#the shelter names are OOF

[faieyolk]

Finally finished ahhhhh

I have this mix of parent fantasy au in mind where Mihawk picked up some strays during his hunts and just settles down, trying to help the kids go undercover to school and stuff, i think it’ll be such a funny sitcom situation.

Might make mini comics of this au in the future, but i kinda wanna get better with perspective in art rn oof

So far, “Hunter’s Shelter” is the name i got for this au, but if you guys have suggestions, i’d like to hear them!

[goldlockets-and-redwine]

You're The Worst | Chapter 1

Pairing: Touya Todoroki x Reader

Word Count: 875 words

Summary: Paw's and Claw's has a fun staff. However, the nosy bad boy, Touya, loves to pick on you. What will happen when he notices the array of bruises hidden under your sweatshirts? Maybe he isn't so bad after all.

Author's Note: So, this fic idea has been in my mind for a while. I hope everyone likes it. This will be a multi-chapter fic as I don't have a ton of time to write. Oof. Please be patient with me. Also, I inserted my cat Thomas because it's almost been a year since he passed, and I think of him every day. I know. So self-indulgent.

TW: Domestic Violence (Not from Touya), Fem!Reader, Violence in general (There will be a fight, not in this chapter though.), drinking, smoking, cursing. Let me know if I missed anything!

“That looks like shit.”

Good god, I wish he would just shut up. This is the third time today he’s butted into my work.

“No, it looks great Touya. You’re just an ass with shit handwriting. Jealous much?” We looked over my work. The sign looked great honestly. I really outdid myself this time. In delicate script it read “Tom” adorned with little hearts around the name. I put up the sign on Tom’s’ kennel, a large grey and white cat sitting at the farthest possible corner of the kennel away from the door. “Do you have his bio?”

“Of course, what am I? Incompetent?” He made quick work of putting up his bio underneath the name card I made. He typed his up like normal. I gazed sadly at the big tom cat sitting in the cage. “Hey doll, he’ll get adopted. You always get too attached.”

I grimaced at the pet name. He always looks for a way under my skin. However, he took it upon himself to never call me by name. I need to come up with my own for him. Maybe he’ll leave me alone if I come up with something heinous.

“Some of us have hearts, jackass.” Wait, that one fits. Still not original enough. I glanced at him to see him already staring at me. If looks could kill. You would think working in a shelter there would be nice coworkers here. Everyone else was nice. Not this guy. His intimidating look didn’t help his case. Tattoos were everywhere but the one on his face gets the most frowns from potential adopters. The row of flames over his left brow. Wait is that… “Touya, did you redye your hair? You should do a better job of not getting that shit on your skin. You look insane.”

“Why you lookin’ at me so hard? Like what you see?” My face was already showing my irritation before, but now I could feel it twist in disgust.

“No. The hair dye stains are really not doing it for me.” I do a swift 180 degrees and make my way out of the cat room and into the lobby once more. “Hey Toga! Any new applications come in?” Her face lit up as she looked up at me. Her sharp canines stuck out as she smiled.

“(Y/N)! We had one come in for Mochi!” She was practically jumping out of her chair. “Dabi! Come and look at the place!” Touya leaned over the counter and looked down above the monitor as I walked around the desk. It was a beautiful house in suburbia with a huge fenced in back yard. “Mochi will love it, don’t ya think?”

“He’ll love it little vamp.” I said. My eyes hovered over the screen to notice the time. “You should head out. It’s 5:30! You know the boss won’t be happy about you staying over too much.”

Toga pouted, but I was right. Tomura gets so pressed when she stays over. It must be that big brother dynamic. She got up to gather her things for the evening and shut down the computer. “He’ll be fine, but I’ll tell him you guys said hi!” With that she gave me a big hug and skipped towards the door and out to the parking lot. Touya turned and stared at me as soon as he had locked the door. Without saying a word I got to work cleaning the lobby. Working with animals was messy and there was a mix of dog and cat hair being swept up. I heard Touya’s heavy boots moving towards the hallway leading to the dog kennels. I instantly relaxed and continued my chores, completely blocking out my thoughts.

-

“Doll,” My body was on autopilot as I put away the cleaning supplies. “Don’t ignore me doll. It’s time to bail.” I quickly finished putting things up and grabbed my bag. Both our footsteps synced as we made our way to the door. Touya held the door open. “Ladies first.” I could hear the cockiness in his voice. He wasn’t going to get a reaction out of me so late in the day. My car’s taillights blinked as I unlocked it. Today was a hot one. The evening sun was shining on me. I pushed up the sleeves to my sweater and was nearly to my car when I heard Touya’s deep voice closer to me than expected. “That’s a nasty bruise.”

The sweaters I wore for the last 6 months were to avoid these questions. It was no secret Kai, my boyfriend, wasn’t the best guy. His record was a mile long. No one would know he mistreated me, however. Kai made a good show of being a loving boyfriend while also being a piece of shit in every other aspect of his life. He won me over with gifts and treated me like a princess. He said I was his perfect girl. Do men treat perfect girls like this?

“Mind your business.”

Touya’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not a dumbass, (y/n).” With that he got in his black 5.0 mustang and pulled out of the parking lot leaving me standing next to my car.

[perfectfangirl]

notes after rewatching fallout s1 ep1

so once again like a crazy person [i've done this with star wars sequels before] i've decided to take three and half pages of notes over the course of an hour. i've been a fan of the games for at least a decade and i'm actually always watching lore content between the installments though so while i do know some minute details, within the show, there was some things i was interested in and curious about that i just decided to jot down. some of this may be things discussed already and some of it might be something i wasn't sure if anyone brought up before but anyways! maybe i'll do the whole season, but here's my ramblings • them titling the episode "the end" was when i knew i'd love the show • ok but i really wonder if cooper can still do those party tricks? he was really good at them and lucy would probably love them too 🥺 • thinking back, the radio in the first scene mentions not knowing where the president is--- beginning to wonder if he was the guy sitting in on the vault tec meeting • just realized they introduced the mr. handy robot in some of the first scenes • ten years of nuclear threat according to anchor but the show is careful not to give away all the cards because why does the weather anchor make it seem like they know when the bomb will drop? idk but birthday boy mother turns off tv real "head in the sand" like • the nat king cole song that's playing though [wondering if the song is mirroring specifically cooper's feelings about barb despite everything hmm] • horse's name is sugarfoot 🥹 • him having to pay alimony... wonder what the prenup? was like... [still think he probably loves barb 😞]

• them calling him a pinko despite him being an architect of vault boy's persona, a quintessential presentation of a "man's man" acting as a cowboy, a real cowboy, a former marine--- wondering if there was a smear campaign after his situation with barb and vault tec, him working children's parties leads me to believe... • did the kid's say the birthday boy's name was boyd? [if so, there's another character in the games with this name and this is also the name of a character walton has played in another series, funny] • weather man show's up again distressed, wondering if we'll get more info about that day • everyone ignoring, cognitive dissonancing their own nuclear annihilation is so prescient if not disturbing and damning

• him teaching janey the thumb thing ☹️ • cooper's voice when he says "let me see if i can't rustle you up a piece" 😩 • janey being the only one to notice the first bomb • the fear in cooper's eyes • cooper being in denial one last time before realization sets in • people becoming animals the moment they realize what's happening--- one guy punches his friend not letting his family into the fallout shelter • people getting into their cars and cooper onto his horse to escape--- wonder how fast they could be since it doesn't seem you could outrun nuclear annihilation

• lucy being raised so well under the circumstances 😔 [hope she never becomes her father] • i haven't trusted steph since episode one • lucy being a teacher [amongst other things] and asking maximus about what happened after the bombs fell makes so much sense [and also much like another person suggested is an interesting juxtaposition to cooper's pre war knowledge] • lucy showing how skilled she is for being a marriage candidate when in reality we are seeing someone fit for the wasteland is crazy on second watch • is lucy not watching a cooper howard movie with her dad? hello??

• them reading "war and peace" in the family book club is rich • lucy [thinking] she's not good at guns, ironic • steph having to step in like a sisterly type because lucy's mom isn't there 😞 • the wedding dress on lucy being ill fitting, tight as symbolism for lucy not truly "fitting in there" and being constrained [foreshadowing] oof • the vault boy sign in the back saying "don't lose your head" lmao • didn't catch the "cousin stuff" until someone mentioned it on tumblr and twitter 💀

• the flashback we see of lucy ending up being almost a false memory, a misrepresentation of her actual memories, that she has been on the surface, in the sun • norm taunting lucy about her future husband being "anybody" and a "cannibal, crammed full of tumours" 😭 unfortunately for ghoulcy, this was some of the heaviest foreshadowing [the raider also could have been one too] • why didn't hank recognize moldaver? • so many things i still don't understand about vaults 31, 32, 33 • the growing realization they are raiders was pretty funny to me lmao

• moldaver having to sit through the disingenuous lies of hank ugh • norm going into vault 32 like they wanted them to know what was up? or is that just how vault doors work? they used lucy's mom's pip boy [that hank lied about burying] • lucy putting norm in a storage vault, she really is so strong • the handed down wedding dress getting messed up • i am curious if the raiders [shady sands survivors?] only mostly harmed vault tec aligners but maybe not • the way hank and steph retaliating a little too well • hank acting like he doesn't know moldaver when everyone really does know moldaver • moldaver telling lucy she looks like her mother is really such a tipoff

• realizing maximus is getting bullied 😭 • dane... might love maximus a little idk • from latrine duty to basically ruling over the brotherhood of steel • they really showed some dude jacking it lmao it's just normal i guess 💀 • maximus being defeated and having a rightful outburst of emotion, poor guy • the poster saying "the outside world can never harm you"--- funny • chet would've died up there 😭 • them not opening the vault back up for her, wondering if the vapourized bodies are from the initial bomb drop or the subsequent shady sands ones • dane almost gets maximus killed three times tbh • maximus joined the brotherhood of steel to get back at what vault tec did, essentially hank's doing, hank has many enemies • knowing the enclave, it makes sense why siggi is hunted • cooper the ghoul's introduction though • the bounty hunter saying his captors dig cooper up every once in a while to cut pieces of flesh off him 😞 no wonder cooper acts the way he does 😔 he's been taken advantage of, no wonder he doesn't trust anybody and is horrible to everyone • "why is this an amish production of "the count of monte cristo" or the weirdest circle jerk i've ever been invited to?" why would he say this 😭 • cooper's... been invited to circle jerks 👀 • does the bounty hunter know the ghoul is cooper howard?

• him not harming the chicken, him healing dogmeat, there's something there, folks • people only digging him up to use him again 😞 • what a coincidence he's dug up just as lucy leaves the vault • "i do this shit for the love of the game" he's a character, he's playing a character, real theatre kid • hence why cooper is introduced as "the ghoul", cooper is long gone • "us cowpokes, we take it as it comes" something about this lineee

[separatist-apologist]

How are Taco and Waffles? Do they like Pickles?

