#no respect around here no paternal interest

[theoppositeofprofound]

Harrow: God’s Special Little Girl (Handpicked)

Gideon: God’s Special Little Girl (Whoops A-Daisy Baby)

Ianthe: God’s Special Little Girl (Self Identified)

[wellofdean]

I wanted to make a separate pose to big up these excellent tags on this post about how a show can be about misogyny when it's about men from @deangirlism101 :

#by virtue of watching the show long after it stopped airing and after years of exposure to the fandom#I've experienced a very interesting phenomenon wherein i went in expecting a very straightforward male fantasy#specifically in regards to dean#and was continuously surprised by how dean was around women who were actual characters and not caricatures#with caricatures of women dean also becomes a caricature of a womanizer#but with woman characters? with victims and friends?#dean is constantly paternal/brotherly#endlessly protective and respectful#in fact dean's utter lack of sexualization of the complex women around him in the first few seasons#kind of had me thinking he might just be straightforward gay#additionally it's interesting to point out that dean is the only one of the three winchesters who does not have a#''symbolic woman'' that drives his narrative#i.e. of the three winchesters he is the one who engages with the women around him as people and not someTHING to give him ''purpose''#which ties pretty well into his own role in his family being a typically femenine one#john endlessly relies on dean to serve the role of his mother yet he resents him when he does it so naturally#which from a queer lense is pretty much spelling out ''john can't put his finger on it but something (queerness) about dean bothers him''#anyways it just surprises me how#the fandom has perpetuated this image of the characters#and how#ironically#that image is the exact caricature dean so obviously puts on and we so obviously are supposed to KNOW he puts on

Some really nice points here, and bang on target:

Dean is not called to his adventure/journey because a symbolic woman dies like John and Sam are; he is put upon it by his father and his own sense of responsibility and love before he has the agency to choose. He wants his father's approval, his brother's love, and he wants not to be alone in a world of monsters...and...is HE a monster? A killer? Is everything his fault?

John resents Dean because what he needs from Dean (obedience, domestic work, emotional labour) is feminine. It's what women are for. Dean internalizes that resentment. Sam defies John and is driven by his own losses, and John can respect that, but Dean becomes the family repository of what they've lost. Dean is the eldest daughter who can never do enough.

John has chosen to abandon normal life and live on the fringes to pursue his revenge quest, and Sam is fighting to get back to the center -- left his family, hot girlfriend, Stanford Law, credit in the straight world, friends. But Dean? He has accepted that he will never be normal. He has accepted that he will always be a lonely, liminal weirdo who knows something terrible about the world that most people are spared from knowing.

Like:

If you leave Supernatural season 1 without realising that everything Dean pretends to be is pretty much the opposite of what he is, then you are not watching it right, full stop. The Dean Winchester he pretends to be is a character invented by a terrified, homeless, wounded little boy who doesn't know how else to protect himself.

Second, if you can't see how totally fucking queer all that is, I CAN'T HELP YOU. And,

you cannot hit that many nails on the head without knowing where you're swinging your hammer, and in conclusion, Dean was always deeply queered, and that was in the DNA of his character.

The truth is, that Dean is a very cohesive character. He is written and performed beautifully, and with intention. He is not an accident, he is an artistic creation, and he is excellently drawn. I am not "giving the writers too much credit", I am taking an Occam's Razor-type view of it, and coming up with the simplest explanation for what I see on the screen.

That said, if by some insane magic trick they managed to make Dean this queer by accident? It doesn't matter what they intended, because THE TEXT IS WHAT IT IS. I don't need the permission of the authors to see a church by daylight, and Dean is THAT OBVIOUS.

[south-sea]

i've been promising it for ages, so here are finally some notes on the two iterations of black arms/doom i write for. in this house we ignore the "black doom is an evil space tyrant for the sake of being an evil space tyrant" thing and have fun exploring his motives from different angles

(it's because i had no idea that was even a thing until like a week ago. i've always thought the motivator was Just Food, and i like that significantly more.)

i like to think of eclipse's paternal qualities as something telling to black doom/the species as a whole, at least outside of canon instances. so that's an intentional trend across both.

it's also intentionally implied the alt arms are more or less what aruna's hive could/would have turned out like if he were less traditionally stubborn and foolhardy.

as for their plans and how things ended up:

alt doom started out as generally interested in how humanity might progress. once in contact with gerald, his plan was to trade his DNA for the chaos emeralds as a source of energy for the black comet, as its at-the-time power would have been mostly depleted by the time it circled back around in 50 years. this agreement was doomed to fail; both he and gerald almost immediately realized how badly it could backfire, got paranoid, and mutually planned to destroy each other. the fact humans are good sustenance for the black arms was just a convenient bonus at that point.

given shadow didn't make it past SA2 on this timeline, it left sonic to defeat the black arms. and in sonic fashion, this meant putting them in their place and sending them packing without properly destroying them.

alt doom is not so much one to accept he's been beaten, and more one to re-approach something from a different angle once he realizes his methods were flawed. this leads to him picking up and just going Somewhere Else. he's a scientist too, on some level. he can figure it out. and he does. rather than being all traditional and stubborn, he learns to work with other species, which in turn leads to securing better/more diverse materials, more ethical/convenient food sources, etc. the arms' population booms and advances at breakneck pace from then on. they diversify and spread out. without having to fight for survival, things are chill. it's considered the good end.

aruna's is the bad end. shadow is present on this timeline, and summarily wrecks his entire shit (for good reason).

the trouble with aruna's hive is it was in a constant state of nutritional deficit. they were the multiverse's scavengers, tending to pick planets clean whose populations were already critically low. not for any moral or ethical reason, just that the hive itself was so comparatively small in numbers, they didn't much have a choice.

this led to desperation. he got Tired of it. his last ditch effort to secure some means of easier travel/means to acquire food was to obtain the chaos emeralds. so he struck a deal with gerald, as these things always go.

he comes back 50 years later, finds his son has sided with the humans, and just snaps. just goes absolutely nuclear. if the deal isn't going to be upheld, and shadow sees the black arms as The Enemy, then he's just going to take the emeralds (and by extension the whole planet itself) by force. he's done playing nice. he and his people are starving. have been starving for enough years he's lost count.

this ends with the entire comet being blown up, and that's the last thing he sees as he's falling back to earth.

what all goes on after that point is between nobody but him, the multiverse's worst and, somehow, eventually, a familiar fallen god. (it's going in another aruna-centric post, some day, maybe, i hope.)

there's even still more i could say about how their respective hives operated and how they interacted with them personally, but that also needs to go in another post because this one's already long enough. but oh man is there more to say.

(and a shoutout/direct link to @motobug as always for the mobian design)

[avocado-writing]

not your fault, but mine

tangerine x single mother!reader (with tangerine being paternal, I know y’all love that)

2.1k words

cw: kidnapping, brief child endangerment, a lot of swears for the wordcount

tag list:  @honestlywtfisgoingon @white-wolf-buckaroo @felhomaly @venusthepirate @lunarpansexual @wanderedaway @georgiee-riviere @mushywutty @piechans @apieceoffabulousshit @4ng3l-0n-34rth @minjaz @starl1g4t @earth-elemental18 @luhvbot​ @underratedboogeyman @july-is-summer @vocalvixen20cp @northerngalxy​ @tangerinesgf @chaoticroaddreamerpasta @rxcently @skrrten @nightmarefeast @lost-lila​ @hardcore-flower @mrsdanieljackson

a/n: thank you to @lady-jane3​ for being my beta! if you enjoy this fic you will probably enjoy this one by @whatstruthgottodowithit​!

Tangerine has been a little bit in love with you since the two of you first met. 

Sometimes it’s pertinent for handlers to be sent on missions with their agents in the field. Insider intel and all that jazz, overseeing what’s going on. When he saw you in the hotel lobby waiting for him and his brother he was smitten with the smart black dress and look of professional interest you wore; but he was fucked when he heard you laugh at one of his jokes. 

It was enchanting. You were enchanting. 

You wriggled your way into his affections without even meaning to. You worked well with them both, and you were easy on the eyes and on the soul. Strong and capable in your own right, too. The job was easy because you were there; and when you all went out to celebrate that night it didn’t hurt that you were so receptive to Tangerine’s advances you’d ended up shagging him by the recycling bins round the back of the pub.  

The fact that you’d exchanged private numbers afterwards was a welcome surprise though. Tangerine isn’t usually the sort of bloke people are interested in having a long term relationship with, so he’d expected it to be a one-and-done sort of night. But then there you were the next week, getting coffee back in London. Like the two of you were civilised people, not involved in the business of murder for hire. 

It became a weekly thing. No more fucking, not yet anyway; just sitting there and chatting. He found himself looking forward to it each Friday. Seeing your smile, hearing your laugh again. It was a few macchiatos later you dropped the bomb. 

“If this is going to be a thing, you’d better know I have a daughter.”

He peered at you from over the ceramic rim of his coffee cup. 

“Right.”

“If it’s a problem, we call it here. She’s the most important thing to me. I like you a lot, Tangerine, but if a single parent is too much for you to handle I need to know now. So you don’t break my heart.”

