#new campaign tag time :o

[kellystar321]

.

[caemidraws]

M A S T E R P O S T

[General Tags]

₊˚.⋆ #dnd related art

₊˚.⋆ #comics and other funny things

₊˚.⋆ #tarots, full deck in progress

₊˚.⋆ #pettirossi content*, from full illustrations to session notes

₊˚.⋆ #marsilio (computer, show me pictures of the blorbo)

(*more links for the comic under the cut)

[Useful Links]

The other social

About me

Previous Asks

[Comic (TBA) - Prologue]

Cover | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[How to Support]

RB shop

Comms (CLOSED)

:･⚔ ||| P E T T I R O S S I ||| ⚔･:

[fantasy/horror webcomic written by @jonesylium, illustrated by me]

Inspired by our dnd campaign, the comic follows the events that brought a group of unfortunate characters together, in a city ruled by factions and tall towers, scarred by night runners and obscure legends.

 ⬇  ⬇  ⬇  Find out more on our comic here  ⬇  ⬇  ⬇

Serious business aside...if you ever wondered what's going on in my art or who are the characters I keep drawing without providing any context - you're going to find out (some) more!

⚠️DISCLAIMER⚠️

This is our first experience in the field, as it's the first comic (of more of 3 pages) we've worked on together,,, We just really wanted to make a media with our characters, and while we know it's a wonky attempt, the dnd urge to share blorbos is strong--

(TW list in the FAQ section)

[ ₊˚.⋆ Comic Pages ⋆⁺. ]

Cover | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

[ ₊˚.⋆ Session Notes and More ⋆⁺. ]

⚠️⬇ Spoilers Below ⬇⚠️

Misc | Side Tales | Colors | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

[ ₊˚.⋆ Lore / Asks ⋆⁺. ]

⚠️⬇ Spoilers Below ⬇⚠️

Random Infos 1 | Random Infos 2 | Asks (WIP)

[ FAQ ]

☆ When are we getting new pages?

On every Thursday, at Midnight (Central European Time).

☆ Any trigger warning?

I'll be updating the tw list on here as the comic proceeds.

First chapter: blood, death, scars, burns, gang violence.

☆ Where should we send our asks?

You can send asks to me, @jonesylium or @pettirossiofficial! I'll do my best to reply any question concerning the comic but it'll may take some time in case I need to doodle something or need to wander the woods for 3 days to think about a good reply idk

☆ Who does what????

@jonesylium: writing and lettering (typos)

me: sketching, inking, coloring, crying

☆ Who are the characters???

Andrea [he/him]

Mars [he/him]

Misericordia [they/she]

the Twins (coming soon) [he and she]

Quarzaldo (best name btw) [he/him]

Solvi [she/her]

Toloc [he/him]

Ultima [she/her]

Will [he/him]

⚠️SHORT REF SHEETS COMING SOON⚠️

Special thanks ₊˚.⋆ to who's playing Everyone Else, aka @shaykan

☆ What is a pettirossi? Is it something you can eat or what

It's a pun about petti-rossi translating to red chests (red=rossi, chests=petti) and the italian name for robin (the bird!!!). We needed a gang name that sounded bloody and cool but not edgy.....

☆ Do you take requests?

You can hope to 'lady macbeth' me enough to make me think it was my own idea to draw something

☆ Why haven't you replied to my ask? :(

I either forgor OR your ask had a compliment in it and I'm safekeeping it in my askbox so that I have something nice to look at when I get sad

There are chances I go back to older asks so don't lose hope.....

[dlxxv-vetted-donations]

URGENT: Help the Iwais family start a new, better life.

Update: Aug 31

Member: @mohdiwais (Mohammed Iwais), @iwaisfamily1 (Mohammed's sister)

Verification: link

Payment methods: Paypal, credit/debit

Current progress:

SEK 291,715 335,968 / 500,000

$10 USD = 105 SEK

Details:

27 people in family to evacuate to Egypt

10 family members already killed

Was forced to evacuate by the IDF and was displaced numerous times. Currently live in poor conditions.

Mohammed's sister was shot in the thigh with a large bullet and underwent surgery. She hasn't fully recovered.

Aug 26: Tents were bombed and Mohammed's 7 year old nephew was injured.

The money is transferred to Mohammed once every few weeks, the next of which is on Sep 10. The Rafah crossing is expected to open in September. Please do not let this family miss their chance to leave.

Note: I do not often make posts for campaigns I am not focusing on, and I won't be updating this. I encourage others to adopt this campaign (because I can't right now) and make sure it gets the traction it needs.

Tagging random ppl. Share and donate if possible. Want off my 'mailing list'? Please message me!

@mettaworldpiece @mak-to-the-future @squuote @shimamitsu @rosyish @maamlet @brutaliakhoa @cosmicwhoreo @painfully-unoriginal @tittyinfinity @c-o-z-m-o @silly-seer @blossomdapple @pthalomars @transhitman @ikeagaming @sleepless-crows @aroacekitty @beechersnope @moonkitty @songforaname @thesblu @spacey-png @gothgirldabi @planetamarte

[2btheanswertothequestion]

Eddie's Kissing Lesson #3: It's way more than kissing now

(Lesson 1 | Lesson 2 | AO3)

A few years ago, Eddie made a habit of driving to Indianapolis. Inevitably, he ended the trips at a club or a bar. The visits were usually solo affairs, though not always; sometimes Donnie or Zac (the only ones in Hellfire who looked old enough to get past the bouncers) or Callie (who didn't look old enough, but who could charm her way in), would tag along. If they did, they'd go to a straight club. If he was by himself, he'd roll a die between a straight or a gay one. No matter the kind, he'd be approached at least twice every night. Beautiful strangers with appreciative eyes, a drink in hand and a line ready on their lips.

Eddie would accept the drink, flirt for a second, then tell them he 'wasn't interested, but thanks anyway'.

It was half true – he was interested (fuck, was he interested), but also… not. He'd never say it out loud, but even at his horniest there was something in his way. A roadblock. Because the thing was, intimacy required, as one might suspect, intimacy. Although, one night stands walked hand in hand with alluring anonymity. Like being watched without risking being seen.

Eddie liked that, most of the time. Liked shrouding himself in a mystery. But when it came to sex, he wasn't so certain. Something instinctual told him it wouldn't be truly good unless it was real. For it to be real, walls would have to come down. Leave an unobstructed field of view for wide-open eyes. Terrifying and exhilarating; he wanted it so bad, but he couldn't (wouldn't) have it with just anyone.

It had to be special.

So, he accepted the drinks, flirted for a second, and sent the beautiful strangers on their way.

Steve writes with a rhythm. It goes tap-tap-tap-tap with the pencil on the pad while he thinks, followed by scritching, before he pauses to tap-tap-tap some more.

It's strangely endearing, not to mention relaxing. You'd expect a guy like him to be rough, leave imprints on the papers underneath and constantly break the point, but no. His large hand is soft as it writes. Eddie could fall asleep to it. A shame they're too busy to sleep.

Star Trek IV came out a week ago and the kids, Dustin especially, have been obsessed ever since. The moment they stepped out of the theater, the little twerp turned to Eddie and begged for a science fiction-themed campaign. And because he's a chump who can't say no to the kids nowadays, Eddie agreed – to a one-shot, not an entire campaign.

(Also, he's already been crafting a solar system for a potential space exploration-campaign on the down low. Why not finish and use it?)

And because Eddie Munson doesn't do half-measures in these circumstances, he spent the next week worldbuilding and polishing his new universe. At one point, as he put the finishing touches on the water planet's cuisine, Steve peeked over his shoulder and asked about sports. Eyebrow raised, Eddie said 'what about sports'. And that's when Steve snottily pointed out that Eddie had developed everything about these space cultures except for the sports, which didn't make any sense – sports was a huge part of every culture, whether Eddie liked it or not.

