#and when that does not work then seek additional treatment

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

I really think you're telling on yourself if you actually think that people are diagnosing themselves with every and any mental disorder in the DSM-5 from a tiktok. chronically online of you to think this tbh. it's giving, "I don't actually talk to people irl and all my information about this is from social media."

[ayaaamuhanna]

Stop ⚠️🤚🏼

Hey everyone ….

I’m aya muhanna i have friend that i know he told me about thiss app andd he told me that i’ll find people here to support me

And i had a Fundraising campaign and its going so bad and no one donate us

Am sharing on social media like instagram and tiktok but also its not working with me

And let me tell u my story :-

I just got 106€ and all i need 35000€

U can also add me on social media if u want thats my account :- aya._muhanna23

Tik tok: muhanna_family

And let me tell u my story…

I'm Aya Abdel Nasser Muhana, a 21-year-old student, and my life has been shattered by the October 2023 war. Our home was completely destroyed, leaving us with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Our 5500 square meter agricultural land was bulldozed. The legal accounting office owend by my father and brother is destroyed. The vital source of our livelihood.

The cornerstone of our income, was demolished. We lost everything—our home, our income, and my chance at education. I missed two crucial years of university—one spent accompanying my father for his cancer treatment in Egypt and Germany, and the other lost to the relentless conflict in Gaza.

The brutality of the war forced us to flee repeatedly, each time with nothing but our lives. We moved from Al-Maghazi Camp to Deir Al-Balah Camp, Rafah, and finally Alnusairat camp seeking safety but finding none.

Befor two years After discovering my father's diagnosis, we faced many struggles. To begin the treatment journey, we spent most of my father's savings, only to be shocked by my mother's diagnosis when my father was abroad. My sister and I were left as the only support for my mother, as my only brother was with my father. Thankfully, my mother did not suffer much from the disease and left us early, perhaps to spare us from worrying too much about her. However, her absence has left a big hole in our hearts. There are many things I still wanted to do with her, but she chose to leave us early. At that time, my sister and I were united, and I cannot bear the thought of losing my father if he does not receive suitable treatment.

https://gofund.me/5fd8c4ef

Now my father is battling his disease, requiring advanced medical care that is impossible to find here. He needs to leave Gaza urgently for treatment, as his doctor has advised.

Our family, consisting of my father, my brother & his family, my sister, and me, is in desperate straits. We have no income and my father, a retired employee, hasn't received his pension more than eight months. We are being crushed by the weight of our circumstances, and we are in dire need of your help. We need assistance to secure medical treatment for my father, cover our living expenses, and enable me to continue my university education in addition to study costs of my nephews. This is our plea for survival, for a chance to rebuild our lives and our future. From the depths of my heart, I thank everyone who can extend a helping hand to us.

The cost of evacuating Aya. and her family, is $30,000 (Hala Company charges $5,000 an adult and $2,500 a child to put us on the exit list and help us to evacuate from Gaza).

To cover GFM transaction fees (2.9% + $0.30 deducted per donation)

For shelter, food, supplies, treatment, etc. upon arrival in Egypt, We need $15,000.

Thanks in advance for all support you give to us!

Our lovely home which we've already lost:-

And this is the Fundraising campaign A donation of more than $5 will be worth more👇🏼👇🏼👇🏼

[lonniemachin]

Ahmed reached out to me to help spread his fundraiser. He is urgently attempting to raise money to evacuate his displaced 7-person family, including his parents, wife, and brothers, from Gaza to Egypt and gain access to necessities of survival. He has only made kr111,012 out of his kr350,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!

From Ahmed's GFM:

please note

conversion rate is (100 USD = 700 DDK)

Dear compassionate supporters,

I extend my heartfelt plea to you, driven by the urgency of the dire situation my family faces in the chaos of Gaza, a war-torn region. I am Ahmed Shamia, a fourth year student of application development, I come to you seeking your generous support to evacuate my beloved 7 family members from the hazardous conditions we currently endure in Gaza and relocate us to safety in Egypt.

Meet my remarkable family:

Parents:

Dad : A skilled social service employee and has many international certificates.

Mom : The heart of our family, A lovely teacher.

Me and my wife: a nice couple the war destroyed our dreams to be a nice family.

My sick brother Yasser : who has cerebral palsy and need an immediate care.

My middle brother Mahmoud : who have a big dream to complete his study.

My little brother omar: he also have a big dreams to study like every child in the world.

Shortly after the war started, our house was bombed, and we’ve since been displaced more than four times and lost all of our money. Our only hope of restoring some semblance of normal life is to evacuate. For over 170 days, we’ve lacked basic necessities. Among other things, we lack access to clean water, medicine, healthcare, and gas for cooking.

The Urgent Situation:

my family suffers of displacement and inability to care my older brother, who has cerebral palsy and cannot eat even his food. He eats it with difficulty because of problems in his lungs, and he now needs care and treatment. The medicines have become severed and his condition deteriorates day after day so that he does not know the taste of sleep because of the disease.

As I write you, the Israeli army’s planned invasion of Rafah grows ever closer. We have lost everything we’d worked so hard to earn and build, and now have no place to go. ‏Your support and solidarity will give us a fighting chance of surviving and building our lives anew.

Financial Details:

Travel company (YA HALH) costs $5,000 for people over 18.

And $2,500 for people under the age of 18.

A total of $30,000 to evacuate the Shamia family from Gaza to Egypt.

And $10,000 to cover the care expenses of Yasser Mohamed Shamia, who suffers from cerebral palsy.

And an additional $10,000 to cover the cost of living and basic family needs.

Thank you for your kindness during this challenging time. Your support is crucial in this humanitarian endeavor.

any additional donations will go for their survival in Egypt and their return when war ends.

Gratefully,

Ahmed

[redavexat]

In case you missed any of the text, all of it is written here:

Medical transition works

80% of individuals reported significant improvement in dysphoria

78% of individuals reported significant improvements in psychological symptoms

72% of individuals reported significant improvement in sexual function

positive results across the board, even in 15- year follow ups

Source for all above: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/19473181/

"Wellbeing was similar to or better than same-age young adults from the general population" source for the above:

Quality of life increases dramatically with 'gender affirming treatment

source for the above: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6224813/

Long term follow-ups: https://www.jsm.jsexmed.org/article/S1743-6095(15)32422-X/fulltext

The above link shows as unsafe when you open it, it'll give you a message before sending you to the page. I'm not familiar enough with how websites work to confirm whether proceeding past that point is safe, click past the pop-up message at your own risk. I did, and the article IS there.

social transition works

"Shown to correlate with improved psychological functioning"

Source for above: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1054139X1630146X

levels of depression and anxiety which closesly match levels reported by cisgender children

Source for above: https://www.jaacap.org/article/S0890-8567%2816%2931941-4/fulltext

puberty blockers are safe and reversible

Hormone blockers are the only treatment used on adolescents that are completely reversible.

Source for above: https://assets2.hrc.org/files/documents/SupportingCaringforTransChildren.pdf

"Current evidence Does not support an adverse impact of gender- affirming hormone therapy on cognitive performance"

"Our results suggest that there are no detrimental effects of GNRHA on EF"

source for above: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0306453020301402?via%3Dihub

"Relieves stress for trans adolescents"

"is reversible"

Source for above: https://academic.oup.com/jcem/article/102/11/3869/4157558

"Poorer psychological well-being before treatment"

Source for above: https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1054139X20300276

"Behavioural and emotional problems and depressive symptoms decreased"

source for above: https://sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S1743609515336171

Hormone blockers are not new: "Since the mid 1990s..." and "The Royal college of psychiatrists, in 1998..."

source for above: https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/26895269.2020.1747768

Many more studies: This screen of the video is far too small and compressed for me to read most of these links. If anyone knows of a higher quality version, thatd be great.

Puberty blockers aren't harmful to bone density: https://www.eurekalert.org/news-releases/842073

Puberty blockers don't cause osteoporosis or sterility: https://academic.oup.com/jcem/article/84/12/4583/2864749 Transphobia is real [personal side note, this comment isn't in the video: Does this really need a source to begin with?]: https://fra.europa.eu/sites/default/files/eu-lgbt-survey-results-at-a-glance_en.pdf

46% felt discriminated against or harrassed within the past year for being trans

29% felt discriminated against when it came to looking for employment

70% hid being trans during schooling before becoming 18 years old

55% had an incident of violence within the past year in part or whole because of them being trans

The ~40-50% Suicide rate is fake It's the attempt rate: https://transequality.org/sites/default/files/docs/resources/NTDS_Report.pdf

The suicide rate is undocument and doesn't exist.

Discrimination is harmful

The attempt rate rises for people who: Lost a job due to bias (55%) were harrassed/ Bullied in school (51%) Had low household income were the victim of physical assault (61%) were the victim of sexual assault (64%)

Same source as above for attempt rate

Other factors include: gender-based victimisation discrimination bullying violence being rejected by the family, friends, and community harrassmentby intimate partner, family members, police and public discrimination and ill treatment at health-care system

source for above: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5178031/

[Another illegible "Many more studies" screen]

Social/ familial support helps:

[Top link doesn't work]

[next is too illegible]

It can decrease the likelihood of a suicide attempt 57% -> 4%

Chosen name/ pronoun use does the same:

https://www.jahonline.org/article/S1054-139X(18)30085-5/abstract 71% drop in severe depression 34% drop suicidal ideation 65% drop in suicide attempts

Gender and sex aren't the same These institutions and organisations would like to disagree with you: American Psychological association American medical association American psychoanalytic association Human rights campaign american academy of pediatrics american college of osteopathic pediatricians royal college of psychiatrists United Nations United Kingdom's National Health Service (NHS) American academy of child and adolescent psychiatry American academy of dermatology American academy of family physicians American academy of Nursing American academy of physician assistants American college health association American college of nurse-midwives American college of obstetricians and gynecologists American college of Physicians American counselling association American heart association American medical association American medical student association American nurses association American osteopathic association American psychiatric assocation American Psychological association American public health association American society of plastic surgeons Endocrine society GLMA National association of nurse practitioners in women's health national assocation of social workers National commission on correctional health care pediatric endocrine society society for adolescent health and medicine world medical association world professional association for transgender health world health organisation (WHO) Stanford medical American pediatrician association National institutes of health Canadian institute of health research scientific american

[deathbxnny]

hello!! may i request gepard,welt,blade and danheng with a sirin like reader?? (platonic since sirin is 13-14 years old in the second eruption comic)

-----♡

A/N: Hello! Thank you so much for the cute request! I love Sirin so much! So I made the reader into a kid, because the idea was too cute!<33

Content: Reader is a troubled child, fluff, platonic relationships, fluff, angst if you squint so hard that you nearly close your eyes, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

-----♡

》Welt Yang

Ah yes, another troubled child to add to his ever growing adoption list. No seriously, this man has taken care of way too many of them and you are just another easy addition for him.

