of days.” 

This gives him pause. “Where are you from?”

“Ostwick, originally, though I’ve spent the better part of the last year in Ferelden and Orlais.”

His brow furrows; this clearly means nothing to him. “So, not Barovia?”

Thalia nods. “Not Barovia.” She hesitates. “Are you also from the outside?”

Something peculiar happens. His posture straightens; he raises his chin and lowers the crossbow. “Yes, how terribly rude of me. You’ve caught me off-guard, is all.” He gives her a sweeping bow, flashing a bright smile. “Metrion the Magnificent, at your service.”

Thalia blinks in surprise. His entire inflection is different — no. Even the accent has shifted, to something vaguely resembling her own. She regards him dubiously. “Are you some sort of— minstrel?”

“Magician,” he corrects her swiftly. “The performing sort, not the...” He pantomimes waving a wand with his free hand. “I was en route to Neverwinter for my next patronage when, alas, it seems I got a touch turned around and woke up in this ghastly place.” He eyes her closely. “But you just got here, implying you might know a way out, yes?” 

“I’m afraid not,” Thalia says. “My traveling companions and I were searching for Barovia, but once we entered the mists, it became impossible to leave.” 

His face falls a minute degree. “That’s too bad.”

“It is,” Thalia says, frowning. “Where did you say you were from again? Neverwinter?” 

“I was headed toward Neverwinter,” Metrion replies. “Leaving Waterdeep.”

A thread of suspicion tugs at her heart. “I’ve never heard of either.” 

He lets out a laugh that sounds a touch nervous at the end. “Well, I’ve never heard of Ostwick, Orlais, or the other place, so I guess we’re even.” He scans the road again. “Listen, Thalia, it might behoove us to walk and talk. You were correct about the roads being dangerous.”

Do I want to go anywhere with this person? There’s a lot he obviously isn’t telling her, and the slip into character is not lost on her. She has seen Pravin do it many a time before a performance, and Josephine for that matter. But perhaps he’s still good for intelligence. “Do you know where this road leads?”

“Back to Vallaki, with any luck.”

“Back? I’ve never been,” Thalia says, frowning. Or at least, that she could recall. They were planning to head there after scoping out Castle Ravenloft, to meet up with Warden-Commander Kallian and the others. Even so, she falls into step beside Metrion and they set off at a brisk pace. 

“Yes, well, it’s not much to write home about,” Metrion continues in that strange posh cadence. “But the inn is welcoming, and they’ve got lots of wine on tap, so I’m a happy man.” 

It’s becoming too much to bear. “Why are you talking like that?” 

“Like what?” He blinks at her, the picture of innocence. 

“Like you want to be upper class, but you’ve only heard what the accent is like by rough description,” Thalia says. 

He looks as though she just kicked his dog. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“You didn’t sound like that when you were holding a crossbow on me.”

“Didn’t I?” 

Thalia is growing impatient. “Who were those people you were calling for?” If he intends to lure her into a trap, she doesn’t plan to make it easy for him. 

“Just — some traveling companions. I seem to have got separated from them somehow.” 

She eyes him. He’s not wearing anything too obviously expensive, except maybe the studded armor. No indication that he’s recently left other travelers bereft of their valuables in a ditch. “What a coincidence. The same has happened to me.”

“Well, all roads seem to lead to Vallaki around here, so if you want a chance of finding them again, you’re headed in the right direction.” 

“Are we near the Old Svalich Road? That’s the last time I saw them.”

“This is the Old Svalich Road, love.” 

Thalia hesitates. “Then where’s Castle Ravenloft?” 

He tenses beside her. “To the east, on the other side of the valley.” The nervous laugh has returned. “Why would you want to go there?” 

On the other side of the valley? How could that be? Is he lying to her? “I was headed there with my own companions. We wanted to meet someone— the lord who rules these lands. Strahd Von Zarovich.” 

Metrion whirls on her. He raises the crossbow, the previous pleasantries gone. “You wanted to meet him? You wanted to meet Strahd?” 

Thalia puts her hands up. She was right; this man is dangerous, but perhaps not for the reasons she thought. “Yes,” she says, trying to stay calm. “We heard he was a vampire and a tyrant, and we wanted to learn the truth of it.” 

“And did you?” His hand is white-knuckling the crossbow, making it waver in the air. She notes that he’s dropped the posh voice; he sounds like he did before, like a peasant she might meet on the streets of Ostwick or across the Marches. 

“I— I don’t remember.” Thalia takes a breath. “Can you please put the crossbow down, Metrion?” 

He shakes his head violently. “What do you mean, you don’t remember? You just decided to walk up to Strahd’s castle and you fucking forgot?” 

Thalia searches her memory, but she feels as though she’s trying to recall a word that’s just on the tip of her tongue and won’t budge. “We were… near the gates to Vallaki… and we found a carriage…” Everything after that feels fleeting, like a dream.