So! Because Eddie Munson does not do half-measures… he's currently creating extraterrestrial sports games in Steve's kitchen. Although, right now Steve's doing most of the work. After Eddie came up with the base concepts, Steve stepped in to use earth sports as inspiration for the technical aspects: rules, scoring, player positions, player numbers, playing fields, seasons (which ties in with the climate of each planet), and so on.

If he's being honest, he'll never use most of this. God knows the kids (except maybe Lucas, but he wouldn't bring it up) wouldn't notice or care about the absence of sports. But. Turn down an opportunity to hang out with Steve? Never. Also, deciding how much of real baseball should inspire their thinly veiled version of space baseball (spaceball) is kind of fun? What's a penalty and what isn't is just exciting when you throw anti-gravity into the mix.

Most importantly, it's nice seeing Steve be in his element. Dude is so fucking knowledgeable about this. Hearing him say that this will score x points because of that reason, confidence dripping from every syllable, has Eddie's tailbone tingling.

Would it be rude to swipe their notes off the island and jump onto it, offering himself like a buffet?

He knows he's allowed. Or, he knows that Steve wouldn't mind if he asked for a break, even if it was to make out. They've made a habit of sucking face when it's just them and there's nothing else to do (or when there are things to do, but they're easily ignored). Question is if he truly wants to interrupt those soothing pencil scritches and put an end to Steve's surprisingly sexy thinking face. He's got a little furrow between his eyebrows while chewing on his bottom lip, and every so often he'll mutter hoarsely under his breath. The fact that he's being so serious about doing this for the campaign, for the kids, for Eddie, is…

'Unreal' is what Eddie would've said nine months ago. Now he knows it's entirely in character. It's still noteworthy enough for him to memorize every detail of this moment. The King creating nerdy sports with the Freak is a picture that must be immortalized.

He doesn't realize how hard he's been staring until Steve looks up from their work, raising his brows in a silent 'what is it?'

Eddie shakes his head, warmth creeping over his cheeks. He pushes off the kitchen island and turns away to hide it. The sink is conveniently right there, so he grabs a glass out of the cupboard and fills it as excuse.

Behind him, the pencil hits the pad, rolling across the paper. Steve's footsteps are deliberately loud, telegraphing his advance over the surge of running water. Eddie fills the glass, drinks it in one gulp, and puts it on the counter. When he turns, heart thudding, Steve is standing inches in front of him. Steve leans forward, bracing his hands against the counter on either side of Eddie's waist. Boxing him in, but not trapping him.

"Did you want something?" Steve asks.

Eddie crosses his arms casually and shrugs. "Not really."

"Huh. It seemed like you wanted something."

"I was admiring your dedication to the campaign. It warms even this barren heart that you'll partake in nerdestry for the sake of the children."

"Oh, okay," Steve says and doesn't move; his hands remain on the counter and his face stays inches away. His eyes shine like suns, hot and intense. Eddie meets his gaze, face schooled into something calm. At least, he hopes – years of DMing have taught him how to regulate his expressions, but there's a big difference between DnD and this.

"Did you want something?" he asks to fill the silence and – yes! – his voice didn't tremble.

Steve grins. "Now that you say it, I did."

And with that, Steve kisses him.

The initial second, Eddie's brain shuts off, as it always does. It's simply too much too fast and all he can register is Steve Steve Steve. His taste, his scent, his firmness as he presses against Eddie and backs him into the kitchen cupboards.

But only the initial second. After that, he's back on, and that means he's on. Loping his arms around Steve's neck, Eddie tilts his head at the perfect angle until their mouths fit together just so and licks the inside of Steve's mouth. His hands delve into product-stiff locks and tug the way Steve likes it. Steve moans, slumping against Eddie. Eddie giggles into the kiss. He fucking loves knowing Steve better than his own back pocket, loves coaxing these reactions out of him, loves when he melts and leans his weight on Eddie.

It could be better only if they were horizontal and on a bed, or couch, or the fucking floor, and he'd get to feel the hair on Steve's chest and legs, the jut of his hipbone, and his evenly distributed weight. He so badly wants to know how heavy Steve is. He wants to be fucking crushed underneath him.

Maybe he could if he asked. Or maybe that'd be too much. The only time they've gone past second base is during the spontaneous blowjob he still can't fathom happened. Since then, their hands and mouths have stayed strictly above the waist. Eddie, though he's dying to blow Steve, is not going to complain or rush. Steve's the teacher here; he decides the curriculum.

All Eddie can do is show off the results of his rigorous practice. Today, it's by slotting their faces together like a pro and perfectly executing that tongue-sucking move Steve seems to love having done to him as much as he loves doing it to others. It brings a guttural noise out of Steve; he grabs Eddie's ass with both hands and yanks him closer. Eddie nearly loses his balance and must cling to Steve's neck to stay upright. Laughter rumbles within Steve's chest as he steadies him and rolls their hips together. The neck of his shirt bunches in Eddie's vice-like grip. They're as close as during that first kiss, no room for Jesus' finest hair between them. Eddie feels Steve's heartbeat, which means Steve can feel his, and the combined thud-thud-thuddings have his knees shaking.

Steve's hands round Eddie's hips and tug at his belt buckle. Eddie jerks back, breaking the kiss; a string of saliva still connects their mouths. Steve's eyes are enormous, more black than hazel. There's a question in them, a plea for permission.

Eddie nods and doesn't look as Steve opens Eddie's jeans and pushes them down his thighs. His face is on fucking fire. You could fry eggs on his cheeks. Which is a little debilitating. This is never how it goes in his fantasies – he's a lot suaver in those. Quicker on the ball, so to speak. On top of things, one could even say. But not here. Because here's an unfortunate fact about sex:

It's embarrassing.

Exciting and sexy and fun, obviously. But also embarrassing. It was the same during the blowie. The moment his pants were coming off and his dick popped out, Eddie was more inclined to run away than anything else. Hopefully, the feeling will fade as he gets used to it. These hopes are supported by how at ease Steve is, going from de-pantsing Eddie to unbuttoning his own jeans like it's nothing, second nature.

Eddie couldn't look away from that if he wanted to. Why would he want to? Steve's dick is a sight to behold. It's the eighth wonder of the world. Worthy of worship, of a dozen temples and daily sacrifices. It's long and thick, smooth and symmetrical, flushed at the tip and with a bead of precome already pooling in the slit.

It's pretty. And it's hard. It's hard for Eddie.

"Hey." Steve cups Eddie's face, tilting his head up (as well as bringing to his attention that his mouth's been hanging open like a fool; Eddie's teeth clack when he shuts it). "Is this okay?"

Eddie nods, breathing harshly through his nose. "Okay. So okay."

Steve smiles like Eddie just did him a favor. Eddie could – would – analyze that a little closer, except Steve lines up their cocks so that they rest against the broad expanse of his palm, rest against each other, and-

That's another guy's hand on Eddie's dick. It's another guy's dick on his dick. Steve's. Steve Harrington's dick. Next to Eddie’s.

Hoooooooooly shit.

It's happening right in front of him, and he's still having a hard time believing it. But it's real; it has to be real. Imaginarily gifted as he might be, not even he could daydream this into existence. Like, the way Steve's fingers curve around their cocks as he squeezes and strokes? The scratchy calluses on his fingertips? The ever-present chill of the Harrington mansion? How Eddie's testes keep catching on Steve's shaft, rising and rubbing against the dry skin? Steve's softly labored breaths? The edge of the fucking countertop digging into Eddie's lower back?

That's real. Uncomfortably and amazingly real.

Steve pauses to spit in his palm; Eddie whimpers out loud. When Steve resumes stroking it's just amazing, the glide so much easier now. It lets him go faster, put his hips into it and grind their pelvises together. Eddie keeps whimpering, these shamefully squeaky little ah-ah-ahs that he tries to swallow until Steve moans, hotly against the shell of his ear, that he sounds so pretty and sexy and "fuuuuuck, Eddie, wanna hear you like this every day."

