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qprstobin · 10 months

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Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

#stobin #platonic stobin #st fic rec #mini fic #steve #robin #my writing #writing tag #this was got out of hand #all of the stuff about prom is pulled loosely from my own experiences with prom #both from it being seniors only (juniors at my school had their own dance) to what people did after prom #(i went to two proms and one group went and saw a bad horror movie after prom and i went to a diner with the other group)#also this is barely editted so there is some weird tense switches in here im sorry!#this wasnt meant to be an actual fic i had just meant to throw out the idea of steve asking robin to his prom #and steves voice got away from me quick #this was inspired by the fic i reblogged earlier today about steve taking robin to her prom

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foundfamilyhq · 10 months

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Welcome + Rules

Welcome to the Tumblr Found Family HQ! Here, we present your blorbos to the masses to have them vote upon whether they should be added to the collective tumblr found family or not. Submit your blorbos here:

See which blorbos have already joined the found family HERE! To avoid seeing the results posts, mute "ff results" The rules are: 1. Play nice; be respectful to others 2. Blorbos can be of any age, since a found family can be just that. So feel free to submit a one-day old infant or a ten thousand year old tree, if those are your blorbos 3. No Harry Potter (or other titles associated to this series or the author) 4. No real people (might make an exception if it's funny) 5. "No real people" includes no individual tumblr users, youtubers or streamers (this might seem obvious, but there were still a lot of them submitted) 6. No OCs. All your OCs are great and I'd feel sad if they got rejected from the found family F.A.Q. under readmore:

(No one has actually asked any questions, but these are the ones I'm anticipating) Some of these questions have been asked now lol Q. How does this work? A. A post featuring a blorbo shall be made, stating who they are and their source material. A poll will be attached set to one week, asking if the blorbo shoulf join the tumblr found family. At the end of the week, based on the result, I will announce if they blorbo has joined or not Q. What is a found family? A. A found family is a family you find for yourself. It is a term often used in fandom to describe a group of characters who aren't related by blood (although a few members might be) but have come to think of each other as a family through circumstance. Alternatively, they might not be officially recognised as a found family in canon, but wider fanon regards them as such Q. Is this a tournament bracket? A. Nope, blorbos aren't competing against each other, they're only here to be judged by you. We are here enternally submitting blorbos (at least until I run out of steam or pass away lol) Q. I'm not sure if my blorbo counts because of ___ reason? A. If it's not any of the reasons mentioned in the rules, then feel free to send an ask. Or just submit them anyway and I'll decide Q. I submitted a blorbo and they haven't been posted. Did you get them? A. Again, feel free to send an ask. I don't have a regular schedule for posting these. Somedays there'll be batches of polls, others there'll be one or none Q. My blorbos are a duo/trio/etc., who cannot be separated. Can I submit them as a group? A. While I would prefer to stick to individual characters, if you have some who absolutely cannot be separated, I might make exceptions. Most likely, I'll make a poll asking if they should be judged as a group or individually, since there's a lot of media I won't be familiar with Q. My blorbo got ditched on the roadside! Fuck you! A. Friend, as a fan of Theseus from Hades Game, I understand what it's like to have your fave hated by fandom. Anything decided on this blog can never affect your personal headcanons, so go in peace with your middle finger held high Q. What are your icon and header? A. The icon is of the Pokemon Bouffalant and Natu, based on a series of trading card art where Bouffalant finds two Natu and rescues them - the true spirit of found family. The header is a group of characters called the Black Ravens from the Professor Layton series - a group of ragtag working-class kids who make a black market together Q. I wrote some propaganda on the submission form, can you post it or send it back to me? A. Submissions are deleted as the polls are posted, so I can keep track of how many I have left to post, which means I can't do this. Please save your propaganda for the post and not the submissions form Q. Did you know you used fan art on ___ poll? A. Unless I'd mentioned getting permission from the artist, then please assume that I did not know and let me know. I hate art theft and wouldn't want to partake in that, but I'm just not familiar with a good 80% of the series submitted, so sometimes it might slip through the cracks Q. Can I submit a character who isn't my blorbo? A. Also fine! I enjoy it when people submit controversial characters to see how they'll do Q. What happens if there's a tie? A. The blorbo in question becomes an occassional family member who appears with our found family for some important cutscenes, but isn't officially considered part of the found family

Q. No, but seriously, my blorbo got ditched. Do they get another chance? A. At the beginning of each year we host a Redemption Event, where any past blorbos who were submitted get another chance. Because of the high volume of ditched characters, to be included in the event, your character will need to be submitted with propaganda via a form that will be released about a month before the event Q. I think the image used is a big reason why my blorbo got ditched. Why did you use that image? A. If an image hasn't been submitted, I will just grab one from an image search result in most cases. You know your blorbos best, so if you have a specific (non-fan art) image that you think shows them in their best light, please do submit it when you submit them Q. Did you mean the book version or movie version of that character? A. Whichever version of the blorbo that gets submitted, that'll be the one I use. If no specific version is mentioned, I'll just post that blorbo in general and use whatever image is most common when I look them up, unless an image has been submitted or a book cover has been requested to be used Q. My blorbo is a character played by a youtuber and/or streamer, not the youtuber or streamer themselves, is that okay? A. If it's a character, then it's fine. But please mention this on the submission. Because if I look them up and the result looks to be just some real person, that won't be included. I am largely unfamiliar with these kind of fandoms and will always err on the side of caution about their inclusion Q. What counts as a "sweep"? A. Any character who gets 90% or higher in either joining or not joining is counted as a sweep. This doesn't give them anything extra, it's just for bragging rights Q. What counts as a "close call"? A. Any character who's poll results are within the 49%-51% range for join/don't join is counted as a close call Q. How many characters can I submit at a time? A. There's no hard rule, since the form doesn't track emails, but please be considerate to others and try not to submit more than 10 characters per submission period. See next question for more details Q. How many characters from the same series can I submit at a time? A. Four (4) characters per series per submission period. I'll be lenient for if they've been submitted by multiple people, but from my experience running this blog, it's only the current Hot New Thing that'll be submitted by multiple people and anything else is usually one person submitting one character after another. I used to allow more, but people took this for granted and submitted 50+ from the same series, so now 4 is the cap Q. You missed a tag from that poll! Can it be added? A. Sure! Tags are either provided by the submitter or where left blank, I'll use my best guess. At minimum, you'll get the name of the character and series as they've been submitted. If you know more, let me know and I'll add them to the post during the voting period. Please note: The polls themselves cannot be edited after being posted, only the tags Q. I don't understand what this blog is A. Don't worry about it, friend. Just keep driving and whatever you do, don't wind down the window. We'll be safe soon :) Q. Didn't think blog used to be called the Found Family Adoption Agency? A. It was, but I were made aware that the language used on the blog could be seen as potentially harmful to real life adoptees, so I changed the name of the blog and made some edits to try to avoid using such language. Posts made prior to 5th May 2024 will still contain references to adopt/ditching, so tread with caution on older posts

#tumblr found family #found family #found family hq #pinned post #welcome #rules #FAQ #signal boosts appreciated

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halfdeadfullgay · 4 months

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404 - Title Not Found (Pt 3) WIP

Part 2 - Tumblr

Ao3

Summary: Jason learns just a bit more about the guy who feels familiar while doing laundry.

Danny sees Laundry Guy at the gala and wants to avoid him because it’s not everyday people from Crime Alley go to Wayne galas but amazing Fenton luck strikes.

AN PLEASE READ FIRST: As always this is crack, this is a whole crack fic; and I play fast and loose with DC&DP cannon. Ignore any out of character writing(mainly Vald and Bruce). Also this is a WIP, this is strictly a work in progress and not the final product. I just wanted to post something while working on this fic and other stuff and this won the vote.

Final things before the actual fic:

Kinda/slow Vald redemption aka still an asshole but one you can deal with

Danny - Quarter Guy

Jason - Laundry Guy

———————

Jason immediately knew that the other wasn’t from Gotham. No one just offered anything without an immediate confirmation that they would get something in return. At least that’s how it was in Crime Alley. He and the other held small talk while they were doing their laundry.

“You just offer quarters to people?” He said sarcastically only to have an actual answer in return. “Only the cute people.” The other said with a somewhat joking tone and wink.

“Uh huh. What’s ya name? I didn’t catch it.” Jason wouldn’t directly admit but this guy had peaked his interest even more.

“Well, I didn’t throw it.” The guy answered with a smile that felt sarcastic with just a bit of wanting chaos.

The topic changed to other things. He learned that Quarter Guy had moved to Crime Alley awhile back, he didn’t give a clear reason why; “Just thought it’d be a good change of pace.”

He also learned that Quarter Guy was going to some kind of event with his godfather; saying that even though he agreed to go, he could still complain. And god did he complain but nothing sounded too bad. “He’s just a fruitloop, I wouldn’t doubt him trying to use me to get secrets from the other people.”

Jason didn’t share any too personal information; besides it just being out of sceret identity and such but it would also feel weird to. Jason did complain about how he was more or less forced into agreeing to go to the Wayne gala, only not sharing that it was a gala or that it was a Wayne event.

“Maybe we end up at the same event.” Quarter Guy, who still didn’t tell Jason his name, joked. His laundry had been done before his own. Quarter Guy left with a smile that only made him want to figure out why he felt familiarly even more. Jason was more curious about this guy than before but decided to hold off on figuring out more about it.

—

It was just meant as a joke. Danny really did mean as a joke but just his fucking luck(or honestly he was expecting CW to be the cause in some way), he was now looking at the guy he gave quarters to a day or two pior. He was standing next to the snack table, avoiding Vald so he didn’t have to worry about talking to other rich people he didn’t trust. The snacks didn’t look good in any sense of the word, why did he expect rich people to know what good snacks look and taste like.

He was thinking about texting Sam to complain, knowing that she would say I told you so but he noticed the guy from his apartment building was there. It took a second to recgionze him since he seemed more put together and dressed nicer, but it was him. Danny wouldn’t have questioned it too much if the guy wasn’t standing next to Bruce Wayne but he was. Danny didn’t need to know any more rich people in his life but life(or probably CW) had other plans.

He noticed that the guy hadn’t seemed to see him yet. Danny moved away from the snack table, going opposite from Wayne and the Laundry Guy; mainly focusing on staying hidden but a voice called him. “Daniel!” It wasn’t loud, at least it wasn’t to humans. It had just enough of a hint of ghost speak to have Danny turn to look. Of course when he had his back turned, Vald had to go and speak to Bruce Wayne. The amazing Fenton luck stuck again.“Come over, I’ve hardly seen you since we’ve arrived.”

Danny held back a sigh and eye roll as he went over to Vald and Wayne; which also meant Laundry Guy. He had felt Wayne’s eyes on him as he went over, Laundry Guy hadn’t seemed to notice or frankly care enough to look. He looked at Bruce. He knew of “Brucie” Wayne and had wondered if it was just a persona like when Vald used to pretend to be niceish to his dad. He side eyed Laundry Guy, who didn’t look at him at all.

“You didn’t tell me you had a so-“ Bruce started with a hint of curiosity. Danny was quick to cut him off. “He didn’t because I’m not.” That’s what finally got Laundry Guy’s attention, he looked at Danny for a second and Danny already knew that he recognized him. “Daniel, that was rude.” Vald looked at him before going back to Bruce. “I apologize for him but he is right. He’s my godson.” Vald said, leaving it to Danny to introduce himself.

“Yes, I do apologize for cutting you off like that.” Danny started. He used the tone he would use with some of the ghost nobles. It was a bit forced but relatively kind. He’d hate to admit and never would out loud but he learned it from Vald. “It’s alright, I understand how words hold meaning.” He noticed how it sounded more real(?) than “Brucie” usually did.

He just nodded before continuing, “Okay. I’ll introduce myself before Vald tries to.” Danny made his tone sound just a bit joking. He felt Laundry Guy’s full attention on him. He smiled, a little fake and a little smug. “I’m Danny Fenton and as Vald said, I am his godson.”

#fanfic #crack fic #red hood #jason todd #ghost king danny #danny phantom #dead on main #dp x dc #dpxdc #hot mess fic #fanfic wip #current wip #as always i tried my best #404 - Title Not Found

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birdiewriteslit · 1 year

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“driving me crazy”

eddie roundtree x fem!reader

you and eddie have never gotten along. is it because you hate each other, or is it because you’re both to proud to admit something?

enemies to lovers😏😏 also idk how long this is bc tumblr doesn’t have a word count smh but it is longer than my other stuff

warning: making out at the end (spoiler lol), suggestive

part 2

EDDIE: Y/n, man. That woman is no joke. We hated each other, at least for a while.