“Fuck.” He’s backing up from her, as if she’s contagious. “Did you look into his eyes?” 

Did I? She strains to recall. She sees a flash of a man, impossibly tall, dark hair slicked back into a widow’s peak, and a ruby broach gleaming on the lapel of his fine tunic. “I…” Her neck throbs. 

Metrion takes another step backward. “Show me your throat.” 

Oh, Maker. “Metrion, this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Ain’t it, though? You go to meet him, with some sort of death wish apparently, and you can’t even remember what happened?” He gestures with the crossbow. “Show me.” 

“Fine.” Thalia grabs at her collar and pulls it down, angling her neck and wincing at the pain. “Are you happy now?”

Pure terror crosses Metrion’s face. “Oh, fuck. Oh shit, oh fuck…” His expression hardens again. “What are you, bloody stupid? You’re lucky he didn’t kill you!” 

Thalia sighs. Regardless of the persona this man has cooked up for his magic act, she can tell he’s no warrior. “Metrion, I know we’ve just met, but you have to believe me when I say a petty despot, even the sort who might be a vampire, is hardly the worst opponent I’ve faced in the last year.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” He readjusts the crossbow. “Walking around with a bite mark and no memory!” 

Thalia hesitates. He has a point. Her fingers trickle to the puncture wounds; she feels vaguely nauseous as she pokes at them. Why can’t I remember? What could Strahd have done to the rest of them? She squeezes her eyes shut and opens them again, but her brain won’t cooperate. 

Metrion is staring at her with wide eyes. “You don’t— love him now, or some shit?” 

She blinks. “What?” 

Metrion shakes his head, muttering something under his breath. “Nothing. Forget it. Just — do me a favor, and say, ‘Strahd is a horrible murderous monster.’” 

“I mean, I don’t know that.” Thalia is perplexed. “I just sort of assumed he’s pathetic and power-hungry like most of his ilk.”

Metrion glares. “Just do it.”

“Stop pointing that crossbow at me and I will!” 

He lowers the crossbow a minuscule amount. “And?” 

Thalia feels absurd humoring this, but she turns her gaze skyward and says, “‘Strahd is a horrible murderous monster.’ Clearly you’ve some strong feelings about him, don’t you?” 

Metrion only seems slightly less dismayed. “Look, love, some of us have encountered him and not been dumb enough to—”

His words die on his tongue. Three impossibly large wolves bound out of the tree line, teeth bared and snarling. It occurs to Thalia, much too late, that they have both acknowledged the danger on the roads, but their argument hasn’t exactly been hushed. 

“Fucking hell.” Metrion grabs her roughly by the shoulder and shoves her into the nearest shrub. “Get down!” 

[troubled-vessel]

Once I was a poet.

I remember.

The words came. The muse visited.

I wrote them down. Scribbled,

Rejoiced.

Blessed her name,

Belssed divinity and the Gift,

The blessing of life..

It pulsed in me.

Still it does,

Like an underground ley line.

Energy beneath the earth.

I believe--have faith--prayer--

That those who are sensitive and pass me by

Can feel its pulse.

Sense how it throbs within me.

How it leaves me breathless.

I imagine them left breathless too,

With the sense of it,

That faint awareness of what lays

Just beneath the surface.

But blind and divided by screens,

I know no one can see, or feel.

Once I was a poet,

Making the invisible palpable,

Catching snapshots of slippery subatomic particles,

Evidence of the un-capturable magic inside us all.

But other parts of me took over, and my pen has dried of ink,

My days dried of time,

And the words are hard to find.

I kneel before the Muse,

Gaze up at her face,

And I know she laughs, and says

"little one, it's all within you."

While her stone face is motionless above me.

Solomon said,

The words must bleed from the forehead.

I must sit, and try, and let them bleed.

And I am afraid, and already tired.

But rivers and mountains run within.

And no one can see them

Feel the grace of their waters and moss-covered stones,

Until my nib scratches the pages

With drops of my own blood.

I spent a year and more thinking,

'I need to find my voice again,'

But I think the truer truth is,

I need to be seen, not heard.

Make visible what is here,

Pulsing and fomenting within.

Invite you to glance,

And look more closely if curiosity piques.

I don't need to yell in your face,

Weep into the wind,

Whisper into the neverending, deaf - blind darkness.

I want the knowledge to rise within you:

the darkness is there,

And the whispers.

And the books heavy with philosophy.

The statues carves with artful profiles.

The stacks of swords.

The drops of inky blood.

The crash of waves mixed with the secret energies of the heart, made visible.

Temples on craggy cliffsides,

Graceful welcoming villas, and carefully tended gardens.

Laughing masters,

Gothic cavaliers.

Dirty imp-girls who will stab you as soon as anything,

But also trade a good book for a blowjob,

If the seller is a trusted friend.

There are ghosts,

And rocks who are palpably contented with the rush of stream-water overhead.