He stops holding back then. Gets even louder when Steve noses along his jaw and sucks what'll surely become a mark at the underside of it.

The saliva has rubbed off but the glide is only improving, thanks to the precome dripping everywhere. Both are leaking, but Eddie especially – he's so fucking close. He tries to say it, but his skull is full of cotton and he can't form the words.

Steve must have some sixth orgasm sense, though, because he presses his lips to the scar on Eddie's cheek and mumbles, "So good, baby, you're doing so good, so perfect, wanna hear you come, wanna see your face, looked so pretty last time, almost made me cream my pants-"

Eddie screams. Head tossing back, lungs bursting, as he slouches against the counter. Most of all he'd like to sag to the floor and nap for an hour, he's that spent. But he can't – Steve hasn't come yet, and there's no way he'll go without again.

"Steve," he says. "Whaddya wan' m' to… C'n I…?"

The syllables slur together; he takes Steve's dick in his hand while licking his lips, hoping the point comes across. He just wants to make him come. 'How' doesn’t matter, as long as he's the one doing it.

Steve, thankfully understanding, puts Eddie's other hand on his cock, molding them tightly around the shaft, and rocks back and forth. Eddie almost whines a little since… well, he honestly has never before been so keen on having a cock in his mouth. Like, Steve towering over him, holding his head in place while fucking his throat? Yes and please, Jesus Christ, amen!

But this image is also pretty good: Steve's face inches away, pink with exertion and arousal, fringe plastered to his forehead, mouth kissed raw, and him thrusting wildly into Eddie's closed fists. Eddie's gaze darts between it and the throbbing cock in his hands. It's the second he's ever touched, after his own. It's a bit like jerking himself off, except a million times better, despite the kinda awkward angle.

Steve makes a noise, reedy and desperate. Eddie's eyes snap up just in time to see the climax wash over him, his mouth dropping into a perfect 'o' and his half-closed eyelids fluttering in pleasure. Ridiculous, beautiful, intoxicating; Eddie could become addicted to it.

Sighing, Steve lumbers forward to flop his head into the crook of Eddie's neck. Eddie drapes his arms over Steve's shoulders, probably smearing body fluids on his shirt. Neither says anything – they simply hold each other and breathe.

It's been a while since Eddie last was in Indianapolis. Been even longer since he visited a club. After some time, rejecting willing strangers and going home with bluer and bluer balls, no one to blame but his own fucking hangups, got old. Why waste the gas when he could just as well be getting no dates and not laid in Hawkins instead?

Except here he is, sweat sticking his shirt to his skin, hair frizzing around his ears, come drying under his nails. Standing with his dick hanging out in Steve Harrington's kitchen, with Steve Harrington in his arms.

He's sure he could've gotten this exact experience in a gay club bathroom years ago.

"Rather unhygienic doing this in the kitchen, hmm?" Eddie says.

Steve grunts, grossed out, but shrugs a shoulder. "I'll disinfect it."

Eddie giggles, and so does Steve, rubbing circles over the scar tissue on Eddie's hips. Burrows farther into Eddie's neck and makes no indication he'll move anytime soon.

Yeah, Eddie could've had this in a club. But he couldn't have had it with Steve in a club. Couldn't have felt this swoop in his stomach, like he's at the top of a roller-coaster, anywhere but here. Couldn't have felt this special.

You're ruining me, he thinks as he pets Steve's head.

Do you know that? he wonders when Steve ducks away, griping about what a pain it is to get semen out of hair. Squinting, Eddie asks how he figures. Steve blushes and laughs and doesn't reply, eyes glittering.

Can you see it?

------------------------------

Not tagging anyone except @piratefishmama because she's the reason this exists in the first place. Also, I'm pretty sure she's even more excited about this than I am, so. Here you go, girl. I hope you enjoy this very late continuation.

[luddlestons]

Hey! I just read your Callowmoore fic, 'Tight Laced', and holy shit it ticked every box for me. So well written and the art was amazing.

I've been really struggling to find good Callowmoore fics - have you written any others or could you recommend any you've read and enjoyed?

Thanks!

Thank you, I’m glad you enjoyed my fic!!

The only other callowmoore I’ve written presently is Fool Me Twice, which does also have Kingsley as a third, but is established Fearne/Ash. I do have a couple more drawings of them on this here blog (tagged ‘callowmoore’), some of them linked to my bsky bc of naked giant faun lady, and MORE IMPORTANTLY. I have recs. They are all explicit bc I know what I’m about.

Shiny - Fearne steps on Ashton and a good time is had by all

Sing Me Awake - consensual somno, has a delightful amount of Ashton getting anxious and backing off before actually going for it

Thieves Not Beggars - series of cute hookups set early on in the campaign

O trespass sweetly urged - sneaky business in the middle of the night, Ashton gets the soul sucked outta them

ALSO I found out there was a NEW one I haven’t read yet so idk what it’s about beyond the summary but I’m excited to read it so here’s a link: hotel complaints and grievances raised

Anyone who has more to add, add away!

If you end up reading, tell the authors nice things! Also, I keep extensive bookmarks, ESPECIALLY for critrole, so I’m always happy to share recs!

[rhymeswithfart]

Hello,👋

I hope this message finds you well.

I'm reaching out to seek your support during a challenging time. As a Multimedia student facing difficulties due to the ongoing conflict in Gaza, continuing my education has become increasingly difficult.💔😭

I would be immensely grateful if you could help by reblogging this message to assist in raising the necessary funds. Being new to Tumblr and GoFundMe, every bit of support makes a significant difference to me.💔💔😭

Thank you sincerely for your kindness and support. Wishing you all the best.🙏

Here is my Tumblr account:

https://www.tumblr.com/mahmoudalmasrifund?source=share

https://gofund.me/28651f56

I hope this will help. I'll add images so I can tag more things and hopefully more people will see this.

Please boost, this campaign is low on funds. Donations are protected.

O

[gryficowa]

Boycott!

You know what pisses me off? That Americans consider all other countries as backward and do not recognize the words of people from other countries when they tell them directly that they want to vote for a Zionist (They still have the nerve to call you a bot)

It just pisses me off because as usual, American pride hides their common sense and feeds their fragile egos :V

It's just that people who use poverty as a scare are fucking classists (Yes, I'm talking about liberals), seriously, I hate privileged classists who use poverty as a scare… It shows how disgusting people they are -_-

Now that I have your attention:

--------------------------------------------------------------

Two people wrote to me that they are willing to support my campaigns… The problem is that I share links to the collections (I am not from Gaza/Palestine, I know that I use a translator because English is not my first language, which may to make associations with people from Gaza, but I'm telling you straight, I'm not, I'm just sharing links to collections because I see that for some time now they have been moving forward more and more slowly, and this is disturbing, I just want to increase their reach, because fewer and fewer people are interested in Gaza, and it is sad, because the genocide is still ongoing, I understand, it is exhausting, but the Palestinians need us more than before, I also saw information that a certain channel stops broadcasting information about Palestine because, unfortunately, people from all over the world don't care, it's depressing and shows how fewer and fewer people talk about Palestine…)

I had to point it out, just share the collections and just do everything to reach a larger group of people, unfortunately, sharing to tags unrelated to tags may result in the post being deleted, because tumblr may consider it spam (which is bad), so you have to combine, to reach people (And the decreasing number of people interested in Gaza makes reaching it more difficult, plus the fear of scammers…)

[alicentsswornshield]

@wolfie-1221 posted a list of their fav rhaenicent fics 🤌 10/10 recommendations

I've been inspired to share my own list since I've been spending probably too much time on ao3 - hopefully it will be helpful for anyone looking to start reading rhaenicent (note that few are already mentioned in the above mentioned post)

My favourites (in no particular order):

(WIP) Seven (by @comicxgrl)

The story follows two alternating timelines and you're equally invested in both. It's so so well written, you fall in love with the characters immediately, the pacing of the story line is incredible and with only 5 chapters published, I think story is slowly set up for the main arc. The author is an architect and you can feel the thought process and clear intention behind every line and action.