With that said, your somewhat troubling and bratty attitude does not affect him in the slightest and he doesn't even really react to it either. Instead, he redirects you to more productive and healthy ways of letting out your anger, even if your stubborn and defiant at first.

He'll listen to anything you tell him and tries his best to be a fatherly figure to you. He gives you anything you need and want, as long as you behave yourself accordingly. With time, you'll even find yourself healing from all the things that caused you to end up this way in the first place and appreciate Welt more.

So yeah, an easy task for him.

-----♡

》Gepard Landau

He's admittedly a little overwhelmed at first, which is why he seeks help from Serval for you. Your brattiness and unwillingly to cooperate is met by kindness and patience from the captain, which just fustrates and confuses you more, until you eventually just give up.

Once you do, things seem to get even better for you with him. He's willing to provide you with everything you want and makes sure you're always healthy. When he's at the frontlines, he sends you alot of letter and entrusts you to Servals care. He becomes like an older brother to you and you find yourself missing him whenever he leaves, which you'd never admit out loud.

Soon enough, you allow yourself to just be taken care of by him. He makes you feel protected and loved, something you always craved to feel. And so you begin to heal and turn into the child you were always meant to be, Gepard always supporting everything you do unconditionally.

-----♡

》Blade

Honestly the worst person on the list to give a child, especially a troubled and bratty one at that. But alas, he seems to be stuck with you, so he at first took it a little too lightly and thought that his scary and intimidating looks may do the trick in keeping you calm. But unfortunately that didn't work out the way he thought it would and just made you behave worse, which is when he decided to begrudgingly ask Kafka for help.

Soon enough, he learned that he had to change his ways a little to be able to deal with you properly and so he began just training you in order to give you some discipline. At first, you were very defiant and disinterested, until you started enjoying the attention and company he gave you. He quickly became a mentor of some sort and noticed how you began listening to him more as time went on, which he was very pleased with.

He will never admit it, but he won't let anyone hurt you now. You somehow warmed his cold and dead heart and made yourself a soft spot for him over time. He shows that by protecting and caring for you in his own stubborn ways. Seeing you have a childhood he never really got to have, satisfies him more than any battle could.

-----♡

》Dan Heng

He's unsure of how to handle you and your attitude at first, so he just decides to just... not. He'll just sit in his room with you in his line of sight and do his work, whilst you give him your stubborn silent treatment. Works for him, he supposes.

But soon enough, the loneliness creeps in and you find yourself beginning to warm up to the man slowly. He acknowledges that you are just a very troubled child and is willing to listen to you, as long as you treat him with equal respect. Eventually, he'll let you sit next to him as you both go through the many archives together and he teaches you about many new things. He finds enjoyment in seeing your child-like wonder and therefore just overloads you with information until you fall asleep on his shoulder.

Life is so serene and calm with him, that it's easy to heal from your past. You find yourself beginning to mirror his calmness and nonchalant attitude, always listening to his words in hope of getting more knowledge, as he takes care of you. He learned how to enjoy life more through you and guesses, that fate has blessed him with you for that reason. You can count on him to protect you, that's for sure.

-----♡

A/N: I hope this was okay! It was honestly so cute to write about, so thank you again for the request!<33

[blueweirdness]

While Alastor’s assistance to the hotel may have started out as an obligation or an opportunity To get out of it, it's clear that working at the hotel is just adding to his need for freedom. Not merely to be free from servitude either, but to get away from Charlie and the others specifically.

Because as much as he may have grown fond of the cast, Alastor has shown consistently that he's not the type to stick around, to the point where I’m starting to believe that he’s actively avoiding planting roots.

Let's look at his two most positive relationships we've seen from him.

Mimzy initially gets the warmest reaction from Alastor in the first five episodes. Even when he tells her to leave, his doing so was nowhere near the furious reception that Charlie’s dad got. He even acknowledges that he knew what Husk said was true: that she specifically sought him out to clean up her mess. This implies that he doesn't even seem to mind that “she only comes around when she wants something.”

Aside from the fact that she probably even brings him entertainment with her own mischief and the bad types chasing her, he clearly doesn’t mind someone who’s a little “trouble” since that makes her a kindred spirit.   Notice as well that he didn't deny that little "You love taking care of me!" line.

But perhaps he also doesn't mind this treatment because it means that he can keep her at a healthy distance while he seeks out his own entertainment and reputation.

Then there's Rosie, who might be even better for him since she can clearly hold her own to the point that she can shape up an entire colony. She acknowledges that she missed him when he showed up, but her reaction is relaxed enough to tell me that she's used to him coming and going as he pleases. She doesn't even make the same kind of comment that Zestiel does about being afraid that he was dead.

I think it's also worth noting that he isn't apparently considered the co-leader of the cannibal colony alongside Rosie even though he easily could. Dude has the power obviously, and he has the respect of both the cannibals and the primary leader. Just saying, if anybody has a chance of running Rosie's Emporium with her without the risk of getting his name crossed out, it's Al.

The point is both of these relationships are such that while they're close they aren't all together clingy and Alastor doesn’t have to regard them as a weakness or even an anchor.

In addition to that, we've also seen him outright deny teaming up with the Vees. And idk, he really could just hate TV that much, but I couldn't help but notice it fits into this pattern.

Even Husk and Nifty are literally in a position where he can call them whenever he decides and are presumably left to live their lives outside of that.

Then there's Charlie and the gang. Okay, I believe he likes them, you (probably) believe he likes them. Whether or not you're sold on him being completely redeemed or not, it's clear he's probably experiencing some kind of change. And he's going through it kicking and screaming. 

But what I believe separates his affiliation with the hotel with his other relationships is simply that one way or another he feels chained to it. Even if this is some long game he's playing to use as a back door, there's a reason he stuck around as long as he has.

 And I think that's killing him inside.

This is a man who’s either used to batting away antagonism with a flick of his clawed hands or else not feeling the need to take any responsibility due to embracing a reputation of evil.

He's shown to have no problem with the fluffy positive side of relationships, but I think he hates being shown as caring about anything to the point where something bothers him.

[jewishmcr]

I recently made the extremely difficult decision to leave my synagogue two months shy of completing my conversion requirements because I couldn’t continue to support a congregation that aligns itself with “liberal Zionism.” I’ve been working towards conversion for nearly two years and this decision has been weighing on me heavily since October. I wanted to share the email I sent to my rabbi, in the event that it resonates with or helps other people in some way (I have redacted information about the specific synagogue for privacy). I would love to hear from others pursuing conversion to Judaism who have experienced similar issues!

Dear Rabbi,

I’ve been putting a lot of thought into the conversation we had last week, and I appreciate the time you took to speak with me and help me think about next steps. I’ve spent countless hours over the past seven months interrogating my relationship to [synagogue], Judaism, and Zionism, and am devoted to continuing to pursue conversion to Judaism. Although I desperately wish to carry on and finish out the conversion process with [synagogue], I cannot continue to do so.

I acknowledge and deeply appreciate that [synagogue] takes the radical stance of wholeheartedly condemning the actions Israel has been taking against Palestinians, and that this opinion is extremely rare among synagogues. I am glad that [synagogue] continues to push for the dignified existence of Palestinians and the recognition of their right to exist in land that has long been their home. These stances give me much hope for the future of organized American Jewish life across the country, and I hope that [synagogue] will remain at the forefront of progressive Judaism. All of this being said, I refuse to compromise my own morals, those both personal and religious, for the sake of the convenience of completing my conversion quickly. Zionism, even “liberal” zionism, is a colonial project that has, from the very establishment of the state of Israel, resulted in the deaths, displacement, and torture of Palestinians. I cannot separate an idealized hypothetical version of zionism from its concrete reality. I do not believe that the Jewish people ever had an inherent right to occupy land by forcible displacement. I do not believe that the state of Israel had the right to be established in 1948. Especially considering that on May 15th, 1948, one day after the official establishment of Israel, the first Nakba began. The day that you and I spoke marked the 76th anniversary of this horrific event, something that weighed heavily on my mind during our conversation. It is also my belief that Israel should not continue to exist as a nation. This has been my belief for quite some time, but it has strengthened exponentially since October 7th.

I understand that many members of [synagogue], including possibly clergy, share these beliefs with me. I also understand that I would not feel content in my conversion if I carried it out in a synagogue that continues to ally itself with zionism in any form. The version of Judaism that I want to create for myself has no space for zionism in any capacity. I seek a Judaism that, in addition to condemning Israel as [synagogue] does, is anti-zionist in words, actions, and religious practices.

I am heartbroken to be leaving [synagogue], which has been providing me with a community of fellow LGBT Jews since I moved to [current city]. This is not a decision I am making lightly, nor is it a decision that I’m happy to be making. I do not know yet what the next steps of my journey will be, but unfortunately it will not include [synagogue]. Although I did not yet want to admit it, I knew this was my decision when you asked me towards the end of our conversation if I could see myself continuing to worship, celebrate, and mourn with the [synagogue] community if I were to continue pursuing conversion here. My answer, unfortunately, is no. My discomfort with [synagogue]’s treatment of the genocide in Palestine has already caused me to withdraw significantly from synagogue life, as well as from completing the conversion requirements. I have found it increasingly difficult to jump through the hoops when I have a strong moral opposition to [synagogue]’s identity as a liberal zionist congregation. This decision is particularly difficult for me because, as you said, I’m unlikely to find a congregation willing to openly condemn Israel any more than [synagogue] does. I remain optimistic that eventually, I will be able to complete my conversion of my own terms among a community that shares my anti-zionism stance.