Oof, I was hoping no one would ask- it still feels very painful. Waffles passed away back in March- she was very sick and it was all very quick and I don't think she had a particularly good death (because she fought the sleeping medicine and the whole thing still feels so very traumatizing).

In the aftermath, Taco because extremely depressed. I didn't know dogs could grieve like that, but he's a chonky guy and he lost so much weight you could count the notches in his spine. He wouldn't eat, he didn't want to play, he just laid around all day EXCEPT when we worked, and then he just destroyed everything he could get his teeth into.

So in June, I told the little MB's we could just go and look- no puppies- and if we saw someone we liked, we'd think it over on the weekend and then if it still felt good, we'd go back. Which of course blew up in my face because Pickle's was the nicest dog in the noisy shelter. What's crazy is that you can just walk into the humane society and an hour later walk out with a dog. They just take you at your word if you're willing to hand over money.

So we brought her home. Her shelter name was Dim-Sum and we kind of cycled through some options before Pickles. We tried to keep her and Taco separate because we weren't sure if he'd like her, but he broke into the room we were keeping her without anyone noticing and when we DID notice, he was laying right next to her licking her ear.

He's chonky again, all dog smiles and playing with toys. When he won't come into the house quick enough before taking the kids to school, she'll nab him by his collar and bring him in anyway. She's a little dog thief- she'll pull food off the counter for them to share (she's long).

I like to think Waffles is still here in the halls, watching us. I think she's at peace, which she deserved, but I miss her. The new dog doesn't really fill the hole, but seeing her bounce around makes me think that the love you have doesn't really fade, it just changes shape. I see so much of Waffles in Pickles- all her best qualities.

[daresplaining]

I'm going to need to know your FULL opinion on the erosion of Elektra Natchios in The Red Fist Saga ASAP!

OOF. Okay, here goes...

Elektra's role in the Red Fist Saga directly follows the Woman Without Fear mini-series, so I feel like I should start there, especially since I haven't really talked about it yet on this blog. Woman Without Fear was an Elektra solo comic that came out just as Devil's Reign was ending and the creative team was gearing up for the Red Fist Saga. The mini-series's purpose was to introduce big, shocking changes to Elektra's origin story. These changes didn't end up having much to do at all with the Red Fist Saga, or with anything else really, but they did functionally strip her of her agency and autonomy and made her motivations instead revolve around Matt. Now, Elektra's origin story has changed before. Frank Miller himself gave us three versions: the original, introduced in Daredevil volume 1 #168 and #190, a slight variation in Elektra: Assassin (he changed the timeline a bit and modified the character of Elektra's father), and then an entirely new, in my opinion much less interesting version in Man Without Fear-- which was not intended to be part of the 616 continuity, though that didn't stop later writers from drawing from it, including Zdarsky, who seems to have used it as a core text to inform his characterization of Elektra in general.

I know you know Elektra's original origin story, but I'll provide the general gist for anyone who might be unfamiliar: Elektra Nachios was the daughter of a rich Greek diplomat and his wife. Her mother was gunned down by assassins while pregnant, but Elektra survived. Her father, now paranoid and fearful, put Elektra in martial arts classes from a young age, while also keeping her sheltered to protect her from harm. She ended up attending college in the US, where she met Matt Murdock, another sheltered kid with a beloved but overprotective father. They fell in love, but the magic was destroyed when Elektra and her father were taken hostage by terrorists. Matt tried to be a hero, and Elektra's father ended up getting killed. Shattered by grief, Elektra left school and traveled across the world to train with Stick, who had trained her childhood martial arts teacher before casting him out (in Elektra: Assassin, the timeline is slightly different; Elektra trained with Stick before attending Columbia, though the end result is the same). Stick saw Elektra's skill, but judged that she was too emotionally compromised to complete the training and kicked her out. Elektra devised a desperate plan to prove herself to Stick: infiltrating the Hand and taking them down from the inside. She failed tragically. Turned cynical by grief and hardship, she used the skills she had picked up from all of her training as weapons to protect herself from a harsh and unforgiving world. She carved herself a life from the tragedies she had endured. She became an assassin.

Note that I mentioned Matt's name a grand total of two times in that synopsis. It's not to say that Matt isn't important to Elektra, of course he is, but he isn't that important to her origin story. The star of this beautiful tragedy is Elektra, as she should be.

Woman Without Fear introduces something new-- at least, new to the comics (more on that in a moment). It takes the Elektra: Assassin timeline and suggests that she trained with Stick when she was still a child. (It also brings in things from the Man Without Fear Elektra origin, but I don't think I'm going to get into that here because that is a whole other rant and this post is long and tangent-y enough already). It then suggests that when Stick rejected her, she still ended up with the Hand-- but not of her own will, with the intention of destroying them. No! She was successfully recruited. And once the Hand had her in their clutches, they sent her out to go after another target: Matt Murdock. In this shiny new backstory, Elektra and Matt run into each other at college not as two kindred spirits, but because Elektra was ordered to hang out with him in order to bag him for the Hand...before, oh no!, accidentally falling in love with him. To add extra insult to this character assassination, we're told in the main series that even her behavior during her father's hostage situation was intended as a test for Matt.

What this change indicates to me is a fundamental lack of understanding of Elektra's character; or worse, a lack of respect for her complexity, or a conviction that she operates at her best as a tool to further Matt's narrative.

What is possibly most baffling to me about all of this is that this change had pretty much no bearing on the Red Fist Saga. Why was it made? What was the point? The term "MCU-ification", referring to changes being made in Marvel's comics that seem aimed at aligning them more closely with the MCU, gets thrown around a lot-- possibly too much-- but this really does seem like a case where there's no other clear explanation for the change other than to shift 616 Elektra's backstory closer to that of her live action counterpart. (In the Netflix show, Elektra recruited Matt for Stick; something I, as a huge Stick and Elektra fan, actually thought was a cool What If?/alternate universe because it presented an opportunity to explore a different take on their relationship). The new backstory is mentioned a few times in the main Daredevil series, but otherwise it seems irrelevant to the plot. And that's because Elektra herself is kind of irrelevant to the plot. She seems to have three purposes in this story: 1. To serve alongside Stick as an exposition machine and provide details about the Hand/Fist/Pinky Toe/etc.; 2. To be someone Matt loves and thinks about in moments of danger and conflict (despite the fact that they have very few moments of actual emotional connection in this story, despite getting married!), and 3. As a warm body onto which Matt can project his perpetual internal musings on good and evil ("Elektra was Bad, but she is Good now. She, like all people who have done bad things, is still worthy of God's love and is capable of rehabilitation, and look! Her decision to take on the Daredevil identity is proof that she is now Good! She has become a worthy soldier of God." Man, I wish I was exaggerating.)

Elektra's appearances in Daredevil comics have always centered around Matt to some degree, simply because it is his comic. There's miles of difference between reading a DD comic with Elektra cameos and reading an Elektra solo series. But that doesn't mean it isn't frustrating to have comics like the Blackman/Del Mundo run, or the Dark Reign solo tie-in, that delve so deeply into Elektra's rich psyche, that truly do look at her worldview in a way that is complex and morally difficult and so, so compelling, and then to have comics like this where she barely even feels present because so little effort has been made to do anything other than slap some vague morality lessons onto her and make sure she and Matt sleep together every other issue.

[aperrywilliams]

The Reid’s Effect (Spencer Reid x GN!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader.

Summary: Penelope and Luke have been nagging Spencer to get a pet. Spencer isn’t very convinced but ends nonetheless at a dog shelter’s door. He hasn’t had the chance to go inside, though.

Word Count: 1.3k (short, for a change)

Warnings: Dogs? (if that is a warning). Just fluff.

A/N: Spencer Reid, dogs, and meet-cute. What else can I ask for?

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

I don’t think it's a good idea. I never thought it was, and I don't think it is. But Garcia and Luke have been very insistent lately.

I know they have good intentions, but what would I do with a pet? I barely owned a fish once, and it's better not to tell how that turned out.

But here I am, in front of a dog shelter near my apartment complex. I’m not planning to go inside, though; I’m just mulling the idea and reciting all the reasons why I should keep walking home.

It's a bad idea. Period.

I’m about to resume my walk, but I freeze when I see a dog running toward me and someone chasing it, calling its name.

“Roco! Stop!”

But the dog must be deaf because it never slows down a bit.

As I see it approach, I do the math: 70 lbs are running at 25 miles per hour. Dear God.

I should have stepped aside, but when I realized it was too late. The animal collides with me.

A sudden “oof” is all I can say when I lose my balance falling to the ground.

“Roco! What have you done?! Bad dog!” the presumable owner chastised the animal while clipping a leash to his collar. That's when they pull the dog off of me. I am still on the floor, trying to figure out what happened. As I sit, I inspect my body, looking for cuts or bruises, but I only see some dirt and dog hair on my clothes. Great.

“I’m so sorry,” they say, offering me a hand to stand up. That is when I look up and see them.

Wow, so beautiful, I thought. And I just made a fool of myself, beaten on the floor by a pet—what a sight.

With frightened eyes, they kept staring at me. Concern over their face noticing I couldn’t speak.

“Are you hurt? Do you need me to call someone to check on-?”

“Oh. No. No. I’m okay,” I say, accepting their hand to stand up.

That hand feels so warm and soft in mine. It's a very nice feeling. I would have liked to hold it for a little bit longer.

Hey Reid, what about the pathogens that could be transferred right now? For a strange reason, I don’t care. Maybe it is the way they are looking at me or the way inspecting if I’m hurt. I don’t know.

As I brush the dirt off my clothes, the apologies come again.

“I’m so sorry. Roco is a bit intense sometimes. I didn't notice when he let go of the leash. I tried to reach him. I'm so sorry.”

They look so embarrassed right now that I don't have the heart to say what consequences could have a reckless action like that.

Although those consequences made us cross paths, so I don't think it is a terrible thing right now.

“It's good that I was in the middle of his race then. So you could catch him before he ran wildly across the street,” I point, trying to make the whole thing a little bit lighter. And I think it worked when I saw them laugh.

That laugh? Heavenly music to my ears. I have never been keen on the deliberate expression of feelings, but on them, I don't mind if that leads to hearing their laugh again.

“You’re right. Though, I doubt it's what you expected to happen on your walk,” they pointed, petting the dog’s head as the animal poked their leg to call for attention.

Shush, you have the privilege all the time. Let them stay with me for a couple of seconds. I plead to the animal in my mind.

“Oh no. I do this all the time.”

What? What am I saying? Joking about being hit by a dog in the street? I don't feel like me at this moment, to be honest.

“Well, Roco and I thank you for your service. Right, buddy?”

As a cue, the animal starts to wiggle his tail, looking at me with his tongue out.

Where is the Reid effect?

“My pleasure,” I respond, giving my best less-awkward smile. They grin back, and I swear it’s the new Wonder of the World.

“Thanks again, uh - Sorry I didn’t ask you your name,” they say.

Oh. They want to know my name.

“Spencer.”

“Right. Spencer,” they repeat, and my name sounds so good rolling from their tongue that I get goosebumps.

Get a grip, Reid!