Spaceship cruise-ships,

And tulgey woods with curious ideas of propriety at the tea parties hosted secretly in their necks.

Kneeling, begging, lost exiles waiting for retrieval and recommunion, and suspicious and slippery beasts to guard them.

You can't see any of it,

Unless I fashion a window,

Dashing my skull open on the edge of the writing desk,

And holding up fragments of bone in freely-given offering.

Fragments of bone, breath and stone,

Shreds of words.

Poetry?

No, that urn is shattered on the floor. Those days are lost.

A monk will take a straw broom and sweep up the pieces.

You can hear the sound they make as I gather them into a pile.

There is no voice.

Just the tinkle of pottery and blood.

But....did I make you see it?

I pray it might be so.

[yalocalfanficaddict]

Solider Poet King

Just the first chapter of a lil' fic I'm writing! You can find it on my wattpad (YaLocalBookAddict) and AO3 (YaLocalFanFicAddict) accounts!

⚠Warning, this chapter's warnings consist of: vomiting⚠

The world Eijirou Kirishima knew and loved crumbled by morning. Or it could have been before then. If he would be honest, he couldn't remember. He could say it all started when he wished to stroll around the woods. Maybe it all started when he became lost. What if his life slowly deteriorated since he was young, and he wanted to become a knight like his father?

But by the end of this tale, Eijirou might be able to rebuild all of it. He might go down in history as the young man who fought with a god. He might have ballads written and sung about how he slain giants. And how he might find all the hidden secrets of this little world.

.

.

☆

.

.

Wildlife chittered in anticipation from the dark clouds looming overhead. Wind whispered with the leaves on the lanky tree canopy. Dried sticks and leaves crunched under cavalier boots. Eijirou whistled with the crickets while his mind wandered more than his legs. Hands tucked into his breacher's pockets, the whistling was cut off when a drop of rain landed on his cheek.

Not thinking much of it, Eijirou swiped the drop away and continued his late-night stroll. The smiling moon was his comforting guide, leading him deeper into the forest. Owls hooted in greeting, and he would return it with a small acknowledgment of his own. Eijirou did not want to upset the forest folk who lurked deep inside the woods.

"You better be able to take me back home even with all these clouds in the way, Ms. Moon," Eijirou chuckled. He took in the hazy grey from above, reciprocated the moon's grin, and shook his head. "What am I talking about? Of course, I'll be back because I got you and the fireflies to guide me home. Just because I followed the setting sun doesn't mean I needed to wait for them to return."

He stopped dead in his tracks with his palm outstretched before him. A noise of curiosity squeaked past his lips as raindrops began to pool in his cupped hand. Eijirou glanced up with a gasp when he realized the weather's swift turn for the worse. "Of things all mighty..." he frowned. "Of course, Zydite had to ruin the fun."

Jamming his hand back into his pocket, Eijirou spun on his heel and huffed a sigh. "It's like the god of weather has a grudge against me or something. I still remember when you ruined my birthday all those years ago, Zydite!" Eijirou scolded at the rain soaking his linen shirt.

His only answer was a more gradual and harsher rainfall.

Grumbling would get Eijirou nowhere, so he decided to find his way back home. As his meandering turned into a brisk and hurried walk, Eijirou must have made the wrong turn. Lanky and lush trees became more brittle and withered from age. Gnarled roots tripped Eijirou up from time to time. And he could've sworn he heard something giggle at him. Eventually, it became too much to bear. The rain blurred his vision, and the ground had become too muddy, almost losing a boot once or twice. His dark hair clumped along the frame of his face and the back of his neck.

Through squinting eyes, Kirishima watched a ball of light bobble through the dark. After observing the illumination, Eijirou noticed it was growing farther away from him. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out to the globe. "Hello?"

The bright sphere froze and turned towards him, faintly swaying. "Should I be the one who's scared to answer the voice hidden in the darkness? Or should you be the one who's scared of the intentions of the stranger?"

Eijirou paused to ponder his answer. He slipped away from the tree. He pushed his soaked bangs out of his face and tugged his sleeves, exposing part of his forearms. "I would think neither if both sides had no ill thoughts towards one another."

The cloaked figure with the lamp scoffed. "What a foolish thing to assume, boy."

Knowing he would never make it home by morning in the dark, Eijirou cleared his throat. "Are you going to an inn? Would you mind if I joined you? I got a little lost, and the rain is soaking me right to the bone." He spoke, edging closer to the cloaked figure.

Only pouring rain filled the silence.

"I don't have much on me right now," Eijirou explained. "But I promise to pay you back for the lodging and food."

The being behind the cloak turned back and continued their path as they spoke. "On the contrary, I'm on my way to my cabin, so no payment is needed. And you may join me in return for one favor."