Y/N: He was always such an ass to me. Eddie, I mean. I really hated him. (pause) Until I didn’t.

The burning hatred Eddie felt for you started the day you auditioned for the band. Chuck had just left for school, and Eddie wanted to move from rhythm guitar to bass.

Like always, Billy shut down his request and decided to let people audition for the position. In his words, he wanted someone to “earn it.”

Eddie was already irritated from seeing Billy act like the previous performances were better than what he could do, so you can imagine how he felt when one actually was.

The last audition of the day. You strode up the driveway, big sunglasses over your eyes, sporting jeans and a tight tank top, but definitely not a smile.

Eddie just knew. There was no way he was getting that spot. Your playing didn’t even shock him. Of course, it was fantastic. Just great.

After that, it was all cold stares and angry glares. He wanted to make it very clear that he didn’t like you. He made a considerable effort to stay out of your way. He wouldn’t speak to you, look at you, or even think about you. Well, he tried very hard not to.

One night, a few weeks after your admission, you fell into step with him as he walked home after a rehearsal that ran long. He was moderately surprised by this and figured you would go away if he just ignored you.

You didn’t. You pulled out a cigarette and placed it between your lips. “Have a light?” you asked.

He furrowed his brows, trying to figure out what you were doing. After a moment, he nodded, pulled out his lighter, and lit your cigarette.

“Thanks,” you said. “So, is there any reason why you hate being around me?”

He was so taken aback that he stopped walking. “Sorry?”

You looked at him from over your sunglasses. It made him sort of angry that you were wearing them at nine p.m. when it was pitch black.

“You gonna answer the question?”

“Yes, there are many reasons.” Bullshit. There was only one and, honestly, it wasn’t a very solid one.

You said nothing and walked back up to him, removing the cigarette from your mouth and putting it out on his denim jacket, burning the material.

Eddie was more bewildered than mad when you pushed the glasses to the top of your head and smiled at him like you’d just done him a very nice favor. He never noticed your eye color before then, or how it looked in the moonlight.

“By the way, that jacket really reminds me of Billy.”

Okay, now he knew he was mad. He struggled to come up with a comeback and just moved his mouth in a stupid way that made you laugh when you left him standing there.

EDDIE: She knew exactly what she was doing. She’s always been good at that, making me mad on purpose.

Y/N: It was really funny. He doesn’t think so, but I was laughing about that for days.

The two of you continued throwing insults at each other for the months leading up to LA. Eddie’s favorite thing to do was comment on every mistake you made, much to everyone’s dismay.

He was just jealous of your abilities and, deep down, he admired them. You always knew just what to say back to him, adding unnecessary fuel to the fire.

More than once Billy had to yell at you to stop fighting. You both would resort to sending each other hateful looks and crude hand gestures for the rest of practice.

Driving to California was the real hell. Being cooped up in that van with Eddie for that long made you restless.

If it weren’t for Camila holding you back, there would’ve been several times where you launched yourself at him.

It was so nice to have another girl around. Camila was a good mediator for the two of you. You missed that when you went on tour.

Karen also knew how to break up a fight, but sometimes she would let you hash it out for the fun of it. Not like you minded, she probably knew how much fun you had while messing with Eddie.

Soon enough, things went downhill. Camila had the baby, which was good. Julia was such a sweet baby. Billy went to rehab, which was also good, for him and his family, but bad for the band.

The tour was canceled. A lot of money was lost. It was not a very fun time.

You sympathized with Billy. He had been going through a lot, and you understood how hard it was for somebody to recover from that level of drug abuse. Addiction was a gene that seemed to run in your family, with your mother being absent for most of your life and your father having to pick up the pieces.

Billy and Camila were the only people who knew about it. You didn’t think the others needed to know when none of them could relate to your situation.

Eddie didn’t understand. He went on and on about how bad of a guy Billy was. It made you furious the way he implied that Camila should leave him.

The rest of your fights were petty compared to the one you had on the day Billy got out of rehab. Eddie started complaining about Billy’s nerve or something along those lines. You flipped out. You told him he had no idea what he was talking about and stormed out of the room.

That shut him up. He stared blankly at the door you just walked out of and thanked God that it had only been the two of you in the room before.

He was relieved that no one else heard what he said because realized he was being childish. Even though he hated Billy he should still be proud of what he overcame.

He rushed out of the room to find you locked in the bathroom. He knocked once, twice, three times before a sharp, “What?” came from the other side of the door.

“Y/n, come out and let me talk to you.”

He heard your muffled scoff. “You’ve said enough.”

“I want to apologize.”

He couldn’t see it, but your eyebrows rose involuntarily. You undid the lock and opened the door. Your arms were folded over your chest as you nodded at him. “Keep going.”

“I’m sorry I said all that crap about Billy. It’s been a rough time for him. For all of us,” he said, sounding genuine.

This was shocking to you. He had never apologized to you for anything he said, even if it happened to be cruel and borderline disrespectful. He had this vulnerable look on his face that made you feel like you could tell him things.

“I’m not just upset about Billy,” you admitted. “This whole thing just reminds me of my life growing up. You don’t know this about me, but my mom was not the best at, well, being a mom. Unlike Billy, family wasn’t enough to pull her out.”

You weren’t sure what he was going to say. Then, he said nothing and pulled you close to his chest. His arms were around your shoulders, and you hesitated to hug him back.

He smelled of pine, and you couldn’t stop yourself from inhaling his scent. You stayed like that for a few minutes, until you heard the front door open and sprang apart.

Warren and Graham announced their arrival, and Eddie cleared his throat before joining them in the kitchen. Now it was you who stood alone in bewilderment.

EDDIE: This girl that hated me was trusting me with something, and I didn’t even know why. That was the first time I saw her for the woman she was, and not for the competition she used to be. As it turns out, I didn’t really hate that woman.

After that debacle, things were kind of weird between you and Eddie. He would still act like a dick, but in a different way.

Instead of, “Wow, could you be any worse at this?” he would say, “Wow, could you look any hotter right now?” He used the same douchebag tone for each, but his comments became flirtatious as time went on.

You usually had a witty retort to fire back at him, but there were some times that his words left you flustered and unable to think properly.

Karen noticed this first, giving you a questioning look from the other side of the studio. You waved her off and rolled your eyes at the thought of Eddie seriously flirting with you.

Warren and Graham caught on next, teasing him about it whenever they got the chance. He denied all allegations of being into you.

You refused to acknowledge Camila’s allegations either. The dynamic you shared with him now was different, but you kind of liked it. You would never admit it though, wanting to keep up the illusion that you still hated his guts.

Eddie walked into the kitchen and grabbed a muffin from the table you sat at. “Morning, smokeshow.” He smirked as he looked back at you from over his shoulder while crossing the room to the fridge.

“Shut up, Eddie,” you said with a mouth full of cereal. Shamefully, you felt heat climb into your cheeks.

He snickered as he sat down across from you. “Really? That’s all you got?”

You swallowed your food and glared at him. “Give me a break. It’s eight in the morning.”

He gave you his signature smile before flipping through the magazine on the table. Karen walked into the kitchen and sent you a knowing look once she saw you and Eddie being civil.

She made her own breakfast, and took Eddie’s seat when he left. “So, anything interesting happen recently?”

“Besides having a hit single, not much. I do really like that Daisy girl, though.”

Karen stared at you blankly. “You know what I’m talking about.”

You placed your fingers to your temples and closed your eyes. “I sense something brewing between Karen Karen and Graham the Man. Nothing else between any other band members, so it would be pointless to ask.”

She laughed. “I sense nothing of the sort. I’m letting Camila deal with you. I just can’t anymore.”

Y/N: Looking back on it, we were pretty insufferable.

With Billy and Daisy writing songs by themselves, you and the others had some time to kill. Karen and Graham were off at the beach while you hung back with Warren and Eddie.

They really loved Rollerball. Either that or they were really high. You were willing to bet on the latter.

By the third showing, you didn’t fail to notice how close Eddie had gotten to you. His arm brushed against yours, and he leaned his head close to yours.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, moving away from him and bringing your arm off of the armrest.

He frowned and folded his arms over his chest. Both of you knew something just happened, but refused to acknowledge it. The tension in the air was thick.

Once back at the house, you went to your room immediately. You planned on calling Camila and bothering her with questions about what all these shenanigans with Eddie mean.

What you didn’t expect was Eddie following you into your room and closing the door behind him.

You glanced up from the phone. “What are you doing? Get out, I’m busy.”

The phone rang twice before Camila picked up. “What are we?” Eddie asked. You hung up before she could get a word out.

“What are you talking about?”

He looked more annoyed than he did angry, but the tone of his voice suggested otherwise. “Well, one second you’re rubbing up against me in a movie theater and the other you’re acting all pissed about it.”

You physically cringed. “‘Rubbing up against you?’ That is not what happened.”

“Then what about all those times you tell me I’m hot, huh?”

“You’re the one who initiates that!” you said exasperatedly. “All I do is respond. If you’re trying to insinuate that I flirt with you, then that’s all you.”

He marched up to you until he was mere feet away. “You’re so hot and cold that it drives me insane. Do you want me or not?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Pretty bold of you to assume I would want you.”

He made a wild gesture with his hands and ran one over his face. “You’re exhausting. You make me so mad, and I hate that I like you.”

“Shut up, you don’t like me. We hate each other.”

“Oh, my God, you don’t get it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “I think about you. All the time. When I see a stupid joke in a magazine, I think of you. When I hear a John Denver song, I think of you. You drive me fucking crazy, Y/n! People who hate each other don’t think about each other like this, don’t act like this. I like you, for God’s sake.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You listen to John Denver?”

“That’s all you have to say?” He tried sounding angry but he was laughing too.

“I thought you were a rockstar.” You mocked him by holding up two ‘rock on’ hand signs.

“You don’t even care about the sentiment.” He rolled his eyes.

“Be quiet.” You were smiling when you kissed him, cupping his face while his arms snaked around your back.

You tangled both hands in his hair as he deepened the kiss by tilting his head and letting his tongue enter your mouth.

Your fingers messed up his hair before moving down to tug on his shirt collar, pulling him impossibly close.

He tapped your thigh and pulled his lips from yours to whisper, “Jump.”

You complied. He held onto your back with one hand as the other gripped your thigh while your legs wrapped around his waist.

Your hands came back up to rake through his hair, tugging it softly. He continued kissing you feverishly as he made his way to your bed. He almost dropped you when he lowered your body to it.

He climbed onto the bed and hovered over you, kissing down your neck while you gripped his shirt.

“It’s quiet,” Karen said, sitting on the couch, no longer hearing the near screaming match happening in your bedroom.

“Too quiet,” Graham agreed. Warren stood up and pressed his ear to the door, his mouth dropping open.

“Guys, I think they’re boning in there.”

“Warren, please refrain from saying ‘boning.’”

#eddie roundtree #eddie loving #eddie roundtree x reader #eddie loving x reader #daisy jones and the six #daisy jones x reader #daisy jones #djats #daisy jones & the six #daisy jones fanfiction #daisy jones fanfic #dj&ts #eddie roundtree fanfiction #eddie roundtree fanfic #birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics

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kobb4ni2 · 4 months

Text

[ FEM READER ]

Tw: Suggestive stuff + me yapping nonsense

So I just read the new CSM chapter and I feel like I wanna km$, re read the last few chapters and IM NOT GONNA SPOIL ANYTHING but a favourite character by the Csm manga community came back and they’re back with laces as their new aesthetic, that made me and my willy happy :3 (I shouldn’t really treat tumblr like TikTok 💀, cuz of those mfs treating me like a baby)

ANYWAYS imagine Sea Serpent! Reader who some reason got dolled up to be a Oiran. Not a Geisha but an Orian (aka the one that brings pleasure to the pleasure district…)

Maybe Sea Serpent! Reader lost a bet from Black Maria and now she’s out her seducing people left to right even if not intentionally.

AND OOOOH BOY imagine if Oiran Sea Serpent! Reader can actually be hired YANDERES WOULD GO CRAZY MAN GRAAGHHH

Your dazzling makeup with the most white foundation on your face, with red lipstick that resembles a heart to kiss you clients with, your kimono being custom-made layered kimono but with laces or trims that show seduction on your gorgeous [colored] skin. Your hair put up into whatever your hair texture is possible off, ribbons and pins making your neck and collar bones more exposed for those who desire for, your tail also decorated with ribbons and all to matched your exotic and unique features.