“I’m (Y/N). And you already know Roco,” they point to the dog, who barks at hearing his name.

“Yeah. I already did. But our first meeting was a little rough?, so it’s nice to greet you properly, Roco,” I tell the dog, who is waging his tail faster and approaches to tap my legs with his two front paws.

They laugh at the dog’s reaction. I could be used to that.

If only I could have the nerve to ask for their number. What are you saying, Reid? You’re not Derek Morgan. Even if you could, they wouldn’t give it to you.

“I think he likes you,” they say casually, tightening the leash a bit so the dog doesn’t bounce over me. I smile, red tinting my cheeks as if the compliment were liking them and not their dog. Wishful thinking.

I don’t know what else to say or do. Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I try to accept the idea I should let (Y/N) go and I should go my way. To a cold and dull apartment, never again having the privilege of marveling at their presence or hearing their beautiful voice.

As I'm about to face my fate, Roco starts barking again, causing (Y/N) to kneel in front of him.

“What’s it, buddy?”

At the cute nickname, the dog licks their face affectionately, and (Y/N) laughs.

"Oh, that’s so? Do you think he’ll accept?" (Y/N) speaks to Roco, who responds with another bark. Maybe at another time, I would find it a little too much to see someone talking to their dog like that, but now it’s the opposite. I think it's sweet. I think (Y/N) is sweet.

Standing, (Y/N) turns their gaze to me, a shy smile gracing their lips. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what is this about. (Y/N) notice my confusion.

“Roco is still very sorry for what he did and suggested I could buy you a coffee as a peace offering.”

My jaw drops a couple of feet after hearing the words. My mind is trying to catch what is happening.

But my astonishment is confused with discomfort, so they quickly speak again.

“Sure, if it is something you could be interested in. You don’t have to, of course,” they added, almost stuttering. That’s new. It’s always me who stutters in situations like these. Who do I want to fool, anyway? Something like this had never happened to me before!

“Yes!” I suddenly blurted, almost making (Y/N) jump. Crap! Can I be less noticeable in my eagerness? “I mean, yeah. It’s something I could be interested in,” I clarify, trying to disguise the sweat in my hands and the pounding of my heart. (Y/N) nods, smiling widely.

“Great! Yeah, that’s great,” they responded, now looking at Roco. “He accepted our offer, buddy,” (Y/N) says and returns their gaze to me. “What do you think? There is a very nice pet-friendly coffee shop two blocks from here. Of course, if you don’t have to be in another place right now.”

Believe me, I wouldn’t think of being somewhere else.

“Oh, don’t worry. I have plenty of time. Shall we?” I offer, signaling to where the coffee shop is.

“Sure! Let’s go,” (Y/N) replies, smiling as they cue Roco with the leash to start walking.

Who would say that Penelope and Luke’s idea ended better than I expected?

Even better, could this be the new Reid’s Effect? I think I need to do more research about that.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey

[littlejuicebox]

Protect the flames from the wild winds

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Chapter number: Four

Themes: BG3, slow burn, original female character x astarion, dialogue heavy, mostly canon behavior, angst, gore

Masterlist: Click here.

Song inspiration: “Icarus" -- Bastille

Notes: Oof. Battle scenes are hard. I know this is a little shorter than the other chapters but wow it was a lot of moving parts to keep track of! Leave a comment if you have a suggestion or any feedback. :)

-----

The smell that confronted them outside the tent was vile; a swirling, dizzying aroma that was both metallic and saccharine. Astarion's stomach lurched as he broke through the tent, but he ignored the nauseating sensation, shifting his focus to towards the center of the campsite.

Bright rays of early morning sun assaulted their vision, a break in the gray clouds allowed the first rays of daylight to blaze into their shelter. The soil was caked in thick wads of mud and debris; it was clear last night's storm had done its fair share of damage. Deep pockets of water were spaced throughout the camp, and Astarion lamented the hostile terrain, which proved to be horrible for either travel or battle.

Karlach was positioned near the middle of their tents, her large fists bunched, no weapons on her person; Scratch was beside her, hackles raised, still emitting a rumbling warning to their intruder. A quick glance around the area revealed that a cautious Gale and Wyll were present, both hanging further back from the intruder, expressions laced with confusion and casting hands held at the ready. Lae'zel and Shadowheart were, notably, nowhere to be found.... a curiosity for another time. Just in front of the silver-haired elf stood Wren, her scimitar held low in her dominant hand.

Astarion gripped at the hilt of his own weapon as his scarlet eyes narrowed towards the stranger in their midst. What gall this man must have, to walk into a circle of unknown tents so brazenly.

"Ah... hello fellow wanderers. Forgive the aroma." The man stood, only a few paces between the tiefling and himself. His body was stock-still as he eyed the other party members. "And, apologies for the poor first impression." He added with a humorous smile flashed their way; his hands were lifted, fingers wriggling to show he wasn't holding a weapon.

"Enough with the apologies, mate! Who the hells are you and what do you want?" Karlach's enraged voice was an acute contrast to the good-natured tone she always favored with her campmates. Subconsciously, Astarion admired the full power of her intimidation and her innate ability to wield both sides of her nature -- a lion in a sheep's costume around her friends. Wren remained stoic as she expertly navigated herself around the sinkholes, focused on pushing herself closer to the center of camp. Her honey eyes kept flashing between the red woman and the burly, long-haired man; the vampire could feel the wheels turning inside the little bird's head... she was formulating a plan and running a million scenarios through her mind all at once.

"Gandrel. My name is Gandrel. And I swear I mean you no harm... I am simply passing through. I am need of assistance with my hunt and hoping to find aid from the hag of these bogs... if I can afford her blood price, that is."

The sharp chortle that exploded out of the ranger ripped Astarion's attention away from the stench-riddled man. Wren hissed, voice full to the brim with vitriol, "What a fool you must be... both to walk into our camp as if it belongs to you and to seek out a hag."

The ranger's scarred lip was curled into a sneer unlike anything Astarion had witnessed from her during their travels. He felt the fury and distaste radiating off of the half-elf as she spat out her words. Wren had quickly crossed the camp with expert footwork and she had positioned herself to face the intruder nearly head on. Karlach remained fixed in the same position, muscles coiled like springs, waiting for Wren's next move.

Gandrel nodded his agreement with a wry smile. He did not seem interested in taking on a group when he was so heavily outmatched. 'Smart man...' Astarion thought, head cocked as he watched the encounter play out.

The long-haired hunter rolled Wren’s insults off his shoulders and continued, calmly. "It is true. Hags are dangerous... and tricky. But I am afraid my trail has run dry and the task I have at hand is quite urgent... I am hunting a vampire spawn."

As the burly man revealed his target, the parasites in everyone's minds reared their bodies in unison, their offense soaring through the group in a domino effect. Gandrel takes the silence from the group as a signal to continue on with his explanation. “I am on strict orders to return him to Baldur's Gate and—AGH YOU BITCH!—“

The vampire's red eyes caught the glint of a blade just as a deafening howl of pain rang through the bog. To his surprise, Wren stood practically on her tip toes, holding the hilt of dagger in her non-dominant hand (where had she been hiding that?). The barbed edge of her blade was lodged soundly in the Gur's eye, and she twisted the hilt of her blade violently, grinding it further down into the depths of his socket. The brunette woman's scimitar simultaneously burred a hole into the man's abdomen with a sickening squelch.

Ribbons of red shot out of the intruder's newly opened orifices as he roared through his pain in a flurry of curses. Wren may have had the element of surprise, but it was quickly apparent that she was no match in physical strength or close-combat prowess when compared to the outsider. The large man tackled the ranger to ground with a crack — 'Her bones or his?' — and his mammoth hands drew desperately around her face.

The Gur's strength was enhanced by a potent mix of agony and adrenaline, exploding him into a fit of violent rage, Wren his only target. One thumb was lodged firmly in the brunette woman’s right eye socket with ease and the other giant paw held her chin in a vice-like grip. The burly male smashed Wren’s head haphazardly into the ground below, sprays of blood salting the earth; the blade that had taken purchase in his eye clattered to the ground. Wren still clung to her scimitar but was unable to wield it to her advantage while under the overpowering weight of the stranger.

Astarion shot forward with his dagger raised, but the mud-riddled terrain stuck to his legs and pulled him into an infuriatingly slow pace. He felt his anger ricochet through his body, cursing the bog and everything in it to the nine hells as he was forced to watch his female allies face the man’s wrath. The warlock and wizard anxiously studied the encounter, their keen eyes searching for an opening; both the spellcasters were painfully aware that they risked hitting one of their allies in such a close fight. For a brief moment, Gale's attention flicked to Astarion and he cast a longstrider spell towards the pale-elf, hoping to aid the rogue's advances. Day later, Astarion would reflect on the fact that it was the first time the wizard ever offered him a hand in battle.

The sturdy stranger landed a final, wrathful blow to Wren's face just as Karlach bulldozed into the Gur, knocking him prone. The female soldier straddled either side of the monster-hunter’s torso, pummeling him with her bare fists as she bellowed a war cry. Scratch lunged forward and grasped the stranger's forearm in his maw, ripping a chunk of flesh from limb.

The Gur grabbed Wren’s bloodied dagger from the ground and stabbed half-blindly at the dog; the blade sliced at the animal's maw and shocked it into retreat. Another swift strike to Karlach left the dagger securely fixed in the side of the tiefling's knee. That searing shock of pain halted the red woman’s onslaught just enough for Gandrel to toss Karlach aside and catapult himself back toward the brunette he'd marked as his quarry.

The ranger was back on her feet now, trails of blood leaking from her eye socket and the gaping wound near her temple. Her hair was caked with filth and crimson; she'd dropped the weapon she'd clung to moments ago. She was swaying, her vision blurred by the endless waterfall of blood coating her face. A sick, twisted smile spread across her mouth as she welcomed the Gur’s tackle, willingly crumpling like a ragdoll under his weight as he snapped his fingers around her neck.

Astarion finally made it to the center of camp, whispering a small prayer of thanks to the gods that never answered him for Gale's clever spellcasting. As the vampire readied his dagger to join the thrall, a burst of blue energy shot through the Gur, forcing a strangled scream from his bloodied mug. Wren echoed the outsider's cries, hands gripped around his beefy forearms. She was a conduit to the energy she’d summoned in her fury, and an overpowering crackle of electricity broke into buzzing fractals around the two.

The dense wetness of the swampland gave immense power to the lightening's current. A dome of jagged blue lines surrounded Wren and Gandrel; the electricity buzzed threateningly as it snapped its energy around the camp. Karlach made the mistake of reaching for the Gur and was punished with a jolt that knocked her prone. The Gur could no longer scream, now paralyzed in the half-elf woman’s grasp, but Wren was still hissing a groan of effort through clenched teeth. The ranger was exhausting all of her energy with the force of her spell, and all at once the azure streaks of lightening reverberated through the sky and dissipated. The Gur's body was still situated over her frame as her arms dropped with a squish into the bogland.