I thank you, [rabbinical intern], and everyone else from the [synagogue] community who has been there for me over the past two years. I have learned much and gained invaluable perspectives during my time at [synagogue], all of which I will take with me as I continue on the path to conversion. I plan to reach out to [rabbinical intern] separately as well as share my decision with the rest of my gerut group.

Thank you for everything,

Oliver

[lilacartsmadsion]

I’ve been bored so have a writing thing about the ‘That time I adopted a god AU’

Anger Capabilities:

Basically what happens if you anger one of the gods. And the consequences that will happen when it comes to it.

Now it takes A LOT to anger the gods, they get annoyed sure but to anger them completely is like a rare phenomenon and is used as a learning experience for everyone.

Ranked from Least Destructive to Most Destructive.

Strawberry Cookie.

Now Strawberry Cookie is still the shy and considerate Cookie she is, so she won’t fully express her anger, but if you do anger her or insult her ways she will leave you. Like love, if you treat love or the one you love horribly they will eventually leave you. Either through death or hatred. As the manifestation and the goddess of love Strawberry will leave your life forever.

The consequences of this is that you will forever be revolted both romantically and platonically. Everyone is repulsed by you unless you seek her forgiveness. This can range from the person responsible for angering her to a whole village or crowd angering her. Usually the cookie ends up dying alone or killed out of hatred.

Gingerbright.

I know, shocking. But Gingerbright just straight up gives you the silent treatment and ignores you and your prayers. She doesn’t answer nor does she care if you’re hurt unless you ACTUALLY change. The only reason it came to desperation for Poison Mushroom is because they lived in the dessert where food was not abundant. In addition to this, Gingerbright lets you fend for yourself. She won’t deny you crops or water however she will basically leave you to your own devices. Aka if your crops are no longer growing that’s your responsibility to fix it not her. In addition to this, if you fail to get food outside your living area you won’t be getting answers from her. Instead she’ll just focus on other villages for the time being.

The Consequences of this differ as either people find success through hardship or suffer more hardship, usually the latter. There is no more ‘fun’ or ‘joy’ just constant work just to get food or water or even money. ‘You are alone in this’ is basically her motto if you anger her completely.

Wizard Cookie

Of course Wizard Cookie is one of the ones you definitely do NOT want to anger. Most likely he’d be the one to physically retaliate. Wizard Cookie would be the most likely to send storms against those who wronged him or curse/summon a monster against the cookie. He is the one who is most likely to send disasters and hoards of beasts against those who dared to anger him and basically give you a lifetime of bad luck.

The Consequences are obvious, you cannot hide, you cannot run, you can only fight or seek forgiveness. Angering Wizard Cookie is no joke.

Gingerdozer.

Now Gingerdozer is more than the god of the darkest night, he is also the god of death itself, but letting you feel the abyss of death is probably too merciful. First he’ll let you experience what your life after death will be like if you do not change your ways. If you continue he will send crows and ravens to alert your time of death. Then in the crowd you will see his angel come forth lurking and telling you that your time has come.

And as you try your best to avoid him, suddenly he appears and sends your soul down where you belong.

The Consequences of this is usually unexplainable anxiety, fear and paranoia as well as subtle hallucinations. The reason as to why this is most destructive is because the angel (Licorice) showing up is unable to conceal himself in front of his victim, and as a bonus, if multiple cookies from the same area anger Gingerdozer, they will get the fright of seeing Licorice. As though the ravens and crows might just mean anyone, Licorice showing up is the final nail on the coffin that you are going to die.

This also causes slight insanity.

Gingerbrave/Nameless.

So now we have the one god that is incredibly difficult to anger, Nameless is unfortunately a really really kind god who tends to lean under the goodness of cookies’ hearts, so to anger him is like unleashing the very wrath of the Witches he slew.

Nameless is more than the god of light, he is the god of life, all cookies were made by him, the dough, the flavor and life powder. The other Five handle the rest (Wizard is the Mind, Strawberry is the Soul, Gingerbright is the Heart and Gingerdozer is handles mortality.) As such if you take advantage of life, Nameless will slowly take it away from you.

He first takes away your abundance, your mortal wants and desires, then he takes away your needs, your food your water anything that gives you life and nourishment, next he takes away everyone closest to you, leaving you alone in your wake and lastly, he appears before you, and takes away your power, your will and your mortality. He makes you relive the way cookies were originally baked. Into the realm of fire you go and never wake again.

Consequences? Usually other people around you are affected, and though Nameless feels sorry for those people they needed to find the motivation to see what wrongs that the person caused. Sometimes this unfortunately leads to others dying, but it is an ultimate consequence for when you anger the god who worked hard to keep others at peace.

Also land destruction at best…Nameless will actually STOP making plants grow, he will contaminate the waters and cause plagues in the process with the help of the other gods.

I mean damn he kicked out the Wizards what did you expect?

[yhwhsdaughter]

kishibe x fem reader + quanxi

content: angst, frenemies, mentions of sex, depression

“Why’d you join?”

Kishibe was less than warm, watching with a keen eye as the young woman moved with grace—fist under chin as she contemplated on his question “Hmm..” a few seconds passed before she snapped her fingers, as if the thought had just occurred to her, answering with faux sincerity,

“I want to help humanity!”

Kishibe had been a Devil Hunter long enough for him to know that most people weren’t noble enough to risk their life for the benefit of others. The majority that passed through had a chip on their shoulders - revenge seeking individuals that after facing the horrors of dealing with devils, if they survived, would quit immediately, realizing that it just wasn’t worth it.

“Liar.”

One of the things Kishibe liked about Quanxi was her brutal honesty and mighty fist. Unlike her, their newest addition to the team, a pretty thing called [Name], seemed to mask her intentions behind a wall of innocence, not that he particularly cared.

Unfazed, she responded with an enigmatic grin, “I look forward to working with you, Mad Dog Kishibe.”

.

.

.

Despite reeking of mistrust, the three of them worked well. Quanxi and Kishibe outranked [Name] in skill, though she possessed a nearly unbreakable will. Even when she was on the brink of death, the young woman would force herself up.

“Quanxi-sama!”

Kishibe’s eye twitched. “Unfair treatment, don’t you think?” Everytime he confessed his feelings, Kishibe was at the receiving end of Quanxi’s fist. Yet, the latter’s semblance softened just slightly whenever [Name] got close.

Though he was ignored by Quanxi, his other teammate had no qualms in teasing him, sticking her tongue out, childishly asking as she hung on the woman’s arm, “Jealous?”

For a few months that was their dynamic. [Name] would do her best to piss him off, flirting with Quanxi who would allow such ministrations. “Ah, Quanxi, I don’t mind if you punch me~”

To their surprised, she looked down, “Mn” before planting a soft kiss on [Name]’s lips. It brought a tiny bit of rouge to her cheeks, her battered body suddenly bridled with excitement,

“Kiss me more!”

Truly, to survive as a Devil Hunter, you had to be a little bit crazy.

The frustrated male was often left out of conversations when the two women spoke in Chinese, always initiated by [Name]. She would then glance at Kishibe with a mischievous glint, blowing him kisses. During one of their breaks, he made it a point to ask, purposely blowing smoke in [Name]’s face, which she hated.

“Where’d you learn Chinese?”

Her hand waved through the air, coughing, “Put that out—! And I learnt it from my mother. Her work took us to many places.” One thing he found interesting about [Name] was that she’d always mention her mother, enough for Kishibe to know that the older woman was a renowned doctor. “Father?” the first and last time he asked, she just shrugged, “I don’t know him. Mother only slept with him to have me. He loved her but she didn’t return his feelings.”

Huh, why does that sound familiar?

Extending an arm, Kishibe offered a drag from his stick but [Name] merely shook her head, somehow always conscious of her health.

“Cigarettes kill.”

“So do devils.”

She leaned against the railing, peering at the sky. “Yeah but I don’t want to die yet. Not before I accomplish my goal..” the last part wasn’t meant for his ears. Before he could question it, [Name] turned to him, “Hey Kishibe..”

“Hm?”

“Will you have sex with me?”

.

.

.

They did it a couple of times, mostly to get their frustrations out. Even as [Name] rode him with inexperienced hips, she managed to top him every single time.

As much as he loved women, his weakness was the strong ones. “Annghh.. are you this desperate for Quanxi~? It’s okay, I want to sleep with her too.” She grinned, seeing the conflicted expression on his face - a mix of pleasure and annoyance. Of course she’d take the opportunity to be a little shit, especially when he was more focused on coming than returning her insults.

They laid side by side, bodies slick with sweat. “Don’t think you’re my woman now.” His blunt words did nothing to [Name], who only bit his earlobe, “You’re so cold Kishibe~” she was quick to get up from the bed, her nude back exposed, “I don’t want to be no man’s woman. I want to be Quanxi’s only.”

Love rivals sleeping with each other…

When [Name] made a contract with the Time Devil, she had no need for it. For a month, the young woman worked with a solemn face, the willingness to live now lost. It was the only instance Kishibe saw her cry and the first time he jumped in front.

Her hands felt soft as she stitched up the large wound that ran from lip to ear. “You’re an idiot. Who would want to be comforted by you? I want Quanxi..” is what she said, but the tears pricking her eyes showed otherwise.

Sniffing, [Name] continued her actions. “My mother… is the one who taught me how to..” she blubbered. Though the expression on her face—puffy eyes and snot running down her nose—was an ugly one, it was perhaps the most pleasant moment Kishibe had seen her in.

Finally, her mask had finally come down.

“I did it for her. I wanted to elongate her life but they only gave her a year.” The left side of his face felt numb but he sat through it. “She spent her entire life saving others from their illness but no one could save her in the end…not even me…”

.

.

.

It was unintentional that [Name] became a hybrid, fusing with the Time Devil. He made a contract after she offered her remaining lifespan.

Usually, she only had to make an equivalent exchange to use him. If she wanted time stopped for a minute, [Name] needed to forfeit a minute of her life. However, with her objective gone, the young woman saw no point in living any longer. Thus, she gave herself up.

It’s unknown why the devil would do that, but upon the completion of their contract, [Name] did not age. At the same time, when Kishibe told Quanxi that he liked her, nine years later, the woman admitted to liking their now-hybrid teammate.