You were upfront about it and he respected that. Maybe if you were anyone else he’d turn tail and run at that announcement. 

But you weren’t anyone else. You were you. Gorgeous, wonderful you. 

“That’s alright with me.”

The grin you gave him made him know he’d made the right choice. 

Then the moment he’d been bricking it over came. After a few evening dates and a couple of dalliances with you in local hotels, he was introduced to your daughter. She was a shy, quiet girl of six, who hid behind you and peeked out at him from the safety of her mum as a shield. 

“This is my friend Tangerine, love. Are you going to say hello?”

When she shook her head and hid her face in your shirt, Tangerine knew he was in for an uphill battle. But he’d fight it, for you. 

It was like trying to dig a tunnel through an iceberg with a spoon. The process was long and tiring. But he always made sure to be thankful whenever he was invited along to one of your days out with your daughter, to be given a chance to be part of the family. 

Your daughter is cautious. It sounds like you had a nasty breakup with her dad, and you never discuss it much - but your little one has trouble trusting new men because of it, it seems. But as the ice starts to melt around her he finds himself loving her as much as he loves you. 

He knows he can’t buy someone’s affections. But when he shells out an eye-watering amount for a stuffed dinosaur at the Natural History Museum and your daughter beams at him, he thinks it might be alright to cheat a bit. 

She might be quiet, but she’s concise when she speaks; pithy and never using more words than she needs to. Still she has that same intensity many young children do. She reminds him of Lemon, actually, back when they were kids: sincere to a fault, but affectionate in her own way. 

When she first held his hand in a crowd out in public, Tangerine grinned harder than when he heard West Ham got into the FA Cup final (didn’t win though, did they? Fucking Liverpool). Maybe he didn’t sign on to have a kid in his life, but he can’t help but feel incredibly lucky it ended up happening. And sitting with you cozied up on one side of him and your daughter falling asleep on his arm on the other, he’s even more surprised that he’s genuinely happy.

He heads to your house with a bouquet of flowers for you and a toy in garish packaging for your daughter. Oh, he’s going to earn points for this one - she never asked for it outright, but he’s seen the way she lights up whenever the advert comes on the telly. He’s not Lemon, but he’s still smart enough to pick up on these things.

And you’ll be pleased she’s happy, of course. And when you’re pleased it usually leads to him being pleased later that night.

But the blood in Tangerine’s veins freezes when he sees your door is ajar. You don’t leave it open, ever, and he can hear his heartbeat thunder when he nudges it and sees broken glass behind.

He drops the toy, and the flowers burst into petals on the concrete as he runs inside. 

It’s a mess. The coffee table is shattered, furniture has been overturned - and, fuck, there’s blood on the carpet. Signs of a struggle.

He shouts for you at the top of his lungs, for your daughter, sweeping the house and checking anywhere someone could be hiding. He comes up empty. Fuck. Fuck! How could he let this happen? 

Dazed, he heads into your bedroom. Sits on the bed. Fishes his phone out of his pocket, numbly taps your number to dial it. 

He doesn’t hear your phone go in the house. It rings off to voicemail. 

Right. Okay. Right. You must have it with you. That’s something.

Adrenaline surging through his body, he checks to see if your location is turned on. It is. Whatever happened, you made sure to know you could be found.

He stands up, clenches his fist so hard his knuckles turn white, and starts to call Lemon as he leaves.

You wake up to the taste of metal in your mouth. Christ, your head hurts. It’s a sharp ache that reverberates around your skull. Something sticky is running down from your forehead and has gummed your left eye shut, but you look around with your right the best that you can.

Some sort of warehouse. Of course. How original. Things begin to come back to you: the men smashing your door in, the couple you managed to deal with before you were overwhelmed. Your hand still hurts from the punch you delivered to someone’s nose, and you remember the satisfying crunch it made. Oh, god - and your daughter trying to run away but getting caught -

You call her name and you feel a shuffling against your back; you try to move before you realise you’ve been restrained. Hands bound behind you, ankles tied to chair legs. With a groan you crane your neck as far as it will go to take a look.

Your daughter comes to, groggy. You can just about make out her familiar shape in your periphery. If they’ve harmed a single hair on her head, you’re going to set this fucking building alight with every cunt who did this still inside. 

“Love?”

She lets out a little sob of terror. 

“Mum, what happened?”

“I’m not sure, sweetheart. Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

She takes a moment to answer, her voice shaking.

“I’m… I’m okay, I think.”

You hope she’s telling the truth, and not just lying to seem brave for you. It’s not like you can turn around and check, is it?

Alright, one thing at a time. You test the restraints. No luck, shit. They’re done tight. With multiple zip ties it feels like. It’s a chore to steady your breathing but you manage to do it, and talk yourself through what you remember.

They burst in, attacked you mostly in silence, but they were talking as they choked you out - about what? Focus, focus. 

Oh, fuck. A sentence comes back to you.

‘Let’s see how he likes it when he finds out we have his bird.’

Tangerine. This is all about Tangerine.

You hold back stupid tears. Crying isn’t going to solve anything, is it? But you want to, though. You want to cry over being weak enough to get fucking kidnapped, at being enough of a vulnerability to Tangerine that they’d take you to hurt him, that you got your daughter mixed up in all of this.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The door at the end of the warehouse space swings open. A man crosses over, a balaclava obscuring his face. Despite it all you can’t help but let out a little laugh - how fucking old school, you half expect him to whip out an Anonymous mask.

“Not sure what you’re having a giggle at, love. Seems to me there’s not anything funny about the situation you’re in.”

“Oh, what do you fucking want?” you snap, squaring up the best you can under the circumstances. Keep a brave face for her. The man rolls his eyes. 

“Well, darling, a very nasty man likes to get his end away with you. So we figured you’d be a useful bargaining chip when dealing with him. See, he’s pissed off the wrong person, and they’re interested in making sure he pays dearly for it. And the fact you arrange his little missions means this is a two-for-the-price-of-one deal.”

Your daughter whimpers. You bare your teeth at him.

“I don’t give a fuck what you do for me, but let her go. She didn’t do anything, she’s a child.”

The man rolls his eyes.

“What, so she can go running straight to him to tell him where you are? Don’t think so, sweetheart. No, much better to make sure she’s here. Safe. With us.”

He grins and it makes you feel sick. You open your mouth to lay into him, but a beeping from the walkie-talkie at his belt stops you. He grabs it and turns his back to you. 

“What?”

There’s the unmistakable sound of gunfire on the other end.

“Oh, fuck, they’re -” is as far as the speaker gets, before he’s cut off with a bloody gargle. The man freezes for a moment, but he’s been distracted long enough - you’ve managed to wiggle one foot free from your restraints and you bring it up as hard as you can between his legs. The man screeches in agony and drops to the floor.

You call for your daughter and tell her to work on her bindings. You feel her struggle behind you. She’s small, maybe she’ll be nimble enough to get free…

The man gets back up all too quickly. 

“You bitch,” he spits, and pulls out a knife from around his back. You feel the blood leave you.

Please don’t kill me in front of my daughter.

Any further action he was going to take, however, is somewhat interrupted by the fact a quarter of his head explodes all over you as a bullet flies through it. He looks shocked for a moment before collapsing for the last time.

They’re here. Tangerine and Lemon are dishevelled, covered in blood, and looking worse for wear - but they’re here. Tangerine lowers his gun and runs over to you, dropping to his knees to check you over.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, get her!” you say, motioning back towards your daughter. Tangerine doesn’t need telling twice. He picks up the abandoned knife and starts working on freeing the little girl behind you, as Lemon finishes closing the distance to help you.

You hear your daughter sob in relief and see Tangerine stagger back as she launches herself into his arms.

“Dad!” she cries, burying her little face in his neck. Tangerine doesn’t have an answer to that. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him properly dumbstruck: standing there, covered in blood and holding your child with wide eyes. 

“That’s a lot to unpack,” Lemon mutters with a smile as he finishes letting you go. You stand up and give him a tight hug.

“Am I glad to see your ugly mugs,” you sigh. 

“Oi, easy! If you want to keep kissing this ugly mug,” Tangerine says, and it makes your daughter giggle even if she doesn’t loosen her grip.

A bubble of laughter escapes from your lips. Pure relief. Oh, fuck, this could have been bad. It wasn’t though.

Not when you’ve got your boys around to watch your back.

[doodlesanddrabbles]

@dalishious made a pretty dope character sheet for BG3, which I decided to turn my hand to.

Here's others I've done before!

Arcandoria's character sheet

Moodboard

Relationship dynamic

Leshana's backstory under the cut. It's a doozy and not even all of the story I have written out.

Leshana Tavaris (Formerly Greene), her parents are Professor Abeline Greene and Count Aneirien Tavaris, the pair met in college in their respective youths, introduced by Aneirien's childhood friend and Abeline's future party member, Ze'ev Lavellan.

The pair hit it off with a small casual fling sprung between the two during their time in college, but just as Aneirien came to the realization that he actually prefers the company of men over women, Abeline came to the realization that she was pregnant. Her announcement to Aneirien had him on one knee instantly, and her laughing in his face for it. He just told her that while he loved her as a friend, he actually couldn't be in love with her despite trying, why would he think she'd want to marry him?!