Astarion plunged the final few paces forward, using the opportunity to bury his dagger in the Gur’s throat as the outsider’s body shuddered with aftershock. An agile removal and snappy reinsertion of the blade, followed by a satisfying slice of flesh, and the vampire deftly severed the stranger’s jugular. Blood sprung forth in a foaming cascade of ruby, and the Gur choked out his final, strangled cry. The vampire shoved the threat’s limp body to the side in an effort to relieve Wren of the Gur’s weight. When Astarion turned to his companion, he nearly vomited the meal she'd given him last night up at sight of her. A pool of ichor and muddy water lay beneath her, brown and pink swirling in a filthy basin of water. The little bird appeared unconscious and unaware of the victory; her face full of burgundy, blue, and brown. Her right eye was imperceptible through the well of blood that sat in the socket; the left side of her face was caked crimson and swelling profusely.

“Get up, damn you!” The silver-haired elf gripped at Wren's shoulders. He shook her violently in his desperation to return her awareness to their plane of existence. The woman's head lolled sickeningly until Wyll’s hands grasped Astarion's arms and pried him, with much effort, away from Wren.

“Astarion! Stop! Get a hold of yourself, you’re going to hurt her.” Wyll shouted his plea. Astarion was clawing at the warlock’s insistent grasp, a string of empty threats escaping his mouth as he fought to make contact with Wren. Karlach and Gale both rushed to examine Wren while the pale elf hissed insults and threats through his fangs. The dam of panic seething inside burst without warning, and the rogue emitted a choked, agonizing cry. He continued to claw at the Blade of Frontiers, but Wyll remained steadfast.

"Please, Astarion." The warlock whispered, and finally, the vampire relented.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel tore through the treeline simultaneously, the unlikely pair making a dash for the heart of the group. Lae’zel holstered her blade when she realized the threat was neutralized, but quickly cast her gaze around the camp to assess if there were anyone coming to avenge the intruder. Shadowheart sank down in the muck and held her hands over the ranger, reverently reciting healing incantations.

Several painstaking minutes passed; everyone’s eyes were fixed on the limp body of their leader. Finally, Wren gasped a shuddering breath, and a blanket of relief covered the group. The little bird jolted in fear, reaching out to grasp whatever she could find. She desperately grabbed hold of Shadowheart’s wrist, fingers shaking. “Kol! Kol, I can’t see.” The confession was hushed with panic, the ranger's voice wavering at the end.

The entire group stood still, their relief sliding into unease as they watched the terror and pain overwhelm Wren. She was groaning, one hand clasped over her right eye. “Kol, gods dammit! Say something, I beg you!” She wailed in distress as tears began to stream from her left eye, narrowly escaping between bruised, bulged lids.

No one knew what to do in that moment but stand in a cloud of solemn silence and confusion. Mercifully, Gale mustered the courage to unleash a pink whisper of a spell upon the half-elf, knocking her into a slumber. She slumped against Shadowheart, and the group exchanged anxious glances, but no one dared to say a word... no one could think of what to say. After another breath of silence, Wyll released Astarion and moved to pick the ranger up. He carried her towards her tent, Shadowheart trailing closely behind and continuing her incantations.

Astarion remained on his knees in the mud for what felt like ages as he processed the entire battle. He stared at the blood Wren left behind, fingers dumbly grasping for where her schmitar lay beside him. The woman had been both captivating and terrifying in her uncharacteristic fit of rage. Up until this point, she was typically more inclined to stealth and tactical moves, attacking from the shadows or luring enemies to their death one by one. In most altercations, Karlach and Lae'zel had been in the forefront of the battle and Wren typically hung back, defending them with a well-placed arrow.

The vampire's head reeled. While she was terrifying in the center of battle rather than on the edges of it, her characteristic level-headedness tossed aside, she had been even more terrifying to Astarion in her panic. His gut rolled again as the flashes of her limp and bloodied body looped in his mind and he gagged, desperate to relieve the tormenting waves of nausea. Nothing came. Everyone rushed around him, tending to their own wounds or the wounds of their campmates, but the vampire couldn't make himself move.

Finally, Karlach came to him, offering a red hand to the pale elf. “Come on, soldier, let’s get you over to your tent. I think you just need to lay down for a bit.” She muttered, patting the elf's back with a strong but comforting hand as she hoisted him up. All Astarion could do was dumbly follow the tiefling woman as she walked him to his bed. Karlach was wincing as she bore weight on a still-tender knee and pushed him gently into the confines of his own tent... which he remembered he hadn’t even slept in the night prior. “Get some rest, mate. And then go check on your girl.” Karlach whispered, placing another small pat on the elf's back before she stumbled away.

'His girl? His… girl?' The sentence floated in the vampire’s head as he lay on his bedroll, too tired to move. His exhaustion from the restless night prior and the events of the morning forced the vampire into a trance. The words "his girl" echoed in his mind as he slept, the relentless chant lulling him through the merciful peace of sleep.

[messydepressy95]

It's Thanksgiving on Miller Ranch and they are not having a good time, folks.

Chapter 5 of 'Let Me Be Your Shelter' will be up at midnight tonight EST!

Here's a snippet.

---

"Will you fuck'n stop wrigglin', I'm gonna slip a damn disc if you keep doin' that shit." He bites out, trying to avoid taking another one of Tess's elbows to his kidney. 

"Put me the fuck down, Joel." Like hell, she'd just run her ass back up the field to strangle his brother's bitch of a wife. 

"Not on your life, sweetheart." The condescension threaded into the pet name earns him a knee to his sternum. He shifts her up, letting his shoulder knock the air out of her in return as she comes back down on it. 

Unlocking the back door into the kitchen, he kicks it closed after they cross the threshold. Taking two quick strides toward the kitchen table, he drops her onto it unceremoniously. 

She scrambles up to her feet seething as she jerks her shirt down from where it'd ridden up on the journey home. 

"She doesn't get to just say that kind of shit about you and get away with it, Joel." Tess growls, spittle flying with the force behind her words. 

"Beat'n the shit out of her ain't gonna help none, Tess. She's been around almost as long as you have, there ain't no changin' her mind, you know that." Tess looks at him with barely contained outrage. 

"Why do you let her pin you as a piece of shit, Joel? You aren't anything you let her believe." he finds that rich coming from her, the woman who won't commit because she's lumped him in with every other asshole. 

"Like you're so different?" He spits, voice angry and hollow. Tess steps back, appalled by him. 

"I know that I am not a good man, Tess. I wish I could be, maybe that's what you need, but don't sit there and spew that shit at me, not when you do the same damn thing with your actions." She gapes at him, stunned by his accusation. 

" I do not make you out to be the bad guy." She hisses, stepping toward him with an accusative finger jutting out, wrath replacing the shock on her face. 

Maybe they shouldn't be doing this now, maybe they should wait until the pulsing high of adrenaline of whatever the fuck that was back at Tommy's, has worn off. 

But he's been holding this shit in for years now, letting it fester and feed off of him like a goddamn fungus. 

---

OOF.

I am both excited and terrified of sharing this chapter with y'all, shit gets real in this one.

[inseasofgreen]

Can I get and info dump on Sciosa? What if anything inspired you to create her?

yes, always yes.

Sciosa's name actually came from an old mary sue character of mine from middle school, though the character we know now as Sciosa is are from that character. The OG was a whiny crybaby who couldn't do jack shit to save herself and relied on a toxic lover to do everything for her (ew). Sciosa now is borderline over powered and is a very complex and flawed character.

I've said this before but Sciosa can smite a city from existence, but that's not what makes her interesting. It's what got her to that point that she would even consider it and why she would/wouldn't do it. (I use that example a lot when it's not her who is out there destroying cities lmao *eyes Zemorri*)

POTO's whole theme is power corrupts everyone who uses it, and having the mc be such a powerhouse makes it so fun to write. We follow her though 4 books and with each book the line between between "good" and "evil" grows thinner. She's not an antagonist and never will be, I wouldn't even say she's an anti-hero. She's just someone who has repeatedly had her patience and trust be tested by the gods, fate, and the very mortals she was put on nyrus to protect.

When I first created her, it was for a story that has since been scrapped but her role in that was actually very different. Zemorri was the hero and she was to act as a mentor to him and repent for the sins of her past life. She was very bitter and angry, and rarely had a filter on how she truly felt. That part hasn't really changed too much, though her anger doesn't really appear until POTD. Though she still doesn't have a filter, and if she does filter herself you best better worry.

Sciosa at her core is a young women who laments for a "normal" life. She did not ask to be the Dawn Star but she has accepted her fate to the best of her ability and tries to carry the burden with as much grace as she can. She's 30 at the start of POTO, but that's is so, sooo young for both Zaentri and being born into the bloodline of Duskinfall. Zaentri being half Zaentiraeal from her mother and the bloodline of Duskinfall having an extended life expectancy to help maintain the bloodline until the Dawn Star is born. Mentally she is about 18. Imagine asking an 18 year old to make sure ALL living things on earth are sheltered, with have enough food and water to survive until the Hells are defeated (which could be months or years) that there is enough kindling to keep fires lit as the sun will not rise until the demons are either killed or returned to the hells. On top of that she is expected to rally an army and aid the gods in their fight. Girl I'd be pissed off too, she should be at the club.

Oh and there's a lot that inspired her!! Ciri from the Witcher, Daenerys from ASOIAF and GOT (actually season 8 Dany got me curious of how much would it take to truly break a person to the point of pure destruction. Saying this with my full chest, I'm not mad she went crazy I'm mad it wasn't properly written but I digress) Honestly even a bit of Yen from the Witcher too ngl. There's a picture that I've shared before that was basically the birth of POTO because I wanted to write a scene of it but being me I can't just so one scene I had to do a whole series. Weirdly enough even Lunafreya gave me some inspiration for both Sciosa and the High Priestess' of Zenier. I'd say even a little bit of Zelda, though I haven't played any of the legend of Zelda games in a hot hot minute lol. Last one but it just occurred to me and made me laugh but I think at times she reminds me of Jesus? Bro tell me why so many of these people end up being killed... dany, lunafreya, jesus I swear to GOD Sciosa does not die LMAOOO

Oof okay. That was a lot. but thank you for the ask wyked!! I don't talk about her enough tbh, Zemorri kinda just steals the spot light a lot.

[cuprohastes]

Dave The Human vs. Religion

The question of religion had come up, as it does.

Dave The Human, female Tsin muttered something at a high pitch at her tablet and Dave the human, formerly Dave the Atrix, formerly also Dave the Human performed some epic side-eye.

Gondy was filling in for the Atrix member of the group, still slightly scarred from having her helmet smacked hard enough to split during the recent disintegration of the station due to Von Neumann's Space squid.

Raxy, her Little Guy was stuffing his face in a way that you don't normally see on an Atrix that size. This suggested to the Daves that the Little Guy was shortly going to be upskilling, getting certified and getting referred to as female...

Given Atrix really just looked at the whole gender thing and opted out, and the whole male/female thing was labelling for other people's benefit, the Daves formed an unspoken and instant agreement that helping Raxy bulk up was their new hobby.