“I know.”

Shortly after, he was approached by her. Time passed and though [Name] looked the same, her impish behavior remained but she’d matured a little.

“I’m going with Quanxi to China.”

That was perhaps the last time they would ever see each other. [Name], the rock on the bottom of his shoe, would soon leave his side. Was it pathetic of Kishibe to think that he’d grown accustomed to the feeling of the same stone pressing on his sole and that he did not want her to leave?

She closed in, serious demeanor, pressing a delicate kiss on his mouth, “Take care, Kishibe.”

Yes, a silly thought indeed.

[xalygatorx]

Unbound | Chapter 2, "A Strange Sort of Bard"

Áine Ts'sambra—a wayward half-drow bard with a painful past—has her world upended when she's snatched up by a Nautiloid ship and furnished with a tadpole to the brain. In her journey to remove the infestation before it can turn her and her newfound companions illithid, she not only finds that their solution has more layers to parse through than she can count, but that a particular vampire in her party does as well.

Unbound is an ongoing generally SFW medium-burn romance based in the world of Baldur's Gate 3 between Astarion and a female OC. Any NSFW content will be marked in the Warnings section. Contains angst, fluff, explorations of trauma, spice, graphic fantasy violence, and a guaranteed happy ending.

For anything additional on what to expect (and not expect), check the preface post.

Summary: Lae’zel joins the group and expresses her belief that their only salvation is a githyanki crèche. Shadowheart expresses her concerns about the newest member of their troop to Áine. The group settles down to camp for the night and mingle and misstep around each other as only new companions can. Astarion begins to formulate how he can best secure some form of protection while he outruns his past.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!OC

Warnings: Lightly proofread; vague mentions of Cazador's past treatment of Astarion (content, possible spoilers); brief suggestive dialogue

Word Count: 5.1k

Listening to: Vampire Smile - Kyla La Grange

“Chk, you presume to rest while these worms in our heads will do no such thing? While they writhe and squirm until they peel our skin back to reveal new ghaik?”

Áine sighed and tried not to let Lae’zel’s charming way with words get to her more than it needed to. There was little she could do. Not only was she exhausted, she’d seen the others begin to drag as well by the time they’d gotten the githyanki warrior down from the hunter’s snare and away from the tieflings preparing to kill her. 

Or try to, anyway. Áine had a feeling they wouldn’t have been the victors of that fight based solely on what she’d seen on the Nautiloid and felt in her mind’s eye when Lae’zel had connected their parasites earlier on. White-hot rage that burned even more brightly than her own. 

“Yes, Lae’zel,” she sighed again, “I presume to rest. We’re useless if we’re exhausted.”

“A weakling’s rationale,” she snipped in disapproval. “Fine. We will make camp, but I will be taking the first watch. Should I see a single tentacle split your skull, I will not hesitate to end you.”

“Good,” Áine said. “I wouldn’t want you to hesitate if I’m that progressed. I swear to you I’m not interested in becoming a mind flayer.”

Lae’zel was as satisfied as she could be by that, even respected Áine’s response somewhat. Most would do anything to dodge death’s downsweeping ax, even hide their condition at the expense of their allies. Lae’zel saw that as a coward’s response and was starting to consider that, despite her insistence upon sleep, perhaps this Áine was no coward.

Still her plans of action bothered Lae’zel and if she were to travel with the group in good conscience, she had one more thing to assert. 

When she crouched down near Áine, who was hunched over some tinder and striking a fire, Áine looked up at her. She met the gith’s eyes and, on contact, they bore into hers in a way Áine thought was perhaps meant to cow her. It wouldn’t work if so, but it was equally possible that this was how intense Lae’zel was all the time. Either way, she didn’t take it personally. “Yes?” she asked encouragingly.

“You think the Grove our best course of action for the removal of these ghaik tadpoles,” Lae’zel stated, one of her hands mirroring her pointed cadence with sharp, quick gestures. It was both fascinating and a little unnerving. “Our best hope of purification is a crèche. Each day we waste without seeking the aid of my people is another day we lose to the worm.”

Áine offered her a small smile and said, “Understood. The Grove is closer for now, so it makes sense to me to go there first. While we’re there, we can ask Zorru about where he saw more githyanki. If the Grove’s healer is able to get rid of our parasites, then fantastic, but if not we can work on our other lead for the crèche.” Her voice was gentle but firm. Over Lae’zel’s shoulder, Áine spotted Shadowheart glaring in their direction. Camp politics… Definitely didn’t miss this, she thought, swallowing a sigh.

“Chk, fine…,” Lae’zel grumbled, straightening up. “Your intentions carry logic. Just remember that ceremorphosis will not. And it can begin its onslaught at any moment.”

“Understood,” Áine said again, and that was enough for Lae’zel to finally leave her to getting a fire going, the petite, wiry githyanki stalking over to where one of the extra tents they’d scavenged the previous day lay waiting. 

She felt eyes on her still and kept her own eyes glued to the flint in her hands as a result, not inviting further conversation until she had a few things done. She needed to set up a tent for herself, or at least pop a bedroll down by the fireside if a tent felt like too much work. Her energy was waning and she was on nearly three nights with little to no sleep, so this rest was much needed as long as she actually rested during it. 

Áine had a feeling she wasn’t the only one having a bit of a sleepless streak. Gale had been a veritable grump toward the last leg of their journey before they stopped again. Shadowheart had seemed weary but overall in fine spirits until they’d come across Lae’zel again. Astarion was uncharacteristically quiet come sundown, which was when she’d finally taken stock of the party’s overall mood and suggested they make camp.

A spark flew from her next strike of the flint and finally caught on a bit of the tinder she’d collected, and she guarded the tiny flame against the nightly wind until it grew large enough to sustain itself, eventually engulfing the woodpile. 

Áine sat back and ran her hands over her face, eventually just pinching the bridge of her nose and closing her eyes. Her head hurt and it didn’t feel like it had much at all to do with the tadpole so much as the stress of carrying it. And perhaps carrying the others’ expectations on her shoulders too. She hadn’t signed up to be the leader of their growing troop, but a leader she was and she felt that pressure like a boot heel resting on her neck.

“Are you alright?” It would seem Áine was having sighs for a meal today as she swallowed another one and opened her eyes to look up at Gale now standing near the fire. “Aside from the obvious, of course?”

Áine dropped her hands into her lap and gave a lift of her shoulders. “Sure. Are you?”

“I’d like to think so,” he said, the concern lingering on his face. At least he seemed in a slightly better mood now that they’d stopped. “I can handle dinner if you’d like to go rest or check on the others or whatever you’d like to do. You could even see about fixing up that lyre we found.”

Áine smiled, appreciating that he was trying to be helpful. “Thank you, Gale. Just shout if you need any assistance, yeah?”

“Will do,” he chuckled. “I do enjoy cooking though, so it’s my pleasure to take charge of that for as long as we journey together.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” she said, standing and brushing off her trousers as she left the fireside to find her pack and decide how she was going to handle her sleeping arrangements. 

Nearby, over the edge of a book he’d plucked from a decrepit wagon in their day’s travels, Astarion eyed their leader’s conversation with Gale and her retreat to set up her tent, he imagined. There was a chance that they would be “relieved” of their tadpoles on the morrow, which on the front of the ceremorphosis threat was a good thing. However he was less and less sure that he wanted his own parasite gone just yet. 

Thus far, it had proven to hold more pros for him than cons—the ugly little thing was changing the rules of his existence for the better and after 200 years of torture and blood-based fetch quests for a sire he abhorred. Where no one had answered his prayers for help in those two excruciating centuries of pain and rot, the mind flayer ship had set him free. He’d be a fool not to try to capitalize on this as much as he possibly could. 

Keeping the parasite was one option, the better one as far as he was concerned, even if it did threaten to turn him into a tentacled monster at any given moment. He had more autonomy this way, something he’d not felt a breath of for as long as he could remember. However, if he was relieved of the parasite and had to return to the shadows, he would be even more at a loss for what he could do to remain out of Cazador’s clutches. Regardless, he’d need some measure of protection and would remain firmly unsettled until he got it.

Careful crimson eyes roved across the campsite, calculating the usefulness of his new travel companions. He knew what he had to trade—arguably the only thing he was good at. The question was which one of them would crumble most easily? He already had a sense of that, but opted to weigh his options in full, even just for fun.

Gale was tragically heterosexual as far as he could tell. He had a feeling he could have pretty easily manipulated the man otherwise with a simple stroke of the ego. Astarion’s presumed skill set required more than that though—to feel at ease, he needed whomever he got his hooks into to feel locked in. It was the only way to guarantee him some form of protection. Not only that, but Gale was already all but ogling each female member of their party sans the githyanki, who would happily flay him with minimal encouragement. Thus, Gale was out. 

Next was Lae’zel. He’d had the least amount of time to try learning to read her so far, but he felt he could at least mostly take what he saw of her at face value. She didn’t keep her cards close to her chest. In fact, she took the whole proverbial deck of cards and threw them on the floor whenever she didn’t like the game. He could respect that, but he doubted he could manipulate that and make it out in one piece, which was kind of the point. Bloodthirsty and fun as she seemed, she was too dangerous a gamble.

Shadowheart had crossed his mind. She had secrets to uncover and when seduction and sex alone weren’t enough to hold someone in place, knowing their secrets could be an invaluable asset. If he was any good at gauging age as well, she was young by their kind’s standards, even as a half-elf. In fact, she was around the age he’d been when he died the first time, only to be brought back up through a clawed path of congealed blood and dirt to surface at Cazador’s feet. Reflecting on how naïve he’d been even then, even after spending nearly 40 years out in the world—or at least in the pocket of the world that Baldur’s Gate occupied—even after working his way through his schooling to gain his position as magistrate. She seemed to hold some of that naïveté, but she also seemed hellbent on whatever mission was taking her back to the city. She was already on guard for anything to sway her from her destination. And while her healing abilities were strong and had already proven extremely useful in just the short time they’d all banded together, he lacked confidence in her ability to actually fight out of formation, something he might very well need on his side.