I can imagine Black Maria showing off Sea Serpent! Reader to the Tobi Roppo and the Calamities THE JAW IS ON THE FLOOR, Black Maria definitely won’t share so most of the time you’re with her, but that doesn’t stop King or anyone to grab their hand on you.

King tricking Black Maria to let you perform for a banquet but that “banquet” was only him….in a very fancy noise blocked bedroom….far away from the base….why is King guiding your hands to his body….

Or how Black Maria swears, that sweetly caressing your shoulders and your tail or legs is beneficial to being an Oiran, the light kisses on your cheek that is very hard to get rid off because she wants to flex you off? Very beneficial for being an Oiran!

Sasaki making you hella drunk and sweet talking his way to you, how he makes his voice much more deeper and sensual just to awaken something inside of you, your body feels hot and for some reason your eyes are dazy and all you can think of is pinning Sasaki down and ravaging him…

Something would definitely go like this….

Yandere King: *sees Oiran Sea Serpent! Reader through the window*

Yandere King: *Goes down and ask one of the girls working at the district* “How strong are the soundproof walls are here.”

Yandere Sasaki/Black Maria: “Where can I find the strongest aphrodisiac.”

SORRY IF ITS A SHORT ONE TODAY 😞😞 ILL SO MOST THE ASK TOMMTOR IF I CAN

PS: Sthenius is getting detained cause they knew that she’s a major cockblocker to them 😞

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icameheretoreadstuff · 10 months

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Do you take requests? Because I have a request. This is my first time but k love your stories. Okay what if reader is 23 and she is the secret Blossom daughter anyways she is also dating FP and she gets super jealous of Alice (who I’m sorry don’t like) anyways what if she gets down and sees maybe FP would do better without her but he changes her mind? With some smut?!! Hehehe ahh I’m so excited

Hii, aww thank yooou 🥳 How exciting, this is my first request! it took some time writing this, im so sorry about that but here it is 🙈 oh and bytheway hahah, I got a little carried away so its kinda long 🙈

The Blossom Secret Pairing: FP Jones x F!Reader Warnings: 18+, smut, explicit sex, alcohol A/N: masterpost & links are pinned on my tumblr.

You let out a sigh as you were walking on your way home from a long day. The weather was hot today, so your long ginger-red hair was sticking to your back. You shaked your hair to get some air under your hair and when that didnt help you tied your hair up into a bun. You walked up the stairs to your little apartment, as you opened your bag to find your keys. You unlocked the door and walked inside to find the remote to the air condition on the wall and turned it on. You let out a breath as you stood underneath it to cool down.

You turned around to put your groceries in the fridge. You got your eye on the white wine you opened yesterday and grabbed it from the fridge. You poured yourself some wine and sat down in your couch. You bowed down and grabbed a box from under the couch. Inside there was secret documents that you had gotten in the mail, which was the reason why you came to Riverdale.

Inside there was your birth certificate and you found a note where it stood: From Alice cooper. Apperently this Alice had sent them to you months ago. So when you found this Alice Cooper from Riverdale, ofcourse you packed a bag and travelled to find Riverdale and this woman, only when you found this woman you ended up getting interviewed instead of getting answers. She swore that she had found them in her mailbox and had made copies and mailed them to you. She swore she didnt know anything more.

That woman really got on your nerves, you left that day and promised yourself you were going to find out what the hell is going on. You bought an apartment and got a job at some diner named pop’s. You just had to find out what actually stood on that birth certificate. But the thing was they had been blacked out and when you asked your adoptive parents they said it was an closed adoption so they knew nothing. you figured out you were on your own.

You sighed and took a big sip of wine as you threw the box away. After a couple of weeks after you had settled in, you found someone who was willing to help you. He was tall, dangerous smile and god damn: handsome as fuck. So was it really a suprise you couldnt resist and eventually flirted with him? For months you had worked together to try to find out who you are related to, But you grew more interested in him than your birth parents.

You wanted to know the truth ofcourse but you already had a family who you missed like crazy and loved deeply.. You only did this cause you hated not knowing. You wanted to know but this man, right now, he was much more intresting. After months with flirting you fell hard. He had flirted back and he was after all trying to help you, but you could tell he should be with someone else. Infact he convinced you today himself.

Today at 4 pm:

"Hi, could you please take out the trash and then youre done for the day apperantly." Pop said as he looked up at the clock and continued to help some costumers. "sure, thanks pop" you said simply and smiled as you carried out the trash. You smiled knowing you actually had began feeling comfterable in your new job. You loved talking to the costumers and serving people who lighten up when you served the famous milkshakes at pops.

You tried to open the door with one foot, cause you were carrying so much garbage, so you turned around and dragged them out. You felt a firm hand on your back which made you starled. "what" you said as you turned around to figure out who it was. "hi" Fp said in a low tone, he slowly inhaled your scent.

"hi" you said with a half smile and tried to walk over to the garbadge cans. As if he had just woken up he walked over to you and grabbed the trash from your hands and smiled "I'll help" he smiled, the actual smile that made your knees turn into gello. You opened the trashbins and he threw in the trash easily. "Thanks" you smiled and walked away from the smelly trashcans. "can we talk?" he asked. "Sure" you said and he followed you around the corner where there was more privacy. "what's up" you asked.

He sighed out loudly and it looked like he was debating on what to say. "tell me" you said as you took your handkerchief from your apron and playfully smacked him on his arm. He let out a short laugh as he sighed long. "I found out something big and I think you should sit down" he said, you looked worried at him. "just tell me" you asked and he sighed "alright" he looked into your eyes as he said. "Youre a blossom" he said "blossom? really?" you asked and knew some stories from the blossom family. You had heard allot of stories at pop's, so you werent all unimformed.

"apperently Clifford and Penelope Blossom tried to hide the fact they got pregnant when they were young and had you adopted." he explained. "wow" you simply stated. "I need some time to thaw on this" you said. But honestly you were more concerned with him. Right now he felt so right in your life that he had become the light in your life. Everytime the bell rang at pops you hoped it was him, you became more and more invested in this research because of him?

"are you ok?" he asked. you shaked our head clean, from stopping yourself of thinking anymore about this. "yeah, anyways I should probobly go, thanks again" you said and hated that, thats what came out of your own mouth. "I mean it, thank you so much" you tried to smile and he took out his hand and touched your arm. The warmth that came from his hand made your heart flutter. you starred into his eyes as you walked closer to him and gave him a hug.

He arms wrapped softly around your waist and you heard yourself exhale. "thanks" you whispered softly, you tried to walk away from his hug but it was so damn hard. You didnt want to leave. you felt his cheek come close into yours, you leaned back to get a look at his lips. He licked his lips dry as you were just inches away from eachother, you looked into his eyes and bit your lower lip. he stared at your lip as he leaned closer to you-

"FP!" someone yelled. A familiar female voice stopped you from finally tasting his lips, he sighed "sorry I got to go" he said. he pulled back away from you and walked away, suddenly he was gone. You touched your cheek as you felt the warmth from where his chin had just been, slowly fade away and turned cold. You closed your eyes and wanted to savior every moment.

You grabbed your bag and were ready to head home. You were dizzy from the heated moment from you and Fp still. you walked outside of pops after you had just said goodbye to everyone. You were on your way to the car. Months of pining after him and Alice just- "FP!" Alice exclaimed "Im in love with you and I want to be with you" she said. You froze and looked at where the voice were coming from. "I can't believe this" you felt tears build up as you saw Fp hold her both hands and said something only she could hear. "I cant believe this" you uttered under your breath.

Now 6pm:

Yep, that happened. You felt anger rise inside you as you inhaled and exhaled. You rised up to go and find something stronger to drink. You opened your cabins from the kitchen and found a bottle. «There you are» you sighed, grabbed a shotglass and poured tequila into it. «fuck them» you said as you raised your hand and threw down the shot.

Today you had found out the truth and that you were some secret blossom daughter. Honestly you didnt care about the blossom family, you already had a loving family. The only thing you couldnt get out of your head was him, you just wanted him.

But you cant have him, because of Alice. Fuck this and fuck him and her, you made up your mind to go out and drink somewhere not alone. You took another shot and changed out of your uniform into something better. You found a black strapless dress and put on some red lipstick.

You stood ready to leave when you opened the door and you saw him standing there in the doorway. "hi" he said as he starred at you on your dress "what do you want?" you asked as you leaned your hand on your waist as you held the door open with your other hand. He couldn't stop looking at your waist and tried to not stare his hardest but failing. "why aren't you with Alice?" you asked with a mean look. "If you came here to gloat why didnt you bring Alice?" you joked and shaked your head, you looked into his eyes waiting for him to respond.

"hm?" he looked up confused "wait, why are you talking about Alice?" you crossed your hands and shaked your head. "I couldn't care less about Alice" he reasured. "yeah right" you let out a snort and tried to shut the door in his face but he grabbed the door and walked halfway inside and looked at you with a smile which made your knees turn into gello once again.

"youre mean" you barely managed to say. He walked inside, closed the door behind him and gave you a puzzling look. "what" you asked annoyed. "Do you know how frustrating this whole situation is?" he sighed as he walked further inside the apartment, He had been here a couple of times but he never let you out of his sight. he slowly walked over to you until he stood close enough for you to inhale his perfume.

the perfume made you let out a whimper, you covered your mouth trying to hide the sound that made him look into your eyes with hunger "what do you want? and why arent you with alice, you should be with her, not me" he shaked his head slowly as you asked all these questions, he looked down on his shoes and let out a sigh "y/n" he began "can you leave, If youre going to let me know youre not interested you didnt have to come here and pity me, I have your money right here, so you can just go back to that fuckin-" you barked.

he looked at you with a tense look in his eyes and interupted you "I dont care about Alice" he explained and shook his head, "what are you even talking about, I want you!" he said annoyed "I didnt come here for her or money" he took out his hand and placed it under your chin. "I came here for you" he whispered, "can you please stop making this so damn difficult" he let out a short laugh. "I saw you in your car today driving home from pops, I know what you saw and I knew you would misunderstand, She was jelaous of you and wanted to be with me, but I told her that I was falling for someone else" He leaned closer to you, just a few inches away from your lips.

You held out your hand on his chest trying to stop him, you felt his heart bump like crazy under your palm. "Fp" you whispered, he grabbed your hand and guided you around his neck as he leaned closer to your ear. "I dont have anything more to talk about that woman, I only want to talk about us." he whispered, "I want to feel you lay naked under me" he said as he kissed your chin "I have wanted to kiss your neck for months now" he said as he kissed your neck softly, you let out a whimper.

"How much more do I have to explain to you that youre the one I want?" he kissed your chin once more and grabbed your head and looked softly into your eyes. "I'm in love with you, not her" he finally said and waited for you to respond. you completly froze and after a second your body reacted "don't break my heart" you said and kissed him deeply, he inhaled your kiss and sucked your lips playfully.

He broke the kiss and grabbed your legs and held you in his arms as he walked into the wall, as he deepend the kiss. he pushed you up into the wall more as he licked your upper lip. You held his shoulders, he grabbed your thighs and lifted slowly up your dress as he kissed your neck with soft kisses.

He grunted as he grabbed your ass and pushed himself into your core. You let out a whimper as his hard shaft made contact with your core, you began thrusting into his shaft and wanted to kiss him more. He grunted and thrusted back as he opend his mouth to let you explore his tounge.

His eyes fell behind his head as he let out a deep grunt. "youre already so wet for me" he smirked and grabbed your waist. "please let me taste you" he asked as his voice broke. "in there" you managed to let out and he turned carried you into your bedroom.

He layed your body down on the bed and took off his jacket and shirt, You felt his gaze burn onto your body, He was so beautiful. You threw off your dress and were about to take off your panties, but he stopped you "let me" he asked and took off his shoes and pants. He bent down to your core, and grabbed your waist and pulled you twoards his mouth as he dragged your panties off your waist.

He licked his lips dry "youre so beautiful I can't-" He tasted you with a flat tounge. "you taste so good, I-" he said with a smirk and tasted you once more and he was not being shy, letting out all sorts of sounds as he tasted every inch of your core. You let a whimper and felt euphoric as he couldn't stop tasting you.

He looked up at you and smirked "if you let out a whimper one more time I can't stop myself from-" he began while he took one of his fingers and touched your g-spot. your head flew back as a result and you let out a moan. He stopped and flew over you in a second to kiss you deeply.

His hard long shaft was throbbing against your core, you both wanted more contact from eachother but couldnt stop kissing. "you drive me insane" he whispered as he thrusted gently into your core and started to find a slow rythum. "take it off" you said and he smirked. "do it" you pleaded and tried to take off his underpants yourself.