For two people from radically different biologies and cultures, the Daves were staggeringly similar as though some cosmic author had created them with the same voice.

Tsin Dave waggled the tablet. "Homeworld want to make sure everyone's complying with off-world best practices. They want to ensure that we're... ugh: 'Maintaining tradition in line with oof-world guidance'" she grumped.

"First I'm a heretic and a sky-demon and now they want to make sure I'm the right sort and not making you lot think less of us with my wicked deviant ways."

Gondy paused, as did Rax.

"graaaaak?" Rax said, around one of the mysterious and never explained purple bread rolls.

Meta-note about the purple bread rolls: They're actually Ube potato bread rolls. They're steamed in the Caffeteria. The food services are very aware that everyone who encounters them assumes they're a food from some other species culture. It's the little things that make the day to day fun.

"You never heard about that?" Dave The human said. "Oh well hum..."

Dave the Human gave his buddy full points on her mastery of colloquialism and settled in.

"So there's this legend that many years ago the People - 's us - had an idyllic land, and the concept of evil was unknown. Then one day, Sky Demons, jealous of our ways and our purity of soul absolutely pounded the knekp out of the place and only those of us in the Great Underground Halls, who were devout enough survived. And since that day, to leave the ground is to attract the attention of the Sky Demons."

Gondy raised a claw.

"Boats are OK. Water is theologically still ground."

Gondy put her claw down.

Dave the human said, "That sounds like..."

Dave The Human answered, "Nope, it was Orbital Bombardment. Nation-on nation. The shelters were built because it was a strong possibility that things would get all... ker-blammy."

"Yeesh!"

"Yeah. And the religious angle kind of got shuffled in as this agreement that when everyone got out, nobody wanted to be dancing around pointing claws at other countries and trying to blame them, while it was everyone's fault. Can't really blame them but for a thousand odd years that was the official line."

Gondy said "Wow! I never knew that!"

Dave The Human nodded. "Yeah yeah, it's been pretty common knowledge for a century or so, but still, when we got back into space after the Wallandernoooks showed up to trade, it was a major, major problem and uh well, leaving the Homeworld means you're a Heretic and in league with the Sky Demons according to the Dogma soooo..."

"Huh. And that means...?"

"Not much. Kind of lightly excommunicated. Not really welcome back home where things are a little more traditional. But y'know. No biggie. We're all colonists out here anyway, and we still get Homeworld support. It's just we also have to get audited that we're not giving Homeworld a bad name." She paused and took a long drink of mekp. "Aaaaand this time they want to know if we have a shrine to show you filthy heathens that we're still the number one proper pious type heretical sky demons. F.M.L."

Gondy, Rax and Dave pondered this.

"Gondy... what do Atrix believe in?" Asked Dave the Human.

"Graaak."

"Yeah, Rax, I guess 'some places are lucky' covers it. You know.... good moss, cool rocks, just got a good vibe. The sort of place you can drop a bunch of... what do you call them? Possums."

Dave the Human choked on his water. "Possums?!"

"Grak." Commented Rax and Gondy pulled her tablet out and poked. "Yeah... human smalls." She said, holding up a picture of a possum mis-labelled as an infant human.

"Huh. You guys are adorable when you're young" cooed Dave The Human, who Dave previously rated as about as maternal as a meat grinder.

Dave let it go for now, suspecting this would yield hilarious dividends at some future time, and turned back to Dave the Tsin.

"Ok, this is shaping up to be another wacky hi-jink. What's the gig?

"Gotta build a shrine."

"Any shrine?"

"Pretty much. It's got to be location appropriate. Y'know. The god of the place. To show we're uh... friendly to the local divinities? On theological good terms?"

"OK but... we're all godless atheists, apart form the ones who aren't. Who are you going to build a shrine to?

"Yeah that's kind of it. I mean I don't want to be the grit under anyone's scales..."

"Ohhhh," said Gondy, "Oh oh! Rax, call Garf! I have an idea..."

Several weeks later, the Tsin named Walks-between-Waves arrived as part of the Tsin welfare and general ambassadorial circuit.

O'Patel and Big Ma performed the proper greetings and paperwork, and Dave presented herself.

Walks-Between-Waves ("Just call me Waves") walked up and declaimed, "Heretic, and blasphemer. You bones will never lie with the ancestors, and your meat will rot. You and the demons you dwell with are denied! Cast out as the foul beasts you are. How are you doing? Well I hope?"

Dave bowed, small hands together, big ones outstretched.

"Oh yeah. They're all very nice here." She said. "Did they change the words of the castigation?"

"Oh, no, but some of it needed translating for human language a little," Waves said and added, "such a fun language! Quite the fad back home. And since you're hmm, officially human, I couldn't resist. Now, I believe you have something to show?"

O'Patel looked bemused and said sotto voce to Big Ma, "I think this is going to go well!"

Dave led Waves to the common area where, true enough, there was a shrine. It was made of old pieces of the station recovered from it's partial disassembly. 3D printed and painted panels along the sides showed Tsin, Atrix and Humans, helping each other climb up the sides, to the top of the shrine where someone had creatively frosted some glass and lit it with shifting lights to suggest something exciting and pleasant waited. The thing dripped with moss and a small water feature played down from the back into a shallow bowl of stones.

"Ah!" Said Waves. "Very impressive. Going for extra credit?"

"No..." said Dave. "It's a group effort. Once we started, everyone wanted to help. Especially after we found a small god for the Station that everyone liked... Their name is Arepo."

[tumblingxelian]

Cortical Cocoon AU: So I happened to be looking at the Missing Floor tvtropes page and I learned about Ghost Stations.

Of which the Parisian Metro has at least a few.

And it seems to me that such a location could serve as a decent spot for an Imago who wants to avoid the catacombs to set up their Nest or Hive.

The most prominent ones are the Ghost Station that had never opened in the first place, namely Porte Molitor and Haxo. Both of which don't tend to have trains passing through due to their locations and lack any surface connection.

Another station an Imago might want to use as a Nest/Hive is Saint-Martin, which closed in 1939 due to WWII, opened again after Liberation, then closed again due to being redundant.

It's apparently been used as a homeless shelter, with the eastern section currently being used a day shelter.

An unscrupulous grouper Imago would likely take that as a benefit.

Sorry for the wait, been wrapped up in a map making project.

Anyway dang this is super cool, Paris has so many places for villains and monsters and cults to set up, how wonderful! & yeah I can definitely see those places becoming habitats for Imago.

Vampire: Well its not the Catacombs but this Ghost Station will do nicely as a lair. Pixelator: Hey get out of here, I called dibs! Vampire: Oh gods more of them!

Also oof, yeah I imagine a lot of people in unstable or insecure positions will find themselves victims of an untoward Imago, be it as a meal (Horrificator, ETC) or subjects (Darkblade, ETC) & such people would be among the least likely to be noticed missing or heard if they avoided capture too.

Gods ANdre would probably consider that a boon cos he can claim credit for "Ending homelessness in Paris" or something.

[leffee]

71, 83, and 100 for the poly pets (guess that's the ship name now)

71. If someone were to insult their S/O, how would the other handle it?

Oof, the chaos trio are all ready to get physical and throw hands, yes, Minka too. And if they don't they still don't let that slide and will bully the living crap out of that person, narrow their eyes at them, basically they're very upset and protective and are not afraid to show it. Not when someone's insulting their beloveds for sure!

Russell and Sunil would just say it's not worth listening to them and ignore that person, focusing instead on reassuring their partner/s that opinion of that person doesn't matter and it's not true anyway and get them away from those insults.

Penny would be similar, focusing on her partner/s instead of the person insulting them except that in her case she would just give lots of that sweet sweet physical affection along with verbal reassurances. She doesn't lke conflict or any violence so she doesn't want to escalate it, but be not mistaken, if the situation is extreme enough she can get intimidating with the person doing the insulting.

And Zoe? Well, she's somewhere in-between the chaos trio and Russell and Sunil. She's ready to fight with that person but at the same time she knows it's not worth it usually so she will instead love on whoever got insulted. Still, she won't fucking forget cause how dare D:<

83. Who gets frustrated more easily? How does the other calm them down?

Huh. Out of the seven of them I'd say the ones who get most easily frustrated are Zoe, Vinnie, and Russell.

So with Zoe the other six just kinda let her be dramatic. They have learned that as long as they do it she will calm down on her own in due time. They'll try not to downplay whatever she's frsutrated at and simply listen to what she's saying, showing that they're listening without trying to give advice. They know that's not what Zoe eeds at the moment.

Now, when Vinnie gets frustrated it's more dangerous cause you know, if he's angry enough he will start destroying. Fortunately there's one thing he can't resist - physical affection. He will go from being all fired up to melting under the touch in a matter of seconds if that happens and they have not one person to touch him but six, so as long as they catch him in time they're safe. If not they fucking run and seek shelter :3

And with Russell it's best to let him relax, so they just do things for him. They know he likes it neat and tidy, and although it's not easy to get him to just sit down and do nothing once they manage that they do just that - make sure the environment is how he likes it so he doesn't need to stress about that at least.

100. Make a meme of this ship

Does that count? Pepper for you <3

Actually I made two. Does that mean anything?

Because to me, as Omori ost 060 is named it means everything.

This one isn't made by me and has nothing to do with lps but it's about poly relationships so

[karahalloway]

Mardi Gras Mayhem- Chapter 2: Bertrand

Fandom: TRR

Series: Mardi Gras Mayhem (click the link to read each part in order!)

Pairings: None

Summary: The TRR lads celebrate Maxwell's 21st birthday in New Orleans during Mardi Gras. What can possibly go wrong?

Synopsis: Bertrand finds himself in deep water (somewhat literally) when he becomes separated from the rest of the group...

Word count: 2,500

Warnings: M (swearing, cringe, various states of undress and nudity)

A/N: This is a part of a collaboration written for @choicesprompts' March prompt.

Bertrand

"...now pay attention, because this next part is important," Bertrand shouted over the deafening music. "Canal Street, which we are currently on, serves as the dividing line between the northern, uptown, and southern, downtown sections of several streets. As a result, streets that transect Canal Street actually have different names depending on—"

A loud oof! suddenlyexploded out of the elder Beaumont as a wayward body careened into him. He faltered, but managed to retain his balance, only have two more people nearly topple him to the curb.

"I beg your— Oh, good Lord!" exclaimed Bertrand as whatever remonstration he was going to deliver died on his lips at the sight of the steady stream of bare breasts bouncing past his line of vision.

"Whoo! Mardi Gras!"

"Carnival is the best!"

"Livin' la vida loca!"

Bertrand's eyes widened as he took in the Bacchic revelry. "What the devil...?"

"Come join the party, handsome!"

A well-endowed lady lassoed him with her feather boa.

"Ah... A-Absolutely not!" Bertrand managed to choke out.

"Ooh, tough customer..." purred the woman as she started to slowly reel him in. "What about some beads? Got any of those?"

"You cannot seriously think that I would condone such vulgar behaviour, let alone reward it with cheap, plastic trinkets!"