Which left…

Astarion’s borderline predatory eyes slid back toward Áine, bent over her bag and rummaging through its contents. The braid Shadowheart had put in her hair that morning had become a bit mussed throughout their day, but it became her, he decided. Wisps of pearly strands flying free from their binds, a few even dropping to frame her face. He was far from admitting it, but had his decision been purely on the criteria of looks, she would’ve been his first choice. Despite his earlier assessment of her that included in his own words “eyes the color of dirt,” he would’ve had to have been blind to not think she was lovely to look upon. More than that, however, he’d seen her fight. She could handle herself better than all of them, except perhaps Lae’zel, who he had yet to see in combat. And yet there was something soft about her that Astarion could see becoming easily malleable beneath his practiced, plying fingers.

No, protecting her flank in the occasional fight wasn’t enough. He needed to endear her to him.

Decision made, Astarion’s gaze flickered back down to his book. Across the way, Áine finally found what she was rummaging for—the little tin in which she kept her mint leaves. She popped the lid and inhaled deeply, pulling the spicy scent deep into her sinuses to try and stave off the throb in her head. It helped one blessed increment, and she slipped a sprig past her lips to bite down on as she replaced the tin and stood up, turning straight into Shadowheart standing next to her.

“Oh my goodness,” Áine startled, her gasp becoming an embarrassed chuckle. “I didn’t even see you there. Everything alright?”

“You tell me,” Shadowheart said, and Áine was surprised to hear a peeved edge to her voice. When Áine cocked a brow at her, Shadowheart elaborated in a lowered tone, “What were you two talking about?”

Áine frowned, glancing over Shadowheart’s head toward Lae’zel and Gale separately before she returned her attention to Shadowheart. “...Me and who?”

“You and Lae’zel,” she said, seeming to think she’d caught Áine in some sort of deception. “You should tread lightly on who you confide in… Especially her. She seems to take your kindness for weakness.”

Áine’s eyes narrowed and she said, “I haven’t ‘confided’ in anyone. She was expressing her opinions about finding a crèche being our best option and I was listening and expressing my own in return.”

“It eludes me why you’re being so…so good-natured towards her,” the cleric said, her tone harsh despite the anxiety Áine saw in her eyes.

On seeing that worry, Áine forced her shoulders to relax their tension, reminding herself that most of their negative reactions to things at the moment came from a place of fear, hers included. If she was going to be the diplomatic center of the group, she had to keep herself in check when the others couldn’t. “Because,” Áine said, her voice barely above a whisper, “she’s just scared. We’re all just scared. Her way of showing it is different from ours, your way is different from mine, and so on. She thinks she’s doing what’s best when she tries to strongarm me into a different route.”

“Is that what you think,” Shadowheart half-laughed, floored by Áine’s logic. Her jaw worked for a moment until she finally felt her own hackles slack as well. “Fine. Just be on your guard. With everyone, but especially her. Fair?”

“Fair,” Áine said. “Besides, we may only have one more night of this if this healer at the Grove can help us out with our little problems. One step at a time.”

Shadowheart nodded, loath to admit Áine was right even though she knew she was. “Indeed.”

Out of curiosity, Áine asked, “What will you do? If we end up cured tomorrow?”

Shadowheart’s brows rose. “Why do you ask?”

Áine laughed. “Just making conversation. Trying to get to know the people around me, even if I might never see them again after tomorrow.”

“What’s important about getting to know me?” Shadowheart asked, guarded.

Áine smiled and shook her head. “Nevermind. I can take a hint, and you don’t need to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

It was the cleric’s turn to smile, but it held a faint sneering edge. “I appreciate your discretion. All things with time, no? Although I do hope we run out of time for that tomorrow, only for the hope that we can get these awful things out of our heads.”

“I can’t disagree,” Áine said, leaning down and hooking her fingers through the handle of her newfound, but near-busted lyre. “I’m feeling hopeful.”

Shadowheart nodded. “I am as well, hinging on cautious optimism as always.”

They parted ways when Áine meandered back toward the fireside, setting the lyre in her lap and setting to “fixing” it as much as she could, never having held a lyre before. Experimentally, she plucked the strings, adjusting their tension whenever she found one too lax or too tight. The others’ footsteps and voices faded into the background, and she vaguely heard Gale announce that the stew he’d been working on was done, which was when the ambient camp sounds coalesced more closely around her. 

Shadowheart sat down near her by the fire, thanking Gale when she was handed a bowl of stew and immediately beginning to refuel her famished body. Lae’zel accepted Gale’s offering of dinner, but took it back to her tent where she was running a whetstone along the edge of her longsword, something Áine gathered already was an evening ritual for her. 

Astarion was better prepared this time when he was offered a meal, barely looking up from his book when Gale called over to him and holding up a half-”eaten” apple in response that he’d really just taken chunks out of with his dagger before flicking them into the brush. If he was going to manage his little plan past its early stages, he needed to keep certain things under wraps for as long as he could. After all, no one took well to a vampire.

He kept an eye on the party near the fire, his eyes honing in on what was surely an intentional brush of hands on Gale’s part when he handed Áine her dinner. Astarion measured Áine’s response to the casual touch, but if it bothered or delighted her, he couldn’t tell. She simply thanked the unsubtle wizard and went back to her tinkering. Interesting.

Decisively, Astarion tossed the remnants of his prop apple into the brush nearby, his other hand snapping his book shut and setting it near his bedroll as he rose to his feet and made his way to the group at the fire. He dropped down into a seat beside Áine, not too close for her to be startled but for her to know in no uncertain terms if she gave it any thought that he’d chosen to sit beside her. The game was on and he was its star player.

“Nice of you to join us,” Áine teased him, her tone gentle and unoffending. 

“Change your mind about something to eat?” Shadowheart asked.

“Just the fruit for me tonight,” he said, although he noticed his senses instinctively tuning in to the rhythmic pulse of the bard beside him. Another problem. I’ll need to hunt one night soon, he thought, the consideration a bit daunting. He and his siblings had been limited to bugs and rats by their oh-so-generous master, so the idea of feeding from something more substantial was both thrilling and daunting. Could he even hunt? 

The worry almost steered him in the direction of trying some of Gale’s concoction, even though he knew just from an earlier nibble of the apple he’d prepared that nothing but blood would sate him now. The crisp, white flesh of the fruit held a sweet memory far, far back in his mind, but it had tasted like ash in his mouth. Useless to his dark, twisted biology.

He was brought back to the present by some absent plucking of the strings beside him, quiet and uncertain. Astarion’s gaze shifted down to Áine’s delicate, nimble hands, just as careful and hesitant as the sounds she was producing from the shabby little lyre in her lap. It seemed that it was a new instrument for her. Either that or she was positively terrified of breaking the thing, but it did seem like her “playing” fell more into the realm of experimental plucking. Her features were taut with focus, comfortably in her own little world—it was almost charming.

Astarion was saved from buying into his own charade any further by a surprisingly flippant comment from Shadowheart. “What a strange sort of bard you are to not know how to play a lyre properly,” she said with a smug smile to Áine that faltered when the bard in question blushed with chagrin. Clearly Shadowheart had expected Áine to laugh or even start strumming the instrument with unveiled expertise at her goading. The result was instead awkward and worthy of a record scratch.

“I should have stayed at my tent,” Astarion mumbled, rolling his eyes up to regard the stars as he rested his chin against his hand.

“I’m sorry, Áine,” Shadowheart said, a second-hand flush staining her cheeks as she grew increasingly embarrassed at her own comment. “It was meant to be a joke and my delivery was…well, it wasn’t there at all, was it.”

Áine gave Shadowheart a kind smile and waved off her apology. “It’s fine. And it’s fair as well,” she said, her hands having stilled on the lyre strings. “I really only know my way around a flute. And can hold a cheery tune, of course, but neither do much for trying a stringed instrument for the first time.”

“Well, we’ll simply have to keep a weather eye out for any new instruments in our looting escapades henceforth,” Gale suggested. “I’m hopeful we have our wriggler problem solved tomorrow in the Grove, but if not then we’ll have plenty of downtime in which you can branch out and learn. If you want to, of course.”

A sweet, appreciative smile curved Áine’s lips and she awarded that smile to Gale as she said, “That sounds like a lovely idea.”

Astarion kicked himself for not arriving at the idea before Gale had the chance to speak it aloud.

“Then it’s settled,” Gale said, smiling back at her. Astarion bristled. “Right, I’ll get started on the cleanup.”

“I can do it tonight, Gale,” Shadowheart said, still looking a little uncomfortable. “Take it as my apology for killing the suppertime mood a little.”

“It really is okay, Shadowheart, you didn’t hurt my feelings,” Áine assured her, “Takes a little more than that.”

Shadowheart smiled. “You’re much too gracious. Still, I’d like something productive to do for the group tonight. And then Gale can have a chance to set up his tent and get settled.”

“You’re under no obligation, of course, but I do appreciate it,” Gale said, standing and leaving the fire after Shadowheart gave him a nod to go ahead. Shadowheart collected the bowls and the pot from the fireside, scraped clean from first and second helpings, and made her way down to the shoreline nearby to scrub them clean and give herself some time to decompress. 

Áine was glad that Gale liked cooking as much as he did because now that he had enough ingredients and the few spices they’d found to work with, his creations were quite tasty. It made settling down for the night, even with their affliction, seem a little cozier. She couldn’t help but worry a bit about Shadowheart though—she was being awfully hard on herself, but maybe that meant that she honored the growing friendship between them if she felt sorry for possibly hurting Áine’s feelings. 

And the truth was that it had hurt, just a quick twinge. More than anything it had reminded her how new to this calling, this way of life she was. How much she still had to learn. An exhilarating and frightening feeling all at once.

Áine noted that Lae’zel had been left with her dirtied bowl by her tent and something bordering irritation stirred in her at that, but she squashed it. It was highly possible in her embarrassment, Shadowheart had simply forgotten their newest companion. Although she couldn’t convince herself that even if she had remembered, that she’d have extended that kindness tonight.

She was pondering Shadowheart’s earlier tone when speaking to her of Lae’zel when her eyes shifted sideways and she remembered Astarion was next to her still. And…well, seeming quite comfortable, she supposed.

Áine had seen him stretch out before, usually when he was taking in the sun’s first morning rays wherever they landed, but that was much like a cat. The way he held himself now, relaxed but poised, felt more panther-ish. Predatory.