Eijirou squinted at the moon, blurred behind the murky clouds and constant rain. "What do you think, Ms. Moon?" Eijirou asked as he shielded his eyes from the downpour. He didn't sense any negative aura or ambitions from the being with the lantern. So he trotted along the footprints in the mud until he fell into a walking pace at the stranger's side. Yet still a few paces behind out of habit.

It took the stranger a moment to notice Eijirou's strange practice. Commenting on it soon after. "Part of the royal guard, boy?"

He gave a brief nod and became increasingly more conscious of his posture and walking stance. "Yes, I am."

"Wouldn't it be yes, sir?"

Eijirou's eyes widened as he realized his mistake. "Pardon me, sir. I didn't want to assume."

The cloaked person grunted. "Yet another thing to be foolish about. If you were wrong, I would've corrected you. Simple."

They fell into a silence that only the splattering rain and the rustling leaves could fill.

It didn't take long before a cabin became visible. Moss-covered stone formed the walls as vines scoured their way to the roof. The inside of the house had been lit already as smoke puffed from the chimney. They arrived at the front door, and the rain had died down to a sprinkle. "I already have supper brewing inside. Would you like a towel?"

Eijirou nodded. "Please."

On the first floor was a set table with four chairs around it and a worn red carpet beneath. A black coat rack became occupied when the man draped his cloak on one of the pegs. The fire crackled and spat sparks up the chimney as a pot rested above its bright heat on a metal rack. A small kitchen hugged the back wall. And a line of stairs along the other side of the room. There wasn't much else to see or use.

"I wasn't planning on cooking for two...but that's what magic's for," the man chuckled. He ruffled a hand through his short, auburn hair. "Bless Kutvis for that."

He kept his face away from Eijirou as he jogged up the stairs. "Take a chair up to the fire and warm yourself up. I'll be back with that towel."

Thankful for the stranger's hospitality, Eijirou did so. But first, he toed off his shoes, not wanting to muck up the clean flooring. Careful not to scratch the floors, he lifted the chair before carrying it to the desired spot. Once he was closer to the flame, he set it back down. Heat licked his face and pressed against his shivering torso. Eijirou watched the flames dance against the stone as he rested his elbows on his knees to savor the warmth. But he was quick to sit up when he heard footsteps reappear.

The man no longer hid his face from Eijirou. Or rather, he didn't hide what covered his features. A red plague mask with gold accents and the upper half cut off, sealed away half his face. Thin eyebrows hung above golden eyes. It was almost like he was calculating Eijirou and his moves. "Here's the towel," he spoke with an ice-cool tone.

Eijirou graciously took it and began to dry his hair. "Thank you, sir."

He grunted and paced over to the kitchen, grabbing two oven mitts. After the man slid a glove over one hand, he placed the other in the middle of the table.

"Would you need me to help with anything, sir?"

"No, I would've asked if I needed any."

"Right, sorry, sir."

Steam rose from the pot full of soup once the lid was off. The smell of delicious stew filled the air while the man pulled out a pouch from his belt of belongings. "I hope you like rabbit. Because that's all I've made," he spoke as he sprinkled white, glittery powder into Eijirou's bowl.

Eijirou rose from his chair and moved it to its original resting spot. He realized that the hospitable gentleman hadn't poured anything for himself. So he decided to say something. "Aren't you going to eat anything, sir?"

The man shook his head. "I don't like to eat in front of strangers..."

He muttered a very quiet oh before thanking the gods for the meal. Eijirou blew on his spoon, wary of making a mess. The rich flavors sang on his tongue, and it was after his third bite that the stranger spoke again.

"You know, I never really liked the rulers of Amberfield. More specifically, I despised their son, Katsuki."

Eijirou's eyebrows rose at the name of his ward. Sure, he was rough around the edges, but he did care for his kingdom. Eijirou rested his spoon along the inside of his bowl. "What do you mean by that, sir? I could file a complaint if you'd like."

With a shake of his head, the man rose from his seat. "There's no need for that. I already did it in my own...special way."

His stomach began to churn, brows pinched in confusion. Yet, at the same time, it was an alarmed understanding. "You—you what?"

A hand grabbed Eijirou's chin and forced him to face the man. "Get this through your thick skull," he hissed, eyes narrowed. "Because you can't seem to understand, let me give you a visual. Picture your beloved prince and queen parading through their perfect little lives. Like they haven't completely ruined mine."

Eijirou sat frozen in fear. Is this man using him to get through to Bakugou?

"Before you could even wield your little sword, I was cast out of the castle. Everyone claimed that I used dark magic against their crown's approval. They replaced me and ridiculed me. I can't stand how filthy their ways of doing things. I knew from the start who you were in the forest and knew I could get my revenge. So, I curse you, Eijirou Kirishima. I curse you so that when Cesin lays the first blanket of white along the Earth, you'll be a mindless dragon. Doomed to decimate your kingdom's rulers and everything you come to have loved."

Bile climbed up the back of his throat as a splitting headache tore through him. "I've heard about you. You're...are you Kai Chisaki?" Eijirou managed as his eyes glazed over.