"Hmm... you're right," mused the buxom woman, gyrating her hips to the beat of the marching drums. "Trinkets are cheap... But I'm open to other arrangements..."

"What! No! That is not what I—"

He cast his gaze around the crowd wildly, looking for assistance. But all he saw — and heard — were half-naked women laughing and shrieking.

But then, a gap in the crush opened up — as if Moses himself had parted the sea of tumultuous humanity — and Bertrand laid eyes on a sight that instantly lifted his spirit.

Mr Walker!

Drake had somehow managed to extricate himself from the press and had taken shelter in the relative safety of a shop awning.

As if by fate the younger man glanced his way.

The two sets of brown eyes locked.

Bertrand's heart swelled with relief.

At last! Hope of salva—

Drake was gone.

The elder Beaumont blinked.

Had it been a mere trick of the fading light? A hopeful mirage conjured up by his brain in a moment of sheer terror and helpl—?

He spotted the back of the well-built young man just as it disappeared down an alleyway.

Bertrand was speechless.

Did... Did Mr Walker just... abandon him? Surely not! That would have been most uncouth! Maybe he just—

"Now about that exchange of goods for services..." slurred the woman into his ear.

Bertrand realised that his number was up. It was now or never — all down to him. It was too late to wait for the cavalry.

"Take the beads!" cried Bertrand, ducking out from between the constraints of the boa to scoop some multicoloured bead up from the ground and toss it at the buxom woman.

"Hey! What the—?"

"Beads!"

Half a dozen hands snapped eagerly upwards to try and claim the airborne trinkets.

Bertrand used the crowd's momentary distraction to quickly drop down to the asphalt and scurry away on his hands and knees, trying to avoid the detritus that the parade had left in its wake.

Christ alive! The indignities a Duke was forced to subject himself to! This was exactly why—

"Damnation!" he exclaimed, as in his effort to dodge a pair of steel-toed crocodile leather boots, he inadvertently scuttled into something warm and wet.

Lifting his hand sourly out of the questionable looking puddle, he tried to shake off the offending droplets that clung stickily to his skin...

"Argh!"

...only to have his other hand stomped on by a size 12 sandal.

Snatching his injured hand to his chest, he barely had time to assess the damage before he found himself barrelled over by a swarthy — and very hairy! — man wearing nothing but a cape and some rather ill-fitting faux-leather Speedo's.

"Beads for Sparta!" he hollered at the top of his lungs, brandishing his plastic toy sword in the air as he stampeded through the crowd like a raging bull.

"Ha-ROO!"

"Ow..." moaned Bertrand from the ground as a phalanx of the man's compatriots — all in similar states of (un)dress — hurried past, only narrowly missing the prone form of the hapless Cordonian.

This had most definitely been a bad idea...

Once the last of the barbarians had stomped past, Bertrand gingerly pushed himself up to a seated position, noting with distaste that both his green suede dinner jacket and slim-fit purple tuxedo trousers were now damp and soiled. And his top hat had been knocked from his head.

He heaved a dejected breath.

So much for a dignified soirée in the French Quarter...

When Maxwell had declared that he wanted to celebrate his 21st birthday party in New Orleans, Bertrand had actually been impressed. The city was one of the oldest in North America, a unique melting pot of Spanish, French and Creole influences that could be readily observed and appreciated through the food, dialect and architecture.

All in all, a much more cultured destination than, for instance, the drug- and alcohol-fuelled madness of Ibiza...

So, thinking that Maxwell was actually making a grown-up choice for once, Bertrand had set about planning the details of the trip with all the fervour of a born and bred Beaumont — the trans-Atlantic first-class flight, the upscale hotel, the guided walking tour, the historic paddle steamer cruise down the Mississippi River...

But all that had gone to pot when, upon their arrival, Maxwell had declared that the real reason he'd picked the Big Easy was not because of its sophisticated cultural offerings, but because he wanted to experience Mardi Gras — the annual two-week extravaganza that saw participants don ridiculous costumes to run amok around town like a pack of degenerates.

And — to make matters worse — his brother had insisted that everyone dress up in a frankly offensive mismatch of clothes and gaudy accessories to join in the festivities.

Bertrand shook his head.

Who in their right mind would even think to combine royal purple with canary yellow and shamrock green! Certainly not anyone with any semblance of taste...

Not that it really mattered now...

The smell that was emanating from the puddle he was sat in was a hundred times worse than the sickening clash of colours he was wearing.

The only silver lining to his otherwise sorry state of affairs was that while he'd been marinating in the sluice of the sidewalk, the crowd seemed to have moved on, and now there was just the odd straggler ambling down the rubbish-strewn thoroughfare.

He had managed to survive... Just.

Pulling himself to his feet, Bertrand located his wayward head piece — now very much battered and squished — a few yards away, and hobbled over to retrieve it.

Picking the felt chapeau up, he tried to dust it off as best he could, before resignedly plopping its misshapen form back onto his head.

"Right," he declared aloud, to no one in particular, "now where the bloody hell did everybody go?"

But the only answer he got was the fading sound of the drums and trumpets as the parade moved along it's designated route through the city.

Hoping that the rest of the group hadn't wandered far, he reached into his jacket pocket in order to find out where everyone had disappeared off to...

...but all of the baker's dozen calls he placed to the various disparate members of the group went straight to voicemail.

"Bugger..."

Pocketing the phone, Bertrand pulled out his trusty pocket-watch. Flipping it open, he was thankful to find that it had managed to survive the rampage and was still ticking merrily away.

17:46.

That meant he had a couple of hours to (a) try and figure out how to get himself cleaned up so he didn't smell like a pile of fermented manure, and (b) locate the Golden Lantern establishment that had been chosen by Maxwell as the evening's rendezvous point.

But where to start?

Most reputable business had closed up shop prior to the start of the parades. And no self-respecting proprietor was going to welcome him onto the premises looking — and smelling — like he did currently.

So, there was only one option — find a disreputable establishment that he could skulk into unnoticed and rough himself back into some semblance of shape before — hopefully! — meeting back up with everyone at the Golden Lantern for Maxwell's birthday piss-up.

Simples.

Feeling a measure of confidence return to his veins, Bertrand pulled the slightly soggy fold-up map of New Orleans from his breast pocket and flipped it open. After a quick consultation to check his heading, he folded it back up and set out in a general south-by-southeasterly direction.

And before long, he came across what he was looking for: a grungy-looking brick building with blacked-out windows and heavy, sound-proof doors which were open just a crack to allow the sensual thump of bebop jazz to float out onto the street.

Bertrand curled his lips.

He hated jazz.

Which meant this place was perfect.

Steeling himself, he pulled the door open and plunged into the darkness on the other side.

But as he pushed himself through the bead curtains, he caught sight of something that nearly made him lose his footing.

Up on the crimson-lit stage in front of him stood a woman wearing little more than fishnet tights and a corset, sliding a feather boa over her lady parts in the most suggestive fashion!

"Oh, good Lord...!" breathed Bertrand, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

When he'd set out to find a disreputable establishment, he'd been thinking an old pub or perhaps even a blues bar, a dark corner where gruff males gathered to drown their collective sorrows without consequence or judgement.

He had most certainly not been looking for a... cabaret.

"There you are!" cried a lanky man dressed in nothing but a top hat and sparkly harem pants. "Do you have any idea how late you are!"

"I—"

But before he could formulate a semblance of a response, the man grabbed his jacket and began hauling him towards the stage.

"Tanya...!" hollered his captor, as he shoved the spluttering Beaumont forward, "look who finally decided to grace us with his presence!"

"Sir, you are obviously mis—"

Bertrand stumbled to a stop in front of a statuesque woman bearing a whip and a formidable attitude.

"Is this some kind of joke?" demanded the woman... in a deep baritone that made her sound almost like a man. But Bertrand didn't have the bandwidth to focus on that particular particularity because he was too busy trying to look at anything other than the enormous breasts that were threatening to spill out of the bodice in front of him at any moment.

Bertrand cleared his throat studiously. "My apologies, madame. I—"

"Goddamn right, you better apologise!" snapped the irate dame. "I told you on the phone last night: magician costume. And this is what you come up with? You need to get yo' head checked, sha'!"

Bertrand's eyes bulged. "Magician?!"

"Yeah," affirmed Tanya without an inch of humour. "A wand-wavin', rabbit-from-a-hat-pullin', disappear-in-a-puff-of-smoke mothafucka. Wears a long-ass black jacket and a hat. Like Houdini. Heck, even a ringmaster's suit would'a been better than—"

"First of all, the correct term is a frock coat, not a jacket," interjects Bertrand. "A jacket is characterised by much shorter—"

"You for real right now?" demanded Tanya incredulously. "Get this fool outta my sight! And get him gussied up! We got a show to run!"

"A show?!" spluttered Bertrand as he was hauled away again, this time by a pair of well-muscled men in tight leather bondage gear. "But I am not—!"

But his well-oiled captors paid him no need as they dragged him to the back.

"Yo, Belle!" cried one of them as they neared the changing rooms. "Look what the cat dragged in!"

"A sewer rat, by the smell o' it!" replied a leopard-print leotard wearing female, wrinkling her nose.

"Ha!" came the agreeable response as Bertrand was shoved into the tight space. "Think you can get him cleaned up?"

Belle drew a low breath. "I'll try...! But I ain't making no promises... The hell did you step in, boo? Dog turd?"

"Please!" begged Bertrand, falling to his knees in front of Belle, his hands clutched together beseechingly. "You have to help me! There has been a terrible—"

"Oh, I'm gonna help you, alright," affirmed Belle dryly before turning to holler at the rest of the troupe. "Yo! Jo! Sandy! Grab the baby wipes and the Maybelline – we got some work to do!"

Before Bertrand could protest further, a pair of strong hands grabbed the collar of his soiled jacket and ripped it from his shoulders. His stained We Don't Hide the Crazy — We Parade It Down the Street! t-shirt was next, followed by his Oxfords and pants.

"No! Don't take my—!"

His silk briefs were yanked from his body.

Bertrand tried desperately to cover his sudden, shocking nakedness with his hands.

"Christ, these stink!" gaged one of the girls, holding Bertrand's clothes out like they were radioactive.

"Don't you dare!" shouted Bertrand, sacrificing what was left of his modesty to snatch the garments back before they could be thrown away. "My brother put this hideous ensemble together for me!"

"Did he spray you with cat piss as well?"

"Of course not!" objected Bertrand, using the foul smelling accoutrements to cover his Johnson. "I... I fell into a puddle on Canal Street... and lost my brother and the rest of our party in the process."

"Must've been a helluva deep puddle!"

"It— Nevermind," grumbled Bertrand as sniggers rose up around the room. "The point is, I am in this fetid city attempting to celebrate my brother's 21st birthday, and I need t—"

"Hold up!" declared Belle. "So, you sayin' that you not that famous Genoese illusionist that Tanya hired?"

"No!" Bertrand cried emphatically. "That is what I have been trying to explain this entire time! I am from Cordonia!"

"But can you do magic...?" asked someone hopefully.