(WIP) Out of sun (by @lumyart )

Rhaenyra and Alicent share a complicated past. Skip 10yrs later, Alicent is an excellent surgeon, has three kids and a husband. Their paths cross again when Targaryen Enterprises start being involved with Alicent's hospital.

Tags for this story are #bdsm #makingkinkemotional #emotionalslowburn - I think that's all you need to know?

I feel like it's really hard to write about bdsm w/o making it feel gratuitous. That's not the case here. @lumyart involves it as one of the main plot points of the story. It explores the emotional/psychological reason/need behind kinks and how those relationships differ etc. The push and pull in their relationship is dizzying, as the story progresses we get snippets of their past and what went wrong between them and how did they get where they are now. It almost feels like you're uncovering a mystery. There's many layers to the story and each chapter gifts you one piece of the puzzle.

See also: Blame it on Fate (morning show au we deserved) | silver sparks (wish this was the s02 hod script)

Love is complicated (by @molter-writes)

Absolute favourite of molter's fics and that's really hard to decide on.

This story made me want to start a campaign to get @molter-writes to actually write a rhaenicent Notting Hill AU.

Don't even read the summary. Just read everything and anything by @molter-writes , it will always deliver strong writing, a compelling storyline and characters that you can't help but fall in love with.

Bodhrán beat (by @molter-writes)

I'm not a monarchist but I will make an exception for this modern royals au. Whatever you think this fic is about, you are mistaken.

Only one chapter posted so far but it's so so good. I don't think you realise how unwell I was after I read it.

See also: (WIP) leaf and blade | (Completed) grey ridge (ríl liatroma) | (Completed) ride the dragon (and do it quickly) | (WIP) song of the exposition

(WIP) Lying (in the hollows of your heart)  (by @wakesirens) 

I usually read only modern AUs (because of the misogyny in Westeros, I have enough of that irl thanks) but this fic is amazing nonetheless. Keeping Baelon alive and him being king gives us an alternate version of Rhaenyra's life. One where she's his most trusted advisor and representative of the Crown but she's not bound to the throne/realm in same way as the heir. This allows her to still attain power and freedom usually not afforded to women. Oh and Alicent works in a brothel.

What you wanted (by mrdcai)

Berlin, spies, complicated past, angst

Again it's just excellent writing! This one only has 1/3 chapters out but I'm already convinced that it deserves to be among top five fics. Only downside is that the story will only have three chapters, though a part of me is hoping that the author will change their mind and make it a longer story.

Side note, I keep imagining Alicent as Olivia Cooke's character from Slow Horses... great spy/thriller show btw

See also: Desire (I want to turn into you)

Some other fics I loved:

(WIP) Honey, make this easy (by nerdsofdeath)

Alicent is a history professor at university and Rhaenyra is her new TA. It's a slow burn and v angsty 😭

Midnights Like This (by pure_black_wings)

College AU, they're two idiots in love that don't know how to cope.

War of Hearts (by Silanahfire)

Rhaenyra Targaryen is barren and the realm needs an heir. The King and Grand Maester Mellos found a solution in the scripts of Old Valyria. Alicent Hightower will carry her child, even if the estrangement between the two seemed impossible to end. An arranged marriage waits both.

(WIP) You Broke Me (by skullgamerscy)

Angst 😭

The Silver Queen and the Lady in Green (by Wandering Fan)

This is AU in every sense of the word. The author built a whole different world with its own lore. Very very slow burn

[islandtarochips]

Hellooo my dear! (answering you ask rn and i got curious as well!) How does Koa reacts while Bell is being interrogated by Adler and the others at the ending? was he there? who was he with at the time :o (i love Koa sm oh my god hahaha)

Helloooooooo pele! And OOOOOOOOOO! I would gladly answer your question about this wonderful Māori man!

I decided that Koa WAS there during their interrogation.

Since he'll be splitting up with Bell, Lazar and Park in Cuba. I felt bad that Lazar and Park died either way of choosing ONE of them. So why not add an EXTRA one to save one each, hm?

So yeah, after that mission. Koa will be confused to see Adler, Sims and Park taking him inside the room being latched up on that gurney. He was asking Hudson as to what they are doing with him. He noticed that the CIA Agent was not responding to his question.

Koa has a REALLY bad feeling as he walks over to see for himself but I know Hudson will have to stop him. That's when he saw through the window seeing Adler injecting something into Bell. That's when he got pissed off. He tries to get through to stop him but both Hudson and Lazar try to calm him down and tell him that it's the only way to get Perseus.

Koa didn't sign up for this. He knows that Bell trusted him of how close the two are. But now KNOWING the truth of how they- AHEM excused the language - FUCKED up Bell's identity and tricking them to think that they are one of THEM. That REALLY ticked him off.

And I am going to explain Koa's reaction from both of the TWO endings that Bell will make by telling them the location as to where Perseus was at.

"Solovetsky..."

Koa was there to help to end this war once and for all. And he was smiling proudly seeing that they WON.

But things were really off after seeing that Adler and Bell weren't around. He was with Woods and Mason at that time celebrating their victories.

That's when he saw Adler walking back to them...by himself. Where is Bell? What has he done to him?

Once Adler confirmed about it (or lied about it? I don't exactly know...). He knows that Adler is hiding something. And he doesn't like it. But he restrained himself and just continued on working with them.

And also, if you remember about that one skit I did about Koa and Adler arguing. That was the LAST straw for Koa to help out. So after that argument the two had. He decided to quit and just go back to the New Zealand Army and go back home. I'm sure Aleks (@alypink BOCW OC) is already disappointed in Adler but she understands Koa's intentions.

So he left for GOOD. Until on the other COD BOC about Adler being MIA? I think. I need to watch that campaign when I get the time. And I'll stop right here for this part.

"Duga..."

Very sad to see the team all DIED.

Which means Koa will have to as well. Or maybe not? I was thinking that Koa should be the LAST one trying to escape after Bell killed Adler.

Bleeding. Injured. It is VERY painful.

He was TRYING to escape then but was caught by one of the soldiers as he was dragged back in. Before falling in front of Perseus and Bell.

I know most of you might think that Koa will be pissed off seeing Bell betrayed them. But...he's not. Instead, he was feeling guilt for failing to help and protect Bell. Since he didn't KNOW what Adler and the team were planning on them.

The last thing that he will say to Bell before getting shot is...

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry that I failed to help you...to protect you...like how I failed my daughter....so please...forgive me..."

And that's when Bell hesitated to point the gun at him.

Koa just smiled a bit at him before getting shot in the head.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND that's about it! I really enjoy doing this ask! And I thank you for asking me this, Aly! And now, I must tagged the OTHER two to see this one!

@deeptrashwitch

@welldonekhushi

LOVE YOU, PELES!

[factorialsotherfandoms]

More OSNF fic for Battleships and for @echotunes ! This one has a lot of corpse talk so, er, fair warning for that. Being aftermath of a canonical character death.

Linens and Pearls

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Ordem Paranormal (Web Series) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Ajudante/Enfermeira (Ordem Paranormal) Characters: Enfermeira (Ordem Paranormal), Ajudante (Ordem Paranormal) Additional Tags: the death is there when it starts, Grief/Mourning, Corpses, Wakes & Funerals, Cults, Worldbuilding, Campaign 02: O Segredo na Floresta Summary: The Nurse prepares the Helper's body for burial.

The Doctor will not touch the body.

The Blacksmith brought it by earlier, wrapped in an old sheet. The Doctor had sobbed as he looked over his son, identifying the slit in his throat as the cause of death. The only consolation is the crushed crystal between his lips - green. Green which should heal, but acts as anesthesia as well.