"Yes, yes I am," Chisaki answered as his hand left Eijirou's chin and coiled around his hair instead. "Now. There are two ways you may go about with my curse. You can bid your time, waiting until the inevitable happens. Or, you can slit your throat, killing Amberfield's best soldier. Either way, the kingdom will mourn and feel the same loss I felt all those years ago."

The hand around his hair released, and Eijirou collapsed to his knees, tears in his eyes. Chisaki paced to the door, opened it, and gestured to the dark scenery outside. "I did promise that you could stay the night. But I think you would prefer to sleep in your bed tonight after everything."

Scrambling to his feet, Eijirou stumbled through the door. The haunting voice called out to him once more. Sending sickening shivers up his spine. "You should have never trusted the stranger behind the cloak, Kirishima!"

With adrenaline pumping through his legs, he ran as far and fast as they could. Something was happening to him. He ran quicker, but it felt like a snail's pace. His vision was sharper, further even, but everything felt blurred and muted. His sense of smell was overwhelming as his hearing soaked in every little audible detail. Everything was too much, yet too little. It felt like this new power was just out of reach. But Eijirou knew that it surged through his nerves and veins.

A wolf's howl echoed when Eijirou came to a screeching stop. He planted a hand against a tree for support while he retched. The potent sour smell caused him to dry heave, wiping his chin with his free hand. "Please tell me, Ms. Moon, what did I do to deserve this?" Eijirou choked out a sob as he pleaded to the half-moon above. The moon's grin seemed full of mockery and disdain this time.

"I—I need to get far away from that god-forsaken place," he ordered himself. But Eijirou's body refused to cooperate, shaking and shivering. "Damn it, why can't I move?"

He stood there for a moment, gasping in the damp spring air. As he took in his surroundings more, he noticed how everything became familiar. He was almost home.

Breaking into a brisk jog, Eijirou pressed forward as he passed the kingdom's walls. Slowing his pace through the sleepy villages, he felt his legs trembling again. Yet he continued at a limping pace. Eijirou finally realized the sting on his feet was from a lack of proper footwear. "Crap, I left my shoes behind..."

Entering through the servant halls, Eijirou snuck around the dimly lit paths. Once he found his room, he did everything but go to sleep. He lit the candles. Paced throughout his chambers. Anxiously ran his hands through his hair. Anything to keep himself awake, he did. It felt like if he stayed awake until morning, it would prove that this wasn't some bizarre dream of sorts.

Eijirou yelped when he saw his reflection through the small mirror hung across from his bed. His once midnight black locks were now a flaming red.

If interested in reading, the links for wattpad and AO3 are here!

[serregon]

Gideon and Harrow for the ship questions?

griddlehark my beloveds. I haven’t written anything for tlt and I haven’t really interacted with the fandom much yet but I’d love to write more about them. also I trimmed this bc it’s Long

How did they first meet?

I mean, they don’t remember since they were babies. but like once Gideon was old enough to be all “oh hey I have a consciousness and memory” her first impressions of Harrow were “ugh look at this stupid spoiled princess”

Who felt romantic feelings first?

you’re telling me that repressed space catholic Harrow spent all her life around her hot butch archnemesis with massive biceps and a big sword and she NEVER thought “shit griddle’s looking kinda fine”. I don’t believe you

Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

oh they are the co-ceos of resisting their feelings

Who initiated their feelings first?

Harrow and I’m begging for Alecto to have a scene where she’s like grabbing Gideon by the shirt collar and being like “god damn it don’t you see I’m in love with you”

Who said “I love you” first?

^^^

Who gets jealous easily?

Harrow is like “back off that’s MY beloathed replacement cavalier”. but like jealous Gideon would be fun too

Who is more protective?

they both have their protective moments. I hate your guts, but I’M the only one who can hurt you. Gideon’s obvious, cavalier and all, and Harrow literally gave herself a lobotomy to protect Gideon from her own sacrifice

Who remembers the little things?

Gideon may just be a jock, but she never forgets Harrow’s favorite color and her favorite flower and her favorite rib bones

Who talks about their feelings more?

I mean, they’re both awful at talking about their feelings, and the past 7 years of mutual hatred could have been avoided if they actually sat down and TALKED. Gideon is less awful at talking about her feelings

Who uses the cheesier pickup lines?

Gideon “would you love me if I was a worm” Nav

What does a first date look like for them?

I think their first date wouldn’t even be planned as a date, they just do something together and sparks start flying and they’re like oh shit is this a date

What do they like to do together?

I know stargazing is cliche for a sci fi story but like,, come on. who doesn’t love stargazing. stargayzing. they point to the constellations that are just weird blobs and say “that’s you”

Which one gets angry the most, leaving the other to calm them down?

Harrow

Do they like PDA?

Gideon likes pda. Harrow says she doesn’t, don’t listen to her she’s lying

What are their big spoon / little spoon arrangements?