He stood up from the bed and dragged off his underpants and your gaze went straight to his big throbbing manhood, you let out a whimper as he rushed over to you again and kissed your neck. "Do you know how hard it is to be around you and not wanting to kiss you?" he whispered into your ear as he let his shaft close to your core.

Your hips began moving wanting some friction. "Ive wanted to to this for so long now, and I want to see your hauntingly beautiful face when my dick makes you orgasm." his voice broke as he grunted and pushed his long shaft into you. "FP" you let out a moan, he started to thrust slowly to make you adjust to his size. "I want you so bad" you whimpered, you felt your entire body turn electric at the contact of his skin, his body and his breath.

He thrusted slowly and began turn up the pace as he kept kissing your neck and then he pulled out and sat in a upright position, as he grabbed your body and you felt like a magnet, searching for contact.

you sat down ontop of him and began to ride him, your lips searched for his lips as you looked into his beautiful eyes. "Im so in love with you" he whimpered, you let out a moan as his words were making you close to climax. "You're so beautiful I cant get enough of you" he said as he began breathing heavier.

"I cant wait to see beautiful orgasm" he panted "youre doing so amazing" you kissed him deeply and grabbed his shoulders and started to pick up the pace, "Im gonna-" you let out a moan and felt your orgasm come closer, you pushed his body down on the bed and held his hands down beside his head. He sat up his legs to thrust into you as you finally felt the orgasm take over your entire body. "Your orgasm is making me so hard" he said as he kept thrusting as you rode out your orgasm.

He pulled out and you grabbed his shaft, he let out a moan at your contact. You licked his length and started adjust his size into your mouth as he thrusted himself into you. "Im-" he panted and you bobbed your head in a rythum as he thrusted himself slowly into your mouth. "Im-" his orgasm shot electricity threw your body as you watched him cum on your stomach.

You walked off the bed and held out your hand, "shower with me?" you asked. He smirked and raised up from the bed, he grabbed your hand and kissed your arm and upwards your shoulder then he kissed you deeply "I would love to"

#riverdale smut #riverdale #fp jones x reader #fp jones #fp Jones x F!reader #smut requests #Fp Jones x you #riverdale Fp jones #fp jones smut

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thatdesklamp · 2 months

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Hello, and (for the moment) ‘see you in a while’ from old desklamp.

(Quick edit now I’ve written this all out: Oh, lordie—I’ve just realised that this sounds like I’m announcing I’m giving up on IW. I’m not! I promise. This is all about how I’m trying to facilitate my writing process. IW is not being dropped: let’s get that out of the way first, lmao.)

Hello all! I’ve been doing some self-reflecting, and I’ve come up with this: I’ve struggled with writing ‘Intrinsic Warmth’ for a long time now.

Alll too often I’ve been sat with my laptop for hours having only managed to squeeze out one or two paragraphs that I don’t even like all that much anyway. I haven’t felt satisfied by writing for a long time, and so I just haven’t written anything. It’s been months since I’ve written something worth reading for IW, and I’ve been having a think as to why.

I think it comes down to two things; I’ve been feeling a lot of pressure in writing IW, and I’ve become too fixated on the instant gratification of feedback from you guys.

First: the pressure. IW has gotten bigger than I ever considered it would be, especially recently (as in, in the jjk season 2 era). The support and feedback continues to blow me away, and I’m staggered every time I stop to actually consider the magnitude of the response that IW has gotten. It’s genuinely crazy.

All that is to say: I wasn’t prepared for this!! I don’t mean that in any resentful way at all, I want to be clear. Moreso that it’s easy to feel a bit overwhelmed by it all. I know that, relative to other huge ao3 fics, IW isn’t even that huge. But I also recognise that in the ‘Gojo x reader scene’, it’s pretty up there, even if we’re just looking through a ‘filter by most kudos’-ed fic angle. There’s a been big response, and I’m just one person, lmao. But come on, I absolutely love it, and I’m so grateful that people have enjoyed the stuff I’m writing—but as more and more people have been picking it up I’ve felt a definite pressure put upon me. It’s a pressure to write well, and to write more, and to write good things more often. This isn’t to do with anything anyone’s said, don’t worry, but more as an expected consequence of IW picking up traction.

I feel more and more like a ‘popular author’, and feel like I’m doing you guys a disservice with my infrequent updates. I truly do appreciate the reassurance of ‘you can update whenever you want!’, genuinely, but I’m also an ao3 reader myself! I empathise with and understand the frustration that must be felt when I go months between updates. Writing has never come at the expense of my personal, academic or social life (hence why I’ve never tried to tie myself down with an update schedule: I’d never be able to keep to it), and I’d never want it to. I want to keep writing as it’s always been: one of my hobbies. But as IW increases in popularity, it feels like it almost *should* take priority over other things, and this has left me feeling pretty overwhelmed.

My second reason: I’ve also become a tad too dependent on feedback. When IW was in its fledgling stages, I didn’t show it to anyone at all, and was ‘writing for myself’ in the barest sense of the phrase. Only one of my irl friends has read any of it, and when I was first uploading it, when I had about 5ish comments per chapter, any feedback I was getting would always be secondary to my own. I was writing for myself, because I enjoyed writing and I enjoyed what I was writing about, and it just so happened that there were a few people who felt the same as me.

It’s very different now! And I much prefer it now—it’s every writer’s dream to have had such an overwhelmingly positive response to their writing. And now it gets to the point where I can check my emails, or look at my tumblr notifications, and there’ll always be new for me. And whilst I absolutely love this, it’s pretty addictive, checking again and again, seeing what people are saying. This positive response from others is more instantly gratifying than the slow, steady, personal enjoyment I get from writing.

It sounds silly, I know, but I’ve been writing this hunger games fic (completely spontaneous, likely never to be published), and no-one’s read it but me, and it’s reminded me how much I really do like writing. I’ve loved the process of writing it, because the only person whose opinion I’m listening to is my own.

I don’t want to discourage people from reaching out to me, leaving comments, even talking about IW, anything like that. That’s not what I mean. But this is me recognising that I should probably take a step back from the non-writing side of writing: being active on tumblr, constantly checking asks, making posts, etc. Know that whilst I may not immediately respond to you, once I get back in the swing of things over here, I will do. I just need to sort out my personal priorities a bit, I think.

Saying this, I know I haven’t been all that active recently (this has honestly been intentional: I’ve been trying to wean myself off it, lmao) but for the immediate future, I’m making that more definite: I’m going to try to revert my focus to writing. I’m going to stay off tumblr for a bit, until I’ve gotten back into the swing of writing and don’t find myself so focused on the feedback side of it all. Hopefully this’ll spark up some more genuine passion in me! Please know that if you’ve written an ao3 comment, I have read it. I don’t know when I will respond to them, but I definitely will, I just want to keep my focus on the personal side of writing for the moment.

Thank you to everyone! Again, this is just me going off the grid for a while: not a big fuckoff goodbye or anything. If this is unreasonably theatrical, blame my drama GCSE. Going off to do some writing now. See you guys!

#intrinsic warmth

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sleepykyupid · 3 months

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original callout post is by @menheratic !! if you want more info, please ask them. i am merely reuploading the original callout post of ezaki. please do check out the link of the jp community calling him out in 2019 ^^ https://togetter.com/li/1327770

! The following post talks about the various bad things that Menhera-chan's creator, Ezaki Bisuko, has done.

Here a japanese summary of all the shit he did so far, including but not limited to:

• registering Yamikawaii as trademark

• sending his fans after gyaru YouTuber Usatani to harass her into a suicide attempt over unknowingly buying a shirt with stolen PPG fanart he drew

• himself buying products with stolen art, even promoting their sales, because it’s totally ok when he does it

• the reason why Usatan’s original design was changed aka it was a ripoff of Cult Party’s iconic rabbit mascot that was designed by their artist Maromika-chan

• wrote a whole guide on how to legally get away with sex work as child

• proof of him tracing art for the more detailed MCH artworks

• how he attended the Menhera Exhibit only to smear misogynist bullshit with blood on maxipads

• complaining about how anime for little girls are evil feminist agenda TM because ain’t nobody need men to be saved anymore

• boasting about being a fashion designer only selecting the finest fabrics for his merch when it’s actually made by the japanese equivalent of Redbubble

• “parody” works featuring child characters like Chibi Maruko-chan prostituting themself, the message being all women are whores regardless of age for the right amount of money

• the small “terms and conditions” shield he has at his con booths where you agree that you need to buy anything you touch

• how he setup an earthquake victim fundraiser only to keep the money

• telling his english fans they are not allowed to use any of his art for private use, like as icon, unless they pay him

• how he wants to move to the US when he turns 30 because of all the evil haters TM in Japan

• copyright claiming everyone left and right

• japanese Menhera speaking out about he keeps hurting the community

In regards of the maxi pads:

TW, CW // nooses, misogynistic text in red on maxipads

Our favorite being the second row second one, “Abortion is murder”.

Some more recent event: When he started harassing and hating on disabled people after Tokyo Fashion translated a Tweet of his because being disabled is discriminating yourself.

It’s like a trainwreck that refuses to end, now with 100% more crypto on NFT while shitting on those who warn about the dangers.

His NFT sales can be found here: https://foundation.app/@bisuko_ezaki

For some reason, after 7 years, he also decided to re-release the infamous wrist-cut bracelet to sell at events. The leader of the Neo-Decora group bought one for example:

TW // Bracelet that imitates sh, includes blood

Also keeps doing collabs with “Tokyo Uragawa” under Yamiko so Seigi (Mental illness is justice), which focuses on self-harming girls as fetish objects.

TW, CW // drawn sh

Recently, he also wrote a long-article on his definition of Yamikawaii:

https://harajuku-pop.com/67775/

Still not sure where overseas people got “this is about mental health awareness” from, might be based on mistranslations because the word for mental health and illness is one in the same, and his definition is about glorifying mental illness. In fact, this is why he was banned from Tumblr because he kept posting other people’s self-harm photos to his aesthetic blog Menherabusu.

Next up: Made suicide baiting posts over his following decreasing in the hopes of getting attention, fans sent him photos of cute animals to cheer him up, and he decided to post about destroying the pictures.

Tbh, this list could go on forever as he does this kind of bs on an almost daily basis now, but apparently people don’t care enough to stop throwing money at him.

Meanwhile the Japanese community made a whole Wiki for tracking all of his drama considering how much it is by now.

https://ezabisumatome.wiki.fc2.com/

TW // mention of shotacon

Decided to nickname himself Shotabi, the name being a combination of Shotacon and Bisuko, while using nsfw anime edits of male child characters in sexual situations as decor for his selfies.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝:

Is it ok to still like Menhera-chan?

𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫:

Sure, the problem is really only Ezaki himself and his increasing problematic remarks fueled by his ego, the manga is a lot older than him being like that.

Fun fact: Ezaki actually hates Menhera-chan because it's the only thing he ever gets approached for by the media, he constantly rants about this on Twitter. If you have noticed, he barely makes new MCH content anymore (unless he gets paid for it) and mainly reposts old artworks and fanart (without permission) instead because it's the only way he can still get attention as his other works, like the misogynist Manapisu, which is just him hating on women as "dumb wh*res" as a manga, flopped badly.

Just try to not fund his bs by buying new goods.

#menhera #menhera chan #bisuko ezaki #archived #yamikawaii

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genericpuff · 3 months

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Just saw your response to someone asking about plot points you hate. Can I ask why you don't like Athena/Hestia? From what I remember (take this with a grain of salt because while I've read the whole comic it's more in a junk food, read and forget til next time kind of thing)

From what I remember it's not a huge plot point? Like its just kinda.. there? It doesn't really impact much of the story at large.

Also I agree with the hades/thanatos thing, that's kinda odd and it doesn't make hades any better or more sympathetic of a protagonist. If I remember right, doesn't he abandon thanatos or push him away?

I have issues with the Hestia x Athena plotline the same way I have issues with the Hera x Echo plotline. It all feels shoehorned in for the sake of seeming 'inclusive' towards gay relationships, but gets next to no actual development or screentime aside from the odd lip service meant to benefit Rachel.

Especially when Hestia and Athena were already embraced as LGBTQ+ icons to begin with and didn't need to be shipped together to make it possible. Rachel has a really hard time comprehending aroace identities and this is present even back in her Tumblr days-

If Hestia and Athena are still supposed to be at least ace in LO then we haven't seen any indication of that. So it just makes them look hypocritical as fuck for running the "virgins only club" that is TGOEM (and even going so far as to punish Persephone for being around Hades by confiscating his gift to her) and that unfortunately makes them look like really terrible people which isn't a great look for the only lesbian couple in the story (at least until Eros and Hera were established but whether or not they're an actual couple now or if that was just a one time kiss scene remains to be seen). Like even the reveal that they're together is Artemis figuring it out and then being pissed that she's the "only one following the rules", not them coming out about it on their own terms.