Awkwardly, the pair tried their best to co-parent, despite Aneirien's parents' (Count Zathrien and Countess Iossa Tavaris of Berdusk) disapproval of the situation. Abeline's parents' (bakers Kevin and Mavis Greene) were more supportive and Leshana's earliest years were spent in the bakery with Aneirien supporting and visiting them. When Leshana was a little older, and Abeline had graduated college, Abeline set out exploring dungeons, with Leshana often waiting for her mother back in camp with a party member babysitting/waiting outside the dungeon as backup, Leshana had a very varied education in her earliest years (Hence her bardic "Jack-of-all trades" skill) but one skill she truly shined in was music, her godfather Ze'ev was a bard skilled in the lute, but Leshana found her passion in the violin and fiddle and the camp welcomed her interest in music, since it meant she was less likely to wander off in search of her own adventures. When Abeline wasn't in a dungeon, her home bases were either Candlekeep--where she would donate a number of artifacts she found or publish books on her findings--or Berdusk, where Aneirien resided.

Aneirien openly worried about Abeline taking Leshana out dungeon crawling with her, even if Leshana was never allowed further than the doorstep of the dungeon, and the pair would argue about it. Abeline seemed to think she could have it both ways, be a daring tomb raiding adventurer and a mother, while Aneirien would stress about one day getting a letter that Leshana had been skewered by a bandit or eaten by a bear. His fears became reality when at aged 9, Leshana was finally allowed inside a dungeon--one Abeline and her team had made sure to clear out beforehand, sadly, the team had failed a roll and missed a trap to disarm, meaning poor Leshana set it off. It was thanks to a teammates' quick reflexes that all Leshana lost that day was a couple of toes but the incident rattled Abeline and strengthened Aneiriens' resolve, Leshana would have a more permanent home in Berdusk with him and Abeline could be the one to visit them in her downtime. Initially, they sold the idea to Leshana as her just staying with her father until her foot healed up, Abeline having to go back out to the field for research, the parents' treated it as a trial period to see how Leshana settled in, and as much as Abeline hated to say it, Leshana flourished in a more stable environment, where she was finally able to make friends' her own age without having to leave them behind in a weeks time and so, Leshana became a permanent resident of the Tavaris household.

It was around this time that Leshana’s paternal grandfather died, leading her father to take up the mantle of Count and while the transition of power for Aneirien was smooth, things were a little odd for Leshana. She was a bastard child, one that Aneirien had taken into his home but officially speaking she wasn't a lady, or really in possession of any title, really, but Aneirien brought her to court, she was sent to the good schools and rubbed shoulders with children who did have titles. Leshana had to adapt quick to survive, gossip among the gentry can be vicious if not deadly and so she became very skilled at cold reading others and shaping herself to be the most palatable to them. Aneirien would worry about this for years, seeing it as his daughter stifling herself or even "cutting off parts of herself" to make others like her, he struggled to discourage this behaviour in her because her acting meant it was not only hard for him to call her out on it (She's just being polite/having an educated conversation about so-and-so's interest/etc) and with her social chameleon abilities, there would be times Leshana would convince her father that she was listening to his concerns. Any time she would let the mask slip, and it would be like blood in the water for sharks, any failure from her was never a surprise, considering what she is and her mothers' growing unsavoury reputation among the nobility (Some see Abeline as a gold digger who entrapped Aneirien with a child in exchange for gold, some see her as a hedonist having gotten pregnant so young and out gallivanting who knows where instead of living with her mistake and being a mother etc etc), so any attempt to be genuine from her was quickly snuffed out in favour for being the Golden Child instead.

Despite what people say about Abeline, a part of her always dreamed of being able to finally, finally go on an adventure with her, or even go on adventures herself! That's why she threw herself into her music, gaining a knack for bardic skills so as to be useful on her first quest, but then the accident happened.

When Leshana was 14 years old, Aneirien got into an accident, he himself had a fondness for arcane instruments and artifacts, he enjoyed studying them as a hobby and as part of his duties as Count to help investigate odd happenings for the Harpers in the area--it's why he hit it off with Abeline in the first place--but one such item that came across his desk was cursed or booby trapped, either way it ended in disaster the first time he picked it up, the explosion of necrotic energy left him in critical condition and clerics and doctors alike worked on him for hours to keep him alive while a young teenaged Leshana paced outside of his room, working herself up into a meltdown with worry over her father, her feelings only became more confused when a cleric was sent out of the room to grab Aneiriens' family solicitor of all things, Leshana felt hurt to be barred from her fathers' side as he lay dying but was relieved when it was decided that he would pull through, though permanently disabled, it was believed that Aneirien would be unable to have any more children due to the necrotic damage to his body.

Before that, when his life still hung in the balance, did he call for his solicitor, and with the healers as witnesses, had the paperwork made up to legitimize and formally recognize Leshana Greene and Lady Leshana Tavaris, future Countess of Berdusk. The nobility were in a tizzy following this, people scrambled to get into Leshana's good graces, others openly mocked her as simply "a pretender who got lucky", second and third sons were sent to court the future Countess and others were more concerned with what tf happened to Aneirien.

Leshana's biggest foe in the following years, was her paternal aunt, Saelasa Tavaris, who would've been Aneiriens' heir had he not brought in a solicitor, felt like this was a personal attack on her, why did he feel such a need to block her birthright while on his deathbed? She couldn't blame her brother in his state, so she blamed Leshana and let the girl know it.

Saelasa was behind most of the gossip and orchestrated scandals set out to undermine Leshana's legitimacy as an heir or any faith in her as a future Countess. Meanwhile, Leshana's own world was turning upside down, after almost losing her father, it was overnight that the world openly treated her like a completely different person all together, already a massive problem when one is barely into puberty but further exacerbated by the simple fact that Leshana's life wasn't her own anymore.

Countesses don't go on daring adventures across Faerun.

For her fathers' sake, Leshana put her hopes and dreams in a box and locked them away, throwing herself further into learning how to be a proper countess, learning about politics and management of the county, sitting in on political meetings with the Grand Duke Ravengard and such. This went on for years, as Leshana cut off more and more of herself to play politics and keep her father happy as well as take the stress of off his now frail shoulders. By elven standards, Aneirien's still very, very young, but the incident has aged him greatly. When she was 18, Aneirien sent Leshana to his alum college, officially as a "finishing school" setting, but had her enrolled in a Bardic college, hoping to keep some of her hopes alive for her, she wasn't quite sure what to make of this decision, she wouldn't really need this when she's a Countess after all, but took it as a "last hurrah" of her passions before throwing herself into politics permanently. Leshana enjoyed a level of popularity whilst at college, naturally there were the remora's hoping to gain something from hanging of off her, but many others were simply drawn to her genuine kindness, the only part of her that was real, and that she would let shine even if others side-eyed her for it. Inviting even social outcasts to sit with her at the table to chat.

Leshana enjoyed a level of popularity while at college and actually loved the course, learning history and bardic skills and acting etc etc. It was fun. Meanwhile, Aneirien was in talks about a marriage alliance with a young elven transman named Kemalen Tinúviel --a son of a wealthy merchant family, boosting both Berdusk's economy and the Tavaris' coffers. It was understood that this marriage would be sterile, simply an excuse for the Tinúviel family to put an heir of legitimacy on their shipping orders with the Tavaris family seal and the Tavaris family would benefit from the economy boost with trading. Leshana performed the violin at her father and step-fathers' wedding and was a lovely groomsmaid.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Kemalen became pregnant. Many fingers were pointed, most initially believing that there could be no way that the child could be Aneiriens' child. The Necrotic damage! But assuming Araj Oblodra isn't the only person messing with things like blood, a Faerun paternity test was issued and lo and behold, a miracle had happened and Aneirien had managed to conceive a second child! All eyes were on Leshana to see her reaction to the news, but she was busy finishing off her college courses, having extended her studies to actually cover politics and the like "while she was still young". Leshana tried hard not to think about her baby sibling until they were born. In isolation, Leshana loved her little sister Hanina dearly. But with everything else outside of that bubble, uhhhh........

There was suddenly pressure from Kemalen, Kemalen's family and other members of the nobility for Aneirien to declare his legal child as his heir, setting Leshana aside, others who had invested time and money into courting Leshana's favour didn't want that to be all for nothing, put pressure on Aneirien not to be so wishy-washy and to stay the course. Leshana tried to stay out of it, not sure what she wanted. She had spent the last 16 years shaping herself to be the perfect Countess, not allowing herself to dream of being free to do what she wants, to just be...put aside as if all of it meant nothing, was crushing for her. She felt listless and lethargic over this situation, compounded with the growing guilt as her father stressed more and more from the stress being piled up on him by all sides. Now graduated from college, Leshana was en route back to Baldurs Gate to make her way to Berdusk from Neverwinter before her ship was sunk by a nautiloid and you know the story ;P

After the events of BG3, Leshana forgoes the 2 month trip to Berdusk to see her family and headed straight south to her mothers' apartment in Candlekeep to research for a way to help Astarion with the whole "Can't go in sunlight" problem. (It's only when talking to him about her home life does she realize that they probably think she died at sea when her ship went down did she send a letter home to let him know what's up)

She grew very good at cold reading others (She got a lot of passed perception checks when interacting with the party) as a survival mechanism on how to interact with others. Honestly the tadpole group are probably the first people whove seen her without her masks since she was 9.