Gideon is usually the big spoon, since Harrow is so tiny. but little spoon Gideon would be cute

Does one like the cuddle more than the other?

Gideon is a huge cuddler, Harrow won’t admit it but she’s touch starved as hell and she needs those cuddles.

Harrow: oh no griddle I am NOT cuddling you

Gideon: ok fine

Harrow: w-what are you doing you’re supposed to grab me and cuddle me now

Who hogs the blankets?

Harrow

Who’s more likely to initiate sex?

Gideon

Who’s the kinkiest?

Harrow. is there anything more kinky than lesbian skeleton catholicism? but like they’re still trying to figure this whole sex thing out bc they’re both virgins, what with them literally being the only two people under 35 on the entirety of Pluto

Who is the top and bottom in their sex life? Are they interchangeable?

Gideon is a service top and Harrow is a very bratty pillow princess

Who likes giving and who likes receiving oral?

Gideon LIVES for eating 🐱

[ecargmura]

Astro Note Episode 12 Review + Final Thoughts - Happy Endings For All

The ending, while happy, was something I did not expect and that’s a good thing. I mean, I didn’t predict that this show would turn into a mech one and that the mecha robot would be participating in a final battle Astro Lodge and fish aliens. I like the unpredictability this show gives!

I didn’t expect that the reason the Hubby king was after Mira was so he could marry and have babies with her. He failed with Adara, so he was settling for Mira. The reason why he wanted to marry a Wido was because he wanted to have beautiful and talented children. That’s a very dumb reason, but I didn’t see that coming. I’m guessing Widos are objectified and glamorized like how Asians are objectified and glorified by Western countries. I also didn’t expect that Shoin’s house was a spaceship and that it cannot transform into a mech like Mira’s. He was promised marriage with Mira if he abided to the Hubby king’s order, but it was all a lie. Geez, all these people are trying to court Mira, but Takumi comes out the victor because she professes her love for him to the aliens.

I also didn’t predict that the Astro Lodge tenants would be chilling and eating food. They’re so free-spirited! Though, if I was in my house that turned into a spaceship and I wasn’t the one piloting it, I too would be chilling and waiting until the pilot finishes their task. Freaking out over alien attacks would only last a moment.

Mira decides to renounce her right to the throne and decide to stay on Earth and on Astro Lodge as its landlady. I honestly did not predict this. Usually, these types of stories have it to where someone from another planet would go back and leave Earth. Astro Note breaks all of those cliche tropes. She says that she doesn’t want to be tied down by duties she doesn’t want and rule a place she had no attachment towards. Honestly, go Mira for chasing after what she wants! I’m glad that she actually decides to stay!

Mira’s decision of not wanting to be tied down actually inspires the tenants. They all get happy endings, surprisingly! Ren decides to wear skirts to school and it seems that his friend Haruto and the girl with the frilly dress are okay with it! Tomihiro feels proud that Ren is becoming confident and it seems that he got a job of his own too! Aoi finally gets a job as a legal assistant to Tasuke’s lawyer, the lady who helped her out with Tasuke when she was homeless. She even grew to like dogs as she is seen petting her boss’s Cavalier Spaniel at the same bench Shokichi sat on. While the Naosuke and Aoi romance didn’t happen, I’m glad that it stayed a platonic relationship. He’s the reason why she became more assertive now. She even gave Naosuke a radio so he can remember her with it; she even submitted an entry so that Naosuke can listen to the song she requested on the radio. Aw, it’s like what he did for her in the previous episode. Teruko is finally seeing some success as an idol as she’s on the front cover of a magazine! I seriously thought Shokichi died, but it was a fake out. It turns out that he wants to go to space with Naosuke and visit Planet Wid so that he can write a book about it; he’s trying to finish writing a sci-fi novel that revolves around a man meeting a space alien girl—sort of like Adara and Mira’s situations. Takumi gets a job in a restaurant where he works lunch shift. I didn’t expect Shoin to end up being a tenant for good and returns to being Takumi’s apprentice. He is last seen working at a bakery where he’s a hit with the female customers. The only one who didn’t get a happy end was the Hubby king and he deserves a bad end for all the trouble he caused.  I actually like that everyone got happy endings and that there’s no need for a Season 2! Everything concluded satisfactorily. 

However, Naosuke is going to go back because he wants to. Mira revokes his duty of protecting her for life, so he decides that he’s going to protect the key. I guess that’s his version of a happy ending? At least Shokichi will come along with him, so he has a remnant of Earth with him.

This is probably one of the happiest endings I’ve seen in anime. While some things did get rushed, it was a nice blend of comedy, romcom and sci-fi.

Final Thoughts

I just decided to watch Astro Note because it looked like a weird anime and I figured out I was a weird anime enjoyer. Yes, it was weird, but it was surprisingly entertaining! I do like that the writing makes it in a way that some predictable things aren’t as predictable as I would assume like with the whole ordeal with Ren liking skirts or the whole finale.

