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Discussion Prompt 037: I'm aroace, and I feel like the aro & ace parts of my identity are inextricably intertwined. I arrived at asexuality first, and because of that I identify myself as ace or aroace more often than just aro. But when I call myself ace, I sort of feel like I'm also calling myself aro, because they're so connected for me. I've found that which one I prioritize depends on what external pressure I'm feeling most keenly at the moment - sexuality or romance.
Shout out to the random con-man on The Dragon Prince for being such a dead-wringer for how I envision my bard/bloodhunter that I am considering this actual official art for my character.
Sorry to hear that you're night is sad/tiring. :( If you're looking for distractions, my birthday was this week, so you could do a super short ficlet about a birthday party? :)
“What are the odds she’ll murder us for this?”
Clint rubbed his back of his neck, his head hanging forward. “Pretty good?”
“What’s-” Bruce glanced at him. “What’re we considering ‘pretty good?’ Is that- Good for us or bad for us?”
“Probably bad for us,” Clint admitted. “In that the odds are pretty good that she will, in fact, murder us for this.”
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “So...” His face twisted as he struggled to find the right words. He apparently failed at that, because he finally just said, “Why?”
”Why, what?” Clint asked.
“Why are we doing this?”
“Because she might murder us for doing it, but she’ll definitely murder us if we don’t,” Clint told him. He braced a hand on the kitchen counter. “So the odds are slightly better for us if we do it than they are if we don’t.”
Bruce stared at him. Clint tried for a reassuring smile. It wasn’t his best expression, but he liked to think effort counted for something. Bruce pressed both hands to his face. “Fine,” he said, the words muffled by his palms. “Fine.” He dropped his hands. “Then, why am I here?”
“Solidarity?” Clint guessed.
“No,” Bruce said.
“Fine, you’re here so that if the op goes sideways, the other guy can do the actual delivery,” Clint said. Bruce glared at him. “No?”
“No,” Bruce repeated.
“Okay, fine, it’s because she’s less likely to murder me if I surround myself with people she likes,” Clint admitted. Bruce stared at him, and Clint held out a tube of frosting. “And your handwriting’s better than mine?”
Bruce took it with an audible sigh. “Why do I let you talk me into these things?” he asked, popping the cap with the flick of his thumb.
“Dunno,” Clint said, cheerful about it. “You’re supposed to be pretty smart, but I’m not seeing it.”
Bruce’s lips twitched as he leaned over the cake. “Thanks. That’s... Thanks.”
Clint leaned over his shoulder. “Go with ‘Looking Good For an Old Lady,’” he said.
“I think I’ll work the odds and stick with a simple ‘Happy Birthday,’“ Bruce said.
“Coward.”
For Discussion Prompt 009: Other people's relationships are sometimes weird for me. I literally cannot imagine experiencing romantic feelings, so sometimes I have a hard time connecting to other people's actions/experiences. For a long time that disconnect made me feel isolated and excluded (tbh it still does a bit)... (1/2)
(2/2) ...but one day I decided to respond to that feeling by searching the aro tag on Tumblr and turning my focus away from the connection I lack and onto the community that I'm a part of. I think that was the point when I started to really embrace the aromantic side of identity, and it has been a really fulfilling and validating way to respond to those negative emotions.
DnD Quotes of the Night
Poltak the goliath fighter: Ok, you know what! That’s like a pot calling... a pot................ a... pot. ---
Igor the monk: That cocaine thing was a bad idea. ---
Poltak: Not matter what happens... I’m gonna throw Igor out a window. ---
Poltak (ooc): What are they bonding over?
Corellon the high-elf ranger: The fact that I have no place to sleep. ---
Ashley the alcoholic cleric (ooc): Ashley takes a drink.
Astraea the rogue, horrified (ooc): While on FIRE. ---
Mountbatten the bard, after giving two fallen soldiers a viking funeral, floating their small boats down the river: MY GONDOLANCES.
For the Halloween ask: 1, 6, & 42
Sorry for the delay. I passed out last night!
1. What is the weirdest thing you own
Charles Sumner’s death Civil Rights coin? Yeah, Charles Sumner’s death Civil Rights coin.
6. Least favorite thing about Halloween
That I don’t get to trick or treat anymore, tbh.
42. What is your favorite thing about Halloween
EVERYTHING.
A Mirrodell Musical (to the tune of Prologue from Great Comet)
The Order is causing chaos here, and Dren is in a maze. The Order is causing a lot of fear, and Dren is in a maze.
The Order is causing chaos here, and Dren is in a maze. The Order is causing a lot of fear, and Dren is in a maze....
