#how much land to be self sufficient

[healthylifewithus]

The Only Book You Need to Become Self-Sufficient on a Quarter Acre.

With this book, you’ll probably never have to rely on anybody else in times of crisis. You’ll become truly independent from the government, grocery chains, pharmacies, water and energy companies, and even the entire grid as you’ll produce everything you need on your own land.And the truth is, you don’t need a big piece of land to do that, just a quarter of an acre or even less.The Only Book You Need to Become Self-Sufficient on a Quarter Acre .But to achieve this kind of self-sufficiency on a small plot, you need to make everything as efficient as possible and absolutely need the right kind of advice from the start. Ron Melchiore and his wife, Johanna, have been living completely off-grid for over 40 years.They are self-sufficient, and they’ve had decades to perfect the methods they will share with you inside their new book:

[drumlincountry]

EVERY fantasy book EVERY scifi novel every starwars movie every post apocalyptic show. I ask, WTF??? The same same question EVERY time. Say it with me - WHERE’S THE FARMING?

[1800-fight-me]

An Experiment in Desire

Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Rating: E (EXPLICIT - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT)

Warnings: Explicit sex, takes place in a brothel

Word count: About 2k

Synopsis: You find yourself in a brothel and have an unexpected encounter with the one eyed prince.

Author’s note: So uh... that brothel scene in the last episode really did a number on me,,, this is the filthiest thing I've ever written and I make no apologies thanks @arcielee for the inspo! and also i borrowed this beautiful gif from @aegonx i hope that's okay!!

I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Here's the link to my Aemond Masterlist if you want to check out my other stories! Also my requests are open, please send me some more!!

You weren’t quite sure how you found yourself in this particular predicament. Despite your loud and frequent complaints throughout the night, you had none to voice now. 

It was a night out with your friends to celebrate the impending marriage of the loudest of your friend group to the baker’s boy. It was a good match, you were happy for her, she liked him well enough and he would be able to provide for her, which was as much as anyone could ask as smallfolk in King’s Landing. 

What you did object to however, was when the group decided that leaving the tavern, after entirely too many rounds of surprisingly strong beer, and heading to a brothel was a good idea. 

She had expressed nerves about her wedding night, and some of the others in your party overruled your protests and decided that bringing her to a brothel so she could ‘at least see what it’s all about’ was the perfect idea. 

You needed no such education, having laid with a man once before, well the word man was a stretch, it was a couple of years ago and he was a boy not much older than you who worked in the stables of the Red Keep. It wasn’t anything to write home about, but it had been sufficient, and your interest in sex had decreased since then. 

Now, you wondered if you had been wrong to not explore other options. The dark rooms were filled with incense, curtains, and moans of ecstacy. Many fornicators weren’t even hidden by curtains, but were completely out in the open for any and all to see. 

Your friends gasped and giggled, watching and whispering as a woman on her knees choked on a man’s cock. You were surprised that she seemed to be enjoying it, and it made you wonder if it was something you would enjoy too. 

A hand slipped into yours and you let your friends tug you along, this time you bit your lip to withhold your gasp as a man licked and feasted on a woman’s cunt. This was something you knew immediately you would enjoy, as a rush of heat filled you and you felt the desire to not just observe anymore, but to participate. 

There was a bit of commotion as a group of loud men filtered into the room and in an effort to get out of their way as the silver haired leader of the group stumbled through yanking back curtains in search for someone- your hand slipped from your friend’s and you were separated from your group. 

One of the men in the group slapped your ass, which startled you so much you stumbled back and pressed yourself against a wall in order to get away from the rowdy intruders. 

Some of the crowd paused their copulation, to look at the disruption and there were whispers. 

“What did you say?” you asked the unclothed woman walking past you. 

“That’s the king,” she replied. Then she looked you up and down, an innuendo in her eyes, and held out a beckoning hand to you. It took all your self control not to slip your hand in hers and follow her anywhere. 

Instead you politely declined with a small shake of your head, and she shrugged and continued on. You stuck to your post guarding the wall, and wondered where your friends had drifted off to. 

You decided you should wander into one of the adjoining rooms to find them, when a man stomped out of the enclosed curtained area the king and his man had gone into. 

The man was completely nude, that was the first thing you noticed. It was difficult not to notice. He was difficult not to notice. He looked like a carved statue, long hard planes of muscle everywhere on his tall form. Long flowing silver hair and an eye of sapphire also caught your eye.

You heard him mutter something to the king, “One whore is as good as another.” The king laughed, but Prince Aemond seemed to shake with anger. 

His presence was intoxicating and you couldn’t look away, especially not when he noticed your attention, and looked directly at you. 

You suddenly forgot how to breathe, how to stand, how to blink as he pinned you within his intense gaze. He stopped his stride as he approached you, standing closer than would ever be considered appropriate for a stranger, and looked you up and down. 

You resisted the urge to squirm as the nude prince dragged his gaze up your body and made you feel laid bare. 

He held a hand out to you, “Come with me.” 

Your pulse jumped and your hand itched to slip into his. 

“My prince, I am not a whore. I am here with friends…” 

He pursed his lips, “Even better. And you appear to be alone. Will you come with me or not?” 

His voice was rough with an unnamed emotion and you wanted to please him, to be the reason for relief from his torment, and you threw all caution to the wind. 

You placed your hand in his, his callouses scraping against your own, and you shivered as he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, as if you were a proper lady and not the bastard daughter of a blacksmith. As if this were a courtship, not a fuck between strangers in a brothel. 

He then slipped his hand across your back and down to your waist and led you out of the large room filled with others. You were quiet, but the same could not be said of the pounding of your heart as a prince of the realm led you to a room with a door. 

“What is your name?” he asked as he shut the door behind him, sealing the two of you alone in a small room with only a desk and chair within it. 

You answered and when he murmured your name back to you, your breath caught in your throat. 

“My Prince,” you breathed out as he took a step towards you. 

“Aemond,” he corrected. 

“Aemond, this is out of character for me, I-“

He raised his brow at you, and you acted rashly, fearing you were losing him, this opportunity, and decided not to talk anymore, and practically threw yourself at him. 

He groaned as his lips met yours, and as he stepped forward to meet you, your bodies collided and he guided you back a few steps until your back hit the wall. 

His tongue was inside your mouth and it was better than any kiss you’d ever had. He moved it with expertise that made your clit throb and you wondered if he would indeed want to use that tongue in other places. 

You realized there was nothing preventing you from touching him, not a single scrap of clothing, and so you let your hands explore. Down from his muscled chest, to his toned abs, lower… 

Aemond gasped in your mouth as your hand grazed his now hardening length. Your hand

continued its journey, cupping his balls and he ripped his lips from yours, a wild look in his eye. Before you could blink, he was ripping the clothes off you, baring you completely. 

You had half a second of feeling insecure as he took a step back and surveyed your naked form, before the prince murmured, “Perfect.” 

His lips and body crashed into you again, your back slamming into the wall, but you didn’t care, didn’t care, didn’t care as his bare skin brushed against yours, as all your curves pressed into his firm muscle, as his cock pressed against you, begging for attention. 

And as you reached a hand between your bodies to once again touch him, his lips pulled from

yours and he looked you in the eyes as his hand followed the same journey as your own. 

He ran a hand from the side of your throat, down your breast, taking a moment to gently squeeze and fondle which had you gasping. His thumb circled your nipple as your hand gripped his hard

cock. 

You both moaned in tandem at the action, and then his hand drifted lower, lower, and lower still, until his large hand cupped your mound and found you soaked beyond belief. 

He groaned as those nimble fingers spread your lips and explored your soaked cunt, quickly finding your clit, just as you rubbed your thumb across the sensitive underside of cock. 

“Fuck,” you panted as you both pleasured one another with your hands. You gripped and pumped his cock as you stared into his lust blown gaze. 

This, you’d never felt so wanted, so attractive, so powerful as when you held a prince

of the realm’s pleasure in your hand. 

His fingers drifted, and with a smirk, he plunged two inside you. You gasped, pleasure unlike

any other as your cunt squeezed him. 

And you could see that release was barreling towards you both, you knew he could tell the same as he batted your hand from him, yanked his hand out of you, and pressed you back against the wall. 

His lips were on you again, consuming you, as he lifted you up, using the leverage of the wall and you followed his lead as you wrapped your legs around his trim waist. 

His tongue tangled with your own as he plunged his cock inside you. 

His impressive length hit you deeper than you’d ever experienced before and you let out a whine. He chuckled, a cocky sound, and gripped the flesh of your hips tightly as he began thrusting in and out. 

You let your head fall back against the wall as you submitted to the waves of pleasure he brought you. 

His lips pressed against your throat, his

tongue and teeth, taking turns to make you whine as he continued to thrust inside you, his tempo hard and punishing and rough and everything you needed. You tried to grind down on him, to meet his thrusts, but he growled and gripped you tighter, pressed you harder against the wall, and you submitted control to him completely and let him use you. 

One hand tangled in his hair, the other gripped any muscle you could find, as his lips traveled down your throat to your breasts. 

As he licked and sucked your nipple, his cock hit the deepest part of you, and his groin ground against your clit, you shattered completely. 

You practically screamed his name as you came harder than you’d ever experienced before. 

This only encouraged him, and his grip on you tightened, you knew you would have bruises tomorrow, and you clenched down his cock as his thrusts increased in pace and intensity. The unholy squelching sound as he pounded inside you was music to your ears, you had no room to be bashful, not as you felt full, deliciously so. 

The frames on the wall shook as he pounded into you, and just as he was about to reach ecstasy, he pulled out of you and put you back on your own two feet. 

You watched as the prince touched himself, that large hand gripping his even larger cock, and your cunt throbbed at the sight. He moaned as his come splattered all across your stomach and breasts. 

You both watched each other, panting, coming down from unbelievable heights. You looked at his beautiful form and thought he was carved by the gods. 

He lifted your head with a finger under your chin, and as you met his gaze once more, and he pressed a swift kiss to your lips. 

“Perhaps we’ll meet again,” he murmured. Then he dropped his hand from your face, turned and left the room. 

You stood there, alone, completely naked, and covered in a royal come and wondered how you found yourself in this situation, but also hoped it could someday be repeated.

[dandelionsresilience]

Good News - July 8-14

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $Kaybarr1735! And if you tip me and give me a way to contact you, at the end of the month I'll send you a link to all of the articles I found but didn't use each week!

1. Zoo welcomes birth of four endangered horse foals

“[The Marwell Zoo in GB] said it was "delighted" to welcome the arrivals to the endangered Przewalski’s horse herd. All four are female and said to be "doing well" after two were born in May and two in June. […] “These horses, that were previously listed extinct in the wild, are an example of how zoo breeding programmes can help restore threatened species around the world.” […] All the Przewalski’s horses alive today are descended from just 12 individuals. Current estimates suggest there are 178 mature individuals living in the wild.”

2. Restoring woodlands and planting trees for sustainability success

“In 2023, [the Marwell Zoo] planted 9,000 new trees […] both within the zoo and on our surrounding land. […] Marwell tries to encourage natural feeding behaviour and nutrition by including leafy material [in animals’ feed] as much as possible. […] Planting more trees and enhancing management of our existing woodlands, prepares the way to further self-sufficiency in browse production in the future. Plus, it creates new habitats for wildlife in our woodland areas.”