It's during her time in BG3 and to an extent, Astarion's influence, does Leshana learn to be a little bit more selfish and embrace her inner gremlin a little, and when she finally reunites with her father, she summons the family solicitor to formally abdicate herself from the line of succession (Part of why Aneirien dithered about it so much was because it would've killed him if he broke Leshana's heart by abandoning her like that, so part of her is still putting him first by taking that burden of off him, but she's finally free to become an adventurer like she dreamed of).

[heartofhubris-a]

HIIII tell us abt vik ong i am so interested in hearing abt him

HIIII oh my god my baby

here's what my very special boy looks like, he loves his green hair

Ok so. Some of his story is still filtering in, but I gotta stipulate this with Vik's not a great guy but he's not like. I mean look, it doesn't take much to be a decent person in Halcyon.

So. Vik had been born in Québec, Canada,* in 2238. Though thye started life in the countryside, allowing Vik a robust knowledge of guns and weapons, as well as general care of the land, promotions demanded taht Vik's family move closer into the city. Though none were too happy about the smaller house and the lack of privacy, they made due. His parents' middle management positions allowed for a cushy job if he or his brother, or his 2 sisters so wanted. Most of his siblings turned to Manuel labor instead, and Vik was able to get a decent job as a typist, where he was very happy. Unfortunately, this did lead to some mild arthritis in his fingers, though he does not mention that pain. Vik was well in his 50s by the time that the Groundbreaker and the Hope were about to take off. However, his knowledge from childhood was still marked as a skill if UDL ever wanted to poach him for guard or security details.

Now, still on earth, this is when Vik messed up. Propaganda always gets people. When he started hearing some of the conversations his family and friends were having, he got scared of what could happen, and reported them to the correct officials. Their fines were so high to some of the corporations, that most ended up agreeing to indentured instead of forfeiting their lives. Quickly, he changed from typing at a keyboard to holding a gun and reacquainting himself with looking down the sites on his guns. He fell back in practice quickly, proving himself a valuable asset for the frontier of this celestial system. After all, having the scientists on the Hope die immediately from the flora and fauna wouldn't be that smart.

Most of the people he knew ended up on the Groundbreaker and helped build Terra 2. Quite a few died from raptadons, though some managed to make it through the Fall of Cascadia. Others were kept on the Groundbreaker, but as Vik was the reason that most of his loved ones were even there, he was never mentioned, Ergo, Those that he ends up meeting on the Groundbreaker and Terra 2 have no idea the connection they share (Braxton Hecht was the son of one of his friends). Essentially, in trying to repair the damage he did to everyone he cared about, Vik lost everyone. He hoped that someone on the Hope would be a familiar face, though he functionally knew that he was finally, truly alone in the universe.

Half of his attempt of saving Halcyon, Viktor is mute, and only feels comfort tlaking when his crew is with him in some form. Each of his relationship is flavored slightly differently; with Felix and Parvarti, Vik is at ease and goofy, constantly telling dad jokes and rarely bringing up sad topics. He's always there to remind them they're valuable to him and the rest of the crew. Nyoka and Vik have spent a few too many nights at the table, and if anyone finds them passed out on the table in the morning, it's not mentioned. Ellie tried to keep Vik at arms length, and he respected it, but will still make an effort to remind her that she's still part of the crew.

Now, Vik realized he was gay when he was young, but never found a person who complimented his energy just right. He'd all but given up on finding a long term partner, happy as he was being a paternal figure to some people, and screwing around as he did when he needed someone in bed with him. Then, he met Max and immediately was taken with the anger that the Vicar had. The pure determination took Vik, and he decided within twenty minuets of getting the task to get that journal, that Vik would pull apart that Vicar and build him back up. In no small part, Max was what pushed Vik to actually save the colony, even if he never approached max about it. Vik had already decided this would be his last attempt at love, and if it didn't work, he'd be fine.

Only to end up saving Halcyon with the aide of a mad scientist.

*as a note, Vik is entirely able to speak french. He does not translate the journal Because "it's not french. It's Québécois". It is entirely french. Max walks in on Vik one night reading the journal and it spirals into a fight. They get over it rather quickly by. No. I shant say.

[nimmee]

Here's part 4 of Nanamin Kento headcanons, because I can't stop writing and having so many ideas right now (I know my writer's block is gonna hit me soon so I'm trying to get as much as I can written out)

Enjoy 💙

32. Kento likes doing crosswords and Sudoku. (it makes sense)

33. Contrary to popular belief he actually has a lot of friends from different walks of life. And not the shallow friends but he has a close circle of friends he can rely on professionally and personally. ( I personally think that he spent most of his early school years in Japan but for a year or two he actually went to other countries as an international exchange student that would explain how he is fluent in French and English apart from Japanese, also Dutch because he has a Danish lineage. It would also explain why he has friends at powerful positions all around the world ). One of his international friends who is quite a respected designer in Italy actually tailors all his suits. Also, (bear with me on this) his maternal grandmother could have had the tiniest amount of usable cursed energy that she completely used up when she made little Kento those leopard print ties. She did it to bless him and protect him from curses. Which also explains why he uses his tie as a binder to his "overtime" vow and the left out fabric to wrap his blade. (As they say blessings are more stable and long lasting than curses)

34. Nanamin still visits Yu's sister and her family. He regularly visited her after Yu died and hence formed a brotherly bond. She is married and has a little boy. Her husband and Nanamin are really good friends too.

35. Kento had a pretty wholesome childhood being an only child from both the family lineage. He was dearly loved by all his grandparents. He was pretty close with all of them. (I'm listing off all of their professions and talents here:

Paternal grandmother - she is a calm and very gentle woman doesn't speak much. She has been a housewife all her life. Her talents include cooking comfort food, calligraphy and book binding, handicrafts and origami, flower arranging.

Paternal grandfather - he is a quiet man talks less but is the warmest man you could find. A tad bit Conservative but loves and accepts Nanamin's mom as his own daughter. He is a professional knife and sword maker. His talents include sword forging, sword wielding, knows a lot about fencing and swordsmanship, bonsai, gardening, fruit picking.

Maternal grandmother - she is calm but one fiesty and strong woman. She has always been a housewife. She and Nanamin's paternal grandmother are best friends. She is quick witted and knows her way out of any situation. She is very logical and a genius at finances. Her talents include sewing and knitting, all kinds of clothing making, managing finances, playing traditional musical instruments (she is a quick learner and masters any traditional musical instrument in few months) . Turns out she has very small amounts of cursed energy which she reverses to use as blessings and use to make good luck charms, headstrong, quick - wit.

Maternal grandfather - as we All know he is Danish. He is a warm happy man, talks a lot and loves to cook, very gentle and Kind . He was born in Denmark but his family moved to Japan due to his father's employment when he was 2. He is fluent in Japanese, Dutch and English. He has two professional culinary degrees one from Japan and another from France. He has received culinary training in Japan and then went to France for his internship. He is a professional chef and owns a Michelin star restaurant. His talents include cooking, baking, growing his own vegetables, miniature making in his leisure time, also loves puzzles. He is also a skilled butcher - he could easily cut open almost All kind of meat to properly portion the pieces.

Nanamin's Dad - is an Architect hence his interest in Architecture when he was younger. He Talks a lot even though his parents are quiet people. Headstrong and very responsible person. Absolutely loves his wife and her cooking. His talents include puzzle solving like Sudoku, he is a trained sowrds man because his father is, he has his own Katana. He makes hilarious comic strips, is a gifted painter and loves going through all kind of comics international or local.

Nanamin's mom - is a pastry chef and owns her own bakery. She is generally quiet can be very talkative with right people. She is soft and gentle but she is fiesty and headstrong when she needs to be. She takes to her father and is one of the warmest person you could find. She has the ultimate say when she and Nanamin's dad are arguing. Nanamin's dad complies most of time because she has the most logical and reasonable arguments. She did train to be a chef but chose baking because she likes deserts (reminds of the Baker lady from Kiki's Delivery service). Her talents include baking and cooking, making different kinds of healing tea (most probably she unconsciously uses tiniest amount of reversed cursed energy she inherited from her mother). She is genius at knitting and quilting, managing finances has always been a good forte for her, growing flowers and decorating has always been something she was naturally good at.

[goodqueenaly]

If Daemon and Laena had a son, how do you think that would affect the Velaryons? With a legitimate grandson, would they want to leave Driftmark to HIM instead of Jace, who will marry Baela? I feel like in the OTL, they were OK with this situation since their real heir was Baela and her blood would continue Driftmark, but here she is not the real heir. "Baelon" is. Thank you!