Her eyes shifted up to meet his and confirmed he was already staring at her almost-staring at him. A self-assured smile curved his lips. The cat—no, still panther—that ate the canary. “Erm… Hi?” she said, suddenly very aware that it was just them left at the fire.

“Well, hello,” he greeted her in kind. Alarm bells went off in the back of her mind. Charming as he was, this was an unnerving switch from the moods she’d seen from him thus far. Then again, he’d shown quite an array. Maybe he was delirious from a lack of sleep as well. “And what can I do for you?”

Áine laughed a little. She should be asking him that with the way he was looking at her, but she was wary of offering an inch at the moment lest he take a mile. “Let’s go with a general update. How are things?” she suggested.

“How are ‘things’?” he repeated, suddenly less certain. 

“Yes, how are you feeling? How are you adjusting?” Áine elaborated as she slowly started to fiddle with her lyre again. “Feeling at all tentacley or craving a post-apple brain?”

Astarion snorted, relaxing back into his lounging posture. So she wanted to small-talk—he could do that. And look like a veritable god doing it if he held himself just so and at this particular angle by the firelight… 

While his body settled seamlessly into old practices, he answered her questions. “As well as I could be, considering our…predicament. No tentacles to be seen and no inclination to suck on a skull,” he reported. A neck though… 

He was sorely reminded yet again that he needed to hunt. Perhaps not tonight, but soon.

Áine, none the wiser to his actual cravings, smiled beside him, amused by his wording. “Well, that’s good,” she said, looking up briefly as Shadowheart returned with their cleaned bowls and cooking pot, setting them back near the rest of their neutral cargo before she made her way to her tent. Her gaze flicked back to Astarion, who seemed deep in thought. “Something else on your mind then?”

He hid his startle well at being read. But internally it unnerved him how much she could already see. He tried to reframe that in his mind as something else to use to his advantage. At that moment, he decided to test her a little, get an early read on how much work he had yet to do. 

Astarion’s pale lips curved into the most charming, sensual smile Áine had ever seen, or at least had ever been the target of. She was surprised that she didn’t see yellow feathers between his pearly teeth when he flashed them her way. 

He heard her pulse drum ever-so slightly faster and took the cue. “This whole night—the stars, the night air, the firelight—got me thinking what tomorrow might bring… When we meet this healer tomorrow that the tieflings spoke of so highly, will this little adventure of ours be over?”

Áine frowned, but it was thoughtful. “I mean I suppose so,” she said, uncertain of what he was getting at. Teasingly, she suggested, “Why, would you miss me?”

“Well, why not?” Astarion tossed back. “You’re stronger than I gave you credit for—traversing Avernus, surviving the crash, fighting your way through the dangers we’ve faced thus far, and talking your way out of more earlier today. Those are all monumental feats.”

Áine cocked her head. “You did all those things too, you know. So did the others. I’m just trying to survive. Like you.” 

He scoffed with little more than a fleeting glance spared for the others, all retired to their tents in some form or another. “I suppose. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t find very many people impressive,” he said, snaring her gaze in his again with one flick of his shocking red eyes. “But you’ve impressed me.”

Áine gave him a long, considerate look, and he could almost hear the wheels of her mind spinning a yarn. Just as he’d started to settle into some satisfaction that he’d rendered her speechless, she asked, “Right, what’s going on?”

Astarion’s eyes widened, but blinked innocently. Nothing innocent about him, she decided then. “I daresay I don’t know what you mean, darling,” he drawled, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smirk. “Can’t a man lavish his striking companion with her due admiration?”

Áine snorted softly and simply responded with a smirk of her own, “Watch yourself, Astarion.”

“Oh, alright,” he groused, and Áine laughed at how immediately his little façade broke. “But my name does sound so good on your lips, my dear.” Maybe the façade wasn’t quite as broken as she thought.

Áine rolled her eyes, but the expression was good-natured as ever. “Don’t you have a reverie to sink into?”

“I have other things I’d rather sink into if it’s all the same,” Astarion purred.

“It’s not, in fact, all the same,” Áine rallied back, firm but patient. 

The smile still lingered on her lips, he noticed and he found himself restrategizing accordingly. So she would be tougher to crack than he’d wagered, but even without encouraging his advances, she seemed to find some enjoyment in this itself as a sort of game. And, in all honesty, he was having a bit of fun, too. This, he could work with. 

“Well, in that case, I’m afraid reverie or sleep are out of my grasp tonight,” he admitted and his honesty recaptured her attention. “This is all still…very new to me. The sounds around us, the quiet in comparison to the bustle I’m used to from the city. It’s nice, but it’s something to adjust to.”

Áine nodded. “I understand what you mean. Sleep has been tough for me to come by as well. 

Astarion turned another smile on her, this one with only half the earlier smolder. “Then you’d best get some rest, ‘fearless leader’,” he said, his voice soft. 

“Well, I would, but I didn’t set up a tent for myself and you’re sat on the bedroll I was planning to use,” Áine pointed out, mirroring his honeyed tone almost perfectly.

That earned a low chuckle from the pale elf beside her, the way his gaze dropped to the bedroll he was indeed sitting upon and the sheepish half-smile that followed a wordless “touché” to her claims. He lifted his head and nodded past her. “Go on and take mine. I’ll be of more use on watch tonight with Lae’zel, or instead of her if she opts for some rest in the night,” he said.  

Áine’s brow creased, surprised at his generosity even if it was a small gesture. “Are you sure?”

“I mean, if you’d prefer, we could both entangle ourselves in this one—”

“Nevermind, point taken,” she swiftly said, her words on the edge of an exasperated laugh as she rose to her feet, taking her lyre with her. “Thank you. And goodnight, Astarion.”

Astarion watched her go, eyes a little more tender the moment her back was turned, a detail unbeknownst to them both. “Sweet dreams, darling.”

Next chapter: Chapter 3, "Swan Songs"

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Max Eden

Published: Apr 26, 2024

The Biden administration’s new Title IX rules mean that all American public schools must operate on the fundamental falsehood of gender ideology.

Earlier this month, the U.K.’s National Health Service released the Cass Review, a report that urged Great Britain to pump the breaks on the experimental, sterilizing treatments marketed as “gender affirming care.” By contrast, earlier this week, the U.S. Department of Education issued its new Title IX regulations, which require public schools to facilitate a school-to-sterilization pipeline.

According to the Biden administration, Title IX of the Civil Rights Act now requires schools to treat students who suffer, or claim to suffer, from gender dysphoria as though they were the opposite sex. As the Cass Review argues, this is essentially a medical intervention. If you require teachers and students to treat a girl who thinks she is a boy as though she were a boy, you increase the likelihood that she will persist in that belief. The longer she does, the more likely she is to seek sterilizing hormone treatments and mutilating surgical interventions.

This is what Moms for Liberty called “grooming” back in 2021. At the time, the media compared this reaction with QAnon accusations of elite pedophile rings. But parental-rights activists pointed out that the description fit the stated position of major educational organizations. The National Education Association, for example, had passed a resolution declaring that teachers could influence children’s gender identity and ought to have total legal freedom to do so. And the organization behind the CDC-endorsed National Sex Education Standards is named SEICUS: Sex Ed for Social Change. If influencing children’s gender and sexuality to advance a social agenda isn’t grooming, what is it? Last weekend, Bill Maher offered liberals another term for this practice: entrapment.

Whether you call it entrapment or grooming, the Biden administration is now requiring all American public schools to affirm that children can be born in the wrong body. How exactly will that work?

For starters: a boy who says he’s a girl must be granted access to the girls’ bathroom or locker room. Because the Biden administration requires no documentation to affirm gender identity, and indeed because it refused to define gender identity at all, a boy could identify as a girl “fluidly.” The federal government protects his right to be a girl only when he enters a girls’ bathroom.

In addition, teachers and students must refer to a gender dysphoric child by her preferred pronouns and alternative name. The Biden regulation magnanimously allows that a “stray” “misgendering” doesn’t automatically violate Title IX. But by logic—and by the administration’s own past enforcement practice—if several people “misgender” a student, or if someone “misgenders” a student several times, then the school risks losing all federal funding if it doesn’t remedy the situation.

The policy of secretly socially transitioning students will spread even further. Currently, more than 10 million students attend schools that will socially transition them without their parents’ knowledge or consent. The regulation says that Title IX doesn’t strictly require that transitioning be concealed from parents. But it does say that in the event of a conflict between Title IX and the Family Education Rights and Privacy Act, Title IX overrides. If a child says she doesn’t want her parents to know, the Biden administration insists that the school will be totally compliant with federal law by keeping it secret.

This regulation will essentially help facilitate the sterilization of gay and autistic children in blue states on a scale that nineteenth-century eugenicists could only have imagined. Parents in red states that have outlawed these experimental medical interventions can’t necessarily rest easily, however. California has passed a law that would effectively strip parents of their custodial rights if their child travels there to access puberty blockers or cross-sex hormones. And any parent who enrolls a child in a U.S. public school is now sending them to an institution required to operate on the premise of a fundamental falsehood.

Republican politicians have been conspicuously quiet about the new Title IX regulation. Perhaps because they’re uncomfortable stating flatly that gender ideology is false, congressional Republicans are not actively fighting the new Title IX mandate on gender-affirming schooling. They would prefer to battle the Biden administration on its plan to use Title IX to mandate that men can participate in women’s sports, but the administration has denied them that debate until after the election, relegating the sports issue to a separate regulation that it waited nine additional months to propose. 

The fight over the new gender standards for schools will instead play out in the courts. In the weeks to come, state attorneys general will file suit. The regulation will almost certainly be enjoined, and then eventually overturned by the Supreme Court. But not before transitioning the default social setting of American public schools to embrace gender ideology.

In the interim, parents should ask school board members whether they plan to comply with Biden’s Title IX regulation. If the answer is yes, then traditionalist parents should look into transitioning their children—to private schools. Parents should also ask Republican state lawmakers if they support universal school choice. If the answer is no, then parents will know that these lawmakers essentially endorse teaching students that gender ideology is true.