3. Inclusive Playgrounds Allow Children Of All Abilities To Play

“With ramps allowing children in wheelchairs to ascend the central play structure, as well as numerous other swings and apparatus usable for children of all abilities, the 16,000-square-foot P.K.’s Place is St. Paul’s first fully inclusive playground. […] To be universally accessible, a play area must have at least 70% of its play features fully accessible, far more than required by the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA). […] Play areas should allow parents and grandparents with disabilities to participate as well.”

4. Combination treatment can increase human insulin-producing cells in vivo

“[Diabetes-model mice] were treated with the combination therapy [of a plant product called harmine and “a widely used class of type 2 diabetes therapy”] and their diabetes was rapidly reversed. Strikingly, human beta cell numbers increased by 700 percent over three months with this drug combination. "This is the first time scientists have developed a drug treatment that is proven to increase adult human beta cell numbers in vivo. This research brings hope for the use of future regenerative therapies to potentially treat the hundreds of millions of people with diabetes," said Dr. Garcia-Ocaña, the paper's corresponding author.”

5. Decades of Dedication: Australia’s Largest Ongoing Urban Restoration Project

“[Friends of Lake Claremont] has transformed the area into a thriving ecosystem, re-establishing native habitats and fostering biodiversity. This year, 800 native seedlings (100 trees, 350 shrubs and 350 ground covers) have been planted on the northwestern buffer of Lake Claremont. Volunteers replaced a large Port Jackson fig (Ficus rubiginosa) affected by [beetle] infestation with native plants to enhance the local wildlife habitat, thereby benefiting insects, frogs, birds and brown bandicoots. […] Overall, the project contributes to the area’s function as a regional ecological corridor, linking inland bushlands, the Swan River and the Indian Ocean.”

6. Important habitat for fish in Heart of the Fraser now conserved

“British Columbia’s iconic salmon now have more protected spawning habitat in the lower Fraser River, thanks to the Nature Conservancy of Canada’s (NCC’s) conservation acquisition of Carey Island. […] Carey Island and its gravel channels offer calm and crucial spawning and rearing habitat for the river’s fish and aquatic species. […] The Pelólxw Tribe […is also] actively working to restore the resilience of aquatic habitat within this stretch of the Lower Fraser. NCC is exploring opportunities to collaborate with the Pelólxw Tribe in support of their vision for stewardship of the area, which prioritizes both ecological and cultural values.”

7. Prime editing efficiently corrects cystic fibrosis mutation in human lung cells

“[R]esearchers have developed a gene-editing approach that efficiently corrects the most common mutation that causes cystic fibrosis, found in 85 percent of patients. With further development, it could pave the way for treatments that are administered only once and have fewer side effects. The new method precisely and durably corrects the mutation in human lung cells, restoring cell function to levels similar to that of Trikafta [the standard treatment since 2019].”

8. Montana’s High Court Considers a Constitutional Right to a Stable Climate

“At issue was the appeal of a decision last year, when a Montana judge blocked a state law that prohibited agencies from considering climate impacts when deciding whether to approve fossil fuel projects such as new power plants, pipelines or mining. The ruling, by District Judge Kathy Seeley, was prompted by a lawsuit filed by 16 youths who argued that the law violated Montana’s constitutional right to a “clean and healthful environment.” It was the first ruling in the United States to effectively establish constitutional rights to a stable climate[….]”

9. The US is about to get its first solar-covered canal

“The first canal-based solar project in the U.S. is nearing completion on tribal lands south of Phoenix, Arizona. […] The long, narrow solar array design would snake along the line of the canal and tap into the local electrical distribution grid every 1,000 feet, or every one megawatt. […] “Canal solar allows for greater power production per land size, cleaner water, less power transmission losses, and significant reduction in evaporation[….]” Covering the entire 8,000 miles of canals and waterways managed by the Bureau of Reclamation with solar panels could generate over 25 gigawatts of renewable energy and reduce water evaporation by tens of billions of gallons[….]”

10. Camera traps offer glimpse of first beaver born in Northumberland for 400 years

“"It’s such a relief that they have bred successfully and to see a new fluffy kit swimming with the family[….]” In just one year [since releasing the beavers], there has been a noticeable increase in resident trout, says the National Trust, along with more regular visits from kingfishers and grey herons. There are more insects at the site, too, thanks to the organic matter that builds up behind the dams, which in turn provides food for Daubenton’s bats. […] Beavers also play an important role in creating habitats that are more resilient to the effects of climate change[….]”

July 1-7 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[milkloafy]

TALES OF TEYVAT — PROLOGUE

after years and years of working at your soul-crushing nine to five, you reach your breaking point. while taking a walk to calm yourself down, you see a mysterious ad about a new job opening for a farmer— land and cottage included with no fee. wishing for change, you take a chance and follow the flyer's instructions, despite having no prior farming knowledge... it leads you the small town of teyvat where you meet a handful of charming and interesting individuals. can you learn to find the beauty in life once more? and maybe fall in love along the way...

taglist: @giamee @indarius @lybrin09

wc: ~1.0k

a/n: HOWDYYY i’m so excited to share the intro/prologue of this series with u all !! :3 this is already making me hyped for ayato’s route ahdkkakd but i think that’ll be the last one :> diluc route should be posted next week !!! i hope y’all enjoy and get immersed in the small town of teyvat hehe

“Do you really believe this will work?”

The Teyvat Commissioner sighed, but a hopeful look remained on his face. “I can’t be certain, Thoma. But the town of Teyvat was once self-sufficient an abundant with life.” Ayato paused, glancing down at the stack of papers on his desk. “If we are able to revitalize the farmland, we should grow less reliant on Celestia for our basic daily needs.”

Thoma’s expression soured at the mere mention of Celestia. “I have faith that our Commissioner made the right decision.”

Ayato smiled fondly at his retainer, delighted that even his most peculiar of plans would certainly have at least one supporter. “It seems we will find out soon. Come, let us attempt to tidy up the new farmer’s lodgings before they arrive.”

The first thing you noticed the moment you stepped food onto Teyvat was how quaint the town was.

Compared to the city you were from that was filled to the brim with skyscrapers and dreary highways, Teyvat was quite small. As you surveyed the land, you felt as if you would be able to traverse its perimeters by foot in less than day if you truly wanted.

It would certainly be different from what you were used to… 

You smiled widely as realization sunk in that this place would, in fact, be completely different from what you knew. And that sounded perfect. It was exactly what you wanted, after all.

As soon as you took your first breath of fresh air, you spotted a man with beautiful blue hair and all-white attire approaching to greet you upon arrival. 

“Welcome to Teyvat!” he said warmly. “I’m Ayato, the Commissioner of this town and the one who put up the advertisement. You must be the new…farmer?” 

Ayato faltered as he noticed your attire. You were in a corduroy overall dress with shiny, black Mary Janes and white socks with a lace trim around them. You didn’t have much experience in farming—you worked an office job all your life. What experience could you possibly have gathered? But based on the photos you saw online, you were certain you at least captured the look and style correctly.

The bows and frills were just a fun addition.

“Nice to meet you, Ayato,” you greeted easily, a bright smile on your face. “I’m Y/N, the new farmer.”

A hint of doubt flashed across his face but he covered it up with a disarming smile—one that melted away any concerns you might have had. “Teyvat is honored to have you. I am most pleased that you are here. Do you have much farming experience?”

“I own two houseplants! I’ve kept them alive for almost three months now.” 

He blinked, a smile still plastered across his mouth as you noticed the color draining from his cheeks. Ayato managed to choke out, “That is quite a remarkable feat.”

You laughed at his forced optimism, deciding to finally take him out of his misery. “I’m only kidding, Ayato. I’m aware owning houseplants does not equate to practicable farming experience.” 

Relief washed over him as he shared your amusement. “Oh, thank the gods! So, you do have experience taking care of farmland?”

“No.”

If grief was a person, you figured it would look exactly like Ayato did in this moment.

“But,” you continued cheekily, “I did enjoy growing some potatoes and herbs out on the balcony of my apartment. It’s not much, but I am determined to apply that minimal knowledge to this land of much grander scale. Plus, I have the Internet at my fingertips. I can search any questions I may have online!” 

You giggled to yourself when he nodded in agreement. It seemed he wholeheartedly believed your spiel. 

“Thought, if I may offer one small suggestion?” you said sheepishly.

Ayato raised his brow, but allowed you to continue.

“Perhaps you should request a resume or curriculum vitae of sorts before hiring someone.”

The dignified man in front of you broke out into laughter and, somehow, you found him to be even more attractive that way. 

“I suppose life is full of lessons,” he sighed, but there was teasing lift to his lips. “Truly, I believe you will do just fine as our new farmer. At the very least, I’m certain you will get along with the other residents here, if nothing else.” 

If they were anything like the Commissioner, you were certain he would be right.

“Now, follow me to your new home.”

“Gladly!”

“After, I shall take you around the town to help introduce you to everyone. I understand adjusting to a new life may take some time, but I am here to help in any way that I can.”

The look in his eyes were so intense and earnest, you found yourself fighting not to break his gaze and stare down at your feet. 

Clearing your throat, you fought away your bashfulness and said, “Lead the way, venerable Commissioner.”

Ayato shook his head at your teasing, the corner of his eyes crinkled with amusement. “The townsfolk will most certainly love you. I hope you enjoy your new life here in Teyvat, Y/N.”

You exchanged warm smiles with the Ayato, realizing that in just these few moments with him, you were already enjoying yourself more than you could have ever expected. 

“To new beginnings!” you cheered.

“New beginnings, and falling in love with life,” he added knowingly.

As you followed Ayato over to your new house—your new farm—you allowed yourself to close your eyes for just one moment. You heard the steady rush of the nearby waters and felt the wind toss your hair around. Breathing in deeply, you reveled in the scent of the woodsy, fresh air.

Teyvat was a new world, the polar opposite of the big city you once knew, and you were excited for the opportunity to experience life here at its fullest. 

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Miss Raven! I was reading your opinions about Leona and wanted to ask you, do you think Leona would be a better king than Falena?

[Referencing this post!]

Put simply, no--but not for the reasons you're probably thinking. Hey now, hold on! Put down your pitchforks and torches! Please at least hear what I have to say and consider it.

It's not that I think that Leona is incompetent or that I think Falena is sufficient as a king. It's that ruling (especially as a monarch that has a LOT of power and control) is very nuanced and to say that one person would be "better" than another is grossly glossing over all that goes into governance.

This post gets quite long, so I've placed all my thoughts under the cut. Again, I ask that you read the whole post before commenting.