The Helper did not suffer as he died, just a few seconds of fear before he passed out. For a murder, it is all they can really hope for.

The Nurse dips a cloth in a bowl of warm water, and brushes it over his lips. Flecks of crystal come away with it, their power long gone but their colour remaining.

She shakes out the crystals before wetting it again. This time she starts at one ear, and cleans his whole face in a spiral motion. The grime of a workday is washed away, and as she passes them she gently closes his eyes.

There is no laughter in him any more, no light or joy. He will not eat buttery butter again and, in her grief, neither will she.

The Nurse cannot bear to see the terror on her beloved's face, and so she wipes it gone with a cloth and warm water.

His clothes have to go, bloodstained as they are. She strips him of them and tosses them to the door, ready to sort what can be salvaged and what must be burnt at a later date. It is the first time she has seen her beloved naked, the circumstances unlike any she had imagined.

People are not murdered in Santo Berço.

Not except for her beloved Helper, it seems.

Why him? Why did it have to be him? She is methodical as she wipes down his fingers and hands, every motion that same spiral, despite the fury in her chest. Of everyone in the village, why the Helper? Everybody loves him, everyone adores him, who would kill him? The new folk in town? But they have not left the Blacksmith's sight all day. There is nobody else. All he wanted to do was help; he was studying to be the next Blacksmith - the next leader - sure, but why would anyone hate him for that?

It was easier, almost, when she was Cibele of Carpazinha. A nurse, not The Nurse, tasked with sitting with young women through pregnancy screenings, and returning the elderly to their rooms.

Only almost - she is sure that she left for good reasons, even if she barely remembers them now.

She could just leave, except... that she really, really can't. Who will look after the Doctor, if she leaves?

Who will look after the villagers, if the both of them do?

To reach the Helper's back, she turns him on his side. A corpse does not move quite like a person - even an unconscious one - but just because murder is unknown does not mean that people do not die. In the year she has been here there has been one fatal mining accident, and one gentleman who died of old age. She tended to both their bodies, though on those the Doctor took the lead.

The Doctor does not take the lead on the Helper's corpse; she can still hear him crying in his bedroom.

Done with his back, the Nurse gently brings him back down. Just his chest now, and his mangled throat.

She goes first to his throat, not looking at his face as she washes the dried blood from his neck. It almost stains his skin, but not quite; it is bruises that dapple across him, from where someone grabbed him from behind and forced the powdered crystal between his lips.

Or so Liz said. And Liz is might be a visitor - perhaps initiate, if she comes to know the village's joys - but she also works in forensics.

So, she is probably right.

The Nurse has no way of knowing, so she simply moves along. Tries not to think about who the body is, just that she must clean the blood from his beard, and move on to his torso.

Over his chest she must be the most careful; the Nurse steps away to change the cloth and water, and to collect the inks she needs for the next phase. The linens to wrap him in are already laid out beneath him, but it is not quite time for that yet.

A smattering of crushed crystal is mixed into the water, stirred thrice and then twice before she brings it back to him.

To it.

The Nurse has lost people before. None have made her as furious nor shaken her as much as this death, but she has lost before. The Helper, though...

She must not be angry, lest she taint what she does.

But she is so, so furious.

Do not think of his death, do not think of the morrow's funeral, just think of afternoons in the woods and mornings watching him work and evenings around a table with his father, laughing with all the town around them. Think of the Gatekeeper goading him towards kissing her, while the Artist teased her for wanting to kiss him, think of -

Or perhaps it is better not to think at all.

The Helper's body is now crystal-clean, washed according to the rites passed down from the Five Guardians. The Nurse does not quite know what that means just yet - she has much to learn before she faces her Trial.

Part of Santo Berço enough to prepare a body, but not enough to see her beloved Helper to the grave. Funerals are closed, they say - no children, no initiates, no outsiders.

She tries not to think about how this is goodbye, just tries to be thankful for some time with him before he is buried, and his tree is planted. She takes the ritual ink and the horsehair brush, and slowly begins to trace the markings across his body. They are strange, intimate perhaps, and it takes deep focus to get the curves just right.

The Doctor must have tended a great many bodies, with how easily he paints the marks upon the skin.

Back, chest, both sides of each hand and foot, forehead, the lines that draw it all together...

The Nurse traces the beautiful markings - the one she had, at first, mistaken for tattoos - across his face first with a finger, and then the brush. She trails the ink down the side of his face, winds it around his neck, and has it meet its match at the top of his breastbone. She brushes his hair, and his beard, and neatly positions it upon his body. He will be wrapped in the linens, but there is no reason he should not be put together beneath.

She takes more care with him than the other bodies.

She cares more for him than for the rest.

She loves him.

Or loved him, perhaps?

... It does not work like that.

She loves him, and the rites must be silent; she will never get to say.

Not even a kiss.

There is nothing to do about it now, except...

Her grandmother's necklace is still beneath her dress. She will have to give it up before she can undertake the Trial, but for now she is allowed to wear it.

Hesitantly she glances towards the door. Moments later the Doctor throws something glass against the wall, screeching before descending into another flood of deafening tears.

Quickly, she unclasps it - a pearl on a silver chain - and kisses the pendant. With only a moment's hesitation, she claps it around the Helper's neck.

Her fingers linger there, against the pearl but not his skin. For maybe a second she keeps contact with him, the last time she ever will. She does not want to let him go, she cannot bear to let him go.

But let him go she must.

With now shaking hands she pulls away. With the linens already laid out it does not take much to swaddle the corpse. Wraps him up, and tight. He will be comfortable in the grave, even as his soul journey on; if the markings and the swaddling and her grandmother's precious necklace are all that she can grant him, now, then the Nurse - Cibele - will do it.

Tomorrow she will drink and cry and scream, curse whomever killed her beloved before she thought to confess, before she could even attend his funeral - though she must attend his corpse.

Tonight, though, she will sit, and wait, and hold him close until the villagers steal him for the grave.

[wyvernwriterarchive]

Writblur Intro! Again!

Picture by Olga Antonenko on Artstation.

Hi! I'm Blazer, and I use He/Him pronouns. I'm a 18 y/o aspiring writer and game developer who wants to share my stories with others. And also scream about my ocs, or other story bits. I love fantasy and spend a lot of my time writing about it.

Currently, I have a few stories that I am currently working on, plus MULTIPLE that are more just W.I.Ps or ideas I want to explore when I'm done with those two.

Main Projects

🛡Tathylia Chronicles, an FE9/FE10 inspired SRPG made with SRPG Studio following a mercenary's son and a magical princess as they fight off an evil empire in two separate campaigns. The one I work on most often.

🌻Path to the Gilded Field, a novel about a girl who decides to go on a journey to save her mother from a plague, with the help of a lord, a knight, and a mercenary.

⛈️Dalgari: Thrones of Legend, a FE4 inspired game idea about the descendants of legendary holy warriors using their power and privileges as royals to bring peace to a chaotic world. I'm not currently in development, but I talk about it a lot anyway, soo...uhh...woops.

Side Projects/Lesser W.I.Ps

🔮Faelight: Glow of Faith, a story about the runaway heirs to a magical kingdom trying to stop a war from breaking out by sealing away magical weapons that could end the world.

☀️Heroes of Dawn, an RPG about a girl seeking adventure and freedom, being chosen by the goddess of fate to enact her will no matter the cost.

💥The Wyvern Rebellion, a story about a rebellious mercenary, a fortune teller, and a prince trying to take down an expansionist empire.

🌈EMOTE, a story about a girl named Justine, who moved to a new city filled with people with powers based on their emotions.

But besides that, I have SO MANY MORE that I wanna share. So many....like too many.

So...if you like stories with diverse casts and rambling, feel free to follow me! And also, feel free to ask me things about my wips.

Also, below, you'll find the tags of some of my stories, lol.

BYE!!

[aquadestinyswriting]

What Comes Next?