"No!" he shouted exasperatedly. "And the fact that you even thought that I was from Genoa is frankly offensive... The accents are nothing alike."

"Coulda fooled me, suga," winked Jo saucily, smacking Bertrand on the rear, making him jump. "But then all them Euro accents sound oh, so sexy an' sophisticated..."

"Mmm..." agreed Sandy, eyeing Bertrand's nude form. "Especially when they're attached to tall, dark an' handsome gentlemen..."

Bertrand took an involuntary step back. "So... um... as you can imagine... my brother is probably worried sick about me, and I—"

Belle folded her arms with a sigh. "Tanya's gonna blow a gasket... But, that's not this fool's fault. So, let's get him gone before she shows up..."

Bertrand felt his shoulders sag in relief. "Thank you! You cannot imagine how grateful—"

"...but in some clean clothes," added Belle. "Can't have you showin' up to your brotha's fete in those threads. You'll stink out the whole neighbourhood!"

"Oh, that's alright," demurred Bertrand. "You really don't—"

But his protests were soundly ignored, and fifteen minutes later, he found himself standing back in the alley wearing a gold lamé Elvis suit... sans shirt, his original attire in a large zip-lock bag in his hand.

Bertrand pulled a face.

He looked even more ridiculous than he had at the start of the night!

At least the ladies had been kind enough to return his effects.

Even if they had managed to strip him of what was left of his dignity...

...and all the cash from his wallet.

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 71

Yay, back to regular reacting times. Long may it continue ...

Blimey ... I'm with you Laura, that is an ... INTERESTING look for Ashley ... but NOT AS BAD as Sam's ... oh gods, now she's doing a French accent ... which I STILL better than Sam's ...

Ashley: "I'm French! It's my way!"

Wow ... this actually might be the best NordVPN ad for ages ...

Matt: "I think you almost killed Travis ..." Yeah ...

HOMELANDER in Mortal Kombat? Both cool AND disturbing ...

Matt: "Lady I'm married to, next to the horse!" Travis: "Yeah, horse lady!" Matt: "Yeah, this is getting quite disturbing, very Twin Peaks ... as much as I'd love to keep Sam in that outfit ..." Sam: "Oh God, it's so hot!"

YEAH!!! Bye bye, Ratanish, you big butthead!

Okay, so where are we? This IS the Shattered Teeth, right?

Perception check already? Go Liam ... Nat20!!! OF COURSE he does ... monkeys? Look at Ashley, already cute-grinning ... :3

Chetney: "There's an ocean, nearby! Intoxicating! We are truly lucky to be here!" Ashton: "Are you okay?"

Alright, seriously, what IS going on with Chetney? Is he tripping on funny psychotropic moss?

Laudna: "Are you an island boy? Do you operate on island time?" Hmmm ... am I missing an in-joke here?

Cliff! Watch it ...

This is INTENSE landscape ... very broody ...

Jirana the Shore Shrew ... cue loads of playing around with shudhing noises for THAT name ...

Imogen trying to send a Message to Jirana ... Matt: "Roll a D100 for me." Balls ... and 3 points of psychic damage! Ack ... oh, no, just 1 point ... not SO bad ...

Looking for the Great Tree of Atrophy? Hmmm ... but are they on the right tree? Probably not ... but Imogen still wants to go up and see ... so dhr grabs Orym to take with her, and Laudna sends Pate too ...

Liam: "Have I ever actually flown before?" Oh boy ...

I'm sorry, HOW high? Oof ... oh great, just an endless fog bank ... great ... Liam: "So ALL of the Shattered Teeth are obscured?" Crap ...

The shadow is MOVING ... oh that's not good ... yes, dive. DIVE DIVE DIVE!!!

Laura: "What if it's a nice Falkor? It's never a nice Falkor ..." No. No it's not.

Wow ... I love that ... Orym has INSANE good perception and a truly HORRIBLE sense of direction ... XD

Pick s direction ... FCG: "We can't just stand around with our metal dicks in our hands."

"Squishies in the middle!" Yup ...

Little feetsies ... LOL ... Matt: "I just wanted to say that so bad."

Fireflies? Ashton: "Remember the last time we thought some little glowing lights were cute?"

Oh no, Laudna, this is NOT the time for a swarm ... oh well, there she goes anyway ...

Pass Without A Trace! Here we go ... meanwhile Ashley's distracted making sure she doesn't smell like the horse suit ...

Tiny beating wings? Oh great ... not pixies again, please ...

An AMPHIBIOUS pixie? Weird shit ... that can't be good ...

Low growling and thuds from somewhere? Oh hell no ...

Trusting Fearne to know how to move through a place like this IS probably a smart play, actually.

Ashton: "I'm more scared of IT than I sm of you." Fearne: "Well that doesn't sound right." Ashton: "No, you ARE very scary."

Sending Pate out to scout ... Laudna: "And don't HIT ON the faeries."

Wow ... only TWO of this party have Darkvision ... great ...

Now they're looking for spiders? Hmmmm ...

A big fucking footprint ... 7 FEET LONG?!!! Seriously, Matthew?

Grim Psychometry! Okay ...

Oh, so they're on a BLOODY GAME TRAIL right now ... that's just LOVELY ...

And there's bits of broken canopy ... shit ...

Not many places to hide, clearly ... Imogen: "This place is bad!" Ashton: "Yeah, it's bad, everything's bad."

A makeshift camp, then ... and Fearne can make sn extra overgrown think to shelter them too? Okay ... "A little Bob Ross cabin". Nice. Sounds tight, but also quite cosy ...

Liam: "Is the rest of the show gonna be us just decorating?" XD

Night time but for them it still feels like early afternoon ... oof, timezones are EVIL ...

Chetney takes first watch ... so that whooshing sound KEEPS happening? Not a good sign ...

Laudna takes second watch, along with Pate ... "This is as low as I go, you didn't make me to he quiet." Yeah ...

Laura: "Okay, what if the creature IS the Shore Shrew?" Travis: "Okay, go to sleep."

And now they're being CHECKED OUT by the pixies ... wow, and these things are FUCKING UGLY up close ...

Liam: "I can imagine it walking right across your eye." Laura: "Like in Aeon Flux?" Oh yeah! XD

Extra watch? Then they can get a LONG rest ... so it's FCG with Pate helping.

Now there's a whole bloody HORDE of the fucking things surrounding them ... FCG tries to Talk With Animals ...

Laudna sleeps with her eyes open? Of course she does ... O.O

FCG seems to be making friends ... he tries to pickpocket his meat from him ... that didn't go well ... Chetney: "You're not supposed to be bartering with them!" FCG: "GO back to sleep." I can't believe that worked ...

Detect Thoughts? Hmmmm ... meanwhile Pussy II jokes ensue ...

One perches in his hand and HE CASTS TONGUES in it? AND IT WORKS?!!! Holy fuck ...

No name, just "me" ... hmmm ... "the Spray Cannon"? Okay ...

Oh, the "Smelly One" is some kind of creature ... oh, they decorate their bodies to mask their scents ...

Ah ... so the stuff is actually their SHIT ... of course ... they have to cover themselves with pixie shit ...

The island is uninhabited? Oh, there's Toriz? The Protector? Ummmmm ... what?

Big fire? FCG: "Oh, you guys are pyros?" Oh, so they WANT a big fire ... XD Yeah, I reckon they can accommodate that ...

Okay, so waking everybody up yo meet the new friends ...

Orym rolls over and IMMEDIATELY starts doing his morning push-ups ...

This is like now SUPREMELY bizarre ...

I love Me so much, I swear to the gods this thing is ADORABLE ...

Imogen tries to speak in its head ... "I'm in your head." Oh gods ...

Me: "You promised a fire." FCG: "Oh yeah, they like fire."

Imogen: "You're worried they're just gonna push us off a cliff?" Orym: "Oh ... well I WASN'T ..." XD

So they're APPROACHING the whooshing sound? Hmmmm ...

An old, long abandoned campsite? Interesting ... Grim Psychometry again ... oh shit, something NASTY happened here a long time ago ... oh, now that was just quietly TERRIFYING ...

Okay ... so it's time to make ... The Fire ...

Imogen: "Me, could EVERYONE poop on us? Oh, so gross ..." Me: "You want a rain from Me?" Hmmmm ...

Insight check on Me? Ooh, WHISPERS!!! Aaaaaaah ...

Fearne bamfs out Mister ... meanwhile they're discussing if they ACTUALLY want to get genuinely SHAT ON by these things ... it smells like lavender? Oh, so it's THAT MOSS that Chetney was chewing on earlier ... that explains a lot ...

Oh yeah, these guys really do LOVE fire ...

Me (to his friends): "The newcomers require a rain party." Oh. My. GODS ...

They are actually getting PELTED with this ... SHIT. Yeah ... Ashton: "Sometimes I think I should have just let that living room set kill you all."

Building a suitable bonfire ... oh yeah, OF COURSE Chetney knows what wood burns well.

All right, here we go ...

Ah, so this will be Laudna trying her Fire Magic under Fearne's guidance ... wow, nice job, girls! O.O ... oh yeah, they're just making a BIG shos of all this, and the pixies are just LOVING IT ...

Oh, here we go ... something's coming ...

A massive multi-legged komodo dragon that can change colours? Oh boy ... and it has NO EYES, just a FUCKLOAD of teeth ... with a big star on its nose? Like a MOLE?!!!

Stealth check ... Chetney rolls STUPID high ... znd it STILL attacks? Not good ...

Go to break? NOW?!!!

Shit, that's a NAT20?!!! Matt: "Why are you cheering?" 62 POINTS OF PIERCING DAMAGE to Chetney? Holy fuck ... znd it's time to ROLL INITIATIVE!!!

Battlemap! Yay!

Liam: "So Chetney just got COMPLETELY WRECKED?" Gods yes ...

Charge! Orym rushes the beast, using Seedling to pull himself right into its face! Bait and Switch on Chetney, nice! Protective Orym for the win!

Imogen Summons her Reiloran! Hex Mind? Okay ... using SPECIAL SORCERER MATHS she casts a long range attack on the beast! Zap! Psychic damage, bitch! Now the Reiloran delivers a Mind Spike znx deals EVEN MORE?!!! Oh, and then Mstt reminds her it can do MULTI-ATTACK so it does it AGAIN!!!

Chetney: "Oh my FUCKING GOD!!!" Casts Blood Curse of Bloated Agony and starts to crawl off ...

It tries to attack Orym and he fends it off TWICE ... third hits, though ... 22 points of slashing damage? Crap ...

It xan ONLY sense Orym? Hmmmm ... so the shit works, unless it's already engaged with them ...

FCG Compels it, but otherwise can't do much of anything until he can get to Chetney ...

Laudna Hexes the fucker! Yeah! Then she sends Pate in to attack ... but he can't make it either this round ... bugger ... 2 Eldritch Blasts, both hit! 14 and then 12 Damage! Nice!

Ashton Rages! Big ass rainbow charge! And he starts BARKING at it? That's wild ...

FIRE!!! Fearne tries to torch it ... oooh, damage maths ... 16! Nice! Mister goes too, poop shoot! Here we go ... bah, MISS!!! Nuts ...