We’re playing Dungeons and Dragons, and shit is getting crazy. This song is here to serve a role, and help us keep with the plot Cuz it’s a complicated campaign story, and the party is getting quite large. So please continue reading. We’d appreciate it, thanks a lot!
Theren!
Theren is sweet. He wants to study magic and hone his art. (He wants to study magic and hone is art.)
Theren is sweet and Dren is in a maze.
Poltak is brave. He'll charge into battle and win us the fight! (He’ll charge into battle and win us the fight!)
Poltak is brave, Theren is sweet, and Dren is in a maze.
Igor is old-school, a monk on a mission. He's a bit of a badass- strict yet kind. (A bit of a badass- strict yet kind.)
Igor is old-school, Poltak is brave, Theren is sweet, and Dren is in a maze.
Charlemagne!!!!!
Charlemagne's a slut. He spends his money on sex and on wine! (Spends his money on sex and on wine.)
Charlemagne’s a slut, Igor is old-school, Poltak is brave, Theren is sweet, and Dren is in a maze.
Ashley is a drunk. A bit of an ass with a really good heart. (A bit of an ass with a really good heart.)
Ashley is a drunk. Charlemagne’s a slut. Igor is old-school, Poltak is brave, Theren is sweet, and Dren is in a maze.
Astraea is fierce, and extremely sneaky. Charlemagne's friend, and a crazy good shot. (Charlemagne’s friend, and a crazy good shot.)
Astraea is fierce, Ashley is a drunk, Charlemagne's a slut, Igor is old-school, Poltak is brave, Theren is sweet, and Dren is in a maze.
Barrels of ale and crack cocaine, the Order can’t touch us here!
Even more characters!!!!
Nels-or-Elsa is a bird- she can fly high.
And Galbacha’s just for fun! (Galbacha’s just for fun!)
Galbacha is fun, Nels is a bird, Astraea is fierce, Ashley is a drunk, Charlemagne's a slut, Igor is old-school, Poltak is brave, Theren is sweet, and Dren is in a maze.
And what about Corellon? A dear, bewildered and awkward high elf? What about Corellon? A rich, and snobby, and tragic high elf? What about Corellon....
“You knocked on my door at 1 in the morning, to cuddle?” - Mountbatten & Ashley
Mountbatten huffed, tossing and turning and trying his best to get comfortable. He appreciated having his own room again. It was nice to spend the hour or so before he turned in taking a luxurious bath without Poltak interrupting it, or to play a song or two on his pipes without someone in the party threatening to strangle him. Having a room to himself to get ready for bed was a dream.
Actually falling asleep all alone was a nightmare.
He missed Ashley. He hated that he missed Ashley. And he knew, if the truth ever came out, he very well may never hear the end of it. He had to get used to sleeping alone again, no matter how good that damned elf was at making him feel safe and warm when his bad dreams came back to haunt him.
He checked his time piece, groaning when it was only midnight. This was starting to get ridiculous now. For the next hour, he tried to will himself to sleep, but nothing, not even a large shot of some potent liqueur, seemed to help him drift off. Accepting defeat, he got out of bed and walked out of his room, dragging himself slowly down the hallway to Ashley’s quarters.
Taking a deep breath, he knocked quickly, immediately hoping Ashley didn’t hear so he could run back to his rooms and pretend nothing ever happened. Unfortunately, Mountbatten could tell that Ashley heard him, if the loud groaning and sound of a bottle crashing to the floor was any indication.
A moment later, the door creaked open, and Ashley glared up at him with bleary eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing. Nothing, really. Just wanted to see... well...”
Ashley just stared, giving him a look somewhere between annoyed and murderous, though Mountbatten knew that was just how Ashley’s face worked most of the time. “What, Mountbatten? What?”
Mountbatten sighed. “I can’t sleep. It doesn’t feel right in there.”
“Do you think you’re being watched?” Ashley yawned, trying to become more alert.
“Nooooo, not quite that. I just.... haven’t gotten used to having my own room again.” He shrugged, trying to play it casual. “
Ashley put the pieces together quickly all the same, and chuckled. “You knocked on my door at 1 in the morning, to cuddle?”
Mountbatten buried his face in his hand, rubbing his temples gently. “If you wish to put it so bluntly, yes. I wanted to fucking cuddle.”
Ashley just laughed some more, stepping aside and making his way back to his bed. “Get in here. Next time, just tell me before I fall asleep. Or get a damn key made. Doesn’t matter to me either way.”
Closing the door behind him quickly, Mountbatten jumped into bed, immediately curling himself around the elf and burying his face in his neck. Before they both drifted off, Mountbatten placed a gentle kiss on his neck, and mumbled a reverent “thank you” to go with it. Ashley could care less, about the kiss or the cuddling, but even so, he pulled the bard closer, drifting off into his best sleep in months.