Summary: Following the departure of the Adventurers from the Hall of Heroes, Llachlan and Aurianna sit down and have a frank conversation about what's going to happen now.

Words: 819

Tags: @druidx @homesteadchronicles @flashfictionfridayofficial @asher-orion-writes,@warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings, @blind-the-winds, @thesorcerersapprentice,@writeblrcafe

Warnings: None

Notes: Set during the time of the current campaign. Around 900-ish years after Destiny's New Servants, so Aurianna is all grown up now.

Llachlan stared moodily at the group of adventurers leaving the Hall of Heroes. It wasn't that he was ungrateful– He owed his newfound freedom to them after all– but now that he was free from the clutches of the Black Lady, he had no idea what he was supposed to do now.

He startled as a gigantic foot covered in golden scales landed on the floor next to him. A soft rumble echoed around the hallway,

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were so lost in thought." Aurianna's voice was soft as she spoke. Llachlan cleared his throat and shook his head,

"It's fine." He muttered. The young dwarf fidgeted for a moment, trying to find the words he wanted to say to this Guardian. There was so much he wanted to ask, but he didn't know what kinds of answers he even wanted for them. 

Aurianna watched as the lanky, awkward young man wrestled with himself. While she had been aware of his birth, her heart ached at the thought that she'd never really had a chance to meet him properly. The gigantic dragon heaved a melancholic sigh as she lay down on the floor next to him, crossing one giant paw over the other and curling her tail around Llachlan. Several long moments passed before either of them spoke,

"I won't condone the way you were treated, but I understand where it came from." Aurianna finally said, watching the airship the adventurers had used to get here fly off into the distance. Llachlan snorted and glanced up at the whiskered face,

"Aye, well, that doesn't undo what was done!" He snapped, crossing his arms moodily across his chest and glaring at the mosaic laid into the floor. Aurianna rumbled,

"It doesn't." She agreed, "I won't ask you to forgive them, Llachlan, that decision rests with you. I will point out, however, that you now have the opportunity to live for yourself, free from any perceived obligations you might have had." 

Llachlan's frown lifted slightly as he looked up at the huge dragon. He bit his lip and fiddled with one of the clasps in his beard,

"I ken," he murmured, "but how do I even start? I've spent ma whole life tryin' to live up to the expectations everyone had o' me a-and…" he broke off as the damn within finally broke and the decades of shame and guilt poured out. Aurianna crooned softly, laying her head next to the distraught dwarf and curling tighter around him,

"None of us expect you to be able to live up to the legacy we left you with." She said quietly, "All we wanted was for you to grow up in a world where you wouldn't have to do the things we had to, and I'm so sorry that you couldn't avoid getting involved in this." Llachlan wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his robe and sniffled,

"Aye, well, I've heard that history has a bit o' a bad habit of repeatin' itself." He took several deep breaths to calm himself down and sat down next to Aurianna's snout, leaning his head against it.

"So what now?" He asked, "My last patron isn't gonna leave me alone now I've rejected her. If anything she's gonna lash oot worse than ever." Aurianna gingerly lifted her head again and fixed the beardling with a determined stare,

"Then we do what we can to stop her." Llachlan gaped as the lining around the dragon's scales lit up, sufusing the whole corridor in a divine radiance. He backed off a little as a small tendril of the light reached out to him. He looked up at Aurianna, unable to hide his fear. The moment they locked eyes, he saw Aurianna's expression soften and he felt, rather than heard,

I'm sorry she taught you to fear this kind of connection. 

Grey blue eyes widened, transfixed by much larger dark, liquid gold. The feeling was warm and comforting; far from the cold and calculating demeanour he was familiar with. Something within Llachlan leaned into it, desperate to hold onto it, like a child seeking warmth and comfort from their mother.

It's ok. Things will be better, I promise.

Llachlan's hand still shook as he reached out to the tendril of light, unsure if he could trust this feeling. He swallowed down his fear, closed his eyes and touched it. 

Warmth flooded into Llachlan as the light consumed the temple, overwhelming the dark coldness that had sat in his heart all this time. And for the first time since he could remember, Llachlan felt safe and secure.

He gingerly opened his eyes, to find Aurianna grinning down at him. The dragon jerked her head,

"Well, let's get started. We've a lot to do and not much time to get it done." Llachlan nodded, a slow smile creeping onto his face,

"No, I suppose we don't."

[susiecarter]

Tag 9 People You Want to Get to Know Better

I was tagged by @nixie-deangel!

Three ships: Mmm, if I had to pick only three to sustain me forever—Xena/Gabrielle, Bruce/Clark, and Garak/Bashir!

First ever ship: Probably also Xena/Gabrielle, tbh. My family didn’t have satellite or cable TV for a pretty long time, but once when we were on vacation somewhere that did, I caught like half an episode of XWP and I was ENTRANCED—I didn’t ship them ship them, I didn’t know what that meant, but the emotional intensity about each other was the thing that grabbed me, so it was definitely the first, like, wordless shipping impulse I felt.

Last song/album: I’m an Old, I still have mix CDs I’ve burned for myself in my car’s CD changer (the car is also an Old :’D), so the song was “Come with Me Now” by the Kongos, but the “album” was “Susie’s favorite songs either directly off the Lucifer soundtrack or just more generally about the devil”, because that is that CD’s theme. :D

Last movie: Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings! I’d seen it when it came out, but my mother hadn’t, so the last time my sister and I were at the house for dinner, we all watched it together.

Currently reading: ... Long story, but at my last appointment, my dental hygienist gave me a copy of her husband’s self-published novel, and I need to read it before my next cleaning, so that’s what I’m working my way through right now. (It’s about a mountain man in the Old West and his survival in the wilderness, which is, uh. Not really my jam. /o\)

Currently watching: I’m actually working my way through a couple different groups of things, because what I watch depends on the activity I’m doing while watching. Work project that’s also eating up my off-hours = I need something to listen to, but I need to have already seen it before so I can concentrate = Campaign 1 of Critical Role on Youtube (for about the fourth time), S1 of Legend of Vox Machina, and Better Off Ted. Crocheting = I can actually look up sometimes and also have enough brain free to absorb new things = CW Stargirl, S2 of Legend of Vox Machina, NCIS: Hawai’i, and Clarkson’s Farm.

Currently consuming: A big mug of chai (like, Oregon Chai mix out of a packet, not real tea :’D) because it snowed all day yesterday and part of today and I need some c o z y.

Currently craving: ... I honestly don’t know, tbh. My usual cravings are for chocolate, Chinese food, and pizza, but I’ve satisfied all of them within the last week, and pretty generously, too. Maybe the true answer here is NAPS—I’m always craving sleep a little bit, but the time change last weekend definitely made it worse than usual. /pulls blanket over head

If you see this and you want to do it, consider yourself tagged! ♥

[tup-ika-5385]

Summary:

Hardcase thought he knew what he was getting into, sacrificing himself for his brothers. What he didn’t expect was to survive, for Fives to pull him away from the explosions and bring him back down to Umbara. He definitely didn’t expect to be refused medical treatment and to be left fighting for his life. Kix says it’s going to be a long road to recovery, and he’s starting to wonder what “recovery” even looks like after something like this...

This fic focuses on multiple character's struggles in the aftermath of Umbara and deals with topics of disability, burn wound recovery, depression, intrusive thoughts, and others. Don't be afraid to ask for extra tags if you need them!

Chapter 11:

A shorter chapter focusing on Dogma's mental state as he adjusts to being stuck in medbay.

This chapter contains scenes with one character experiencing intrusive thoughts related to suicide and homicide (in relation to OCD), followed by an autistic shutdown. Take care of yourselves!

__________________

TLDR the rest of the fic (for context):

When the supply ship went up in flames, Fives pulled Hardcase out of the wreckage, but not before he had serious injuries. They returned to Umbara, and Krell court-martialed the three of them, denying Hardcase access to medical treatment (but Kix found a loophole and guided Fives and Jesse through the bare necessities until Krell was discovered to be a traitor, at which point he stopped caring and did it himself).