[constantlymisspelled]

2 - Honourable Conduct (The pointy end of Jaster's Codex)

[Text in image is as below]

i) Honour in Self;

a) An honourable Mando’ade treats themselves and their body with respect. b) An honourable Mando’ade is a contributing member of their clan and society. c) An honourable Mando’ade does not isolate themselves without due cause. d) An honourable Mando’ade knows when to accept advice and assistance.

ii) Honour in the Community;

a) An honourable member of the Community will not seek active harm to the Community. b) An honourable member of the Community does not conduct combat training in Communal Areas. c) An honourable member of the Community will stand up for injustices within or with out of the Community. d) An honourable member of the Community contributes to Mandalore and its wellbeing as a whole, but not at risk of their kin.

[Text in image is as below]

iii) Honour in the Galaxy;

a) An honourable Mando’ade will treat those they meet with respect, regardless of their heritage. b) An honourable Mando’ade will abide by the law they find themselves within, unless it comes at the harm of others, or children. c) An honourable Mando’ade will act as an honourable Mando’ade with or without other Mandalorians to bear witness to their actions.

iv) Honour Amongst Clan;

a) An honourable member of the Clan treats their Goran with respect. b) An honourable member of the Clan contributes to the care of the Clan’s Foundlings. c) An honourable member of the Clan will make their opinion heard upon matters of importance. d) An honourable member of the Clan will treat their Clan members with respect, and come to their aide when necessary and within reason. e) An honourable member of the Clan makes the individual choice of doing the right thing by their Alor, by their Clan, by the Clan’s Foundlings, and by the Goran upon their own honourable nature. f) An honourable member of the Clan will come when the Alor calls – within reason.

v) Honour in Partnership;

a) An honourable Mando’ade does not hurt, hit, or harass their partner. b) An honourable Mando’ade will take ‘no’ as an acceptable answer, or face the consequences under Mandalorian Law. c) An honourable Mando’ade is not entitled to the affection of their riduur – if it must be earned, it must be earned. d) An honourable Mando’ade does not abuse their riduur’s connection with their Clan, or cut them off from kin or children. e) An honourable Mando’ade is parent to their spouses’ children, regardless of their heritage.

[Text in image is as below]

vi) Honour in Leadership;

a) A leader must act in the best interests of even those who have actively voted against them. All people are your people, regardless of their political standing, for they are Mandalorians first and foremost. b) A leader must work for the betterment of their Clan and their people, not themselves. A selfish leader lacks any honour, regardless of the glory they claim to seek or possess.

vii) Honour in Combat;

a) An honourable warrior does not attack, harass, or seek pleasure in torturing an unarmed non-combatant. b) An honourable warrior does not use children as hostages or bait in any form of combat, military action, or act in life. c) An honourable warrior does not participate in the capture and slave trade of sentients. Nor does an honourable warrior take jobs related to the capture and trade of sentients. d) An honourable warrior does not abandon their comrades on a battlefield. e) An honourable warrior does not withhold medical treatment from a civilian or non-combatant. f) An honourable warrior does not poison water or food supplies for peoples or villages, regardless of if they are non-combatant or hostile.

[Any additions and/or criticism is welcome. I have yet to reach the section that more specifically deals with combat excellence and behaviors but if you have any ideas for what I've missed, let me know.]

[Back to main Codex]

[lesbianpolar]

I see so many people wondering why adults don't just get an autism diagnosis when they suspect that they are autistic. Let me share my experience with seeking an autism diagnosis thus far, and maybe you can begin to understand why an official diagnosis is FAR more difficult to get than people assume it should be:

- First, I went to my PCP to get a referral. He agreed that it was likely I have autism and ADHD and should be assessed.

- I then went on to my insurance provider's website to find someone who was capable of diagnosing autism. You can't just get diagnosed by any psychological specialist or therapist. Most doctors qualified to diagnose autism only work with children. Many psychologists will say that they can help to TREAT autism in adults, but they will not diagnose the condition.

- Out of all of the results, only two would diagnose autism in adults, and only one didn't exclusively practice ABA (I have zero interest in ABA therapy and don't feel like I can trust an ABA practitioner). This psychologist was over an hour away. I have good insurance from a large insurance company. I live in a major metropolitan area with one of the largest populations in the US, and this was all I could find.

- I made an appointment with the psychologist and went through pages of paperwork documenting my social and medical history. This process took hours to complete. The soonest they could get me in was in 3 months.

- Without insurance coverage, the assessment would cost $4,000 for autism, and an additional $2,000 for ADHD assessment. Many insurance providers do not consider assessments (only treatment) to be necessary and will not cover them at all. I was told my insurance would cover at least some of the cost, but was told me to figure out with my insurance provider how much I would owe on my own prior to my appointment.

- Less than a month before my appointment, they called to tell me that insurance would not approve the doctor that they had assigned me to (they were a new doctor who had never worked with my insurance before. They already had doctors in the office who do work with my insurance and chose to pass me off to someone who MIGHT be able to take my insurance), and getting an appeal would be a lengthy and difficult process. Rather than go through that, they told me they would refer me out... to a psychologist who was even farther away and only diagnosed children

- The only other psychologist who does autism assessments in adults within three hours of my home, and solely practices ABA, is not accepting new patients.

These are only some of the barriers that face adults seeking an autism diagnosis. I agree that we definitely need a better system for diagnosing the many adults who slipped through the cracks, but we have GOT to stop being so shitty to adults who suspect autism but do not have an official diagnosis in the meantime.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Matthew | Nightingale | Romantic

Requested: Yes

Matthew is convinced that you have the voice of an angel. Little does he know, the serenade you sing is directed at him as a means to indirectly express your attraction towards him.

When you joined the ragtag group of Jesus’ following, spirits were lifted altogether due to your particular talents. Long before you met them, you had been the most sought-after singer in the busiest inn of Jotapata. Your songs could bring any grown person to tears, people coming from far and wide just to catch a few moments of your angelic sound. 

Then, there was the accident, which left you unable to speak for months on end. No physician had been able to help you regain your voice, for the damage to your vocal cords was way too severe to be healed by any treatment under the sun. Desperate, you had been nothing but eager to seek out this Miracle-worker you had been hearing about in the streets. 

When you found Him and His Disciples one day on the outskirts of town, He had touched your throat and healed you in an instant. The act had flipped your life upside down – not physically, but also spiritually – so when Jesus asked you if you wanted to join Him, you didn’t hesitate one second, left behind your high-paying job in the tavern and followed Him. The rest is history.

The Disciples are happy with the addition of you to their team, for it is your positive attitude and fun ways to pass the time that make their travels a little less taxing. Most of them enjoy the songs you teach them whilst on the road, where you will sing a line and they’ll repeat it. You share wonderful stories on music you have learnt from people all over the world, and even though these tales are somewhat exaggerated and often crafted to appear more interesting than they really are, they are entertaining nevertheless. 

And every evening, if the weather allows it, you’ll sit at the campfire. Warm and comfortable, the Disciples will drift off whilst you sing lullabies and other gentle songs about Adonai, adapted Songs of Solomon and Psalms, and your own works you had written about what you had picked up in the prophecies. Songs about the coming Messiah, as foretold in the Books.

There is one person in particular who is very fond of your songs. It is hard to miss Matthew, for he’s a colourful person, and even though he’s socially awkward every now and then, you can tell that he is trying his very best to intermingle with the others. His brutal honesty is something you greatly appreciate, admiring the fact that he doesn’t sugarcoat anything, and it is safe to say that you have taken a liking towards him in the time you’ve been here. 

Although he sometimes tends to stare at you whilst you hum to yourself or sing your songs, you are honestly flattered by the attention. He isn’t the type of person to maintain eye-contact for a long time, but when it comes to you, it almost comes naturally to him. 

He adores the sound of your voice. There is something utterly enchanting about it, so captivating that he cannot keep himself from getting reeled in and listening from the start till the end, in awe of the sounds that drift from you. It moves him deeply, the words strung together so beautifully on a melody that he had never even known could come from another human being, and it makes his stomach pleasantly tingle whenever you gather the others to teach them a song. 

You often feel brave enough to slip in little flirty comments here and there whilst singing, and even though these sometimes go over his head, when they don’t, he feels inexplicably fuzzy on the inside.

It’s your smile that gets him every time. Whenever you cross eyes with him and your lips quirk upwards, his heart just flutters inside his chest and his gut swirls with feelings he had never even dared to give in to. He can’t really put the words to it yet, but he finds your face utterly charming and your (h/c) locks to be perfectly framing your face, and the way your (e/c) eyes observe him from afar could make him melt into a puddle.

Tonight, you had been blessed with a good warm stew, and this in turn had made most people understandably drowsy after dinnertime. Most had gone to bed and the group around the fire has thinned out significantly by the time the moon is out, brightly casting its light over camp. Stars litter the sky and set an unhurried, comfortable ambiance. 

Philip, Nathanael, Matthew and you are sitting around the fire – the former publicanus next to you and the other two across from you – staring at the flames as the business of the day falls off your shoulders. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear one of the brothers of Thunder snoring loudly already and Andrew and Simon Peter are having a disagreement in their tent about who is going to sleep in what spot. Philip has just concluded a long story on what had caught his interest in the prophecies of Isaiah, and you are just digesting his words when Nathanael clears his throat. 

“Hey, (Y/n),” he says, “Why don’t you sing a song for us?” 

You shiver involuntarily at a sudden gust of cold air and nod, rubbing your palms together before holding them in front of the fire. “Of course,” you breathe, “Sure thing. Okay, let’s see, what are we in the mood for tonight? Philip?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t mind. I feel like I’ve dominated tonight’s conversation quite enough with my ramblings about Scripture.”

You hum. “Right. Matthew, what kind of music would you like to hear?”

The former tax-collector’s eyes widen as you mention his name and he gulps, blinking rapidly as he tries to come up with something. You kindly smile, a sight that makes his heart skip a beat. 

“I–Ah… I don’t know.”

Smiling, you lower your gaze back to the fire. “That’s okay. Hm, how about I’ll sing you a song about… Romance? It’s not based on Scripture or anything. Just something I wrote when I was in love a few years ago.” Something jealous shunts through Matthew although he isn’t sure of why he is feeling such a sentiment. “It was a great hit with the patrons at the inn, so it might be applicable to many people. After all, I’ve left it quite ambiguous who it could be directed to. Who knows,” you whisper with a smile, slightly tilting your head as your gaze flickers back up to Matthew, “I might take a particularly handsome man in mind whilst singing it tonight.”