Also no, the Hestia x Athena plotline wasn't as big as the other plotlines, but it was one of the ones that felt so out of left field and forced when it was first established. Plus I'd just love for them to be aroace rep again, there are characters who are legitimate gay icons that got erased so that Rachel could retroactively shove it into other characters without any reasoning or relevance to the plot.

I honestly wouldn't have been so salty about the Hestia x Athena plotline if it were just written better (and if it didn't reek of aroace erasure) and that goes for a lot of the queer relationships in LO, because so many of them are only given the tiniest ounces of screentime, enough for Rachel to take credit for being "inclusive" but not enough for her to actually have a diverse cast. Morpheus is the most consistently present character we've gotten for LGBTQ+ rep and now even she's been fridged :/

Anyways, as for Hades and Thanatos, yeah, the retcon that Hades was a 'father figure' to Thanatos the whole time seems like it was purely written in to make Thanatos look like a hypocrite for having very reasonable concerns regarding the special treatment being given to Persephone at work. But then Rachel had to actually resolve that plotline so in S3 she had Hades approach Thanatos in search of his brother just for them to have a weak 'heart to heart' where Thanatos took the blame for being a 'handful' and Hades trauma dumped and never really took accountability for everything. The fact that we're supposed to believe they have a father-son dynamic really makes the first season gross to read because the whole time Hades is legitimately treating Thanatos like scum. It absolutely does NOT make Hades more likeable, even with the attempt to 'redeem' him which really just made him look like an even bigger asshole u.u

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus

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szalnyshko · 3 months

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(•Д•), Dunmeshi is over taking me!! [spoilers ahead!]

So, I’ve already finished the manga and I’m now waiting for the new episode but during the gap I’ve been consuming fandom content, as per use. Now, the character that I’ve been consuming the most fandom content is Laios cause he’s so jdjdjsjs, and this idea has been fluttering round my head because I’ve only seen THREE actual posts/works about this. Two being fics and one being a tumblr post.

The specific idea is a sibling swap, Falin and Laios, and I’m suffering from lack of content from it!! Only two fics and one tumblr post [ТдТ] One of the fics is Laios and making his desire to be to swap with Falin, and what he thinks will happen. The other is Falin going through the dungeon to save Laios and it’s specific the episode that’s coming out this Thursday, so chapter 27/28 in manga I think.

Like this concept really gets me going cause it changed the whole dynamic of how things would play out. Laios being there meant they met Senshi because Laios was interested in eating monsters. Falin, although she does have an interest, would not have that strong of an interest in eating monsters. I also feel she may not realise it’s hunger that caused them to fail because she was focused on protecting her brother and the party, literally letting herself get eaten to save her brother. She also would not have intimate knowledge of monsters so the party may have a harder time killing monsters.

I think Marcille and Chilchuck would still be in the party. Marcille doesn’t seem to have a deep connection with Laios at the start, with her clashing with Laios and his monster eating habits. Plus the prior encounter where she wanted to kill him for taking Falin away from magic school. This bond deepens between them as they go down the dungeon and she obviously cares for the rest of the party, feeling betrayed that Namari and Shuro [I keep forget your actual name] left. But I feel if it were Lauos to get eaten she wouldn’t be as motivated as she is with Falin [Lesbian icon!] because she doesn’t get to connect with him. This then brings into question, would she revive Laios and risk being jailed by the elves?

She probably would because it’s Falin who asked but there would be more hesitation. Especially with Chilchuck who is against it no matter what.

Talking about Chilchuck, I feel he would stay out of obligation. The same reason he stayed with Laios originally. I think his dynamic wouldn’t change that much but maybe he’d see Falin and Marcill closer to his daughters [?] or maybe he’d have a gripe cause of their relationship as we already know he doesn’t do inter party relationships.

Namari would still leave but I think Shuro would be more hesitant, his love for Falin possibly making him stay for a little bit.

Of course we have the problem with money and food but I think Falin has enough people skills to gather some things. But, because she lived with Laios for some time and heard about his monster fantasies, maybe she’d consider eating monsters. I feel people would be more likely to listen to her rather than Laios [sorry buddy] but still question it. However, Shuro did have a whole crew so maybe he’d help with that and we’d have a whole different crew dynamic.

Talking about that, I wonder how Kabru and his party would interact with Falin’s party. How’d the Namari reunion go? What would Falin’s desire be? How would the finale fight be? Would Laios have a cool chimera bod like Falin?

So many questions for my tiny brain….

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bettyshoweduptotheparty · 5 months

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My Exit Note (for now) - and A Letter to Taylor

I’m so very sorry to the lovely people on here who will be saddened to read this, but this will be my last post for a while. I re-joined tumblr in June last year to re-reconnect to this lovely community, and it genuinely seemed so much safer to do than back in 2017. I thought the fandom had gained some perspective as a whole. But after only 7 months, the fandom (and by that I mean swifties) has once again become a battle ground for us, fuelled by none other than Taylor herself, and I’m no longer willing to gloss over that. I’m choosing my own peace.

It may seem like a very fickle move after only 7 months in this space, when the good people on here are genuinely some of the kindest and most intelligent people I’ve ever met online, but let me explain why I need to take a break. I don’t intend to leave Taylor Swift and her art behind and never look back. In fact, I have Eras tour tickets for the summer and I want to give myself a chance to actually be excited about that by the time June comes around. But it’s all too familiar, pretty much exactly the same reason I left tumblr the first time in 2017. I’m here to discuss and analyse Taylor’s art with likeminded (queer) people and I can’t respect the artist of that very art when she continually gives her toxic ‘fans’ ammunition to come into our safe space and harass us and then watches as we scramble to keep ourselves safe amidst abuse and threats. They are doing this in HER name. Members of a marginalised community she claims to be an ‘ally’ to are being doxxed and harassed in HER name and she’s doing nothing. If anything she’s fanning the flames while it burns. Whatever it is that she’s doing with her brand right now, her silence when her own crazy fans are sending DEATH THREATS to people for simply interpreting her art, means that I cannot be part of that right now. I thought the fandom had changed, that Taylor had grown more confident defending what she stands for, but clearly, I was wrong.

The tipping point back in 2017 for me, was when she told those kids from the rep secret sessions that the album was all about her darling bf and gave them permission to go after anyone who said otherwise. And boy, did they take that seriously. They came after us in our little corner for gushing over how beautifully gay those songs were, fuelled by words straight from the horse’s mouth. SHE sent those people after us. Because she wrote the gayest album in history and she couldn’t deal with the noise getting too loud. And I lost all respect for her. It was only in 2019 when she was suddenly draped in rainbows that I carefully looked at gaylor spaces online again, because it seemed like she was finally actually committing to it. But we all know how that ended… So, to see one of those very rep secret session kids on my YouTube feed yesterday picking apart this beautiful NY Times article with lies and inaccuracies in the name of Taylor’s straightness, just reminded me whose side she decides to put herself on. She invited those people to her house. She caters to them, not us. She made them think they were her friends and then sent them after us. With HER OWN WORDS. And I can’t be in the trenches for someone who hands my bullies a gun and points at the target.

I will leave my blog active this time, so my content will be here for people to engage with if they want. But I won’t be on here to receive your messages or dm’s. I’m sorry that I’m leaving you guys at a time where we need to stick together, but I’m getting more anger and hurt out of this than joy atm and that’s always the time for me to put myself first and step away. I hope that we will come together again when the tide changes, I’m still somewhat convinced that the clock is ticking towards a better time for us, but I need Taylor to come through for us (and herself) before I can look at her again. And I promise if that happens, I won’t hold a grudge.

And lastly, here’s something I’ve never done because I’m not crazy enough to think that Taylor sees us on here, but I don’t have any other social media and I had to get this off my chest. (If you have twitter/instagram, maybe do something similar, you never know, she might actually see it and I think she needs to know how much hurt she’s causing with this)

Dear Taylor, @taylorswift

What are you doing, love? I wish I could actually ask you that. In fact, I’ve wished it many times throughout the decade that I’ve been a fan of your music. I’ve wished that I could tell you what your music meant to me when I was heartbroken, and how much joy it brought me when I was young and felt invincible. You changed my life when you proudly held a girl’s hand in public with a smile that showed me that love is there for people like me to find, after all. And when the world was hard on you, I wished I could ask you if you were ok. But today, I just want to ask you this: what have I done to deserve you sending the worst kind of people after me? Time and time again. And you can’t tell me you didn’t know that would happen, I know you’re smart. I know you know the kind of people I’m talking about, the ones that worship you like a God, that will stop at nothing to defend the version of you they have in their heads. The ones you built your empire on. Good on you, but when did you stop caring for the people that actually see you and read the words you put out into the world for us? Was that not what you wanted? I can’t claim to understand how you live the life you’ve chosen, but at least your art was always there to bring joy to my life and community when I needed it. I didn’t need you to be a hero, but now you’ve become part of the problem.

So, here’s the thing: choose a side. Commit to us, or let us go. This line that you’re walking has reached the end. You want to be an ally? Fine. Let me help you with that: Don’t claim to be a safe space for queer people and then throw a grenade into our community and watch it burn. That’s not what an ally does. Don’t appropriate our culture by using our pride flag colours or the colour lavender and then deny the cultural and historic significance of those colours, effectively erasing their meaning. That’s not what an ally does. And most importantly, don’t let people be slaughtered, gaslit and harassed on the internet, or mainstream news, for interpreting your music as queer. A young queer woman, who is an incredible journalist, got called ‘inappropriate’ and a liar on national news yesterday, because she picked up what you’re putting down in your music and wrote an article about it. An incredible article by the way, one that made us all feel seen and validated. And then you’re letting old white men on national television call that inappropriate and invasive. You may not have said those words, but you let them stand there uncommented, let your cultish fans think that their hero is offended by being presumed to be gay. You guessed it, that’s also not what an ally does. A marginalised group of your fans got DEATH THREATS in your name in the last 24 hours because we pick up on queer flagging in your art. And you did nothing. You handed our bullies weapons and left us to fend for ourselves. That is not a safe space for LGBTQ people. And for that reason, you’re losing me.

Because I have nothing to believe. Unless you actually choose me (and yourself for that matter). Just once.

Until then,

#lgbtq rights #lgbetty #friends of dorothea #I’m out for now #hope I can be back some day #but I need Taylor to show me why I should #i’m sorry #love our community #stay safe people

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hot-take-tournament · 10 months

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note: this take actually adresses some sensitive topics, including some that i didn't know how to tag, but may require content warnings - so just be careful

also, i had to post this early because for some reason tumblr kept deleting this specific post every time it was queued or saved as a draft

HOT TAKE TOURNAMENT

TOURNAMENT OVERTIME #182

Submission 527

the Barbie movie (2023) was horrible

[SUBMITTED JUSTIFICATION UNDER THE CUT - PLEASE READ]

Propaganda is encouraged!

Also, remember to reblog your favourite polls for exposure!

Submitted justification:

unfortunately this is a dead serious take of mine. that movie was a story of a horrible tragedy portrayed as justice. and the subtle violent radfem undertones were deeply uncomfortable. my reasons for disliking it are very complicated and personal, so I'm going to try and keep this brief and try to avoid saying anything too charged.

i understand liking it— it was a very fun movie! the way they did the practical effects and props and setting were all genius and very cool!

but.. the way they handled Ken and his struggles felt extremely minimizing, cruel, and violent. I've *been* the reject kid before. I *know* what that's like. I've been humiliated and degraded before for being too much, for having ADHD, for being autistic, for wanting to be included in friend groups that didn't want me.

ken's story is a *tragedy* of a person who dared to ask for love and inclusion, who dared to ask over and over until the only option left to him was to be made into a villain for it. and instead of realizing that maybe, just maybe, this was a cry for help... that maybe, this was the last straw in a long long long line of instances of horribly cruel social bullying and humiliation.... that maybe Ken never wanted to hurt anyone, that maybe he just wanted everyone to see how much he was hurting, that maybe he never wanted power or violence, but empathy instead.... instead of considering any of at, the movie has Barbie and her friends *laugh* at his suffering, and watch him on the brink of tears with the grim satisfaction of a bully that got away with it.

i came away from this movie thinking, what should Ken have done better to avoid this? what could he have done to be truly accepted? what was the "good" choice, if what he actually chose was actually so evil?

and the answer is, nothing. he was spending his entire life serving and worshipping a group that wanted him quiet, polite, and dead. from personal experience, this is the kind of friend group that would probably find it at best a personal irritant, if he had attempted suicide.

this movie was so hurtful. it really felt like they said "people like you are better off dead or behaving like perfect mindless dolls, because when you try to get what you want, you just bother the people around you." conform or else.

i know people get icky when people claim that misandry exists, but.... consider the plot of this same movie, if ken had been one of barbie's girl friends. or if ken had been a trans girl. or hell, even a trans girl egg. i just see people only praising this movie and... no one seems to acknowledge how unnecessarily, brutally cruel they were to Ken, and how little empathy he received both from the general audience and from the writers and Barbie herself.