First of all, the baseline we're comparing to is Falena so let's review what we know about him that's relevant to this discussion. Leona describes Falena as someone who has a "carefree attitude". Because of this, Leona worries that Falena will "run [their] kingdom into the ground." Now something I want to make clear: "[running their] kingdom into the ground" is very harsh wording used ONLY in EN. In JP, Leona is much more casual with his phrasing. He simply expresses that he is "worried about the country's future", not that he thinks Falena will ruin it:

In the book 2 post-OB flashback sequence, Leona implies that his older brother can sing and nap but still be guaranteed the crown because of Falena being first-born. Falena is noted as holding a ceremony in honor of his son's birth; he had commissioned for a fountain to be built (even though water is a scarce resource in their land) and unveiled in their capital—an occasion which Leona skipped. He refers to the ceremony as a "self-indulgent party where you show off your son to the people." This characterizes Falena as a jovial and excessive person who doesn't think too deeply about policies. Another example of this comes from Leona's Birthday Boy vignettes, in which Falena sends his younger brother an expensive rug. "In the time he spends sending me gifts I don't even want, he could be sending rugs to neighboring lands and bolstering our foreign relations," Leona says. "Of course, the thought never even crosses his mind." One of the Sunset Savnna’s driving philosophies is “hakuna matata”, which, as Leona describes it, means, “don’t think too hard about things”. And indeed, if Falena is anything like how Leona says he is, then he is the walking embodiment of their country and their beliefs.

One major issue that is unique to their homeland is that of unification. The Sunset Savanna boasts many different kinds of beastmen, each with their own customs and cultures--and because of that, these beastmen tend to live in settlements of just their own kind and don't always get along or see eye-to-eye with others. For example, it is said that very few bird beastmen reside in the capital city and Ruggie has implied that hyenas are low in the social hierarchy. Kifaji, the grand chamberlain, confides that the acting king Falena has struggled with this unification. The Kingscholars' father has communicated that he would like for nothing more than Leona to lend his assistance to Falena for this endeavor. (Keep this in mind, as I will be touching upon this again later!)

What I think many people tend to overlook when it comes to Falena's rule is that he has not been in power for a long time. According to Tamashina Mina, Falena has only been running the country for "the last few years", which is NOT that long. Falena has not even had that much experience as the official head of state to begin with--and yeah, you could argue that he has been preparing his whole life to eventually become the ruler, training for it and actually doing it are very different beasts. No amount of tutoring will prepare you for having the weight of an entire nation suddenly on your shoulders. I would also argue that anyone that is new to a job won't do the best right away and that experience is the best teacher. Falena is likely still learning while on the job and trying to do his best while also juggling being a parent and husband, trying to reach across the aisle to his estranged younger brother, and looking after his ill father.

This leads me to another point: a lot of what we hear about Falena is coming from Leona's perspective, which is very biased (especially in the post-OB flashback, as this was when Leona was at his most bitter). We should be aware of this while taking in the information Leona is offering. I don't doubt that Leona's telling the truth about how his brother is carefree or the things his brother has done, but at the same time we need to realize that this is a limited view of Falena. It's not the whole picture of who he is. Leona tends to focus on his brother's shortcomings and downfalls--but thinking about it, what are Falena's strengths?

Well, one of them is definitely that Falena is friendly, kind-hearted, and honest. Even Leona confesses to this. However, he frames these traits in a negative way, stating that "[Falena] could just focus on the kingdom's affairs--you know, his JOB--but nooo, he's gotta be the caring big brother who's nice to everybody," and, of his honesty, "he just makes things harder for himself." Falena also seems to be positive and insightful--admirable qualities in a leader. When Leona speaks rudely to him, Falena tries to reassure his little brother: "You may never become king, but you are still wise. There is much you could do for this country." He even pursues Leona when he leaves, trying to get his little brother to see reason. Falena sees the potential in Leona and he wants Leona to realize that potential too. If you look at this another way, this personality can be a boon. It could make it easier for Falena to smooth over tensions and get other political figures to open up to him, similar to how Kalim’s empathy helps to uplift and support his dorm mates and how those dorm mates in return give him their loyalty.

Finally, we know that Falena is cognizant of the culture and the values of the Sunset Savanna and likely works in accordance with those. If we revisit Tamashina Mina, Leona talks at length about how some areas of the country are so underdeveloped that its people are still drinking rainwater or from wells. He laments the situation and says that if only they improved their infrastructure and mined the valuable ore their country has, the people would be able to live better lives. Leona here leans pro-industrialization. From the lack of industrialization we see in large parts of the country, we can assume that Falena does not have this same stance. Rather, Falena understands that the people of the Sunset Savanna cherish living in harmony with nature and want to honor their animal ancestors by living in this way. He KNOWS that their people would be against industrialization, and so he favors slower development (Sunrise City being one of these metropolises that developed under the rule of their father) and in ways which preserve nature. As Lilia puts it, “Developing is easy. You just throw money at it. But building a city like this, while still preserving nature? That’s the real challenge, I’d say.” (That was a very quick summary but if you're interested in reading more about this topic specifically, I'd recommend this post!)

Falena cares about tradition and upholding it, and there isn’t inherently an issue with that. He values where he comes from and the practices that come with that. That’s why Falena gets upset with Leona for not doing his duties and skipping out on important meetings. It’s not purely that Falena sees these acts as disrespectful (although let’s be clear, it is disrespectful), but it also comes with the sadness of knowing that his younger brother doesn’t see the value in the same things he does—yet he still understands that Leona has his own strengths that be brings to the table.

You can see how this could translate into his ruling style too, even if it is not explicitly stated in the game. Falena is someone who is easy to approach with your problems (let's assume that this is the case both for his own people and for diplomats of other countries). He is someone who cares about tending to everyone, which would make him popular with the public--but that means he may spread himself or their resources too thin. Falena is also for slower progress in order to respect the ways of their culture and their people's values. But the point is, Falena cares, and all Leona sees in that is a bleeding heart since it doesn't produce what Leona thinks are good results.

And speaking of Leona, it's about time we get to him. What are his qualifications in a situation where he was king? What would his ruling style be like, and who would it serve his country?

Firstly, it's worthwhile to compare Leona's thinking to Falena's. Unlike his older brother, Leona is proactive--he plans ahead and considers the political power in something as simple as gifting an item. Many of the ideas he proposes for bettering his country are things that Falena either never thought of (ie gifting the rug to another country instead of to him) or would refuse to implement out of principle (speedrunning mining operations). However, it's undeniable that Leona's methods would produce results. As he demonstrates to us with his shady tactics in books 2 and 3, it does not matter to Leona what he has to do in order to achieve what he desires. His eyes are set on the goal, not on how he gets there (though he will plan the steps out meticulously as well). He's willing to tear up the environment if it means enriching the Sunset Savanna's economy and providing clean, consistent drinking water for the citizens. It's ultimately gains, but it jeopardizes maintaining harmony with nature. This would earn him genuine ire from his people (and honestly, disliking someone for blatantly disregarding your beliefs is valid; it's not blindly being petty or hating Leona for being the "lowly second born"). But!! Leona as of book 7 says he is going to intern at a mining and energy lab in his home country. This implies that he is willing to learn about the field and may use that knowledge to enact sustainable change. This is a really good start to his development and growth into a wise leader.

The brothers' personalities are also not alike at all. Leona is... admittedly far more abrasive that Falena. I'm not saying that Leona would behave so rudely to politicians or on a global stage (please, the man has more tact than that), but he would carry himself very differently than Falena. Leona can be polite and speak fancily all he wants, but he still does not have that same approachable warmth to him. Something else we should consider is that... well, Leona doesn't like stuffy occasions or putting on airs, which would basically be expect of him as king. We don't know for sure how he would act if the circumstances ask that he be cordial and yet the man himself detests such a thing. He could play the part if needed, sure. But for how long before he becomes annoyed or tired of it? Leona can also be arrogant and demanding. Do you think he would skip/sleep through meetings with advisors he deems irrelevant or unproductive? (Recall how he skips ceremonies and traditions he deems unimportant or boring, like the celebration of Cheka’s birth and tries to cheat his way out of his responsibilities as Captain of the Sunset Warriors.) How do you think he'd act with people who oppose him? Would he defy traditions? He also disregards the “hakuna matata” mantra and cynically labels it “self-serving”. I could see how tensions could rise as a result. (Reminder that I'm not saying it's for CERTAIN that Leona would do these things, I'm just posing possibilities based on what I understand of his character and whether you believe Leona would act like this or not is up to you.) Leona is 10 years younger than Falena and has never formally served in a governmental position. This means that he, too, lacks the political experience to be king. Some would say that where Leona makes up for this is in life experiences. He has been downtrodden and defeated, mingled among the common folk, etc. This means Leona is better equipped to understand the plight of his people, they argue. And I can see where people are coming from--but personally, I think Leona still lacks what he needs to be a "better" ruler. Yes, Leona has lived "out there", but the fact remains that Falena still has 10 years on him. What's more is that Leona has not actually strayed that far from his privileged life. He's dorm leader (a position of power within NRC), attends an elite magic school, and constantly has Ruggie taking care of him. I don't think this really prepares him to rule a whole country.

That's a good segway into Leona and his leadership. As I've mentioned before, Falena is having trouble with enacting national policies to unite all beastmen. Leona does not appear to have the same issue, as even though there is a variety of beastmen within Savanaclaw, they all defer to Leona the same. Therefore, Leona, as king, could easily resolve this problem in the Sunset Savanna--so the theory goes. As for me, well... In my opinion, I do think it's a show of skill that Leona can get many different beastmen rallying under his flag but I don't think this generalizes to (again) the scale of an entire nation. Not only do we have to account for WAY more people, but also people of demographics that differ wildly from Savanaclaw. The mobs under Leona follow him, yes--but thinking about it, they're all VERY similar demographics-wise. They're roughly the same age, all male, all students, and have the same goals in mind (for book 2, it was to be noticed by talent scouts). I would bet that most of them are from middle class or upper-class incomes too. Now expand the scope to a country. Do you think Leona could appeal to young and old? Male and female? Rich and poor? People of all occupations? What about parents? There are so many other factors to account for, so I don't think it's fair to generalize Leona leading a dorm of maybe 85ish (this is just a guess; NRC has ~800 total students, 600 are on-campus and split across 7 dorms so this assumes equal splitting) to a diverse kingdom of thousands.

If Falena were to abdicate the throne to Leona right this second, no, I don't think Leona would be fit to be king. Leona's ideas seem "good" on a surface level, but that's ignoring the long-term impacts and his less-than-stellar personality quirks. He has a ton that he has to learn before he can comfortably govern. At the same time, Falena isn't exactly a perfect ruler either. He, too, lacks experience and can be short-sighted and naive in spite of his good intentions and willingness to hear everyone out.

In an AU where Leona was actually the crown prince (and thus never got talked down to or treated like the “lesser” second born), maybe things would be different. But then that creates the same issue with Falena (now the scorned younger prince) being the "Leona" of the AU.

Each Kingscholar brother has his own strengths and weaknesses, perspectives, and leadership styles. THIS DOES NOT MAKE ONE SUPERIOR OR "BETTER" THAN THE OTHER. Instead, they make up for one another's deficits or flaws, creating a more well-rounded and unified view. This is, perhaps, why both Falena and their father want Leona to step in and help with ruling the country. I think they all see the benefit that Leona could provide and that they value his thoughts.

The "best" situation for the Sunset Savanna, in my opinion, would be Leona and Falena working together to see the country's future through. It does not have to be in the capacity of king and advisor; titles do not matter here. What is most important is that Leona and Falena can meet on neutral grounds and agree to put their all into improving the Sunset Savanna.