To be clear, it doesn’t seem to have ever been the case that Jacaerys was the intended successor to Driftmark. Describing when Corlys Velaryon suddenly sickened in 126 AC, Gyldayn notes that his legal heir would nominally have been “his eldest grandson, Jacaerys … [sic] but since Jace would presumably ascend the Iron Throne after his mother, Princess Rhaenyra urged her good-father to name instead her second son, Lucerys”. Likewise, the green offer at the outset of the Dance specified that “[Rhaenyra’s] second son, Lucerys, would be recognized as the rightful heir to Driftmark, and the lands and holdings of House Velaryon”. I am also acting on the presumption that the son in question would have that same short-lived Prince Baelon whom Laena died giving birth to at the start of 120 AC (and that the rest of the history up to this point would have gone the same as well, of course).

All of that is to say, by the time this Prince Baelon would have been born (and certainly by the time he would’ve been a potential heir to Driftmark), I don’t think the Velaryons could have acknowledged this Prince Baelon as heir to Driftmark without severely compromising their position. After all, even if Lucerys hadn’t been formally named heir to Driftmark by 120 AC, he had certainly been held out as the (ostensibly) legitimate second son of Laenor Velaryon, with the probable expectation that either he or big brother Jacaerys (or even younger brother Joffrey) would succeed their “father” to Driftmark. To have Corlys suddenly declare after 120 AC “just kidding, I’d like to have my daughter’s son be my heir” would raise a pretty huge eyebrow as to why Corlys would be skipping over his apparently legitimate male-line grandson for a female-line grandson. With rumors already rampant about the true paternity of Rhaenyra’s “Velaryon” sons, such an act might have been no less than dumping wildfire onto the embers of rumor - seemingly publicly declaring that the Velaryons believed that Rhaenyra’s sons were illegitimate - which the green faction in turn might have seized upon, either to drum up more support against Rhaenyra and/or to push Viserys for a change in the succession. (Not to mention that Rhaenyra and Daemon had already agreed IOTL to betroth Jacaerys and Lucerys to Baela and Rhaena, respectively, by 120 AC; the Velaryons already had a means, however much they might have privately wondered about Rhaenyra’s sons’ paternity, of guaranteeing that Velaryon blood would inherit Driftmark in the future.)

Which is not to say young Prince Baelon wouldn’t have been important. As a roughly nine year old boy at the start of the Dance, it’s unlikely that he would have done much in the way of fighting - yet as the paternal half-brother of Aegon III, this prince would have been a very obvious choice as the young king’s heir presumptive (especially if he managed to stick around where Viserys had “disappeared”, and of course assuming he survived the Dance alive and relatively speaking well). Where Baela and Rhaena were both (Seven save the realm /s) girls who could only be expected to marry and provide the king male heirs of their bodies, this Baelon would have been a male heir, who could in turn continue the male line of House Targaryen. It’s too hard to speculate how history might have changed, but it’s interesting to consider.

[evilmageclub]

hadrian hieron :^)

y e s hadrian swordofsamothes..... a guy i love to put on spin cycle in my brain

sexuality headcanon: bi. this man is canonically bisexual To me, whether he ever admits it to himself is another question entirely

gender headcanon: cis man, though i don't feel particularly strongly about that. love a good trans headcanon, if he were trans it would add an interesting dimension to his doubling of samothes' paternalism (my samothes gender thoughts are another post. but very relevant here)

a ship I have with said character: samsam/hadrian and all variations thereof, hadrian/rosana. none of which i think are necessarily Good for the parties involved you understand but i love the drama

a BROTP i have with said character: hadrian and hella. i feel like all my answers so far are really obvious. but ofc i just love the way their arcs play off each other with hadrian's faith in hella measuring up against his wavering faith in samothes, and hella coming at faith from the opposite direction but ending up in sort of the same place of finding purpose through care and love for those immediately around her

a NOTP i have with said character: none as such, i dont think theres a hadrian ship you could suggest that i would reject out of hand. let him kiss gods, let him kiss ephrim or tabard..... actually no thats a lie there are some ships i dont like, for instance i don't like hadrian/hella. not just because hella is imo a lesbian but mostly because i prefer the weird god shit they each have going on. hella and hadrian lying in camp each having wild power-play-infused dreamsex with adelaide and samot respectively, each thinking the other cannot Possibly understand the level of god problems they have going on

a random headcanon: the whole coastal fishing town environment in aubade reminds him a lot of velas if velas werent a ruin, and on boat trips with his friends or samothes it is incredibly hard not to think about how he used to do all this (rowing, fishing, mending nets) out in velas harbour with his son. samothes never mentions his own son, but he does once let hadrian have a little cry into his chest (samothes tits the remedy to all ills) and they never speak of it again

general opinion on said character: fond of that man, wish him peace. though that wont stop me from putting him through the wringer on ao3

[divine-elixir]

Teehee. I....I want to talk about my kids. My babies. My spawn. My pookies.

If I could have pictures of them, I would put them in my wallet to show off to whoever even cares. You WILL look at them! *waterboards you*

I'm unsure of how old they are, as much as I'm unsure of the time difference between here and the Tey/vat I know. It probably doesn't matter much at all or shouldn't. All I know is that around the time I left, they were both at most no more than 3 years old and also around my height.

Are they children? Adults? How do half yak/sha and half whatever I am age? How do they function? What are their needs? Do they actually need to eat and sleep or did they just do it in my presence because they assumed it was normal? I have so many questions now, but I don't think I cared to think about it much then. I just winged it really.

I say wing it, but I didn't raise them at all. And uhhh, I have no clue what Xi/ao did. It certainly wasn't child rearing though, he put a spear in my oldest's hands quick. 2 months into existence. Something about making sure he knew how to defend himself. Fair enough. I do remember Xi/ao genuinely wanting to keep the both of them away from his line of work. Something something, making sure they would have something he never will and wanting them to have happy lives. He never said it out loud, but I know that's what his intentions were.

Honestly, I don't know why we even have kids. Low tier parenting. We just dumped them on Cloud Ret/ainer....I also dumped them on Ae/ther and Pai/mon because I love having free labor. (I only jest. They were fine with it, I'm not mean.)

Personality wise, I only have some idea of their temperaments. They were like, adhd vs autism. Hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby. My youngest, if you were to let him loose into the wilderness I assure you he'll go out of his way to obliterate any monsters on sight. Probably burn something down too. He isn't violent, but Xi/ao told me he was destructive and needed to be kept in check. Hmmm, honestly I think he just had a hard time staying still. He found meditation and "ade/pti business" boring, but I'm unsure if anyone or myself ever did anything for him. I don't remember him having friends either, and I think he did tell me the human kids found him weird. 😞

My oldest. I don't have much to say, he was really polite, quiet, and diligent in matters that interested him. He took that "ade/pti business" seriously too. And he certainly inherited my pacifistic tendencies. Like I said, I haven't much to say. He isn't boring I swear, he's just a really good boy who liked to show me things and info dumped whenever he got the chance. He got that den/dro in him. *headpats*

I can't say much about there interactions with each other or with Xi/ao. They took care of each other sure, but I wasn't around most of the time. With Xi/ao, from what I remember, they just sort of hovered around him quietly most of the time. Like, I swear he doesn't bite. Say something to him.

Hmmmmm. I know Tey/vat is all they know and it's their home and all. But a part of me wonders if they'd be willingly to part from it, even if just for a bit, and see other places. Do what I do, so there's a chance we could be together forever. I guess I'm just afraid of parting with them. I know I'm here right now and they're over there. But...hmm, I wonder if I've made a mistake making connections and having them, and just making attachments for myself. I'm not saying they shouldn't exist, I'm not cruel. However, I spent most of my time hiding and observing others when I first arrived in Tey/vat. If I just kept doing that it definitely would not have hurt to have left that world, but since it didn't turn out that way it does hurt. I didn't understand it then, but I suppose I've developed some kind of paternal? maternal? instincts recently. I can't fathom why they love and respect me when I was hardly present. I wasn't even around when they came into the world. Whenever I was around, they were glued to me, happy, and enjoyed hugs and all..... I just don't get it.

Thinking about it is making me hurt right now honestly. I nearly cried three times writing this and I'm unsure of how to go about coping. Probably why I don't bring up my kids the majority of the time despite my wanting to.

[grimmswan]

Unexpected Part 5

Grimm: Nick and Adalind

Unexpected Conversation with Sean Renard

Massive Canon Divergence. Does not follow the timeline of the show. Nick Burkhardt is dealing with a broken heart after his girlfriend leaves him without word or warning. Adalind Schade is dealing with a broken heart after finding out the man she loved had been sleeping with her mother on the same day her mother was killed. When Adalind discovers she is pregnant, Nick volunteers to be there for her through everything. Together, they discover how the unexpected might not be such a bad thing.

“So Adalind chose not to terminate her pregnancy.” Sean Renard said it like a statement.

“With all due respect, sir, maybe you should talk to Adalind about this.” Nick did everything in his power to remain calm, but the look on his always expressive face showed irritation at his captain.

Renard sighed. The last thing he wanted was to get on the bad side of a grimm, especially one that worked for him. But he had to know what exactly was happening and how it might affect his own life.

“This is not an interrogation, detective. I have no interest in getting into a pissing contest with you. My only reason for wanting to talk to you alone is to keep our private lives from being a part of the gossip around here. I heard rumors that you were with a beautiful blonde you had once saved, and who was now pregnant. Everyone saw Adalind storm out of my office, and saw you chase after her. Of course, a place full of detectives, everyone is trying to finger out the story.”