#barbie #hot take tournament #barbie 2023 #the barbie movie #barbie spoilers #barbie movie 2023 #barbie the movie #tournament poll #tumblr poll #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #unpopular opinion #hot take #barbie movie #hot take overtime #cw suicide #ken #barbie ken

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random-introverted-blog · 5 months

Text

His Star - His Queen [Chapter 5 - A Lesson in Submission]

The first of many...

Summary: Perhaps you push your defiance a bit too far. Perhaps it would have been wiser to be more tactful with your behavior.

Perhaps this was only a matter of time.

Link to the Tumblr Chapter Index

Want the uncut/uncensored version? - Read it on AO3

Warning/Advisories: -Noncon elements - A ripped nightdress and noncon roaming hands on bare skin (He warned you in Chapter 1)

HI TUMBLR, THIS IS FOR YOU: The graphic scene was cut from this version because I'm not comfortable having an SA scene left hanging on my blog. If you want to read the GRAPHIC, UNCENSORED AND UNCUT SCENE - the link to the AO3 version is above.

-Emotional manipulation

-Forced pleasure

-Generally creepy dialogue (chapter 4 ramped up to 11)

-You fro up and have a relatively realistic response to being assaulted

-There's a party happening down there and you're fiancé isn't letting you participate

A/N: Sorry guys, I'm sure there's other people who have written and posted something like this on tumblr before but that ain't for me. But I worked like a dog to get this chapter written and edited. It's as good as I can get without tearing my hair out [Thank you, bestie for putting up with me, Astarion ain't even your mans]

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

For the rest of the walk, you couldn't help but notice the curious stares you were catching from the servants and patrolling guards. Though the latter seemed less perplexed, the former looked between you and the Ascendant like you had two heads and noodles for hair. Worse, some of them seemed... jealous.

If you could tell there people to have some self respect, you would make a formal announcement where ever the Ascendant and his puppets make them. But at least for now, you need to try to behave.

Even the sound of the word makes your skin crawl.

When you reach the door to what you assume is Orchid Hall, a swirling darkness appears behind you before rapidly becoming a person. "Forgive the intrusion, your Almighty—"

"I said no interruptions, Ballar." Astarion bites, glaring at the tall and lanky elf man.

Ballar, hands clasped behind his back, bows his head. "I know better than to do so without reason, my Godking."

"Godking?" You echo, glaring at the Ascendant. "You're more conceited than I thought, and that's saying something."

His gaze hardens, firm. "You are still learning, it is only your first day. And I do not wish to discipline you on your first day, pet." He warns in a tone that is the farthest from your Astarion that you've heard. "An apology will suffice as suitable recompense this time." Straightening his posture and lifting his chin.

Oh, so that's a button for him. Is it because you're in front of people, or does he not like being called out on his bullshit? If he expects you to actually seek forgiveness, then you suppose the both of you are in for a surprise.

The Ascendant studies your expression and seems to realize you have no intention of indulging him. With a deep groan bordering on a growl, he looks away. "Much as I love you and your strength of will, there is a time to exert it and a time to submit to your husband-to-be. And it seems to be a lesson I will need to have with you sooner rather than later."

He turns to Malacai, his arm raised in a familiar gesture that reaches above his navel. "Take my fiancé inside and guide her along until I return." And just like that, he steps away with the tall elf, who simply acknowledges you with a respectful "Lady Ancunín" before following close behind his master.

"My lady, if I may," Malacai's mellow, velvety smooth voice says to grab your attention. For a brief moment you feel concern but whatever "lesson" he has in mind, but you let it go for now and turn to drag yourself through the doors. Precise and perfectly timed, Malacai opens and holds the door for you and flows smoothly into step behind you.

Until you come to an abrupt stop, and he immediately stops behind you.

For a moment, you're left bewildered and unsure how to interpret this. Some well armored guards in fancy armor stationed in the corners, sure. A long row of men and woman, of somewhat varying ages. None of them seem even close to their elderly years, but you also weren't very sure about how other races aged. Also, no gnomes. Or dwarfs. Halflings seemed to be the fewest in number. Elves, half-elves, tieflings, and humans made up the combined majority with some half orcs and dragonborns in between.

"Would my lady like an explanation of the task set before her?" Malacai asks beside you, his hands clasped behind his straightened back after you've had time to assess the row of people.

"Yes. Please." You nod once, not moving your eyes from the row, feeling mildly self conscious as they stare at you with half stifled confusion.

Malacai steps into your field of view but not in front of it. "Of course, my lady. His Almighty Majesty has gathered these offerings to be selected and chosen for your esteemed service. He would like you to personally choose a number of them, if it would please you."

Your eyes knit together. "Please me?" You query.

"If you deem the matter unsuitable or beneath you, His Majesty will respect your wishes and handle the matter himself."

"Now wait just a tick!" says a raised voice from the line and a quick scan of them quickly reveals a human, possibly in her mid thirties with light colored hair and wearing a broach of some kind. "I was told the sovereign himself would pick the servants, not some nobody prissy!" She glares at you, her words seemingly rallying some of the others to her cause...

The response surprises the both of you, and you're perfectly fine agreeing with them and taking your leave. Malacai is stunned, though - and anger flashes in his eyes. "You dare speak of—!"

"Yeah, who let the tramp trudge through the door?" Another woman sneers, some taking a threatening step or two in your direction.

"Look, I'm just—" But like Malacai, they're not interested in what you have to say. They want their sovereign and they're getting very loud about it.

And everything that follows occurs in a blur, leaving no time for a response. In a fit of rage, the woman flings her broach towards you. The pin connects with your cheek, piercing the skin. You instinctively flinch and reach for it, warm blood trickling down your face in a thin stream. The broach then tumbles to the floor, making a sharp clattering sound.

In an instant, the shadows swiftly converge in front of you from the dim corners of the room, swirling and twirling in a mesmerizing dance. Suddenly, they burst open, resembling a plume of smoke after an explosion. Gradually, the shadows recede, cascading like a heavy blanket, steadily taking the form of a humanoid figure, mirroring Him with its imposing stature that towered over the room and the presence of large, jagged wings. The cacophony of screams and cries emanates from the furious crowd, creating a dissonant symphony of fear.

The atmosphere was charged with tension, but as the creature surveyed the scene, it became clear that there was no genuine danger. The shadows slowly peeled back, unveiling the visage of a relatively normal, though gorgeous elf, with pale skin and a crown of curly white hair.

Unconcerned about the once angry mob, he diverts his attention to you, his grip on your chin steady as he meticulously observes every aspect of your face. He narrows his eyes and huffs through his nose upon assessing only the one scratch. With a silent command, he raises his hand, and the shadows immediately obey, darkening until his palm becomes an inky abyss. He then places it softly against your cheek.

Biting cold pierces through the air in front of you, like tiny needles pricking at your skin. The faint scent of winter frost drifts from his shadow shrouded hand, followed soon by subtle warmth as his magic seals the slight break, like a gentle caress. "Which one?" He asks no one specifically, as if searching for an answer that only the silence can provide.

Lacking any hesitation, the others shove the woman to the front, paying no mind to her feeble protests. Astarion doesn't look up right away. Instead, he slowly released his hand and carefully studied his work. The darkness slowly retreats from his palm, and he gently massages the area where the cut once was with his bare thumb.

At last he turns to the silent row of servants, and the woman in particular. "You dare to lay a finger upon the one who is destined to share my throne? How quaint." Astarion's sneer is filled with disdain, steadfastly holding his ground before you, almost protectively. The fury evident in his eyes.

The woman's face became a canvas of realization and horror as she desperately shook her head, attempting to retreat. Once more, Astarion raises his hand, and inky tendrils of shadow emerge, wrapping tightly around her and forcefully dragging her closer. "Oh no," he sneers, a malicious glint in his eyes, "you disgusting little worm, you're going nowhere." The threads coil around her, their grip tightening as she's forced to her knees before him.

Astarion's eyes meet yours as he turns to you, his hand reaching out to take yours, coaxing you to stand by his side. "Think of this as another chance for me to teach you something, darling." He steps aside, gently guiding you until you stand directly in front of her.

So she's kneeling before you.

"Now. Look upon this creature. What do you see?" The Ascendant asks, slowly circling behind the woman.

"Astarion—"

"Answer." He interjects sharply, bringing his open hand up and closing it. The woman winces as the dark strands around her constrict.

Despite your desire to save or spare the woman, make him stop or even just not take part in this, you begrudgingly accept you have to play along for now. You exhale deeply and look her over. Her eyes, red and swollen, were filled with tears that cascaded down her face and dripped off her jawline. She's sniveling, her shoulders shaking and voice quivering. Her breaths come in unsteady gasps, a sign she's teetering on the edge of a hysterical outburst.

It's a trick question. The real question is how much you really want to play his game? "I see a woman who didn't—"

"Wrong." The Ascendant scolds firmly, his reprimanding tone interrupting you as he leisurely strolls back to your side. "Before you kneels an insect. A pest. A creature fit only to serve however we desire."

"She didn't know who I was, Astarion," you argue, your voice filled with defiance. Turning to face him, a flicker of amusement dances across his face, challenging your statement. "Or rather, who you insist I am," you risked correcting, folding your arms resolutely over your chest.

A subtle change comes over Astarion as a hint of darkness flashes in Astarion's eyes, followed by a frustrated scoff. "Your denial will do you no favors, pet. Best you understand and accept your new life now and save us both the pain." There's something about the way he lowers his voice and the intensity in his eyes quells any retorts or defiance you could lash back with.

Clearly, he discerns your reaction from your facial expression and appears pleased with your compliance. He smooths his jacket and delicately grips your shoulders, redirecting you towards the woman. "Your natural inclination is to think of this creature empathetically. But you don't think twice if a fly crosses your ear one time too many." The Ascendant continues, his hands lingering on your shoulders. "Now, if the fly had been a mere nuisance, perhaps it could be ignored. But if it had bitten you? Harmed you...?"

"Please..." you mutter, your voice tinged with pleading. A sinking feeling manifests in your gut, already hating where this was going.

"Say the word, my consort." Astarion urges softly, his hands drifting to encircle his arms around your waist.

The urge in your blood knows exactly what it is being called to do. What's being offered. It would much rather your own hands be the ones tearing the wings off this insect. Gouging its pretty teary eyes from those fragile sockets. But you close your eyes, letting the world fade away as you concentrate on the calming rhythm of your breaths. Ironically, the smell of bergamot, rosemary, and the aroma of a frosty winter evening ground you. You find yourself instinctively leaning into him somewhat, seeking more of the comfort to hold the urge at bay.

When your eyes open, a tear or two rolls down your cheek, their journey ending on the dark blue sleeve of the Ascendant's tailcoat, creating small wet spots. The warmth of his breath flushes your ear as he sighs against it and he adjusts his arms to hold your back snug against his chest. "It was difficult for your old self too, the first couple of times..." He murmurs sympathetically, his lips brushing against your temple in a soft kiss. "Ballar."

At the sound of the uttered name, the tall elf materializes beside the two of you. "Very well, your Almighty Majesty." The elf nods with a respectful bow of his back before approaching the woman. His grip is firm as he clasps her arm tightly. Suddenly, a plume of dark smoke envelops them, obscuring their forms from sight. The air carries a faint, acrid scent as they vanish into the mysterious smoke, leaving you with an uneasy feeling. Whatever silent command was issued, maybe you don't want to know.

Astarion remains close to you for the rest of the... selection thing. There's an incident where one of the halfling girls tries begging you to choose her, which almost kicks off another dramatic mob, but Astarion is quick to shut it down.

Calling it uncomfortable would be an understatement. When you ask if there is a criteria or whatnot to follow, he almost literally dismisses you with a "pfft." It is only when he comprehends the seriousness of your question that he adds with a more compassionate tone, "whatever pleases you, my dear... but not all of them - there will be a wider selection after the festival."