[ghostlygraphist]

ai generated mushroom guides could get people killed

'i'm not going to link any of them here, for a variety of reasons, but please be aware of what is probably the deadliest AI scam i've ever heard of: plant and fungi foraging guide books. the authors are invented, their credentials are invented, and their species IDs will kill you"

"update: i keep getting annoyed that the QTs are like "if this is true, it's horrifying" ..but you're right, you don't know me from a hole in the ground and you SHOULD worry about the veracity of anything you find online."

thread source

so i went looking

the full description:

How to quickly become a confident mushroom forager without fear of misidentifying poisonous lookalikes!

Have you dreamt about becoming more self-sufficient and sourcing your own fresh, local ingredients?

Do you want to start sustainably foraging so you can become healthier and happier?

Have you thought about harvesting wild mushrooms but afraid you won’t be able to tell the edible and poisonous species apart?

Then this book is for you!

Save money and enjoy the delicacies that nature has to offer. Mushroom hunting is easier than you think, and less dangerous than everyone assumes.

Wild plant foraging is increasing in popularity with celebrity chefs and small cafes jumping on the bandwagon and using locally foraged produce in their food.

There are so many benefits of foraging to your health (physical and mental) and even the environment!

In Fearless Foraging in the Rocky Mountains, you’ll discover:

Over 40 species of mushroom you can harvest all year round

Complimentary access to the mobile-friendly Digital Field Guide that includes high-resolution photos and descriptions of all edible mushrooms and any toxic lookalikes so you don’t have to worry about misidentifying species

How to correctly create (and use) spore prints to help you figure out what’s what

An annual mushroom calendar so you can keep track of the mushrooms by season and make the most of each foraging season

Detailed descriptions of the anatomical properties of fungi - gain the essential knowledge you need to correctly identify species

Tips on sustainable foraging - and ways to increase the natural mushroom count for next time you visit!

And much more!

Foraging is a tradition upheld for centuries by indigenous people who used ancient, respectful principles to live off the land. Connect with that history by embracing the artful skills and knowledge to confidently collect food for your meals.

Even if you're still worried about toxic mushrooms, let this guide reassure you. Included are incredibly high-level descriptions and details to use so you don’t get it wrong. NOTE: To keep it economically prices, our paperback version is printed in black and white. Premium color is available in our hardcover version. Both will provide the quality necessary to identify wild mushrooms and plants and both come with access to the full color, high-resolution Digital Field Guide.

If you want to learn the skillful art of foraging mushrooms and enjoy nature's nutritious bounties then scroll up and click the “Add to Cart” button now.

end description

wild harvest publications... no named author? i n t e r e s t i n g

"To keep it economically prices" hmm *the design is very human meme*

this book that promises highly detailed descriptions doesn't even have color images unless you pay a premium

"Mushroom hunting is easier than you think, and less dangerous than everyone assumes." hmm. hmmmmm. yeah the government definitely put out those 'if you don't know what it is don't put it in your mouth' PSAs for no reason

tldr don't buy foraging guides off amazon if you can't locate a human author and verify their credentials yourself

[sfehvn]

intruder

Part 2 | Part 3

Description: A year has since came and went following Astarion's ascension ritual. He is no longer himself, but then... Where is he? Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 1,717 Characters: ascended!Astarion x Tav

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Tears threatened to spill as you gazed upon the man before you. One that you so loved, so craved; one that you have proven loyalty to time and again. Nervous fingers fiddled with the luxurious silk that adorned your body. The material was something you had always eluded before. When your heart was still pumping and breathing was a necessity. You didn’t have much use for those actions anymore, yet you still felt the deep red gown to be constricting.

“My, red really is your color, isn’t it darling?” Astarion’s words encouraged your eyes to wilt towards the floor in submission.

“Yes, love.” They didn’t sound like your own anymore, regardless you still spoke. A gnawing ache permanently etched into your chest as you had come to realize. How long have you been doing this dance with him now? Time was simply a construct of another time for you. One reserved for your long-gone, rosy-cheeked self. Your heart weighed heavier than you could comprehend these days.

Your master’s pale fingers effortlessly land under your chin leading your eyes to his own. His brow furrowed with indignation, you assume at least. “What’s got you down?” He questions, eyes never faltering. You wanted to laugh, though you didn’t; of course. What a ridiculous question it was. You could have prepared a book on the things that are wrong.

The ridiculously lavish gowns you are confined to, for starters. So different from the armor that had once adorned your body when you had first met the fearful spawn. The complete lack of your feelings. The fact that you weren’t allowed to freely-think any longer. Astarion would argue that letting you pick the color of the sheets in the bed-chamber was sufficient enough. You missed the daylight. When light flooded from the doors of the manor, you fantasized of running out. Of making a bed out of the fresh flowers blooming in Baldur’s Gate and basking in the warmth of the rays above. Parts of you longed for it no matter the banishment those same rays would cast on you.

“I’m fine.” You utter instead, a weak smile splaying saddeningly across your face. The lack of attention from Astarion in the past months had taken its toll. Mind convinced he no longer wanted you for love as you had desired. The reason you had given your life to remain in the shadows for its eternity.

“Do not lie to me, darling.” He spoke firmly, a gentle thumb brushing your surely paled cheek. Instinctively your eyes shut and you lean into the touch yearningly. “What is wrong?” It came more as a demand but you were too distracted to comprehend his words. It had been so long since he had shown you the attention he showers you with now. Too long. A soft sigh escapes your lips as his free hand comes up to rest on your shoulder, cold fingertips caressing your cold neck, lingering over the raised flesh of scar tissue.

“I miss the sun.” You spoke hesitantly, your eyes fluttering to meet him once more. He nodded in encouragement, a silent word spoken for you to continue. “I miss being able to come and go as I please.” Your words became more confident. “And I hate this dress.” This elicited an amused chuckle from Astarion.

“What else, pet?” 

“I miss you Astarion. Most days I can’t tell if you’re bored with me or not. I am reduced to shadows while you galavant over Baldur’s Gate. I-”

His eyes hardened, an indication to you that you had spoken too freely. “Galavant.” He sneered in distaste, releasing his hold on your chin and dropping his hand from your shoulder. “You think what I’ve been doing is galavanting? I work, without thanks, might I add. I did this for you. To ensure you can have a comfortable existence. To ensure you would never have to put yourself in harm's way again. So that we could spend eternity together. As we are fated.” The distaste in his words seared you.

This was a mistake you had decided. “Right, I’m sorry.” Quiet and meek, you pondered if he knew exactly how frightened you had become of his ruling hand. He had never hit you, no. He did not need to. You felt like another pawn in his game, and here you had let your guard falter just for him to bare his teeth again. Sleep, eat, fuck. That was the comfortable existence you were to live. If this was fate, she had a cruel and unkind hand played to you.

“The dress is nice on you.” Astarion added flatly. “The least you could do is be grateful and wear it without complaint. That is your duty. You look the part, you act the part. That includes not sulking around the manor and ruining my good day.” He sneered, his previously sweet demeanor gone. “I expect you to help me greet our guests. They will be here soon. You will not embarrass me with your sour mood and you will be a dutiful hostess tonight.” Without another word he leaves the bed chamber.

Stinging tears pooled in your eyes. You often wondered if your Astarion was still in there. The one who speaks charmingly to you when he does, the one who touches you sweetly to allow you the briefest moment of comfort and relief in his presence. Or has he just become an expert at fiddling with your strings, at manipulating you to get exactly what you’re thinking out of you. You suppose that is more likely. Astarion had often said the old him died the day of the ritual, something you had chalked up to a figure of speech until recently. 

The old Astarion really did die that day, and you were stuck with a monster who moved about in his beautiful skin. You know that now.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“You were a good girl tonight.” Astarion delights as the two of you prepare to rest. His body bare, while yours is adorned in the finest nightgown the gold in his pockets can buy. You say nothing as you blindly pull each pin out of your hair. Running your fingers through the strands you discover another pin. Your maid had done an intricate updo in preparation for her master’s guests earlier in the evening, and you had only wished there was a way for you to admire her handiwork. Suddenly a pair of strong hands are on your shoulders. “I believe a reward is in order.”

You stiffened. “Something I receive every night can hardly be viewed as a reward.” You mull as you begin brushing through your hair. The grip on your shoulders tighten in contempt and just as quickly, they loosen.

“Tav?” Fear stricken words grace your ears, and you can’t help but turn quickly, his hands dropping to his sides. Astarion was never fearful. Not anymore. Your eyes are wide with confusion, desperation as your eyes shift over Astarion’s face. “Gods, what has he done to you?” Your stomach sinks. For a split second, you think of just how sickly you may look.

“A-Astarion?” You sputter, wide eyed. His eyes held an admiration you hadn’t seen since the ritual had taken place, since the Astarion you loved dearly had fallen prey to his own quest for power.

His knees buckled beneath his weight, head bowing into your lap. “What have I done?” His body shakes as sobs erupt from him, back rising and falling with each heartbreaking sound emanating. Naturally your hands reach for him, hands splayed over the deep scars on his back. Your own tears stream silently down your cheeks, unable to comprehend whatever is going on.

“Astarion… Is it you?” Carefully spoken, afraid of being deceived once more. What if this was some sort of sick test? What if you're banished to your bed chamber for two months again? You can’t do that again… You won't.

His head lifts slowly, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “It’s me, my darling. It’s me.” It is spoken brokenly, voice cracking in defeat. “I’m not sure how long I have. I, gods, I’m so sorry.”

“Wait, what do you mean? Please don’t leave me again Astarion.” The thought of being punished pushed to the back of your mind. This is him. You both grabbed at each other with sorrowful hands. “What do you mean you don’t know how long you have?” Louder than you expected, desperation oozing from every word. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I’ve no choice.” Astarion’s voice is weak. “I’ve been trying to break through since the ritual, love. He…” He trails for a moment, “He’s too strong.” He shakes his head, disgust evident on his tongue. “I’m so sorry, my love.” He begins, stating his apologies over and over again, as if he was stuck in a melancholic daze.

  “Where will you go- where are you?” The tears sting at your eyes again, moving down your face and you don’t bother brushing them away, feverishly lavishing in every second you have left with him. “Are you in pain?” You ask shakily.

“I’m here. I’m not in control.” He shakes his head, eyes distant. “It’s dark. The only pain I feel is being away from you.” Infinitely succumbing to darkness, the very thing Astarion had wanted to avoid. His body has become a vessel for something evil. “I can’t-” The words were painful as he seemed to struggle internally.

There is a brief flash of pain upon his face before that same face of contempt reappears. His eyes are dark and he swiftly stands to his feet. He would not kneel to you. Perhaps it was because he had been bested by the soul that lurks deep in his depths, the embarrassment too great, he simply leaves the bed chamber.

You’re left disoriented. You were momentarily glad that the other Astarion wouldn’t punish you for the indiscretion of indulging the spawn that had fought his way out of the darkness for a juncture, perhaps it would come at a later time.

Your mind was plagued, but at the forefront was your love. Suspended in time, in darkness, alone.