“Most are assuming Adalind is pregnant with my child. And that she stormed out of your office after she requested that I not be put out in the field, so I wouldn’t be in danger, and you told her no.”

“That actually might be the best story to go with. Adalind might be in harm’s way if my father’s side of the family thought I was the father of her baby. I’ll have to tell my mother, of course. But I rather wait until it’s closer tot he due date for that.”

“I hope you don’t expect Adalind to believe you told her to get an abortion for her own safety.”

“I don’t plan on having this conversation with Adalind. She would likely skin my alive the second I opened my mouth. I just wanted to inform you on some events that could be happening, since you’ve taken on the roll of Adalind’s protector and honorary father to the baby. And to ask if you planned on taking paternity leave when the baby is born?”

“I wasn’t sure if you would let me, since you know the real story.”

“Risk the wrath of a hexenbiest? I think I’ve pushed my luck far enough. When the baby is born, you can have six weeks off. That’s as long as I can spare you. As a detective anyway. As far as you’re grimm duties are concerned, you might want to talk to your wesen friends about that one.”

When Nick returned home that evening, he gave Adalind the good news.

“Renard is letting me have six weeks off when the baby is born.”

“That’s awfully generous of him. What’s the catch?”

“His mother might insist on being involved.”

Adalind sighed and snuggled closer to Nick as that sat on the couch.

“I suppose it would be cruel to keep her away from her grandchild, just because her son is a schmuck.”

Nick tightened his hold, kissed the top of her head and smiled, “It never hurts for a child to be surrounded by lots of people who love them.”

Adalind nodded her agreement. With her own mother dead, and her father not having any contact with her since she was four, it would be nice for the baby to have at least one grandparent involved in their life.”

“I wonder how Sean’s mother will react when she discovers that her son told a woman to get an abortion? And now another man is essentially taking care of his child.”

“I’m guessing that he’s going to be leaving out a lot of details. He already told me he thinks it better for everyone if his royal side of the family does not know he’s going to be a father. He said he believed you were safer with everyone thinking the father of your child is a grimm.”

“I seriously doubt that was the reason he behaved the way he did. He’s a selfish bastard who only ever thinks about himself. He only cared about obtaining power. Everyone else is disposable.”

“I warned him you wouldn’t believe his excuse.” Nick’s grin was wide. “If his mother is half as perceptive and clever as you, Renard might finally have someone knock him down a few pegs.”

[lynnedwardswrites]

Find The Word

Find some assigned words in your wip and post a snippet, then pick new words for the next people!

@frostedlemonwriter Thanks for the tag. My words are integrity, help, smoke, beer, munch

I want to tag the half-dozen people who started following me yesterday, but I don't know which of you are into games like this!

Your words are: ability, music, menu, meat, thanks

These are all from The Hare and the Jackal. I write in multiple POVs, so the perspective character is in parenthesis.

Help:

(Creed)

We’re twenty feet from the door when a friendly, paternal voice behind us says, “Pardon.”

I can feel a scowl on my face that’s a little too forceful for the part I’m supposed to be playing. I decide to lean into it.

Both guardsmen are standing there, but it was the tall guy who spoke. He extends a seele hand towards me. “Hail, my name is Corporal Kautner, and this is Sergeant Winter. What’s yours?”

I glance down at the hand but make no move to return the gesture. “Eodwulf,” I say, using a gruff, accented voice to disguise my own. Winter—Sergeant Winter, apparently—doesn’t seem to recognize it.

“Well, Eodwulf,” Kautner says, letting his hand hang another moment before dropping it with a smile. “Sergeant Winter here couldn’t help but notice that you seem to be in fit shape to serve our Prophet. Have you ever considered joining the Wolfguard?”

Eodwulf leans back, his frown deepening. “I’m not feran.”

Corporal Kautner smiles knowingly. “That’s quite alright, you don’t need to be,” he says, telling a half-lie rather than outing me in such a public space: all Wolfguard are feran, but the related Inquisition includes human members as well. “In fact, the Wolfguard is an honorable career for people of all races. I think you will find we have a place of respect for people like you. It also pays quite well. Cadets begin at fifteen morgens a month, lodging included, and you should be making forty after the first two years. I’d be happy to introduce you to the Recruiting Master tomorrow morning if you’re interested?”

Surreal flashbacks of my original “recruitment” overlay his words. They didn’t promise the urchin pay or respect then, even if both came later. They didn’t even give me a choice. They just caught me and threw me in a cart, like a stray dog.

My will ignites in a way that feels all too familiar: it gets hairy, grows fangs, gets indignant. Through my teeth, I growl, “I’m not interested.”

Smoke:

(Sovereign Morgenstern)

A contented “mmm” accompanies her next smile. “I missed you, too. I’ve been missing all of you, all of this—” she gestures to the chamber, to the whole castle “—for a long while now.”

The impossible tenderness in her voice pierces like a needle, straight through my heart, promising forgiveness, restitution, harmony. Sweet. Too sweet, like tobacco smoke. “Then come home, child,” I find myself saying, but already the warmth in my chest is starting to bleed away, replaced with a gnawing chill. It’s an instinct I’ve grown to trust. A warning. This is going too well. I check my sekelett impulsively, just to make sure there’s not something truly nefarious going on, but I have no investures I don’t expect. Still, there has to be a catch.

Beer:

(Creed)

"Jadoon—he’s one of the foreigners—may have tried outing her to the Governor, but nothing ever came of it. In fact, I think Jadoon might have been nabbed by the Inquisition,” he says, furrowing his brow. “And then the Sailgolds just moved their whole warehouse into the Brambles, trying to get around her ‘fees’ for the more desirable docks. That’ll never last. She’ll make life hell for them until they fall in line again.”

“She doesn’t seem very well-liked,” I note.

Fritz chuckles like I made a joke. “I guess that depends who you ask. By some people, she’s very well liked.”

Isabella grimaces impatiently. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, picking up her drink to take a sip with the same hand that’s still holding her fork.

Fritz chuckles again. “Well, they say: if you want to get on Lady Barbaron’s good side, get her on her backside.”

Isabella chokes on her beer and starts coughing loudly. I laugh as I reach over to clap her on the back, saying, “Well that certainly explains a thing or two.”

“You’ve met her already, I’m guessing?” Fritz asks, smirking. I nod, tossing a clean handkerchief in Isabella’s direction so she can wipe her face.

“Who’s they?” she croaks.

Integrity:

Got nothin fam 😬

Munch:

Same

[snowdropsandtigers]

Nine People to Get to Know Better

Tagged by @allthestoriescantbelies ! <3

Three ships you like: I am leaving so many out! Making this easier by choosing a theme, which is Classic 2000s Ships - Buffy/Angel from their respective series (though mostly BtVS), Buffy/Tara, and Sonea/Akkarin from The Black Magician Trilogy/Kyralia books.

First ship ever: Usagi/Mamoru from Sailor Moon! Or, as I knew it in the brief time between watching the DiC dub and going online, Serena/Darien. That first season in particular was so good for their angst, the star-crossedness, and the whole being drawn to their alternate identities. And then the manga was angstier…

To this day it—and it’s show—have informed my fondness for moon myths and fantasy.

Last song you heard: labour by Paris Paloma Looked up the link to put here and now I’ve seen the music video too!

Favorite childhood book: I have fond memories of reading and rereading The Spellsong Cycle series by L. E. Modesitt Jr. there was also this book called, I think, Children’s Treasury, which had many Hans Christian Andersen fairy tales in abridged form; it lived in my paternal grandmother’s house for years until she let me keep it. I also loved this slim volume called something like 100 Best Poems, along with a thicker one of collected poems from various authors. I remember my favorite poems were by Yeats and Byron. Oh! And The Gods of the Greeks by Carl Kerényi; I particularly loved it for having a page or two dedicated to the moon goddess Selene, since at the time it was easier to find information on Artemis when looking up the Greek moon myths. Artemis (and Hecate) were also interesting, but, well, Sailor Moon fan here. (I’d read online that Princess Serenity and Endymion, the past lives of Usagi and Mamoru, took from the myth of Selene and Endymion.) This was around when I was reading and collecting the manga for the first time.

Currently reading: Rereading The Naming by Alison Croggon, first in the Pellinor series; also revisiting the Sookie Stackhouse books, but in audio form! I’m on Living Dead in Dallas.

Currently watching: Being Human, the UK version. Also The Apothecary Diaries!

Currently consuming: A muscle relaxant, water, and some passionfruit juice.

Currently craving: Cold milk! But there’s none.

Anyone who’d like to do this, feel free to @ me if you do!