Near the end you notice a young tiefling girl. Grey skinned with the shortest horns you'd ever seen. Astarion had indicated an interest in moving on from this, and his hand on your shoulder reminded you of it. But he didn't stop you from wandering over to her.

You recognized the look in her dark, fiery eyes. Not just desperation. Purpose. It wasn't anything you could put your finger on as you held each other's gaze. For better or worse, you were curious about what she felt so strongly about that led her here. Come to think of it, she wasn't involved in any of the earlier chaos. "What's your name?" You had asked the other ten or fewer this question as well, as you weren't fond of the idea that they'd be nameless creatures in your service.

Plus, you could tell Astarion disliked you were asking, and that was a nice incentive.

She held her head high and awkwardly held her arms behind her back. "Elowen, Lady Ancunín."

Behind you, the vampire lord let out an annoyed huff, clearly bothered by both your question and what you assumed was an improper way of addressing of you. You didn't care. "I'd welcome you if you'd like to accept the offer." You say, your attempt at a smile faltering.

Surprisingly, this is the first one you've talked to that reacts almost sympathetically. As if noticing how forced your gesture really is. Maybe even recognizing the dissonance between your genuine desires and everything that surrounds you. "It would be an honor to serve you... my lady." Elowen bows and quickly corrects herself when her eyes catch a glimpse of the vampire and Steward behind you.

"That will do for now, my sweet." Astarion's voice sounded from behind and gently tugged you away and encircled an arm around your waist. He snapped his fingers with his other hand and servants entered the room. They move with silent understanding. "Considering everything," he adds once you're near the door, "you did well."

Part of you is reminded of all his "lessons," including the one he hinted at earlier about the importance of submission. Dread finds a home in the pit of your stomach, making it heavy and uneasy. You don't really care to learn the intricacies of ruling, being his queen, or any of it. It won't matter in the end. Not when you get free of this place and return to your world, where the warmth and safety of your friends will make you feel whole again. And you will get free.

...won't you?

________________

Day in, day out, it was almost the same. Sometimes he'd tutor you himself, other times it was Malacai. There had been a considerable focus on etiquette and presenting oneself, which you could only assume had to do with this festival you had heard so much talk about.

They assured you that your confinement to this wing of the palace was not permanent. Once your engagement to the godking had been announced, there would be less need to hide you away. But for now, the Ascendant wanted your presence kept quiet.

You had seen little of the servants you picked several days ago. Malacai said they were undergoing a strict training regimen in preparing to serve a ruling sovereign.

An endless parade of seamstresses and shoemakers had trotted their way through the doors of the southwest wing. You weren't one to be dolled up or wear silly dresses to begin with, and this just deepened the feeling. But the Ascendant wanted you in a special outfit for the engagement and you were still beholden to what he wanted.

Not for long, you told yourself every day. This would not be your forever.

The seamstresses and shoemakers worked tirelessly and with no complaint at how difficult you made their lives, though the Ascendant had sat in a few times and tried to encourage you to be less resistant to some suggestions, though he was more involved in the design of your dress for the festival.

As for your interactions with him? They were surprisingly tame. At most, he would hug you. Press a sweet, lingering kiss to your cheek or peck your lips. Maybe at one point he kissed your neck, and his hands wandered. But never for long and never too far. Just enough, you were certain it was on his mind.

If you felt uncomfortable or instinctive recoiled, he wouldn't stop you from drawing away. He would smile a little, as if to say "you just need time" and that would be that.

You hadn't even slept in the same bed yet. He went to the royal bedchamber, and you tucked yourself into yours. It was a nightly routine for him to visit you before bed. Occasionally, your exchanges were filled with playful banter, but at other times, they took a confrontational turn or revolved around his plans for you. And he would always kiss you goodnight. Never on the lips. Like a fragile little princess.

"May I offer you more reading material, my beloved?" He asks upon entering your room, noticing you in your nightgown, an open book propped up on your knees.

To your surprise, he was there, and a part of you couldn't help but be taken aback. "Tomorrow is the big day. I thought you'd be too busy tonight." You comment with curiosity and reach for the glass of water on your bedside table.

The Ascendant huffs a soft laugh, the sound escaping like a gentle breeze. "Not too busy for you, no," he stated, a smile evident in his voice.

You sip your water, taking him in. Simple clothes. He seldom wears them, not even at this hour. It brings to mind his old camp clothes, though they appear less tattered. His black shirt clung tightly to his body, accentuating the contours of his sculpted chest. He wore dark brown pants so tight that they seemed to be painted on, leaving little room for comfort. As you set down your glass, the gentle tapping of rain against the window fills the room, setting the ideal mood for reading. "The bookcase in here is paltry to begin with."

He pauses, and the silence hangs heavy in the room, reverberating off the walls. Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpse his focused gaze, carefully assessing the size of the small bookcase. The scent of aged paper and polished wood lingers in the air, adding to the ambiance. "Hmm," he muses, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "Agreed. Would you like me to remedy it?" His question hangs in the air as he redirects his gaze back to you, waiting for your response.

It catches you off guard, although it shouldn't. "I want nothing from you." You mutter quietly, not interested in a verbal confrontation at this hour. "Unless it's letting me go home." Absentmindedly turning the page of your book, you caught a whiff of the musty scent of old pages.

It comes as no surprise that the suggestion causes the Ascendant to bristle with indignation. "You are home, pet." His firm reply echoes exactly as you anticipated.

He reaches across and effortlessly plucks the book from your grip, flinging it to the other end of the bed. Without missing a beat, his hand tenderly moves to hold your face. "Perhaps it's time you've learnt what home feels like." His voice dipped low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine, as if velvet caressed your ears.

Unable to think clearly, your mind is consumed by confusion as you struggle to understand his intentions. Searching his crimson eyes for a hint of the intent behind his words.

It dawns on you a second too late and your body becomes rigid and dread crashes over you like a tidal wave. "Lay back and hold still."

Right from the start, you find yourself wrestling against his orders, determined to regain control of your body. In the blink of an eye, he's on the bed, asserting his control as he positions himself on top of you, straddling your legs and keeping them trapped beneath him.

The overwhelming task of regaining control of your limbs leaves no space in your mind for insults. With a gentle yet firm grip, he tears your gown open, his lips finding their way to your jawline, leaving a trail of sweet kisses and teasing bites. Lowering his mouth along your neck, he senses the rapid throb of your pulse, a reflection of your panic. "Your scent is even more alluring than your other self," he whispers against your skin, his fangs appearing much sharper than your Astarion's, delicately grazing over your pulse. "I've waited over a century for you, my love... To find you..."

Before you have time to process any of what he just said, the ordinarily sharp, frigid piercing feeling now just feels like two tiny daggers of ice melting deep into your neck. But then the sharp sting of his fangs gives way, and you're left with a strangely soothing sensation that defies explanation. A calming tingle that dances across your senses and defies logic. It leaves you gasping for air, but the soothing caress of his hand in your hair seems to be an attempt to reassure you as he drinks deeply. Meanwhile, you begin to wiggle your toes, feeling a tingling sensation as you strive for control over your legs.

With a contented groan, he indulges in one last sip from you before withdrawing and gently lapping at your weeping wound until it ceases to yield any more to his palate. The scent of your blood lingers, mingling with the heady aroma of bergamot and rosemary and frost, his increasingly familiar presence all creating a bewildering blend to your senses. "Exquisite... Even better, I could scarcely believe it a possibility." The Ascendant muses quietly as his hands explore the curves and contours of your vulnerable body, tracing every line and curve with a mix of curiosity and desire.

He hastily grabs his shirt, yanking it over his head as impatience fuels his movements. He swiftly pulls off his pants in two motions. Just then, you feel a tingling sensation as your right leg awakens, granting you unrestricted movement.

You jab your foot at his chest, and you can feel the strength and power in his grip as he effortlessly catches it. With a firm yet gentle grip, his hand closes around your ankle, arching an eyebrow in intrigue and amusement. "Impressive..." The Ascendant remarks. "I may need to use stronger charms on you already."

As his words resonated in the air, he appeared to be contemplating them aloud, while his fingertips traced the smooth surface of the gold and silver band that snugly encircled your ankle, emphasizing the sense of captivity within this elegant prison. You question if his attention on it is to underscore your status as his possession or if he's simply delighting in the knowledge that you belong to him.

Until you find a way out of here. You have to find a way out...

Releasing your foot, he deftly flicks his wrist, conjuring a shadowy tether that extends from the shackle and secures itself to the bedpost.

"Don't fight this, my treasure." The Ascendant murmurs. With a slow, deliberate movement, he delicately hooks his knee under your left leg, guiding your body to open itself wider to him, causing a shiver to cascade through your body. "Once you experience how pleasurable submission to me can be, you'll hardly fathom you resisted me at all." His words, laced with a velvety purr, penetrate your senses, capturing your attention completely.

The moment your hands regain their freedom, they shoot forward, eager to rake your nails across his bare chest. Yet, his reflexes outmatch yours as he quickly seizes your wrists, forcefully pinning them beside your head. "The Astarion I know and love values consent above all else." You finally hiss behind your teeth, hating the way your voice wavers. "He didn't need to force me down like this..."

"And he will never make you feel the way I can," smirks the Ascendant, his voice oozing with confidence and a seductive undertone.

"Now relax, little love..." Your senses ignite as a rigid, pulsating sensation grazes over your sensitive nub...

And he teaches you a lesson you won't be so merciful to forget...

______________________

You nuzzle closer to the warmth rather than open your eyes, encouraged by the soothing touch of fingers in your hair. Gods, you could lay here forever. When was the last time you slept this well? With...

The thought dies off, and you tentatively peel your eyes open. Dread sits in your stomach as you realize your position. Practically laying on top of a naked Ascendant. "Good morning, darling." He purrs, his fingers gently tangling in your hair, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I've had a warm bathe prepared, ready for you to immerse your beautifully bare skin whenever you desire."

As you move, you realize just how sorely your body aches. There's a dull pain between your legs and your cheeks flush faintly remembering how... immense he felt last night. Mercifully, he pretends not to notice as you fall limp against him. An around you didn't realize was around your back tightens some as you press closer, his hand and fingers stroking gentle patterns on the smooth expanse of your skin. "You said something last night," your voice hoarse and dry as you speak, "about waiting over a century." Turning your head on his sculpted chest to meet his scarlet eyes.

Behind his lips, a subtle hum escapes, reminiscent of soft laughter, as he tilts his head to one side. "Well, your other self didn't abandon me yesterday." He murmurs, petting your hair. "Finding you, acquiring the means to reach you, to bring you here. It didn't all happen in an evening." Something about his choice of words unsettles you. More than just finding out the Other You died one hundred and fifty years ago.

His fingers lifting your chin, guiding your lips to his. You don't fight it; you know better. Not now. Not when you're naked in the same bed as him. Vulnerable... "As much as I'd like to remain here, savoring the morning of our first lovemaking with you, there is much to be done before the festival tonight."

"That's what you think it was?" The words fall off your tongue before you can think better of them.

The Ascendant pulls back just enough to see both your eyes clearly, almost searching them. "What else could it be?" The words soft, warm. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing. You don't fail to note the serrated teeth laced along them. He's daring you to challenge him...

Silence is your only answer. And that seems enough to satisfy Astarion's quiet annoyance with you.

He presses a tender, lingering kiss to your lips and you reciprocate despite the knot it creates in your gut. Only risking to remember your Astarion after he's pulled away and carefully guided you off of him to slip out from the covers and leave the bed. Curiously, he wanders over to an armoire you've never touched and when he opens it you see tailcoats, doublets, jackets, dressy shirts with ruffled sleeves and collars... He's been keeping a spare change of clothes in your room the whole time. "I'm going to bathe separately, otherwise nothing will get done..." The Ascendant explains to your unspoken confusion. With that, he dresses himself, regards you with a brief smile and leaves the room.

Just like that, you're alone with yourself. Nearly overwhelmed with a deep loathing for your own flesh. Every fibre of your being recoils in disgust. The repulsion extends beyond the surface, rooted deep within your very core. The weight of despair anchors you to the bed, but a desperate urgency propels you towards the shower, disregarding the searing ache between your legs.

Frantically, your hands vigorously scrub at your body, the harsh friction against your skin amplifying the turmoil in your stomach. The memories of last night assault your mind relentlessly, like a relentless storm. The room feels suffocating, the air thick with the scent of regret and desperation. How could you have surrendered so easily? Disappointment settles upon you, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you reflect on your lack of determination. Does your Astarion mean nothing to you? Doubt seeps into your thoughts, questioning your own abilities, your own worth. Is it because deep down, unknown to you, you fear you can't escape on your own?