[lurkingshan]

Last Twilight Episode 12

A month ago, I never could have predicted that I’d be sitting here trying to assemble some thoughts to explain how on earth this show went so badly off the rails. I am truly taken aback by where this story landed, and I advise anyone who wants to think of it fondly to just pretend it ended at episode 9, and even skip the finale if you haven’t watched yet. Before I get into it, let me just start with a word of praise for the cast, who did a great job with their performances and kept this show afloat when the writing fell apart. And boy, did it fall apart.

In my view, this narrative had three main threads it was addressing: 1) Day’s journey to accepting his disability; 2) unresolved family trauma; and 3) Mhok and Day’s romance. And in the end, it failed on all three of them. I am going to dig into this and I am not feeling particularly nice, so if this is going to hurt your feelings I suggest you stop reading now. 

Day’s Journey

Just…wow. We have been afraid of this turn the entire time and trying to hold out hope that the show would not go there, but here we are. I started laughing out loud when we got to the end of part 3 and Mhon’s phone went off with an alert for a new eye donor, and then just stared incredulously at my screen as we time skipped AGAIN to a Day whose vision had been restored for years (last week I joked to @bengiyo and @waitmyturtles that once a drama starts using time skips it becomes addictive and they never stop, and—welp!). What was this entire show for? Why did we spend twelve episodes with Day grieving his vision loss, learning how to cope, and finally accepting his blindness only to completely undercut it at the end? The first part of the finale was so much about how he was thriving—finding a new career for himself and becoming self-sufficient and growing so much on his own—only to give us an ending that implied he could not actually have his happily ever after without his vision restored. 

And this is in fact the message they sent by coupling the return of his vision with the return of he and Mhok’s relationship, and giving us a happy ending rooted in his contentment at having his sight back. They even went back to the Last Twilight mountain to completely tarnish the thematic resonance of the original scene. Calling back to the beautiful memory of Day “seeing” the sunset and experiencing “a moment so good that you feel like you can live there forever” as he accepted his disability with this scene of him seeing the real sunset with his restored vision was so hurtful to me that I actually got angry. Day didn’t need his vision back to get a happy ending, and I absolutely hate what this communicates about disabled people’s capacity to live happy and fulfilling lives. This show has created many writing sins but this is the most unforgivable to me.

Family Trauma

The show began dropping the ball on this one a few weeks ago, but this finale put the nail in the coffin. We spent most of this episode at Porjai and Night’s wedding, an event that might have felt meaningful if the show had let us see any of their romance. I’m grateful to Mark Pakin and Namtan Tipnaree for their beauty and charisma because it’s the only thing that made me care about those scenes at all. Rather than actually being about them, however, this wedding was used primarily as a clunky vehicle to deliver heavy-handed messages about “second chances” to encourage Day to get back together with Mhok (more on that in the next section). 

I did enjoy the brief nods in this episode to the brothers continuing to have newfound harmony in their relationship, but where the show really lost me was in their attempt to bring Night and Day’s dad back into the mix and imply some sort of resolution between him and Mhon. Mhon, a woman whose perspective on their split we never actually saw, whose motivation for her choices and behavior toward her sons were completely elided by the narrative, who was forgiven and made peace with offscreen during a time skip. I was never given the chance to understand her or what this relationship meant to her in the first place, so why would I care about these scenes with her making her peace with this man? I continue to be so confused about where this show chose to spend its time, and why someone with Aof’s track record on developing strong and narratively important familial relationships dropped the ball so much with her. 

The Romance

Okay, let’s get into it, and remember what I said about not reading if this is going to hurt your feelings! My criteria for considering a romance successful is I have to believe the relationship is mutual, beneficial to both of the pair, and that the couple is prepared to weather future challenges. Last Twilight’s romance fails on all three fronts, and it all comes down to the total imbalance in the relationship that persisted right through the final scenes.

This entire narrative has been Mhok bending to Day’s will, giving Day what he needs, forgiving him for everything, and letting him make all the decisions about the relationship, and the finale was regrettably more of the same. In episode 11, Mhok made a mistake when he lied to Day about turning down the job in Hawaii. But he made that mistake out of grief and fear, and Day didn’t care—he unfeelingly rejected him and his pain and ended their relationship without a second thought. That was potentially forgivable as a momentary lapse borne out of instinctual hurt, and could have been repairable had Day reconsidered soon after and extended Mhok some grace. But in this episode, we find out Day blocked Mhok and refused to communicate with him again after that night, and has left Mhok completely in the cold for three years after he failed to be perfect one (1) time.

And this episode? Was on Day’s side in this conflict. Mhok is the one to return and start pursuing Day again. Mhok is the one to broach the topic of their breakup. Mhok is the one to thank Day for breaking his heart and tell him he did nothing wrong (y’all, I almost threw something at the screen). Mhok’s grief and trauma go completely unaddressed in this finale until they try to play the Rung card for one last moment of sentiment. Day cries to his mother about how he just doesn’t know if he can forgive Mhok. And in the end, Mhok makes the grand gesture, missing his flight to go to Day and stay in Thailand with him despite the successful life he has built in Hawaii.

The cognitive dissonance I felt watching this play out was extreme. I rarely see a writer misunderstand their own characters and relationship conflict so thoroughly. In order to believe in this romance we needed to see Day finally show some empathy for Mhok, take responsibility for his own mistakes, and be the one to make an effort this time. We needed to believe that Day has the capacity to be a supportive partner to Mhok even when he’s struggling. But Day didn’t demonstrate any of that, and so I simply don’t believe in this relationship. I don’t believe Mhok can trust Day not to abandon him again when some other major life event intervenes and Mhok is less than perfect. And that’s a shame, because the show really almost had something here with these two. 

And that’s all I got. What a disappointment this show turned out to be. If you need me, I will just be over here in my little corner imagining the Night and Porjai romcom that we never got and pretending the rest of this show ended several weeks ago.

[pursuitseternal]

“The Fourth Day” of Bats, Blood, and Mirror Smut in “Antics of the Newly Ascended”

Ascended Astarion x Reader |E| 2.3K of Batstarion and Self-indulgent mirror sex

Summary: He’s late to arrive back, and then you hear… scratching at your window. Bat nibbles and head scritches quickly shift into other sensual indulgences. Ones that allow him to experience other benefits to his ascension… and to your own pleasure.

CW: “Right Hand” puns, Batstarion bites, cunilingus, mirror sex, Extra Emphatic performance from the Ascendant cause he likes the way he looks, “oh yes, I see what all the fuss is about”

Previous Ch | Ao3 Link | Masterlist

A gift for @icybluepenguin

🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞🦇🪞

You lay in your bed, tossing and turning. Waiting for Astarion to return. The camp needed supplies—potions and scrolls and armor. And it was Astarion’s turn to go fetch, even as he had grumbled how beneath him it was as the Ascendant.

Of course, Wyll had only laughed all the harder, shoving the purse of coin in his pale hands and slamming the door on his ass. The goods had been sent ahead by a maid from the Elfsong’s tavern, the Ascendant adding in the message delivered along with the bundle that he would return anon, once he deemed his presence sufficiently missed.

That was hours ago… Now even sleep sounded good. Long, lonely sleep. With him somewhere out there in the dark of night.

Your stomach swirls, knowing he is powerful, knowing he is experienced in how to care for himself, but… you have so many enemies now. So many assassins and monsters and soldiers. The list of beings that wanted you dead seems to grow ever bigger.

He shouldn’t have gone alone.

Stupid, arrogant, exalted idiot.

Every sound in the tavern, every creak on every floor reaches your ears. And it’s not your heightened vampiric senses.

You’re worried. For as much as he preens and postures and bites and drinks, you can see it plainly with your eyes and your heart. You see what others can’t since his Ascension.

He’s still just the same, poor at planning, smooth brained rogue. Good with his hands, silken with his words, bad at anything to do with plots or logic or calculations or…

A soft scritch scratch at the window made you sit up from your good- humored, condescending musings.

Something… big… rests against the panes of glass. You look closer. Something largish and fluffy and… white.

“My dear consort, let me in…” he speaks in that way that caresses your mind with his own.

“You have got to be kidding, Astarion. Are you stuck again…”

“No, not stuck. I am positively famished. I need to rest, to feed, before I can use my magic to return to the handsome body you know and crave and worship….”

“Pfft,” you roll your eyes. “So you need help, is that it… mighty Vampire Ascendant?”

“You wound me, my darling…. My treasure…” he flaps against the glass again. His little claws scratch so hard as he grows clearly more and more agitated. “My right hand…” he purrs so silkenly.

You cross from the bed, your body naked as you stroll so slowly towards his blurred shadow on the other side of that pane. “It’s funny, my love, that night you offered me this…” you pause to flourish your hand the same way he had, “gift of immortality… I didn’t realize by your Right Hand, you meant things so literally.”

That made him flutter harder and bang his little bat feet against the window. “I swear when I do get in there… when I do finally feed and shift back… I’ll make that right hand do so much more for me than opening this fucking window….”

You laugh…. So adorable. So dramatic and ridiculous. So… him. “You should see yourself, my love. I suppose II would miss you if I should leave you so… indisposed.”

You cackle, reaching for that handle. The instant a gap was big enough, he flapped his way inside. Circling on his beautiful, membranous wings, you feel the wind brush your hair away before he lands on the back of your shoulder. His itty, bitty fingers hook onto the crest of your back, the only warning you get before you feel his small razor fangs bite into your neck.

So much smaller than normal, you gasp in surprise more at the sensation of warm fur on your skin. His little claws hook tightly, and his quiet breath snuffles beneath your ear as he drinks. You reach your hand around, his little ears twitching as you blindly brush them, scratching one finger in that small space at the top of his head. His mouth still contentedly suckles on your blood.

Tingles of magic wash down your back, and suddenly your hand raises with the top of his head, that silken mess of curls wrapped around your finger. Lips replace bat teeth, the wide span of his warm tongue swirls lazily over the teeny marks he’s left.

“Now… about that defiant, rebellious right hand of yours,” he rasps against the sensitive spot behind your ear.

“Oh…. This little thing?” you taunt, wickedly, childishly, gripping that bulge between his legs from behind you. The “oof” that comes from his smirking mouth is music to your ears. You spin smoothly, pivoting your grip on his cock, and you give it just a few hard strokes to make it harden under your touch.

It doesn’t take much. It never has. He bucks against your palm. One of his elegant, long-fingered hands clutches underneath your chin, dragging your lips for him to consume. You taste the blood on his tongue, feel his hunger mixed with yearning. The way his tongue dances with yours hides nothing of the want you were so quick to incite in him.

You lose your breath as he shoves you against the wall. Moonlight floods from behind him, his sharpened face barely lit in the shadow. But those curls, ravaged by the winds of flying, mussed from his shifting, those silver-white curls sit like a halo in the pale light. Left hand closing around your right, he presses it against the wall, a silent command to hold still. Very still.

A single kiss on your lips, a rakish arch to his brow, and he drops to his knees. His hands force your leg over his shoulder so quickly, you have to grip that wall behind you, caught only by the way he shoves his shoulder under your thigh. His face already presses hard into your mound, fingers already prying your folds wide for his tongue to lap. Careful, you use your left hand to comb through his curls, riding the circling of his head as he licks through your seam.