His breath hitches and he has to resist the urge to shrink in his spot, folding his hands in his lap as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. The two other men at the fire look at one another in anticipation and smile, as if they’re both convinced that the words you’re going to sing will be about them, although you fully intend on directing them towards Matthew tonight. 

For a second, you clear your throat and try to find your pitch by singing a few random notes, until you find one to start on, and you start singing your song.

“The world seemed to stand still when I saw you. It seemed as if a star had fallen upon the Earth. And you were the angel that had caught it and stored it in the darkness of your beautiful eyes.” You softly sway from side to side with closed eyes whilst the three men around the fire observe you closely. 

“You, my love, are like honey, sweeter than you, there is no other man. With your hair dark as night, and your love, soft and light, I will never think of another again. Being without you hurts me so, oh my dearest, I will not let you go.”

Matthew is gawking at you, trying his best not to stare at the way the words fall from your lips, but Philip breaks the air with the sound of his own voice. “That was short but sweet, (Y/n), thank you for that!”

“That was very nice,” Nathanael adds, “I wonder who it was meant for!” 

“I’m not telling.” you quip, locking eyes with Matthew whilst grinning, and he swallows thickly at your wink. “Someone who I think is very handsome, that’s for sure.”

Philip hums and raises his eyebrows, letting his eyes go from you to the former tax-collector, and then clears his throat. “Right. On that note, I think I’ll call it a day.” He pats Nathanael on the shoulder roughly, “You, too, right?” 

Nathanael frowns, slightly shaking his head in confusion, but Philip gives him an earnest look: “Right?”

“O-Of course,” Nathanael stutters, still unsure of what is going on but familiar with the stare Philip is giving him. He stands and turns to you and Matthew, smiling. “Good night, (Y/n) and Matthew.” 

“Have a good rest you two.”

Philip and Matthew also say their greetings before you are left alone with the person you had secretly directed your song towards. He is someone who doesn’t necessarily see his own worth, which is both heartbreaking and admirable at the same time. 

You shiver a bit, the fire providing warmth yet not enough to keep you from hugging your veil a bit tighter around your head, and Matthew gives you a curious look. 

“I don’t say it often, but I really like your voice.” 

A blush tinges your cheeks. Had he just complimented you?

“Why, thank you.” you reply, “That’s very kind of you. You know what,” you feel a sudden wave of confidence hit you. “Let me sing a song just for you.”

His eyes flutter to meet yours. “I… That’s nice of you, (Y/n), but I don’t know if…” with a voice that trails off, he can’t fight the deep red on his face. 

“I’d gladly do it,” you say, “After all, I’m way better at expressing my feelings about people when singing about them than when I use my speaking voice.” 

You clear your throat again and try to decide on a melody, and you momentarily look at the stars in an attempt to find your first sentence, hoping it’ll come to you. It soon does, and you inhale deeply before starting your impromptu serenade. 

“Open your eyes, see what I see. Take my hand and don’t let go, feel my love. What others see is outshined by brilliance and honesty, your uniqueness is what makes you beautiful. Know that you can always lean on me, I will be here for you, no matter what. And maybe, maybe, you’ll be mine one day.”

Matthew is dumbfounded, trying to process all the words you’ve just sung to him, and you softly smile at him, conveying your sincerity this way, for you know he is not keen on any kind of physical contact unless he would be the one initiating it. He stares at you for a long moment, and your expression slightly falls. 

“Did I… Did I cross a boundary with that? I’m sorry if I did. If you want me to stop, all you need to do is ask, for I didn’t mean to make you feel—”

“It’s okay.” he quickly says. “I… I don’t mind it. I like it, actually.” He averts his gaze to his lap and lets out a shy huff, “The things you sing to me, they make me feel funny on the inside.” 

He stares at his fiddling hands and you rest your palm on the log, right next to him, where he can see it. “If it makes you uncomfortable, please tell me. Okay? If it ever does in the future, please do. The last thing I want is to overstep your boundaries.”

Thinking for a few moments, Matthew considers your words. “I-I will tell you if it causes me distress,” he says. “But right now, I do not mind.”

You grin. “Good,” you breathe, “I’m glad to hear that, Matthew. I mean the words I sing. I think you’re a marvellous man, and I am very happy that I’ve met you.”

Timidly, Matthew smiles and scoots a little closer. “W-Why, thank you, (Y/n). I think you’re very pleasant company, too.”

A brief silence falls between you, one that is far from awkward, and you break it with a deep sigh. “Let’s sit for a little while longer, okay?” you propose, “We should go to bed soon, but I want to enjoy this moment just for a few minutes.”

Matthew agrees to this. 

Staring at the fire as it slowly starts to shrink, you hum a final song in the night, gentle, an improvised melody that befits the unhurried mood. 

Pressure against your shoulder causes you to momentarily pause, but when you realise that Matthew is resting his temple against your arm, his eyes closed as he is lulled into a light drowsy state, you can’t fight the smile. You feel comfortable enough to start playing with his hair gently, letting your fingers card through it as you continue your song, humming smoothly lest you wake the others, until he finally wakes again.

[eraserisms]

Shota + Middle Child Syndrome/Traits

While a lot of people who give Shota a family they headcanon him as the oldest child. I write Shota as being the oldest son, however Shota is still the middle child for a few reasons.

Easygoing

Shota doesn't really seem to care about much of anything. Almost always we see him, relaxed and casual, whether its him relaxing in his sleeping bag or slouching somewhere. Or even when he is just displaying general apathy. He is laid back and doesn't seem to get too worked up about chaotic situations, his classroom alone is a testament to that.

Competitiveness

For someone who is so aloof, Shota is pretty competitive. Shota might not care about a lot of things but when he does care, he is in it to win it. We briefly see this competitive behavior during the sports festival when Hizashi teases Shota and says “Isn’t it difficult to stand out in the sports festival when you don’t have flashy powers.” and we see that Shota becomes visibly annoyed. Shota cares more about doing well than what he vocalizes. It's also probably why he understands Bakugo's motivations intimately.

Mediator/Peacemaker & Fairness/Balance

Shota plays the role of arbitrator in all aspects of his life. He grew up as a mediator for his siblings, even if he was on his sister's side a majority of the time. Shota taking on the job of being a homeroom teacher inherently puts him in a is a mediator position. We see him intervene when Midoriya and Bakugo get into a fight and a handful of other times we see Shota settling other disputes. One of the first things that Shota says to his students is that life is full of unfairness. He also goes on to say that a hero's job is to combat that unfairness and that thought process goes beyond his pro-hero status. Yes, it would be irrational to think that life is fair, but that doesn't mean that Shota doesn't seek some sort of balance, even in his personal life. The world is unfair but it's up to him to change that.

Independence

Shota is fiercely independent and always has been since he was a child. Shota was the one who was always eager to go to the convenience store by himself whenever Mio wasn't around to do the task. A lot of the time, Shota and her would go together if they were both home, but Shota relished the moments when he had solo journeys. Shota is so independent that his parents didn't really see how badly Oboro's death had affected him. Shota's parents are at the end of the day, really good parents for the most part, but that doesn't mean that they are flawless. They had done all the right things that someone would need after experiencing something so traumatic. They put him into therapy. They looked into other psychiatric treatments like anti-depressants. They checked in on him here and there. But they didn't check on him as much as they should have. This leads me to Shota's last middle child trait, but and most well known/common trait.

The Forgotten

As I said, Shota's parents didn't realize how deep the PTSD and trauma of losing Shirakumo went. This however, wasn't entirely their fault. Shota often reassured them that he was okay when he really wasn't. As independent as Shota was, his parents were a little inclined to believe that Shota was doing better than what he was. In reality, Shota was doing a lot of reckless behavior like drinking and sleeping around as a means to try to distract himself and numb his pain. Upon realizing that Shota wasn't doing as well as they thought, they were plagued with guilt for not having pushed him more about it. In addition to Shota being dishonest about his recovery, during this time in the Aizawa household there was a lot of chaos going on with his siblings that served as a distraction from Shota. His older sister got pregnant with the child of an older boy who had no interest in helping her. And his younger brother, Akio still had occasional dips in his physical health. Childhood traumas aside, Shota often is quiet, in the corner or in the back of a room. He is usually forgotten by people around him, just his family, and he prefers it that way. He likes being able to slip into the shadows unnoticed. It works out especially given his career path because Shota is often over-looked and underestimated and ignored.

[fantasyinvader]

The three flames, I believe, reveal what the fuck is the problem with Houses’ writing. Especially if we combine it with words from the devs.

The game was built around Silver Snow’s story and the idea that we would have to fight our former student. Worldbuilding was done specifically to support this story, the Black Eagles are where the cursor sits by default in addition to adorning the loading pages, and we have to unlock the option to side with Edelgard. The game wants us to gain an attachment to her so the reveal that she’s the bad guy, that underneath the cute girl exterior was a red emperor seeking conquest, hits harder and makes it harder for us to fight her. Even all the Edelgard fanservice works towards this goal, as the poison of attachment does include sensual matters.

The game wants us to know she tried to manipulate us (Edge of Dawn), that her path leads to hadou with all it’s negative implications, that she’s a tyrant with a god complex that needs to be stopped for the good of Fodlan, that she’s a toxic person to be around… all of that. In a franchise that talks a good deal about the bonds between characters, we are meant to put our bond with her aside for the good of Fodlan.

But the game doesn’t want us to hate her. Hatred/aversion, after all, is a separate poison. The game wants us to not be ignorant of who and what Edelgard actually is, for us to break up with her as a result, but for us to feel bad about it as well the whole way. So we’re left with Byleth going on about “can’t we find a way to work things out with Edelgard” when she’s done some horrifying shit. Stuff you can’t walk back.

The writing defeats itself. People either get pissed at how wishy-washy Edelgard’s treatment is, or they think that because the game is telling you to be sad fighting her that must mean they did something wrong. And since this is what the entire game was built upon, it drags everything down with it.

This is why Engage has better writing than Houses.