The rest of Umbara continued the same as in canon, and Hardcase was eventually evac-ed to the Resolute, but not before catching an infection and seriously prolonging his recovery time (he's out of danger now though). Meanwhile, Dogma was detained in the brig for a while for killing Krell, and wasn't even doing the bare minimum to keep himself alive. Kix and Tup figured out a way to use medical authority to stall for time for Dogma, referencing Krell's death as a clinically-significant stress response that necessitated medical treatment, so now Dogma's being "detained" in medbay, and has been helping with Hardcase's care when the medics are busy. Recently, Hardcase has been healing more, and had his last big surgery, so he's still a little out of it. Also, my clone oc Patch joined the 501st last chapter, sharing his knowledge as a rehab specialist, and has been treating the entire legion as his vod'ikae.

___________________

Chapter 11:

Injured or not, Hardcase's snores were loud enough to wake the dead. Dogma sighed to himself in boredom; Hardcase had been sleeping for most of the day, still hopped up on painkillers and anesthesia from his recent skin graft surgery, leaving Dogma to his own devices. Fives, Jesse, and Tup were back on Coruscant, enjoying some much-needed shore leave, and Dogma tried not to feel too put-out at being left behind on the Resolute.

Absently, he watched as a medic in 104th gray armor puttered around medbay, carrying crates and gear of all kinds to the recently repurposed auxiliary medbay. The space had barely been used outside of their latest campaign, with a handful of flimsy cots and more than a few upgrades needed; nobody would be missing the old space.

Kix had looked beyond relieved when he’d gotten confirmation that the new medic’s transfer request had been approved, and Dogma was glad that the injured troopers would be getting the help they needed, especially Hardcase. There was a small part of him that worried, though, wondering if he’d still be wanted with another pair of hands around, much more experienced than his. Some days, those little chores around medbay were all that stood between Dogma and the brink of insanity; he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he wasn’t able to contribute somehow.

Even as he sat there, the buzzing feeling at the back of his mind persisted, and he knew it would get worse if he stayed in his bunk for too long. So with a quick stretch, he made his way to where Patch was setting up the rehab room.

“Uh, sir? Do you need any help?” He gave a small knock on the doorframe, to which Patch responded with a friendly grin, waving him over. 

“Sure, kid. Do you wanna start organizing the things from that crate? They should all go in the cabinet to the right.” Patch nodded to the crate in question, so Dogma got to work. He could still hear the conversation in the nearby medbay, a peaceful background noise to his organizing, and he was able to put the weird feeling aside for a little while as he got into a rhythm. 

Caught up in what he was doing, Dogma didn’t notice Patch coming over to check his work until he nearly bumped into him, flinching sharply as he realized how he’d let his guard down.

“Easy, kid. Just coming over to check how it’s coming along. You’ve got quite the system going.” Patch’s tone was apologetic; he felt bad about startling the kid. He watched as Dogma took a steadying breath before muttering a quick apology, not that the kid had anything to apologize for. 

As he looked at the kid, Patch noticed something in his eyes, a flash of anxiety and something a little harder to describe. He’d seen it in his own reflection once, a long time ago, so he resolved to ask about it later when Kix came back.

______________________

“Hey Kix, a moment of your time, real quick?”

“Sure, just one second.” Kix nodded agreeably, finishing up with his notes before following Patch to a lesser-used corner of the medbay.

“I had a question. It’s about Dogma. Is he… on watch?” Patch lowered his voice at the last part, voice taking on a particular tone. 

It wasn’t often they had uninjured troopers taking up residence in medbay, but usually, it meant a very specific thing: that a brother couldn’t…  be safe alone. But Kix hadn’t mentioned anything when they did rounds earlier; in fact, he’d skipped the kid entirely. And Patch wanted to respect his privacy, but he also wanted to know if he had to be mindful of sharp objects or of accidentally triggering the vod’ika.

At Patch’s question, Kix blinked in surprise for a moment, biting his lip before giving a shrug. “Not exactly… but keeping an eye on him is probably a good idea. Dogma’s… he’s the one that took down Krell, at the end of our last campaign.” He paused as Patch hissed between his teeth.

Kix continued. “GAR Command’s been calling for his throat, but we managed to stall them by putting a medical hold on his case. It’s not a perfect solution, and it’ll probably get the long-necks on his tail if we ever visit Kamino, but it’s the best we could do so that he’s with his brothers instead of rotting in some cell.”

He glanced around the corner to look at the vod’ika in question, taking a nap on his bunk. “Dogma’s a bit of a stickler for the regs, so he’s taken this whole thing… pretty hard. I’ve been giving him chores to do around the medbay, to keep him busy, and it seems to be helping some, but he’s pretty cautious around everyone but his batcher, so it’s hard to know how he’s really doing.”

Patch nodded, sighing sympathetically; clones were made for action, and sitting around anywhere for too long was bound to make anyone twitchy. “Sounds like the kid’s been going through it…”

“Yeah… I’ve been pairing him and Hardcase whenever possible, which seems to help some. Hardcase is still pretty early in the recovery process, and Dogma’s got a mind for schedules and organization, so they’ve been helping each other, in a sense.” Kix huffed a brief laugh. “Dogma’s got the bedside manner of a rock, but if he stays here much longer, I might have to request that Rex assign him as a medical assistant. I’d love to see what’d happen if I set him loose on the medbay’s organization system.”

At that, Patch shared a grin. “Is that right? I’ll have to invite him to help with my rehab sessions, then. Could always use an extra hand.” Giving Kix a quick word of thanks, Patch returned to his task of settling in. He’d keep an eye on this vod’ika for now, just in case…

_______________________

After spending nearly a week unoccupied in medbay, Dogma was starting to appreciate any distraction, even in the form of annoyingly loud ARC troopers. Fives, Tup, and Jesse had stopped by medbay a little while ago, and were currently regaling him and Hardcase of the sights and sounds on Coruscant. Fives had even brought back a small noodle cup for him and a nice broth for Hardcase from a civvie joint on-planet, which they’d both quickly inhaled. 

Dogma felt a little bad, knowing the lengths they’d probably gone to, constantly going back and forth from the planet’s surface to the Resolute just to keep them company. He consoled himself with the reminder that it wasn’t just him that they came to see, and Hardcase really did get less restless when he had someone to talk to, and honestly, these little visits did them all some good. Dogma had been battling another off-day before they got there, and even now he felt an uncomfortable pressure at the back of his mind, like an invisible foot was about to drop, but it was easier to ignore when he was pressed against his batchmate in a med-bed that definitely wasn’t made for two occupants, let alone three, with Fives sitting on the foot of the bed as Jesse regaled them about his latest trip to 79’s. Dogma got the sense that they were playing it up for their entertainment, but he couldn’t bring himself to call them out on it. 

Dogma glanced up at an especially loud laugh from the group. Identifying Fives as the source, his eyes subconsciously scanned the ARC until his mind jolted abruptly at the sight of his pistol. The Pistol he’d used on Krell, to be precise. A thought came to his mind unbidden, intrusive and violent in nature. “It’d be so easy to grab it when he’s not looking. I’ve done it before.” 

Dogma flinched visibly as the thought passed his brain. Grab it to do what, exactly? Shoot his brothers? Shoot himself?  

His hands shook as he remembered the way his thoughts had flashed through his brain back on Umbara, and how Fives had to carefully wrap his hands around Dogma’s to pry the pistol from his grasp. 

Like a switch had been flipped, the bad feeling at the base of his skull increased tenfold. In milliseconds, he felt like a puppet with its strings cut off, the world flashing by in grayscale as warning klaxons wailed in his head. He struggled to make sense of his own thoughts, painful tumults crashing through his skull, but on the outside he didn’t so much as move. His brothers were laughing and joking around him, enjoying each other’s company, but Dogma couldn’t even quirk his lips into a facsimile of a smile. 