The same sort of little noises come from between your thighs, little low hums of feeding, muffled grunts amidst the wet suck of his tongue on your clit. Your hips buck, catching on his nose, his hands keeping that new angle for him to push deeper into that wet.

You pound your right hand into the wall, a closed fist, and your legs shake. He drives you closer and closer, pools of heat and lightning racing to your belly and down your nerves. He laughs into your cunt, fingers slipping into your channel from somewhere below your ass. You can’t see, can only feel that rhythmic lap and suck of his perfect tongue and thick smirking lips. But those fingers crook hard to catch your spot, that itch he knows how to scratch and make you shatter.

You pant, riding the brush of his nose on your clit and the suck of his tongue as he devours you even in climax.

“Fuck me…” you groan, head smacking against the wall as you raise your hips even higher. His hands hold you firm, even as your legs twitch and threaten to go boneless in your orgasm.

“Oh yes, darling, I am about to do just that,” he stands to rasp into your ear. “You did say… if only I could see myself… a delightful suggestion, my pet. Come now,” he purrs, “but you will only use those defiant hands of yours as I see fit. And…”

He flips you around, drags you across the room to the corner, until you’re staring at your own reflection. The simple wooden-framed mirror shows every pale line of your bodies as one. You can barely tell where your soft curves melt into the edges of every hardened rise of him behind you in the moonlight. “…you’re going to watch ever little way I fuck you…”

“You mean you’re going to watch every little way you fuck…”

His hand reaches from behind you, clawing around your mouth and twisting to bring your ear against his smirking lips. His crimson eyes lock into yours in that reflection, a matching color. “Well, it was your suggestion, my love, since we both have been given such a gift. And I haven’t yet seen how ruinous I am in this process…”

“Tch,” you suck your teeth, a humored and condescending shake of your head. “Fine… it is a sight to behold. And after all, these days are about you discovering yourself, indulging in your powers.”

“And I’m so grateful it’s you who enables my indulgences, my darling,” his silken voice croons. His tongue visibly sticks out to run that warm, wet pad up the curve of your ear.

His gaze watches yours flutter, your body shivering involuntarily as you want more. “Bend,” he growls into those little circles and folds of your ear. His grip fastens on your wrist, making you reach for the wall beside you, turning you sideways to that shimmering mirror glass. You look through the messy curtain of your hair, watching in that reflection as his hand smooths down the vertebrae of your spine, his other grips and pumps his cock. That hard, veined length dripping onto the floor, twitching relentlessly as he catches your eye with a wicked grin.

“You keep those insolent hands where I can see them, darling, and you… will… watch me.” His voice drops into a deep-throated growl, his head cocked back, hips bucking into his fist. Even as he clutches the cheek of your ass, his sharp nails finding purchase, drawing blood to the surface as he marks you.

His. Forever.

Fingers leave your skin, pulling back that long, tousled mess of your hair so you can obey him.

So you can watch.

Watch as he lines himself up with your entrance, watch as he drags that blunted tip, forcefully and slowly back and forth through your slick. Watch as his hand beats his shaft against your folds, smearing your arousal up and down his velvety smooth skin as he does so.

It’s… burning in your belly, the way he’s licking his lips, stare alternating between watching his body in the mirror and your eyes drinking in his every sensual stroke.

You can’t look away, watching him shut his eyes, head thrown back in pleasure, arching as he sheathes himself until you feel that brush of his balls against you. You want to shudder and hang your head, instantly filled and throbbing and so… very… full.

“Don’t you disobey me, pet,” he hisses. “Best keep watching, or else…” Eyes still shut, he groans in deep delight as he pulls out once more only to grip your hips and shove inside again.

Deeper. Harder. More punishing. Fangs bared, he smirks down to watch his perfect shaft entering you, a slow beating rhythm to the snaps of his hips. Every little ripple of muscles in his body, you get drunk on the sight of him. Even that slight gleaming slick on his cock that you see, that base of his shaft as it glistens before it disappears to ram you full again. It makes your mouth water.

He picks up the pace now, your body so warm and wet from how he pleasured you. He smiles at himself, tilting his head back towards the mirror. You can feel it, the extra undulations of his body, a little extra shove, a little harder buck of his hips to make your ass slap hard on his body.

A performance of pleasure just for him.

Deep, subtle pants leave his gaping mouth with each thrust, his eyes watching the way his own flawless, ruinous body clenches as he fucks. Every tweak of his abs, every clench of his ass, you can see his eyes dart in the mirror to savor the sight.

You laugh, well, barely laugh. As breathless as you are, riding every pummel into your cunt, you manage to speak. “Careful, or I’ll have to get a blindfold if you can’t stop watching yourself…”

“Oh darling, I finally see what all the fuss is about,” he pants between his words. And you hear it, that edge to his voice, reckless and uncontrolled. His words catch in his throat just as stilted as his thrusts become.

Hard and random and rough.

Your cervix grows numb, your channel walls so swollen, so hot. Pounded over and over again until he finally groans and folds over you. Arms yank you back against him by your hips, slamming your body against his wild bucks. You watch that magnificent reflection as he unravels, how his knees buckle as he comes.

How his seed spills so hard from his cock deep inside you, it’s already dripping to the floor at your feet. The sight of sweating pale skin and undulating muscles bent over for you… you shatter too. And it makes another groan, a whimper come from where he’s laid his head on your back, just below your shoulder blades. Your walls milk him of every last drop, your own arousal joining the mess on the floor beneath your feet.

Breathless, your arms shake, still extended towards the wall. A naughty grin on your mouth as he looks at your lust-hazed eyes and tousled hair. His face is a matching set of post-coital mess and beauty.

You reach that right hand of yours between your legs, slowly, delicately teasing over your own slick clit, drenched in both your cum. Stroking further to brush the soaked base of his cock that is still buried inside you, he nips into the skin of your back, not hard enough to break the skin.

Just enough to make you look again in that mirror.

“Your right hand is forgiven… I’ll allow it…” he purrs one more time.

His crimson gaze still looks hazy and dunk on that sight of you coupled. And you wonder if he will ever let you stand.

[artbyblastweave]

🔥the boys (tv)

🔥the birdcage (worm)

The Boys: I get the impression that the tide is beginning to turn against The Boys due to whatever went down in the most recent season, which I have not yet seen. But I'm holding the line that the first two seasons and change are really really good superhero fiction.

The Birdcage: I think the birdcage is best understood as part of an ongoing conversation about how superhumans, if real, would be resistant to basically every form of social sanction, under every possible form of government, that they personally did not agree to be subject to, because they're just that much more agentic than regular people. And a lot of superhero fiction either depicts capes as moral paragons who're never going to need to be subject to severe social sanction because they're too darn good, so just don't worry about it, or as total assholes where you don't need to worry about the incredibly extreme measures that have to be taken to get them to do stuff that they don't want to do- problems to be solved rather than moral objects. When I was younger and dumber I blew a shitload of time and gave countless discord mods headaches arguing about the moral implications of the birdcage from within the Watsonian frame that the story was a self-consistent reality that should be engaged with as presented. These days I've thrown up my hands, and landed somewhere on the spectrum that the point of the birdcage in the story is that even if you can imagine a way to do the birdcage non-horribly, it would not be done that way- that one of the ways in which superheroes would be bad is that it would result in stuff like the birdcage happening, that regardless of whether you can justify the use of the birdcage on sufficiently dangerous individuals it would overall be a ratchet towards cultural authoritarianism that can't really get walked back.

[serpentarii]

M O R D L U S T ; september 22nd, 2024

finally getting around to doing these more often now that i'm making money moves in the draft (this is a lie, i am making moves into my friends' dms to scream) so that means i have an excuse to make self-indulgent WIP edits.

my primary protagonist vératre, formerly known as voir, has been made sufficiently weird, and i think i've found a way to smoothly integrate all of the new scenes i added when i reformatted her half of the plot.

i've also been in my overthinking era to make sure that everything from color symbolism, animal motifs, to the specific variations of words characters use has a purpose. 90% of it will not be apparent in the actual draft so, to paraphrase myself, i'm like gay sisyphus opening and closing notion.

but, i do plan on making some character aesthetic intros, tv show edits, and finally getting around to that animal symbolism post 🐯

transcript below the cut:

Pale blue light flooded into the crate as the lid was pried off, then abruptly overturned, sending Aleksander tumbling out between a set of familiar armchairs. His attention traveled up the front of a familiar desk and landed at an unsmiling familiar face.  Sitting quietly on the other side of the desk was Lady Kos, regal as a queen and ten times wealthier, with pearl droplets woven into her dark braids, dressed in chiffon and lace from trailing hem to high, starched collar.  She was melting wax, her movements swift and assured as she poured a small pool onto the folds of an envelope and stamped it with a sigil Aleksander knew to dread. She took a sip of riesling, soundlessly replacing her glass onto the wood, before setting her sights on him.  “Herr Aleksander Fox,” she said at last. 

and since i haven't done this in like 4 years, surprise bitch. i'm doing a novel prep tag in here now.

first look ;

describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch) ;

a businessman-turned-thief finds himself entangled with a pair of opposing assassins and the roles they unknowingly play in a much grander conspiracy.

how long do you plan for your novel to be (novella, standalone, series, etc.)? ;

a standalone, thank god. the technically term would be roman fleuve, since i am planning future standalone works that take place within the same universe.

what is your novel’s aesthetic? ;

ancient buildings overtaken by nature, cemeteries at midnight, poisonous flowers, venomous snakes, whispering in shadowy alcoves, masquerade balls, bloodstained feathers, veiled truths

what other stories inspire your novel? ;

the his dark materials series by philip pullman, uprooted by naomi novik, classic gothic lit, fairy tales in general, and uh,,,,,,,exodus.

share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel ;

main character ;

who is your protagonist? ;

my two main protagonists/POVs are liferuiner and wannabe businessman aleksander fox, and vératre, a notorious poisoner struggling her way through a quarter-life crisis.

who is their closest ally? ;

aleksander's closest ally, at least in the beginning, is his friend heidi, an information broker with a secret :) and vératre begrudgingly accepts the help of salicaire, another assassin, since they are both nosy and want answers.

who is their enemy? ;

aleksander vs. the ospirin family (a fight he is nawt winning) and the church

what do they want more than anything? ;

so, to be cryptic, 3/4 of the leads in mordlust are all reflections of each other, what they could have been and what they want to be. the last of them is the mirror. they see in him what they want to see. and what they want, shockingly, is prestige, power, belonging, etc. they've always felt like strangers in their own skin and will go to terrible lengths to fit themselves into a society that was not made for them.

why can’t they have it? ;

dirty dirty politics for which they are mere pawns ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

what do they wrongly believe about themselves? ;

that because they've been hurt, they are justified in hurting others in pursuit of their goals.

draw your protagonist! (or share a description) ;

aleksander is a classic dandy with a hyperfixation on his vintage fox fur coat, which he wears even when it's wildly out of season and out of fashion because it's the nicest thing he owns. he's also usually seen wearing kid leather gloves and a golden cravat pin he received from his patroness. he's got green eyes, short auburn hair, lots of freckles, and more people would find him handsome if he didn't smile like he knew your fly was down and was refusing to tell you.