[lunarbroadcast]

❝ Just making the final adjustments, mother. ❞

•✦───✧ABOUT ME✧───✦•

Name ➺ Lyra / Micro

Age ➺ 18

Pronouns ➺ she/they

Sexuality ➺ bisexual

Interests ➺ Hazbin Hotel, baking, arts and crafts, cats, lego monkie kid, fortnite, batim

Aethy ➺ candy_cane (18+ ONLY)

NSFT blog ➺ @rosette-reverie (18+ ONLY)

RedSon rp blog ➺ @flame-thrwer

I AM PRO-PARAPHILIA , ANTI-CONTACT AND PRO-RECOVERY

not gonna talk about it much on main cause im scared to do so but yea :D

•✦──✧MAIN LINKS✧──✦•

• S/I list

• F/O list (PLEASE CHECK THIS OUT!!!)

• anon list

• Strawpage mailbox

• Github / ponytown about me

•✦───✧TAGS INFO✧───✦•

• 📨|| You got mail! - asks

• 💠|| Lyra rambles - normal posting

• 💻|| Lyra shares - reblogging posts

• 💌|| infernal letters- selfship tag 1

• 🍬|| SugarFlower - selfship tag 2

• 🌙🩸|| bloodmoon - selfship tag 3

• 📺|| lunarbroadcast - selfship tag 4

• 🌸|| StaticBlossom - selfship tag 5

• 📖|| ShatteredCanvas- selfship tag 6

• 🐍|| little bun troubles - selfship tag 7

• 🐈‍⬛🌹|| CursedRoses - selfship tag 8

• 💠|| decrypted feelings - selfship tag 9

•✦─────✧DNF IF✧────✦•

• IF YOU POST ANY SHIPS RELATED TO REDSON- i am VERY possesive over redson. I do nooot feel comfortable any ships with him (that sadly includes other selfships)

• big 3 pro-contact/neutral-contact paraphiles

• Basic DNI (homophobia, transphobia, racism etc)

• Vivziepop apologists

• zionists/israel supporters

• antis (nice/neutral are welcome tho! just be nice and respectful)

• Radqueers (hard block if i see one of yall lurking around-)

Im perfectly fine with any type of proshipper! You are all welcome here :D (i have certain shipcest tags blocked for my personal comfort)

•✦────✧CREDITS✧────✦•

• patern dividers (stars and moons, heart tuffted, etc) ➺ (cafekitsune)

• bar dividers ➺ (peachesboard)

• redson icon in the userboxes ➺ azuremist

• redson userboxes ➺ mee :3c

[daysofourlivesrecaps]

Tuesday, 25 July 2023

Wendy and Tripp are making out on the couch again, so naturally Li walks in and puts the brakes on that. Yet again.

And not for the first time it occurs to me that:

• Li was a top executive at a large company. He was probably bringing in six figures, and surely he has a little stuck away in savings.

• Wendy is an IT professional at that same company. Surely she makes decent money at that job.

• Tripp is a fucking doctor.

• the property values in Salem are ridiculously low. Like “the way your boomer relatives remember it being easy to buy a house” low.

So how the fuck is this living situation still happening?

(Whenever one of my viewing companions tries to apply real-world logic to this show, I threaten her with the spray bottle like she’s a cat poking around where she doesn’t belong. And I believe I may deserve a spritz for this one.)

Li then spends the rest of the episode reminding us about his disastrous date with District Attorney Melinda Trask.

But he continues to have all the screen presence of… when your screen goes dark because you don’t have a screen saver installed. Also I was here for that. It only happened last Thursday.

Trask, for her part, has doubled down on getting dolled up and is waiting for a new date.

But she’s early, and she runs into Sloan, so the two of them chat for awhile.

And while very little new information is exchanged in these scenes either (Sloan is pregnant; Trask tried to bug Li), they are at least interesting because these two performers are great and honestly I just want them to date. Or at the very least continue to be friends.

Because while I absolutely did not want Trask hooking up with Li, I do want her to move out of the periphery and into some stories where she isn’t just the last-minute antagonist. This very thing happened to Sloan not one year ago, and I loved watching it happen. It was like watching Chief O’Brien go from nameless guy driving the ship to chief engineer of Deep Space Nine.

Meanwhile, Eric and Brady compare notes on their respective storylines: Eric with his “Sloan and I are having a baby” and Brady with his “I threatened Kristen with a gun so now this is gonna be a whole thing.”

And that whole thing has led to Belle paying a visit to Kristen to see if she’ll maybe drop the charges.

Which is a ballsy move. Even ballsier: Kristen demanding that they re-revisit that custody agreement that Brady ripped up.

The custody agreement that she used as a negotiating tactic while she was hiding Rachel from everyone in her house. The one that Marlena inexplicably said everyone should just go along with to make this situation go away.

Now we’re just acting like this is an entirely reasonable thing for her to demand! Which is absolutely insane to me. But not in a fun soap way. Just in a “this feels a bit lazy” way. Kristen is a DiMera, for god’s sake. They’re supposed to be these amazingly devious strategists. But Kristen’s only moves seem to be “kidnap Rachel” and “make insane demands until everyone just starts treating them like they’re sane demands.”

AND IT ACTUALLY WORKS FOR HER.

Speaking of non-evil DiMeras, EJ continues to be a supportive partner, despite his nearly universal reputation to the contrary. This time he’s not tied up in the secret room so he can accompany Nicole on her visit to that expensive fertility doctor.

And OH NO, the doctor wants a sample of EJ’s DNA (just a cheek swab, you pervert) so she can rule out potential genetic defects in the child.

Which means someone might finally discover that Sloan falsified that paternity test. More importantly, it means maybe this storyline will finally start going somewhere because seriously, I thought we learned our lesson about running in place with the whole Wendy/Johnny/Tripp fiasco.

Back at the bar, Trask is getting impatient and calls the matchmaker (yes, these people are using a MATCHMAKER. In 20-the-hell-23) to find out when her date is due to arrive.

She is informed that the gentleman in question should be there any time now. And that he’ll be wearing a blue blazer.

And if any moment demanded a GOB Bluth-style “COME ON!!”, it’s this one.

[mt-musings]

Bluebell

Chapter 6

After being abruptly transferred to the BAU at what she suspects was Gideon's request, Cassie Boann struggles to find her footing. Shy and solitary by nature, the transition is made all the more difficult when Dr. Spencer Reid seems to take an almost immediate dislike to her. Unfortunately for them both, their respective areas of expertise leave them paired off more often than not. But when Cassie's past literally starts hunting her, Spencer is forced to consider that he might, in fact, not hate her at all.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Series Masterlist

6. Enjoy the Silence

Spencer awoke to the buzzing of the alarm from a restless night of sleep. He fumbled over the nightstand until he found his glasses, slipping them on with a groan. He glanced over at the other bed, unsurprised to find it empty. He’d yet to wake up before her. Maybe she was with Gideon again going over the profile or taking another one of her asinine runs.

He didn’t know why he was so bitter about her finding the break in the case. He knew he wouldn’t have felt this way had it been Derek or Gideon or Emily. Maybe it was because she had seemingly worse social skills than him or maybe because she seemed to spend more time working out than Derek. Maybe it was the fact that he knew he couldn’t have found the indentations in Kimi Medicine Stone’s bone even if he had known to look.

If he was honest he knew it was the special interest Gideon took in her, making sure she ate, assuring her insights were heard, treating her with the sort of quiet paternal warmth that he craved. He probably wouldn’t hate her so much if she didn’t seem to be stealing his spot as Gideon’s favorite.

He crossed to the dresser to change, knowing he didn’t have the energy to shower before the day began. Cassie’s badge and guns were still on the nightstand where she’d left them the night before, leather holster laid on top. She was the only one on the team--the only agent he knew--that used the old-fashioned detective-style double shoulder harness. She was the only one apart from Hotch that regularly carried more than her Bureau-issued S&W. 

Her bright blue running shoes gone, along with the FBI windbreaker she nearly always wore on her runs.

He snorted, shaking his head as he pulled on a sweater. Hotch would rip her a new one for being late to the briefing.

He felt a little bad about the sick sort of pleasure it brought him. After all, she hadn’t done anything to him, at least not purposely. He jumped at the sound of hammering on his door, throwing it open to find Hotch standing outside.

“Did Boann come back this morning?” he asked, the furrow in his brow more pronounced than usual.

“Not yet, I think she’s still on her run.”

“We’re meeting in Gideon’s room. Now.”

The rest of the team was already packed into Gideon’s room, crowded around an open laptop. Only he, Hotch and Gideon were dressed, the rest still in their pajamas.

Hotch shut the door, addressing the group. “Cassandra didn’t come back from her run this morning. Which is worrying considering the message Garcia received at 7:17 this morning.”

He nodded towards the computer where Penelope was waiting in obvious distress. “She left it on my work line so I didn’t even see it until I got in at 8:45—”

“Just play the voicemail, please.”

“Garcia, this is Cassie, I’m sorry for calling so early, but I think it’s important. I need you to look into the Delrey Resort in Whitefish. See if you can find a list of former employees, maybe someone who lived and worked at the resort, a lot of the rural tourist traps up here will have staff housing for groundskeepers or the like. I think he’s taking them—”

There was the sound of a blow and Cassie’s cry of pain before a deafening crash and scuffling followed by a second, masculine voice.

“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?”

A muffled scream and then the same voice rising in anger. “You Bitch!”

More scuffling and then Cassie’s voice, further away now, her voice slurred slightly.