As he sat there in a muted haze, the conversation around him began to fade, with first Jesse then Fives leaving to grab some food in the mess hall until all that remained was Dogma, a quickly fading Hardcase (still recovering from his recent surgery), and Tup, who’d been giving him increasingly concerned looks over the past ten minutes.

“You okay Dogma? You went a little quiet halfway through.” Tup asked, placing a careful hand on Dogma’s knee. Giving it a gentle squeeze, Tup scanned his batchmate’s face, noticing his strange, blank expression.

At that moment, what little resolve Dogma had left crumbled, his lip trembling as his next inhale turned into a choked sob. He drew his knees up to his chest, piercing shame scraping at his insides. As tears started streaming down his face, he heard a small noise from Tup, but he could barely process it as he gripped his short hair tightly, looking for something, anything, to stop feeling like his brain was fragmenting into shards of glass. 

Still wrapped up in his head, Dogma barely registered as Tup wrapped a warm blanket around his shoulders. When Dogma didn’t pull away immediately, Tup carefully enveloped Dogma in his arms, pulling him into a tender hug. Breath coming in small hiccups, Dogma melted, slumping against his chestplate. His tears started to dampen Tup’s blacks, but he only held him tighter, serving as Dogma’s anchor in the storm.

After what felt like an eternity, Dogma’s tears started to die down. He gave the occasional shuddering breath as he slowly came back to himself. 

Presence steady as he held Dogma close, Tup patiently waited for him to gather himself. At some point, Kix had poked his head in to see if they needed anything, but Tup waved him off for now. “It’s okay, Dogma... I’m here, vod.” 

He slowly became aware of Tup’s hands rubbing small circles in his back, his batchmate breathing in a slow but steady rhythm, encouraging Dogma to copy him. 

Finally, Dogma pulled away, bringing one hand up to dry the tear-tracks near his eyes while the other still gripped Tup’s hand. Tup gave his hand a careful squeeze before cautiously broaching the topic. “What was that about, vod? Do ya feel like talking about it?” 

“I-I don’t–” Dogma shook his head, voice raw from crying. “I don’t know–” His heart sped up, worried that Tup would demand an answer that he still didn’t fully understand. 

A hand started massaging Dogma’s palm, pulling him out of his thoughts before he could start spiraling again. “Shhh… that’s alright. No talking’s fine too. Just… if you need me, I’m here.” 

Dogma nodded shakily, letting out a quiet. “...thanks.”

“Anytime, Dogma. Any time.”

They continued to sit together for a while, and eventually Kix came over to check on Dogma and make sure he hydrated. That night, Dogma’s med-bed had an extra occupant, and Kix put another blanket over the sleeping duo, sharing a fond smile with Hardcase when they slept in long past first meal.

_________________

Author Notes:

If you've gotten this far, thank you so much for reading, aaaaahh!!!

On a more serious note, there’s something in this chapter that’s very important to clarify: Dogma, at least how I’ve characterized him, is not currently suicidal or homicidal. He has no intentions or plans to kill himself or others (besides Krell), but after seeing Fives’ pistol, he experiences extremely distressing intrusive thoughts about doing so. As someone with thought-action fusion (a component of OCD), Dogma is convinced that having these thoughts means that he wants to do these things and will do these things, making the thoughts just as bad as if he were to actually try and kill his brothers or himself, at least in his own mind. (Yes, this is a thing).

Of course, thinking about something is extremely different than actually doing it, but Dogma struggles with this distinction, which is part of why he had such a hard time with recognizing Krell’s true intentions, because thinking treasonous thoughts (or voicing disagreements) was practically as good as betraying the Republic and going against his entire reason for being. And because I’m characterizing him as both autistic and having OCD, this intrusive thought breakdown quickly leads to a shutdown/meltdown.

This scene was really hard to write mainly because of this distinction, but I hope I pulled it off okay. Dogma’s experiences are in no way meant to invalidate those of anyone with these conditions, but it’s important to understand that differences exist between intrusive thoughts, suicidal thoughts, and suicide itself, because otherwise that can be an extremely stressful and overwhelming experience like it was for Dogma himself.

Hope this clarified things! If you had any comments/questions about anything in this chapter, I’d absolutely love to hear about it. Take care of yourselves! (Also, comments and reblogs feed the dopamine-hoarding dragon that lives inside my brain. Okay thanks, bye!)

[godblessyoublackemperor]

🌟 get to know people game 🌟

tagged by @anotherdapta

Current time: 18:46

Anything you've been doing lately: Still last bits of WEDDING PLANNING, we're in the home stretch and financially all sorted which is a huge relief. So so excited to a) GET MARRIED and b) see everybody who's coming, so many internet friends it's gonna be so awkward but so fun, also our wedding playlist is going to be the best ever. Had a fun bass morning today, trying to learn some more Interpol bass parts, think I just about have Evil down if I use fingers but it's still hard with a pick. In other news I'm frantically trying to catch up on critical role - I feel like I'm getting there but they keep doing! They keep doing more! Also have been on-and-off planning for my dnd campaign, I built up a good buffer of Stuff thanks to some obsessive planning earlier in June but I am going to need to cement next steps soon and OH MY GOD YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW HARD IT IS WHEN ALL YOUR DND FRIENDS ARE IN YOUR CAMPAIGN AND YOU CAN'T TELL ANYONE ABOUT THE COOL SHIT YOU HAVE PLANNED.

Anything you intend to do later: Re-visiting @boo-ooops' campaign with @moonhangslow after a hiatus, v excited, he's such a good dm and Adrian a wonderful player and it's so RP heavy num num num num. After that probably watch more crit role...

Anything you recently watched or played: See above for recently watched, in terms of gaming I started Season a couple of weeks ago which is every bit as good as I was hoping and excited to get time to play more! Also played the 2nd demo of The Invincible which is shaping up to be a very cool game, especially enjoying the dialogue which leans so hard into the style of that genre/era, it's a lot of fun & I can't wait for it to come out (soon I think??)

Anything you want to watch or play: oh ok, see above again - also looking fwd to BG3 when it comes out, hopefully we can get some server co-op going :3

@hag-o-hags @breenlala @pasiphile @cannedmonster @distantdreams @yunmengtrio @whateversinks tags for you if u want 👍

[a-beholding-of-catboys]

Get to Know Me Meme

Ah, so you want to know my secrets @detectivefable . Jk, thanks for the tag.

Last song: The Dragonborn Comes (from Skyrim) and other tavern songs. It was just a tavern song kind of day yesterday and also Malukah's covers slap. Here let me link this 11 year old YouTube video:

https://youtu.be/4z9TdDCWN7g

Last show: The Owl House finale! Finally watched and thought it was fantastic. I love the end of show character designs and had an all around great time with this show.

Currently watching: Survivor season 44, my family used to do family dinner every Wednesday to watch Survivor when we all lived in the same town. We decided to all watch again this season so we can talk about it despite living all over the place. I've been having fun with it, definitely my favorite game show (well maybe Game Changer from Dropout also wins that title)

Currently reading: Tress of the Emerald Sea by Brandon Sanderson. I supported his Kickstarter for the 4 nicely bound books this year. My copy of Tress is beautiful but I just started it so I can't review it yet. I have Kith & Kin and Six of Crows on my "to read next" list. Although that list is subject to change at any moment.

Current Obsession: Ummm, I've had so many adult projects lately I haven't really had time to fall head over heels into a new thing. I'd like it if I could be obsessed with the D&D campaign I'm writing but I've got writers block and I've got no idea where to take the plot from here. I also haven't had nearly enough time to play my favorite video games lately (I've been craving more time with FFXIV, CP77, & RDO)

@jak-o-lope @grlizzybear , @detectivefable already tagged you for the tag game, but this is a we all need to play RDO tag. I miss video games.