vératre's lips are stained purple due to. reasons. and so she wears a veil, which is not uncommon for particularly devout women. she has medium length brown hair she keeps pinned up into tight plaits and a notably long neck. also, she has pretty privilege because shits fucked and having attractive lay servants representing the house/church is common practice. since she works as a kitchen maid most of the week, she's often wearing her uniform w/ an apron. and sometimes she wears isme's black feathered cloak.

drawing wise, i do have this chart, courtesy of alex @bitethebard:

plot points ;

what is the internal conflict? ;

aleksander and vératre, being parallels of each other, have somewhat similar internal conflicts. they both came from nameless villages out in the countryside and share a burning desire to be more. in vératre's case it's v much a "be careful what you wish for" situation, because in receiving everything she thought she wanted she's no longer herself and unhappier than ever. aleksander is younger and earlier along in his journey, but barreling down the same path. except the choices he makes fucks shit up for the people around him more than they effect himself.

what is the external conflict? ;

again, cutthroat politics (literally). everyone has something they'd kill for.

what is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist? ;

other than dying horribly, probably being tethered to an uncaring master, praying to uncaring gods, and trying to find comfort in an uncaring church for the rest of their miserable lives.

what secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story? ;

aleksander is entangled in a pseudo-liar revealed plot, which i kinda hate, but as an extremely unreliable narrator his priorities are not in proper order... vératre is witnessing the horrors.

do you know how it ends? ;

yeah

bits & bobs ;

what is the theme? ;

blind faith is dangerous. you must learn to take responsibility for both the good and the bad actions you take, and attaching yourself to someone or something at random to validate your own existence isn't healthy. holiness exists not only in gods but in small moments of happiness and in the people we love. and lastly don't fucking steal someone's skin and sell it on the black market.

what is a recurring symbol? ;

thorns.

where is the story set? (share a description!) ;

niederbrinn, the capital city of falkenreik, which is loosely inspired by pre-german empire prussia. it's filled with tons of gothic™ architecture and fun locations like cathedrals, catacombs, and creature shops. it's situated closer to the malevolent eldritch forest than most would like.

do you have any images or scenes in your mind already? ;

hell yeah

what excited you about this story? ;

mostly isme. and then the other 3 protags ig 🙄

tell us about your usual writing method! ;

these days, i usually write a rough outline and expand it using the snowflake method, incorporating ideas, themes, and worldbuilding along the way. then i make a proper outline where i figure out chapters, acts, the dreaded midpoint, etc. i don't write in chronological order so this helps a ton with out-of-context lines since i have a reference for where i want them based on the location/emotional state of the characters. getting myself to actually sit down and WRITE the damn thing is the problem, shout out to my fellow procrastinating perfectionists <33

if you made it to this point you are sexy and i love you, byeeee !!

[formulaforza]

miss americana & the heartbreak prince masterlist

charles leclerc x female oc —what's the point of it all if you're not going to fall madly in into love?

—00. prologue

playlist social media au teaser orange show speedway

—01. all american girl

"“Because.” He doesn’t really know why he can’t land on a message, why everything he types sounds entirely too casual or formal or nothing at all like what he would say to another human being. This isn’t a problem that he’s used to having. It’s the in-person flirting that fucks him up, not the texts and DMs and comments. She was just… he doesn’t know what she was. She was just. End of sentence."

—01.5 hey google, who is christyn elliott?

—02. over the ocean call

"Chris has one student, Quinn, whose family can’t afford reduced lunch prices but also won’t request for Quinn to qualify for the free lunch. She thinks it’s an ego thing, that Quinn’s mom just isn’t able to accept that the family needs help. It’s a single parent household and the mom works two full-time jobs to try and make ends meet. After a newsletter was sent home in need of parent signatures at the beginning of the year and returned with Mama written in sloppy green crayon, Chris learned that Quinn was living a relatively self-sufficient life. As self-sufficient as a five-year-old can be." 

—02.5 like real people do

—03. i think i fell in love today

"If there wasn’t something weird in the air before, there certainly is now. A new weird. A good weird. An implication of something in the air, weird. It’s out there now, just hanging above them. I want to kiss you. You can kiss me. Now all that’s left is for one of them to make the move."

—03.5 do the girls back home touch you like i do?

—04. every finger, every sigh

"She can feel eyes on her. Charles, she hopes. Charles, she can’t find in the chaos. When she does spot him, half-dead sparkler still in his hand, head drunkenly bobbing along to the beat, he’s looking right at her, grins a stupid grin and winks."

—05. monte carlo ave

"He shakes his head. “You don’t understand.” She can’t possibly understand it because he doesn’t even properly understand it, the way he feels about her. The fear he feels about losing all the indecipherable feelings. It’s just good, everything about her, about being near her. It’s all so sweet and nice and good and he really, really doesn’t want to screw it up."

—05.5 still so much I have yet to know

—06. quarter of the way

"As soon as they reach the cover of the trees, Chris is telling Hannah everything. Everything. She tells her about Austin, about how she met a guy who was just too charming to not get her number. About every nervous text and hours long FaceTime call and every picture and every conversation. She tells her about how crazy she feels, how insane she felt agreeing to fly across the world— “Wait,” Hannah questions. “You flew across the world?”"

—06.5 you're invited! welcome to dawsonville!

—07. homegrown

"It’s a twenty-three minute drive to Pig’n’Chik Barbeque in Northern Atlanta. Charles is visibly apprehensive of the little red building and the parking lot filled with the aroma of southern barbeque, but he keeps his commentary to himself. Chris knows it’s probably a little overkill, the hole-in-the wall joint being even a little too gimmicky for her taste, but that’s the whole point."

—08. it's so sweet

“I’ll be right back,” she says hurriedly, over her shoulder, letting the little girl pull her away. Charles nods and flashes her a quick wink before she’s properly whisked away, leaving him with nothing better to do than shove his hands deep in his pockets and analyze the artwork of primary school students. 

—09. sweet nothing

coming soon

—10. i saw the end

coming soon

—11. the bees envy me

coming soon

—12. if i tremble

coming soon

—13. see the world

coming soon

—14. yours to keep

coming soon

—15. yours to lose

coming soon

—16. the view between villages

coming soon

—17. heaven in your eyes

coming soon

—epilogue. for the worms to eat

coming soon

[sadist1224]

I still want Mafia!141 AU

Part 1 https://www.tumblr.com/sadist1224/742379650222784512/i-need-the-mafia141-au?source=share

I just still want Mafia!141 who are so used to you, your difficult, persistent character and kind heart that they try to help you in everyday life and drag you somewhere on weekends, literally imposing themselves on you. At first you were angry and nervous knowing who they were, but the more you talk to them, the deeper they penetrate into your heart.

Johnny, who seems to have fallen in love with a self-sufficient, harmful and somewhat fearless barmaid from a small bar, who can't help talking about you for a day, which annoys the Ghost, and Gaz only slaps the Scotsman on the shoulder and offers to bring you coffee to work, and at the same time sandwiches.

Price, who is happy that his boys have found entertainment outside of work hours, but still worries that you are sitting too much in their heads.

The hikes of the 141 guys start to attract attention, and at some point there are more visitors in the bar, some of whom are quite intimidating.

A ghost who notices familiar unwanted faces hanging around your work. And the problem is that your neighborhood is small, at the intersection of two streets of the city, is a no-man's land and gangs have been fighting for it for a long time. And 141 and Los Vaqueros may be ready to accept your area as neutral territory, but others are not yet. He immediately reports this to Price, thinking along the way how he can scare other sharks away from this place.

But they have a job again and Price swears that he will take care of you and the bar as soon as he returns from another city.

It's not the first time you've seen new faces in a bar lately, your income has increased significantly, but the two men who came today seem too suspicious to you. One of them is tall in a sniper hood, the other is smaller, wearing sunglasses and a medical mask on his face. Both of them run their eyes around the bar, meeting you at the bar, wiping glasses, and then bumping into Valeria's stern gaze from the opposite corner.

Both choose a quiet corner away from the eyes, and the waitress brings an order for two beers. These two don't cause you any problems throughout the evening.

But a bar shift wouldn't be a bar shift without incident, right?

Therefore, when one of the particularly drunk customers starts harassing one of the waitresses, you can't help but intervene. A few seconds are enough for you to go around the counter of your workplace and walk with quick, firm steps to a group of drunks.

"Come on, we're going to have a lot of fun~" - one of them says, clinging to the waitress's arm with such force that she can't escape them. The girl turns, fixing a pleading look at you, and a moment later a half-empty bottle of rum breaks with a loud sound on the head of one of the men. The others jump up from their seats while their friend falls to the floor.

The one closest to you swings at you with his fist, but you easily dodge him, making a grab and pinning the man to the table, twisting his arm.

To your left, Val has already knocked the third one to the ground with a good punch to the jaw.

"Is there a problem, bastardos? - the brunette does not hesitate to kick one of them in the leg. This is her place, she can. - You are not welcome here."

The waitress girl hides behind you while you watch the drunks trying to get back on their feet. A crowd has formed around you for a long time, but you know for sure that the people around you are on your side.

A group of male regulars pick up the violators by the arms and take them out the door for a "conversation". Valeria, as always, punches you and goes to the bar with a loud phrase in Spanish. Everything is going back to normal.

However, out of the corner of your eye you notice the stares in your direction from those two visitors. You don't like those looks.

It's late at night, when the shift is over and you and Val have said goodbye, you feel the surveillance again. But you know for sure that 141 is not in the city, and if it's not them, then you need to be ready.

You are not a fool and you know that because of your injury you will not be able to handle a direct fight, especially with several opponents. Your strength is enough to defend yourself, but your instincts scream at you to escape and you manage to take off before someone very tall pounces on you from the shadows.

You run well. You run fast. But, unfortunately, not for long, and there is not enough lane map in your head to choose the most acceptable route to your home.

Therefore, when you are finally dropped to the ground, you group up and manage to deliver several blows to the attacker. One in the knee, the second in the stomach under the ribs. This does not save you from a severe blow to the head and darkness in front of your eyes. Well, you've been caught.

[vodika-vibes]

Hi! You posted about maybe writing a scorch fic and wanting an idea, so what about something like retired medic reader who finds scorch after he got shot a bunch of times and fell of a cliff, and they are kind of like “well i not really doing anything” so they take him home where they get to know each other better and then join the clone rebellion as like a way to make amends for all the stuff he did (whether he had a choice or not) when working with hemlock?

Obviously you dont even have to consider this idea, I’m sure whatever you write will be awesome!

Have a great day!

I'm Retired

Summary: You’re a retired military medic. Formerly the medic of the 101st Battalion under Pong Krell, you were forced into early retirement when the Jedi mutilated your leg after you threatened to report him to the Jedi Council for his actions during the war. So you did. You left the Republic and settled on a planet far from the core, bought a dog, a cabin in the woods, and a droid to help you manage everything. The last thing you ever expected was to see a clone again. Still, Fate can be funny in some ways.