“Left hand. I bit him. There’s fresh tracks—”

There was another thump followed by heavy footsteps. Then a car door opening and shutting and the sound of tires. Then nothing, until the voicemail timed out.

Emily covered her mouth. “Oh my god.”

“The voicemail gives us a time of abduction and a voice to put to our unsub.”

“Not to mention Boann said she bit him. He’d have to have a bandaged left hand.”

“I’ve already called the sheriff and he’s got his team canvassing the area, but we need to narrow down the area as fast as possible. He’s yet to call in a ransom and barring that he has very little reason to keep her alive,” Hotch said, looking between the group, “Spencer, you said she takes a run every morning. Walk us through her routine.”

“Um,” he said, thoughts racing a mile a minute, “Uh, I don’t know when she leaves, just early, really early. She wears these turquoise sneakers and turquoise shorts she washes in the sink every night and hangs them on the shower rod—”

“Reid, focus.”

“She wears her windbreaker. Her FBI windbreaker.”

“Where does she go?”

“I don’t—”

“Come on, think.”

“I don’t know, we don’t really talk. She usually gets back around 6:00, 6:30 and she just goes and takes a shower.”

“She never mentioned anything? Never brought back a coffee, something for breakfast—”

“She doesn’t eat breakfast. A couple days ago she came back with a bunch of vials filled with dirt. She was on the phone with someone talking about soil acidity. I didn’t hear the whole conversation.”

“Do you know where they are?” Gideon asked.

“In her bag, I think?”

“Go get them. She labels everything, maybe it’ll tell us where she was running. Grab her notes too.”

Spencer nodded, darting out the door. He didn’t know whether he felt like he was going to faint or throw up.

“It’s likely that the unsub has been following Cassandra since we arrived. She ran at about the same time every morning and he knew she was FBI because of the jacket,” Hotch said, glancing between the team.

“Chances are if he saw her taking soil samples he’d start to get jumpy, think she was on to him,” Derek added.

“Women usually stick to public areas, especially in unfamiliar settings,” Emily said, grabbing the map that Gideon had pinned to the wall, “That would make it a high risk abduction, even with how early it was.”

Gideon shook his head. “If she was taking soil samples it would have to be in a significant area and all the dumpsites were on the northeast side of town.”

Spencer burst back in, carrying Cassie’s satchel and a large, spiral bound notebook. Gideon looked up, taking the bag from him and dumping the contents out on the unmade bed.

“See if you can find anything in her notes,” he said, turning to the contents of the bag. Derek turned to Penelope.

“Baby girl, can you look up the last few calls Cassie made? Maybe figure out who she was talking about the soil samples with?”

“On it,” she said, blinking out from the screen.

“The vials are all labeled with coordinates—”

“I’ll look them up,” JJ said, taking the handful of vials.

Emily stared over the rest with Gideon. “She’s got a handful of pens, Chapstick, a couple of soil testing kits, receipts from the hardware store, her forensic kit—”

“It seems like she was trying to figure out if there had been a secondary burial of the bodies. I guess the acidity of the soil surrounding the bodies, the soil they had sent out for sampling, didn’t match the acidity of the area where they’d been buried.”

“The coordinates on the vials match up with the grave sites we found by the reservoir. All except for two that are about three and a half miles north of the last one. They’re at the very edge of the trail, by the reservoir itself,” JJ added, darting over to mark their locations on the map.

“Our first priority needs to be finding the abduction site so we can see what other clues we can find. She made sure to tell us she bit him which makes me think she’d have tried to leave as much behind as possible to help us. Every second counts.”

---

Cassie groaned as she came to consciousness, her head pounding so much it made her wretch. She hadn’t gotten a look at the unsub’s face, she wasn’t even sure if her phone had caught any of the assault on the voicemail. She hadn’t told anyone where she’d gone or left a note. He was going to kill her and let her rot up in the mountains for a few months until he dumped her body in a shallow grave down by the reservoir.

She was fucked.

She was going to die on the dirt floor of some damp, filthy cellar where the bastard would bleed her until her blood saturated the earth—She swore, hating herself for figuring out the reason for the pH imbalance just in time to start her own contribution.

“Miss? Are you okay?”

She whipped around, the movement making her vision swim. A little girl with frizzy dark brown curls and brown, doe-like eyes scooted forward out of the shadow, her hands tied behind her back. She wore a torn red sweatshirt and a patchwork corduroy skirt covered in wooden heart shaped buttons.

“Gracie? Gracie Ann Whorlin?” The little girl nodded, staring at her with furrowed brows.

“My name’s Cassie. I’m with the police, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Cassie turned so Gracie Could read the letters on the back of her jacket. She relaxed a little, scooting forward.

“Gracie, can you tell me about the bad man? Has he hurt you?”

“He slapped me because I was crying too loud.”

"Has he done anything else?"

“No. He just left me down here and told me to be quiet. He said he had to go hunting.”

Cassie leaned back against the wall, tipping her head back against the cool stone as she took what she hoped would be steadying breaths.

“Miss Cassie? There’s a lot of blood on your face.”

“I’m okay darling. Just a little dizzy.”

“I was dizzy after he hit me too.”

“Gracie, I want you to listen to me, okay? Whatever you do, I want you to stay behind me, okay? Unless I get him on the ground and I tell you to run, then I want you to run into the woods as fast and careful as you can. If its cold, like in the morning, I want you to keep the sun on your left side. Make an L with your finger and thumb and keep the sun on the L side. If it feels hot like afternoon and there’s no dew, I want you to keep the sun on your right side, the side that doesn’t make and L, alright?”

“Okay, I think.”

“My friends are looking for us. They’re gonna find you, I promise. Now can you be my big helper? Can you tell me if he tied my hands with plastic, tape, or rope?”

“It’s like a plastic bracelet. Your hands are purple though.”

“Thank you sweetheart. You’re doing so good, you’re such a brave girl. Now I’m going to need your help again. We’re going to try and play a trick on the mean man when he comes back, okay? Can you help me?”

Gracie nodded even though she still looked terrified.

---

“I’ve finally tracked down all the information you guys were looking for,” Penelope said, her usual bubbliness traded for solemn determination.

“Dazzle me, sugar,” Derek said, clicking his phone over to speaker.

“First off, I tracked down the information Cassie called for. Delrey Resort was closed in 1986 after the new ski resort opened up down the street and the business dried up. The owner, one Harrison Delrey, rented the cabins as apartments until his death in ’92. He only had three tenants and the rents basically only covered the taxes and minimum upkeep of the property. The son, Ethan, evicted the tenants and sold the land back to Whitefish on the condition that it wouldn’t be developed.

“Harrison Delrey used a company called Sorrell landscaping but they went belly up in ’98. Still tracking down employment records. As far as calls go, she called me, Gideon twice yesterday, got a call from a cell in Blackfoot, and had a back and forth of five calls the day before between a cell phone registered to Georgiana Allen. She’s a geologist working at the Smithsonian, she said Cassie was checking in on the status of particulates found buried with Kimi Medicine Stone. She also wanted to know if there was any way of figuring out soil composition in the field, which Georgiana told her couldn’t be done other than a rough visual analysis.”

“Thank you baby girl, you’re amazing.”

“Just find her, okay? I don’t want that to be the last voicemail she leaves me.”

“We will. I’ll call you when we find something,” Derek hung up, calling Hodge over.

“Garcia was able to track down information about that resort Cassie was talking about. It’s north of the reservoir trail and the town’s been letting it go back to nature. What if the fresh tracks she was talking about are going into the old cabins?”

“Gather everyone and tell them we’re going to be sweeping the area. I’ll call Gideon and Reid.”

---

Gideon squatted next to a great claw mark in the earth, dotted with brown-red drops of blood. They’d found a branch nearby with blood and black hairs stuck into the bark. She’d tried to crawl away, dug into the earth so hard they’d found a chunk of her fingernail torn off.

“Found her cell phone,” Spencer said as he clambered back up to the road. “She couldn’t have gotten to it, it was nearly at the bottom.”

Gideon didn’t answer, still staring at Cassie’s fingernail in the dirt. He tried to force away the flashes of memory it stirred, the nausea rising in his throat. He kept repeating to himself that she’d be fine, that she’d survived worse with less at her disposal, that she was stubborn and strong and bitingly clever, but it did little to quell the panic in his pounding chest.

He couldn’t lose her, not after everything, not here, not like this.

The ringing of his cell broke him away from his thoughts. He answered briskly, flipping it to speaker as Hotch relayed what Garcia had been able to find out.

“We’ll be by in five to pick you up. We’re going to center the search around the resort.”

“See you then,” Gideon said, turning to Spencer as he hung up.

“I need you to stay at the top of the trail in case she managed to slip away,” he said, eyes boring into Spencer’s.

“Why? If she escaped she’d run back towards Delrey Circle, it’d be the fastest route to help. It’d be completely illogical for her to hike all the way back.”

“That’s why she’d hike back. Much easier to lose the unsub in the woods than to chance him finding her on the open road.”

“It’s thousands of acres—”

“Spencer, I know Bebe. I need you to wait on the trail in case she comes through, okay?”

Spencer just stared at him, dumfounded for a moment before nodding.

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