It’s not a perfect anime, but I did enjoy the characters and gags a lot. However, if I were to be a critic, I’d say that not all characters got fleshed out in this 12-episode run. There’s a lot I don’t know about Shokichi. Heck, even Takumi doesn’t get fleshed out a lot. All we know about him was that he lost his job at a hotel due to bankruptcy and is working at Astro Lodge now. I’d like to learn a little bit more about him like where he’s from or his background before getting into cooking. Heck, I would’ve liked to learn a bit more about Shoin too! I feel like characterization got shoved to move the plot forward. It’s also a crime that we didn’t see what Planet Wid looks like. Despite that, the anime does do a great job showing that Astro Lodge is a share house full of kooky tenants; the supporting cast are all kooky and it’s presented well.

The voice cast was stacked, surprisingly. A lot of A-list actors and actresses are casted here! We have Soma Saito and Maaya Uchida as the leads and the supporting cast consists of names such as Shinichiro Miki, Junichi Suwabe, Tomokazu Sugita, Rie Kugimiya and more. This anime is perfect for anyone who’s a fan of any of these actors. The only voice actress I’m not familiar with is Ai Furihata, who voices Teruko, but that’s because I’m not into Love Live. She does do a good performance, though!

The soundtrack fits the whimsical atmosphere, but I did like the opening and ending songs a lot. The opening sound is sung by Ai Furihata and the ending song is sung by Soma Saito and Maaya Uchida. I really like it when anime voice actors participate in the opening or ending songs. It makes them feel rather involved, you know?

I think that this is a good anime to just kick back, relax and laugh at the craziness transpiring. It’s nothing too serious to think about. If you like animes like that, I suggest you try watching this!

[dailyaudiobiblechronological]

4/24/2023 DAB Chronological Transcription

Psalm 43-45, Psalm 49, Psalm 84-85, Psalm 87

Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological, I'm Jill. This music makes me so happy. Today's the 24th day of April, welcome, everybody. It's so good to be here on this journey through the Bible in chronological order. Every day we'll do it until we get through the Word and its entirety in a year. What a beautiful journey it has been thus far and what a beautiful community this is to be on that journey with. Thank you for allowing me to be some part of this community and your journey through the Bible, what a sheer privilege it really is to do this. We started the Book of First Chronicles yesterday, if you remember, all the way back to yesterday. And there was quite a bit of genealogy just to sort of do a little bit of review, I suppose. And it's important not to gloss over those names and go, what are we doing this for? Why are we here? Everything is part of a bigger story, remember? And we're linking up to the genealogy of Jesus, which will come on the scene in the New Testament later in the year. But we're seeing all of these men and women, but men who are imperfect, but are good people chasing after the heart of God, and some dealing with their own insecurities, as we've just witnessed through King Saul. But we are leading up to a man, both fully God, fully human, a man that was the only perfect human being that lived this earth, that will ever live this earth that got it right and still got killed for getting it right. So we're actually learning the lineage of Jesus. It's that story within a story. So this is why it's important to stay within it. That's what we did yesterday. Today we are taking a little break. We're coming into that 3D view of viewing the Psalms, hearing the heart of David through lament, through poetry, through song, which can all be an act of worship when it is from our heart. So this is where we find ourselves today. And quite a few psalms to read, psalm 43 and 45. And then we'll jump to Psalm 49 and then we'll flip way back to Psalm 84 and 85. And then just a little jug over to Psalm 87 to end today. This week we're reading it in the Christian Standard Bible. Psalm 43 and 45. Commentary

Just a few thoughts regarding how we're reading the Psalms today. First of all, reading the Psalms such as this in this context is a little bit like reading an old hymnal book or an old song book, if you just read the words out loud because you have no clue how the tune goes. And we hear the difference from Psalm to Psalm in the context of that which we're reading, just like we would two hymnals back to back. If you were singing A Mighty Fortress is Our God and turn the page and then sing I'll Fly Away, one declaring the Majesty, the Almighty God and then turning the page, and the second one is like, some happy day, I'm out of here. I'm gone, I'll fly away. It's also said that David is just a very artistic man. He's a musician, sometimes musicians. I don't know if you guys know this. We can be a little temperamental. We can feel very, very deeply and be very passionate about our feelings. And we can often hear this in the writings of David, the ones that he wrote in the Psalms. So we cannot read these with fluidity. These are really separate pieces, almost like a journal entry for the day. Well, what happened in that day? Something had to happen to make the author go, wake up, lord, why are you sleeping? Don't reject us forever. Why are you hiding? And we can be in the situation that we're at in our life, sure of what today holds, sure of what happened today, or sure of the outcome of something that happened that we were in a tight spot in or that we were just really wrestling through. But when we're wrestling, it's very human to ask God, where are you? Why does it feel like you're so cavalier with my heart when I'm in complete distress? Why does it feel like you don't care? And you're not giving me clear answers in the fluorescent worded lighting all in capitals out on the side of my house so I know which direction to go in. Come on. We've all been there. We've all thought it, thunk it, prayed it, screamed it, cried it. And I just think the beauty of it all is that God can handle those things that we say. He can handle our questions. He can handle them through gritted teeth and through sloppy tears, and it doesn't take Him by surprise. The ones who seem to not be comfortable with the questions is us. And we're often not comfortable with the questions because we want to know all the answers, and we think we know the answers to everything else. We don't want to be caught in a question we don't know the answer for. So it's just easier to shame the person for the question when God is completely safe with our questions. So put this in our pocket as we weave in and out of the Psalms through the next, however long that we are in them. And maybe remember that we are sort of reading it like a song book or like a prayer book, like the Book of Common Prayer, ancient prayers, a book of poetry from, I don't know, whoever your favorite author is. And maybe that will help us contextually as we take these little jaunts into the Psalms or little breaks in our reading. Prayer