Pairing: Pre Clone Commando Scorch x F! Reader

Word Count: 1778

Warnings: None

Tagging: @bad4amficideas @justiceandwar98 @Mira-Loves-Star-Wars @tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstarar @trixie2023 @kimiheartbladeartblade @padawancat97 @falconfeather23435

@etod @n0vqni

A/N: You sent me this idea and it had me in a death grip, so I had to write it! Thank you~

Join my taglist HERE

Life is change. 

Babies change into toddlers, who change into children, who then change into teenagers, and then adults. 

It’s just a fact of life.

Life is change.

And no matter how much you might hate it, you have no choice but to accept it.

Still, your life has been pretty steady since you were forced out of the GAR several years ago.

Not stagnant, because that suggests that you haven’t been improving your home, or yourself, in the last couple of years. But stable. Your cabin is now, wholly, self-sufficient. You don’t need to rely on anyone for food, water, or seeds to grow more food.

Your greenhouse is thriving, as are your animals. And you really only need to visit the local village when you need clothes or other specialty goods that you can’t be assed to make yourself.

This morning, however, you don’t have to go to the village, or to the larger city that is several hours away. 

No, this morning you’re taking the dogs (Burrito, Taquito, and Chorizo) on a nice long walk. It’s a nice day, after all, and the dogs have been cramped in the yard for the last couple of days since the massive storm rolled through several days ago.

You drop your whistle around your neck, so you can call the dogs back to you, and then you open the gate to allow the dogs to tear out of your yard. You trail after them at a much slower pace, sure that they’ll come back to you if you call for them.

Besides, you can’t run anymore anyway.

You trail after the sound of barking dogs, taking your time, though you soon realize that the dogs are leading you toward the lake. You can’t help the sigh that falls from you, at least one of the dogs is going to need a bath if they decide to go swimming.

You start walking a little faster, hoping to stop them before they get into the water, but by the time you arrive at the shore of the lake, all three dogs are in the water.

Unusual.

Taquito hates water.

It’s about that moment that you notice that Chorizo, the largest of the three dogs, is dragging a person. And your heart drops into your stomach. Even from a distance, you can recognize Kartan-class armor.

You lift your comm to your lips, “Peabody, I need you to bring the emergency gurney and the speeder to the lake. Quickly.” You drop the comm back into your pocket after your droid gives his confirmation and your hands curl into fists.

You’re retired. You should bring him to the village doctor to take care of.

Chorizo drags the clone to the shore and the three dogs pull him onto dry land. You see the blaster burns on his armor and you painfully drop to your knees next to him, swiftly removing his helmet to check for a pulse.

His pulse is weak, but it’s there.

Swiftly you remove the rest of his armor, dropping the pieces on the sand next to you as you remove each piece, and then you cut off the top of his blacks. 

Judging by the damage to his armor, he was shot and then fell from a high distance…the mountain most likely, if you had to guess.

But even so, he’s incredibly lucky.

If he had been wearing standard clone armor he’d be dead.

Kartan-class armor is a step above what normal clones wore, after all. More expensive, too.

You hear the speeder pull up, and the sound of Peabody setting up the emergency gurney, and then he’s at your side, helping you back to your feet, before easing the clone onto the gurney and loading him back into the speeder.

You pick up his armor and set it in the backseat, with the dogs, and then climb into the passenger’s seat with a heavy sigh. So much for your retirement.

Oh well. It’s not like you were doing anything anyway.

Scorch wakes up from, what feels like, a very long nightmare.

He doesn’t open his eyes as he wakes, though. For the first time in, what feels like, years he’s not in any pain. His head isn’t aching, and he feels like he’s in control of his body, rather than a passenger.

He’s warm, and lying on a soft bed, and the room he’s in smells like fresh bread…and if this is a dream, he’s not ready to wake up.

And then something cold presses against his hand, and his eyes snap open.

Scorch turns his head to the side and blinks at the black and white dog peering up at him. It whines and bumps Scorch’s hand with his nose again, and without really thinking about it, he lifts his hand and pets the dog on the head.

There’s the sound of heavy footsteps, and slowly Scorch sits up as the door slides the rest of the way open and a woman appears in the doorway. She blinks at him, seemingly unsurprised to see him awake, and then she enters the room properly.

There’s a tray of food floating next to her.

“That’s Taquito,” She says, “He’s a herding dog, and knows he’s not supposed to be in here.”

“He’s a good boy,” Scorch notes, awkwardly.

She smiles at him, it’s a nice smile, “He is. He’s trained as a service dog, I guess that he popped in here because you needed him.” Slowly she sinks into a chair, a pained grimace on her face. That’s about the time he notices the leg brace wrapped around her leg.

“I didn’t mean to take your service dog from you,” Scorch says immediately.

She looks surprised and then shakes her head. “Chorizo is my mobility support dog, but he’s outside right now. I rarely need him in the house.” Lightly, she pushes the tray towards him, “Here, food.”

“Thank you,” Scorch accepts the tray and eagerly picks up a piece of toast, “I’m Scorch, by the way.” He adds, before taking a bite.

She introduces herself and then settles back to watch him eat. “I am, was, a medic for the GAR.” She adds absently. “For the 101st.”

Scorch pauses, “That battalion was wiped out, Doc”

Doc’s smile is slightly bitter, “That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” She then waves her hand, “Anyway, you’re in pretty good shape, all things considered.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re lucky that you have Kartan armor though.” She points out, “If you had any other type of armor, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Or any conversation, for that matter.”

Scorch grimaces, “That close?”

“Yeah, that close.”

“Alright, so how am I?”

“You have scars,” Doc motions to his chest, which now has a lot more starburst scars on it, “Though the majority of the damage came from the fall, you were little more than a bruise for well over two weeks.”

“Well, at least nothing broke?”

“You got lucky.” She repeats, “It’s a miracle that nothing broke. My guess is that you were unconscious when you fell so you didn’t tense up to cause more injuries.”

“...what?”

“Like, when a drunk driver gets into an accident and walks away unharmed.” Doc explains.

“Oh, right.”

She pauses and lightly taps her lower lip, “You weren’t awake to consent to it, but you needed brain surgery.”

“I did?”

She motions to a small jar sitting on the side table, a jar that he didn’t notice until that moment, “I pulled that from your brain. Resting on your brain, rather than in it. I thought, maybe, it was shrapnel at first, but shrapnel doesn’t generally stop and settle on the brain.”

Scorch picks up the small jar and lifts it so he’s able to look at the small piece of metal, “It looks like a computer chip.”

“It does.”

“I had a chip on my brain?!”

Doc gazes at him, consideringly, “It does answer a lot of questions.”

“It does?”

“Questions like, why would the clones turn on their Jedi, en masse, when they’ve been so loyal to them for three years?”

Scorch doesn’t say anything for a moment and then he drops the jar back on the table, “I spent the last year or so feeling like I was a passenger in my own body. No matter how much I tried, I had no control over my actions. Do you think…do all of my brothers have one of these?”

“Probably.” She crosses her arms, “I have to admit, the Emperor did come up with an excellent way to remove the Jedi from the galaxy.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I’m not blind or dumb.” She counters, “Honestly, the Jedi played right into his hands. As soon as they agreed to fight in his war, they lost. It’s so…dumb.”

Scorch falls silent, and his hands curl into fists as he pushes the hover tray away from him, “I killed kids.”

Doc is quiet for a moment, “It’s not your fault.” She finally says.

“It doesn’t matter, I still did it. I pulled the trigger. I killed them.”

“You weren’t in control of your own body.”

“You think that’s going to be any comfort to the families of the kids I killed?” Scorch asks.

She averts her gaze for a moment, and then meets his gaze steadily, “Okay, so what do you want to do?”

“...there has to be some way for me to make amends.”

“Are you looking to make amends, or are you looking to punish yourself?” Doc asks.

“Isn’t it the same thing?”

“No. Not at all.”

“I guess…both. I want to do both.”

Doc rests her chin on the palm of her hand, “I suppose I can make a couple of calls, reach out to some old friends. See if there’s a place for you in the rebellion.”

“...just me?”

“I’m retired.”

Scorch picks up the jar holding the chip and shakes it in front of her, “I can tell.”

She scowls at him, “I took an oath, I wasn’t about to let you die.”

Scorch just shakes the jar a little more.

“Fine! Fine.” She stands with a wince, “I’ll find out if there’s a place for us and the dogs in the rebellion, but I wouldn’t hold your breath. No one wants a half-crippled medic.”

“I do!”

“Eat your damned breakfast, you jackass!”

“Thank you, Doc!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

Scorch watches her limp from the room and then focuses on his meal again, a small grin on his face. Maybe, with her help, he’ll be able to find his pod brothers. Even if she’s going to complain the whole time.

[jackdaw-and-hattrick]

Underland

Next

Ao3

Based loosely off of this:

Damian was a child like many others. He woke up every morning, got ready for the day, and met his teachers for their daily lessons, where he would learn important things about the world and his place in it. Eventually, like all children, he would forget much of what he was taught, but that didn't matter.

There were differences, of course, as there are between all children. For instance, where most children learn their time's tables and how to play a recorder, Damian learned sword fighting and how to disarm a bomb (blindfolded). While some children’s mothers teach their children to be polite to strangers, Damien’s mother taught her little prince how to crush those foolish enough to cross him, for he was not an average little boy. No, Damien was the son of a Demon, and as the son of a Demon, it was his job to rule with an iron fist. He had to be smarter, stronger, and more grown-up, lest he meets his untimely end. There was no time for the son of a Demon to make friends! Friends only made you weak and vulnerable to attacks from behind. Nor was there time for playing; time spent playing was time not spent learning to protect yourself after all.

Still, for as much as Damien was not like other kids, he was still very much so LIKE them, and as much as his mother tried to hammer in her lessons on self-sufficiency and emotional guardedness, he would sometimes disobey. See, there was a pit in the middle of his home, and sometimes when he was meant to be learning how to hide, he would slip into it a journey down, down into the land below, where everything was green and the people walked through the air as easy as breathing. And while it did not come naturally to the little prince, he made many friends down there, like the Ghost-writer, who would show him books of faraway lands and Undergrowth, who let him play in their garden for hours and hours, the deep green vines snaking around his ankles as he danced just out of their reach. His favorite, though, was not Ember or Skulker, or any of the other wonderful and strange denizens of the land, but the King himself, a young man who glowed like starlight and who's crown hung loose about his head. He too understood the pressures of a kingdom, and he would help the little prince whenever he could, be it with training, homework, or finding his way out of Walker’s prison.

The two were the best of friends until one day, Damien’s mother learned what he has been doing while he hid from her. She barred him from ever returning to the pit and the green land below, and warned him that if he did not listen, the pit would take him and he would never return. The little prince loved the land and his friends, but he was scared of never seeing his mother. Time passed, and as he grew, Damien began to forget the green land below. He began to believe that Phantom and Undergrowth and all the other people down there were little more than childhood dreams. Eventually, he left his mother’s home. No more the son of a Demon, now he was the son of a Bat. There was no longer pit at the center of his home. There was no longer a green land below.

So the story should have ended, and would have too, had the little prince’s brother not have come home one day with a boy. The boy, a young man with void black hair and a shirt that hung loose about him, was named Danny. Damien did not know him, but he knew Damien and soon, much that had been buried would come to the surface once again.

Part 2