Will he even want you back after this? Gods, it's like you barely put up a fight against the bastard. All he had to do was climb on top of you and...

Abruptly, you jerk your head over the side of the bath, the sensation of nausea overwhelming you as your stomach empties, contents spilling onto the pristine white tile.

Then you allowed yourself to go completely slack, feeling the edge dig into your ribs you as you fell onto it. Warm tears cascaded down your cheeks, blending with the fluid pooling on the floor.

The first sob wracks your body not long after...

__________

Whatever happened to a good pair of pants? Whose idea was it that all the fancy ladies should wear dresses most of the time? And why in the hells are you considered a fancy lady? You never wanted to be such a thing. A nice, quiet ocean side home was probably the closest to "fancy" you'd ever choose for yourself.

But that's the keyword, isn't it? You didn't choose this for yourself...

Soft hands touch yours, causing you to retract your hand swiftly. "Leave my nails out of this." You hiss at whichever servant girl made the attempt on your fingers.

Through an instinctive wince at the comb in your hair, your eyes catch the sight of dark and fiery eyes as the tiefling kneels beside you. "Forgive me, Lady Ancunín. I promise I will only tidy them up." She smiles, and it almost feels comforting. True to her word, she simply files them down to a clean, round shape. Cleaning the dirt from underneath. She was one of the few servants from the ones you chose in the room with you. Astarion chose the others with precision, carefully assigning them the duty of taking care of you and making sure you were prepared for the evening. And as they incessantly fussed over, brushed, and prodded you, they were steadily making you want to gouge your eyes out in frustration.

However, this tiefling and the one or two others you picked that were here with you carried themselves differently, and it wasn't just because they were untrained. As they tended to you, you were fairly certain that Malacai's critical observations of their work had nothing to do with it.

"Elowen, isn't it?" You ask, free from Astarion's constant shadow to treat these poor girls like people. As you speak, a gentle breeze brushes your skin from the open window, carrying with it the scent of blooming flowers. The knowledge of your time spent with Malacai reassures you he wasn't one who would readily report you for such minor infractions.

Meeting your gaze, the tiefling's eyes held a subtle surprise. At a loss for words, she quickly recovered and graced you with yet another lovely smile. "Thank you." The words are sincere from your heart.

Something passes fleetingly across her face, and even in that momentary glimpse, you recognize what it is.

Understanding. How wonderful it feels to be seen as a person.

Not long afterward, the servants finish your hair - and you can feel the weightless, silky strands falling into place with gentle waves. The custom designed, elegant blue dress, with its delicate silver swirls and leaf embroidery on the shoulders and collar, fell just short of your ankles, exuding an air of grace.

Deep brown ankle-high shoes, crafted with precision, expertly concealed the shackle from prying eyes. Although you couldn't discern their exact material, their undeniable comfort put a smile on your face. These shoes were the only item you took the time to specify to the shoemaker, and they certainly didn't disappoint. Honestly, you did like these.

To your relief, Astarion did not insist that the seamstress design a low neckline for the gown. It revealed only the slightest tease of your cleavage. Sure, it was because he wanted to be the only one who delighted in the view of your body, visually and... otherwise. But even that you were thankful for somewhat. Anything to escape the feeling of being a prized possession on exhibition.

A feeling that intensifies as you follow Malacai through the door to exit the wing of the palace you've been imprisoned in. You thought the stares in there were bad, but this was even worse. And shameless. Whispers, like delicate feathers, brush against your ears. Carrying snippets of conversations, questioning your identity, as you pass by servants and what you assumed were guests as your personal steward escorted you through unfamiliar halls. The walls themselves emanate a feeling of grandeur tinged with a touch of uneasiness. The cool marble floors beneath your feet seem to magnify the restlessness in the atmosphere.

Two towering guards, adorned in gleaming silver armor, stand resolutely on either side of a magnificent pair of double doors. Painted in pristine white and adorned with intricate gold trim. As you and Malacai draw near, the guards gracefully swing the doors open, revealing a grand entrance, their movement accompanied by a faint creaking sound. A rush of cool air, tinged with a hint of polished brass, mahogany and fresh baked goods, greets you as you step into the grand foyer beyond. However, amidst their dutiful actions, the guards' piercing gazes linger on you, filled with a mix of curiosity and intrigue.

Suddenly, you're amidst a throng of people, the sounds of chatter and footsteps filling the air, with Malacai constantly by your side, ushering you towards a grand-looking dais or platform. The Ascendant, dressed in a white ensemble with subtle blue undertones to complement your dress, stands with regal poise before you, their tailcoat embellished with ornate golden clasps and perfectly tailored dress pants. Overlooking his guests. He exudes an ethereal charm, radiating a sense of divinity , his very being demanding reverence and awe from all who have the privilege to lay eyes on him.

Observing your approach, he instinctively takes two steps down and extends his hand towards you. The touch of his hand sends a warm sensation through your palm as he tenderly interlocks your fingers and gently draws you towards him, a playful smile on his lips. "Beautiful as always, my treasure." The Ascendant croons.

Your body tenses up as you catch sight of the two thrones behind him, trying to resist the urge to shudder.

"All silence for the Godking's address!" A thunderous voice demands, echoing with power and authority, resonating through the grand hall. The sheer force of it makes your heart skip a beat, but you steel yourself, resisting the temptation to flinch or recoil.

All eyes obediently fixate on the Ascendant as commanded, but yours cannot help but wander from face to face. Equally curious about you as servants were in the halls. Still, this is your first time being exposed to others outside of the palace staff and Ascendant, and despite feeling petrified by the sudden spotlight, you refuse to lose sight of what truly matters. Gathering and understanding what you can of this nightmarish realm you're trapped in.

First you note the tables spread throughout the grand hall with glasses, plates, pitchers, and kegs. The next thing she noticed were the enormous, intricately designed doors, swung open wide to reveal the sprawling entrance hall of the palace.

"Don't worry," he reassures, his voice resonating with authority, the rich aroma of festival spiced wine and delicacies filling the air. "I only require a moment of your time before you can all return to indulging in the festivities." As he scanned the crowd, his eyes revealed his lack of concern, not bothering to commit any of the faces to memory.

"As you all are aware, this past century has proven trying on us. The loss of our cherished, beloved queen was felt all across the sword coast." Your feet itch to run, bolt down the steps, off the dais, through the doors and into the streets. Anywhere has to be better than here. "As you all are aware, this past century has proven trying on us. The profound loss of our cherished, beloved queen was felt deeply across the sword coast." Your restless feet itch to run, to bolt down the grand steps, off the elevated dais, through the ornate doors and into the bustling streets. The anticipation of escape lingers, whispering that anywhere would be preferable to remaining in this stifling place.

The presence of Malacai and the armored guards at the bottom of the dais, reminiscent of royal armor, created a sense of foreboding, emphasizing the how you wouldn't get very far. Your escape would be halted before it even began. "Many have offered themselves before me. Believing they could hold themselves worthy of her throne. Of her place at my side. Yet they all fell embarrassingly short. Women, men, dragonborns, devils... None could compare to my Queen-Consort."

You don't want to be here. You don't want to hear this. Childish as it sounds, you want to plug your fingers in your ears. Or better yet, wake up from this nightmare.

"Nobility of Baldur's Gate! Assembly of highborn men and women, venerable lords, and esteemed ladies of the realm!" The spacious hall reverberates with the resounding voice of the Ascendant, their words echoing with a sense of divine authority. Your gaze wanders and lands upon a procession of musicians, their elegant garments mirroring the grandeur of a royal court. In their grips, they hold instruments of music—trumpets that gleam like polished gold, reflecting the splendor of the occasion, and others of fine make—poised to announce the forthcoming proclamation. Your expression transforms, an eyebrow raising in a silent display of inquiry. Sure, he mentioned this, but you can't recall him explicitly confirming it with you.

"On this, the dawn of The Festival of Gratitude," he proclaims with a voice imbued with the gravity of his high station, summoning from all present a silent veneration that arrested the air itself. It was incredible the power he seemingly held over the masses... It frightened you. "May you find yourselves gratified by the announcement and esteemed company of my betrothed! My queen-to-be, in her resplendent grace!"

His arm enveloped your waist, drawing you in snugly against his side as the trumpets sounded. The touch is electric, sending a shiver down your spine, as you sense the power of his command and the depth of his devotion in his gaze.

And like that, the moment you've been dreading is upon you. Officially and formally engaged to this pale imitation of the man you love. The enormous throne room reverberated with the sound of cheers and applause, as all eyes turned to study you - some filled with surprise, others with intrigue, and some a mix of both.

Their Queen-to-be.

The Ascendant flashes a short wave and a nod before he turns to you. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" he said as he pulled you into a tight embrace, both arms encircling your waist now. "It's unfortunate we couldn't find the time for a brief speech from you as well. But there will be ample opportunities for that later," he continued. Again, he's talking at you. Your input seemed neither expected nor desired.

Frankly, you may be too shocked to offer any. Every day you wake up and tell yourself this isn't your new normal. Mastering all these ridiculous, fanciful manners and etiquette, learning how to conduct yourself as a "sovereign" doesn't matter. Because you're not staying here. You're going to get out. Find your Astarion, bury yourself in his comforting arms, and never let go again.

But every day, it feels less like a dream and more like an inescapable reality. The idea of escape seemed impossibly far away, like a distant star in the night sky. Your star... Your Astarion. Just the memory alone was enough to make your chest ache, as if it had been crushed into countless pieces. Between last night... and your formal engagement to the Vampire Ascendant, the monster wearing Astarion's face,

The feeling of hopelessness seeped in, dampening your once fiery desire for freedom.

His lips meet yours in a slow and gentle kiss, exuding tenderness and a faint sense of longing as your lips reciprocate mechanically. Not to say his kisses aren't intoxicating, but he wasn't your Astarion, and he'd never be...

When he pulls away, his hand on your back guides to toward the back of the dais...

To the thrones.

Trying to resist, you dig your feet in, but he effortlessly and subtly directs you towards the one on your left.

With a delighted smile that betrays a hint of determination, his grasp on your hand is gentle yet stern, coaxing you downwards. You struggle against it, but he eventually overpowers your resistance, and he manages to firmly seat you on the wretched thing that's haunted your nightmares. Reluctantly, you find yourself settled onto the grandiose throne, the velvet cushion enveloping you.

You feel your ankle snap to the base of the extravagant seat, a sickening sensation that you've grown accustomed to. Seated on the throne that has given you sleepless nights, he gazes at you with admiration. His smile hasn't left his face once. A contented grin played on his lips, evidence of his satisfaction with how well his plans for you were progressing.

The Ascendant lets out a soft, satisfied sigh as he settles onto his grand throne, the rich velvet cushions embracing his body. Beside you, the throne's extravagant carvings mesmerize your eyes with their intricate details, a testament to the majesty of his power. His strong arms rest leisurely on the throne's armrests, providing a sense of power and dominance. As he reaches out and gently clasps his hand around yours, you feel a warmth spreading through your fingertips, a tender connection formed. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, creating a delicate, soothing sensation that tingles across your skin.

And then you sit there. Together on a pair of overly fancy golden and velvet seats. Watching everyone else have some semblance of fun without you. A few guests cast their gaze up toward the two of you. The Ascendant and you find a sort of comfortable silence, observing the goings on of this festival together. You take note that his thumb finds interest with your ring finger, tracing it with his own digits. "Perhaps we can treat ourselves to this foolishness tomorrow, if you'd like," he suggests, his words laced with thoughtfulness, though he avoids meeting your eyes.

You struggle in vain to free your foot, feeling the frustration building with each futile attempt. Chained to the throne through invisible magic. "Behave yourself or we won't go at all." The Ascendant scolds quietly, indicating he saw your fruitless attempt to escape. You release a reluctant groan and recline in your seat, your free hand restlessly twiddling in your lap.

With little else to do, you try to study the variety of faces in the crowded throne room. Maybe you'll ask the Ascendant for a book if he's going to confine you to this stupid, overdone chair. The bustling crowd fades into the background as your heart races upon seeing those familiar crimson eyes. Do you dare trust yourself? Are you already teetering on the edge of madness, consumed by desperation? Would you even want him to see you like this? After what happened last night...?

The more you observe, the more you find yourself accepting the penetrating gaze of those eyes and the man behind them.

Gods above... Your Astarion...

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

A/N: We're probably jumping back to him next chapter, guys. It's actually been a kinda long time In-Story since we've seen him and Aric.

Once again, I thank everyone for their support and enjoyment of this little adventure of ours and I can't wait to share the rest with you. It's mindblowing to me and I'm still not over it.

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