"What about the power ... to move you?"

Wait ... what the fuck is THIS?!!! Something ELSE is coming? Is this about to get so much worse?

This changes Orym's plan somewhat ... flanking instead, slashes once, misses, Gain and HITS!!! Goading Attack! In the ARSE ... 16 points of damage and disadvantage against anyone else ...

Imogen LIGHTNING BOLTS the thing! Nice! Boom! 9 D6 of damage? Crazy ... 31 points of Lightning damage? Ouch ...

The Reiloran CRITS it ... 11 points of slashing damage ... Chetney: "Is that all? Eye flash and that's it?"

It attacks Orym ... miss ... then a HIT!!! Laudna casts Silvery Barbs! Nice save! Still hits a little, though ... crap ... it NEARLY BITES HIS ARM OFF?!!! Fuck, Matthew! Orym is REALLY HURT now ...

FCG gets as close as he can go Ofym and does a 3rd level Healing Word for 12 points ... that the best he can do right now ... and then all he can do is try and shoot it with the Bolt Thrower ... znd he MISSES!!! Travis: "Well at least you're consistent."

Laudna sends Pate to it and casts Shocking Grasp through him ... ZAP!!! Skittering? A great swarm of Stink Bugs? Infestation! Nice ... FCG: "It can't smell past the stink!" Yes, nice distraction!

Still Raging, Ashton Charles in, grabs Orym and carries him off ... stows him in a little hollow and then pops back up into the fight.

Fearne casts 3 Scorching Rays ... and NONE OF THEM HIT!!! Argh ... but at least Mister's "fiery turd gun" hits for 10 points of Fire damage.

Something big DROPS OUT OF THE SKY!!! Great ... boom ... and everybody gets blown back from the impact ...

Gigantic fucking demon frog beast ... like a FUCKING KAIJU ... its mouth glows from inside ... wait, there's a HOUSE inside this thing?

Whoa, giant beast face-off! Matt laments the fact he doesn't have a mini THIS BIG to put in and they immediately start ribbing him about it ...

Orym hacks and slashes, trying for another Goading Attack ... it works! Action Surge! Go tiny fighter!

Imogen tries to communicate with the giant frog ... oh, this thing might be friendly? Okay ... Imogen (out loud, to the group): "Take cover!"

Everybody who can just SCATTERS ... meanwhile the creature flees. Laudna tells Oare to build and he's very vocal about thinking her for the warning ...

The Mes are all swarming around the frog's head now ... it jumps on the lizard mole, squashes it, then just takes off with it and CHUCKS IT INTO THE OCEAN!!! Nice ...

Okay, the frog's back and SEEMS to be chill ... it opens its mouth ... and there REALLY IS like a kind of weird house inside this thing ... and there's somebody living inside it.

A galapa ... oh, a tortle? Cool ...

So this IS a friend of Keyleth's ... she's quite sweet, real. Hello Jirana. And the frog is Toriz. It's her home AND her friend, that's bizarrely adorable.

Fearne gives Toriz scritches. :3

Jirana IS aware of the major changes in the world. Oh, she's inviting them inside ... buy first douses Chetney with a bucketful of water for all the blood.

Bari Mondolo? So THAT'S what that thing was ...

The pixies are Dolabos? That's cute ...

The Cloud Jaws ... like a sky whale? Scary big thing ... and apparently IT IS dangerous, but only to airborne things. Okay, so not a MAJOR danger, then ...

The interior of the frog is surreal but also quite quaint and cosy.

Imogen uses Prestidigitation to clean them all off of the shit. Nice.

Jirana clearly collects stuff. Imogen gives her the Taste of Tal'dorei tankard. Awwww ... :3

She us an expert on grief and loss ... seems Keyleth sought her out? Oh yeah ... yeah, we know what THAT was about ...

There are 43 islands in the Shattered Teeth? Crazy ...

She's 400+ years old ... that's fucking crazy ...

Meanwhile there's some confusion over whether time passes different here or if she's just confused zbout that ...

Ashton reveals his Titan blood secret ...

Now asking about the Tree of Atrophy ...

Ooooooh ... Calamity fallout lore dump! Sweet ...

So you can just CHOOSE to become a tree ... okay ... wait ... is the Sun Tree like this? That would be interesting ...

Jirana: "The Tree is ... honest. Not everyone can handle this level of honesty." Hmmmm ...

So ... looking for a boat, then?

The islands REALLY DO move ... that's just GREAT ...

Oh my gods, I love the way Travis always completely loses it when Matt gives them a map. It's completely adorable every time. XD

Let Chetney repair a boat, guys. He's so stoked about this idea, just let him have this one.

Sam's flask is trying Matt's patience in the best way ... XD

Three big mountains ...

A "floater of danger"? Hmmmm ...

Yes, I agree, teleportation is NOT a smart idea right now. No, just TAKE A BOAT!!! Let Chetney mend a boat, guys ...

Ooh! Compass! Sweet ... the lost compass of the Dread Pirate Novos ... wait, is Matt SERIOUSLY evoking THE PRINCESS BRIDE right now?

A dark deal ... a GHOST SHIP?!!! Wait ... is this some U'kotoa shit?

There's a motorcycle outside, apparently ... Liam: "Grog's got gas." Travis (as Grog): "Sorry ..."

Chetney tries to get a read on the compass ... ooh, vision of a memory ... that's some crazy shit ... "Yep, it's a pirate ghost ship, and it'll be ... AWESOME."

Wow, they're actually seriously considering going for some kind of Davy Jones deal with the Dread Pirate ... O.O

TWO Titans died here ... Jirana has to look up their names ... Rau'shan and Ka'mort. Okay ...

Oooh, care package ... what kind of goodies are they getting? 2 reef moss balms, a bottle of slickshimmer oil, 2 brackish Potions (basically two greater healing potions) ... cool ... that's gonna be so helpful ...

FCG gives her fresh baked goods, and she's very appreciative.

Oh Letters, you're doing better at this than you think you are. Jirana does a really beautiful job of bucking him up ... apparently HE needs to talk to the tree too, and she's willing to help hom too if he ever makes it back this way ...

Man, this ancient tortoise woman is really something special ...

Chetney: "The wolf requires a high metabolism." Jirana: "THIS is for stamina." Wait ... did she just give him some homemade viagra? O.O

Fearne gives her salt and pepper shakers she got from the museum heist. Awwwww ...

She can TAKE THEM to the North Shore? Sweet ...

Oh yeah, clearly this us gonna be a serious wild ride ... I love that she's just a massive daredevil about this while the rest of them are deeply alarmed by the journey ...

Stepping out ... aha, the Shore is in sight. Here we go, then.

Ashton: "How do you grieve if you don't know what was taken from you?" Oh man ...

Jirana: "I am perpetually surrounded by broken things. They can always be mended in time."

Farewell to Jirana then, while the rest of them head to the shore. And that's it for tonight.

Yeah, Matt DID go all out on the Miyazaki vibe tonight, didn't he? I loved it ... :3

[afewproblems]

15 Questions

Thank you for the tag @flowercrowngods this was very fun to do!

are you named after anyone? I was almost named after my dad's sister that passed away when he was younger, but my mom thought I should have my own name, that if I had gone through life named after her it could have given all of us a few hang ups I guess.

2. when is the last time you cried? Hmm back in December I think, and maybe a little bit yesterday - there were some dogs at a trade show I was working that were from a rescue society and one had been at the shelter for 5 months :(

3. do you have kids? I do not!

4. do you use sarcasm? It's like a second language at this point.

5. what is the first thing you notice about people? Hmm, usually the first thing that I will notice is their eyes I guess for physical traits, and then for personality if they seem kind or funny - definitely a great way to make a fast friend. Make me laugh!

6. what is your eye color? Brown!

7. scary movies or happy endings? I mean, one of my favourite genres is horror comedies so...why not both?

8. any special talents? I can sing pretty decently!

9. where were you born? Canada!

10. what are your hobbies? Writing is a big hobby at the moment, but I do also dabble in water-colour painting and sketching. I took almost a year off in 2020 to make a go of it.

11. do you have any pets? I have a dog!

12. what sports do you play/have you played?......I am the most uncoordinated person I know, I play no sports haha!

13. how tall are you? Five foot, eight inches (172 CM)

14. favorite subject in school? Art for sure, then drama, then english.

15. dream job? Oof, uh maybe owning a little bakery would be very cool, but honestly I don't think I have one. I dream of living comfortably and making enough money to have the things I want and a little time on the side for my hobbies haha.

Tagging @steddierthings @monstrousfemale @stevesbipanic I hope thats alright! (I'm not really sure who else to tag, but if you would like to join please feel free!!

[aquadestinyswriting]

Dirk for that weaponry ask

Thank you very much for the ask.

Are there any famous stories in the story?

Oof, where to start with this one? There are quite a few, honestly because those stories within the story are based on the ttrpg campaign previous to the one I talk about in my wips. But I think I'll go with my favourite (tagging @druidx so she can add in anything that I missed in this retelling):

So Selene was part of an adventuring party that was tasked with taking care of a Dracolich that went by the name of Karylax. Karylax had killed a friend of Selene's mentor, Yastromo, and was generally causing mayhem. So off goes Selene, along with the rest of her party, to face and find a way to permanently kill him.

The party eventually manages to get to roughly where the beast's lair is located and try to figure out how to get to him since it's in the middle of a swamp, they don't have a boat and, understandably, don't want to risk wading through the water.

Karylax toys with the party for a bit, tiring them out by sending hordes of undead swamp creatures after them when the heroes came knocking. After the party had dealt with all the 'chaff' (I say chaff only because the stuff being thrown at us wasn't particularly powerful, but there was a lot of them), Karylax then finally shows up to finish them off.

Now, bear in mind, the fight had gone on long enough already that both wizards were basically out of spells (we played in 3rd edition d&d, so cantrips were limited), and Selene only had one spell left for the whole day by the time Karylax rocked up. Well, Karylax was being a dick and keeping to the air, which annoyed everyone because only one member of the group, the rogue, had any ranged attacks to throw at him. The rest were either tapped out wizards, or melee. So Alexis, the rogue in question, tells Selene to cast whatever spell she has left at the giant dracolich to see if she can bring it to ground level. Selene eyes up her opponent, makes some calculations and casts.

The spell she casts? Leomund's Secure Shelter, right in the middle of Karylax's exposed ribcage. Now Secure Shelter is not particularly large, all things considered, but it is still a small house, and plenty heavy enough to bring the undead dragon crashing to the ground. This last spell done, Selene leaves everyone else to deal with the now thrashing dracolich, climbs up the monster's ribs to the Shelters front door, glares at everyone else and tells them she's had enough and she's going to bed. Selene then proceeds to head inside, close the door behind her and be the only person to have had a Long Rest by the time the battle's over.

In the wip canon, this story has been told and retold so many times over drinks that it's basically become its own legend. For Selene, though, that fight gave her ptsd that she's never properly dealt with, and is a contributor to her extremely poor mental health.