So, Father, we thank you today for so much. We thank you that you are a mighty fortress. Thank you that you are safe with our questions. We hear today the questions, and they arise in our own heart, or they have at times, whether they are right. In this moment, I think it may be safe to say. Nearly every person that has followed you has questioned where you are, where you have been in our time of need, in our situation, where it seems that you have just been absent or you've not cared. And that could not be further from the truth. But even despite the truth, I thank you that we can bring those hard questions to you and they are safe in your presence. You don't shame us. I don't take you by surprise. You don't throw us away or discount us because we question. But what I have found to be true, that you have proven time and time again, is that you show yourself faithful in the questions of our lives, in our faith, in your existence. And I pray that would be true for every person here listening. We thank you for who you are and we thank you for your love. We pray this now all in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, amen. Announcements

Daily Audio Bible, that's home base. If you are new around here, check it out. That's the app. You can download it. That's the website. And if you want to know what this is all about, if you are new, that's the place to check it out. Also check out the resources and the store. Some great tools invented to enhance your journey through the Bible. One in particular that I love is the God of Your story. A book written by my husband that follows every day's commentary. Kind of a little personal tour guide for that day. If you are going through the one year Bible, that would be the Old Testament, New Testament, Psalms and Proverbs every day. But that is a beautiful resource that's available in the store. If you like the background music that we play during the podcasts, that's all available there for you. Coffee, tea, whole list of things. If you'd like to partner with us, we thank you so much for your partnership. We could not do this ministry without you. It's far too big and we are so grateful that we do not have to. If you're giving by mail DAB PO Box 1996, Spring Hill, Tennessee 37174. Or if you are utilizing your mobile app, hit the Give icon. It's up at the top right hand corner of your app. And lastly, look for the Give icon on the website. If you need prayer. If you'd like to pray for someone that's previously called in several different ways for you to do so 800 583-2164 that is the number for Chronological. Or if you're using that mobile app again, hit the Red Circle button. That's also up at the top of your mobile device. You have two minutes on the app. Make sure you speak clearly, concisely in your mobile device. At the end, hit Send. Turn the wheel over to Chronological so that it goes to the right place, otherwise it'll get lost. That's it for me today. I'm Jill, will turn the page together tomorrow and I look forward to it. Until then, love one another. Community Prayer Line

Hi Jill, I just listened to April 14 and you talked about sin as an internal issue really reaches home with me. I've experienced the Salt Syndrome all of my life, but I've only been calling it the Salt Syndrome for about ten years or so. And thank you for sharing that information and to allow God to clean my heart. I am asking if you guys would lift my son and I up in prayer. We are going to start seeing a therapist so that we can save this relationship. We have been close with his dad all of his life, but as I'm sure you know, his girlfriend has trauma with her mom and her family with an affair and pervertedism and all of that stuff. And somehow my family reminds her of hers and she cannot be with us for very long as a result of that. We don't see our son very often. We talk on occasion, but really I just walk around with this cloud of darkness that my family causes her trauma and she will not tell us how we do pray for her. And they are in three and a half years of a relationship now, so I'm very concerned the writings on the wall, but thy will be done, god be glorified. My son and I are going to start seeing a therapist because we don't know how to talk to each other anymore. We both used to talk to the cows, come home. We could say everything, anything, work it all out. I'm still working on that platform. But he is not, and I understand as an adult his privacy, his independence. So please pray for our counseling that we can get over this and save this relationship. Oh, dear, Daily Audio Bible Chronological family DABbers and precious precious china So good to hear your precious voice and prayers for your pregnancy. I was just so touched by all the prayer requests today. His redeemed rejoicing with you. I'm sorry. The gospel rejoicing for hope for your baby. Hope Elizabeth and His Redeemed had left another baby about the baby, which we had all been praying for. So pray for God for that, your baby, his Redeemed daughter and.