#rings of power is atrocious

[ipsomaniac]

dialogue in Rings of Power is like

#lotr #rings of power is atrocious #the costumes. THE HAIRDOS OMG why do all the male elves have. SLICKED BACK QUIFFS. #galadriel's brother has a short back & sides english lad haircut #celebrimbor is some willy wonka-ass mofo #everyone is caked in visible makeup #the whole thing looks like an oversaturated videogame #and that's just the cosmetic shit... #most expensive budget TV i've ever seen #rings of power

[anti-rop]

but where does it say in the books fem presenting dwarves have beards

Where does it say it in the books? Okay, let's see (and this isn't even an exhaustive list of the textual proof of all Tolkien dwarves having beards).

Amazon has the rights to the appendices of LotR which includes this:

“It was said by Gimli that there are few dwarf-women, probably no more than a third of the whole people. They seldom walk abroad except at great need. They are in voice and appearance, and in garb if they must go on a journey, so like to the dwarf-men that the eyes and ears of other peoples cannot tell them apart. This has given rise to the foolish opinion among Men that there are no dwarf-women, and that the Dwarves ‘grow out of stone” (Durin’s Folk, LotR Appendix A).

And from the Histories of Middle Earth (Amazon does not have the rights to the Histories) but it is still evidence of Tolkien's intent for female dwarves to have beards:

“The Naugrim were ever, as they still remain, short and squat in stature; they were deep-breasted, strong in the arm, and stout in the leg, and their beards were long. Indeed this strangeness they have that no Man nor Elf has ever seen a beardless Dwarf - unless he were shaven in mockery, and would then be more like to die of shame than of many other hurts that to us would seem more deadly. For the Naugrim have beards from the beginning of their lives, male and female alike; nor indeed can their womenkind be discerned by those of other race, be it in feature or in gait or in voice, nor in any wise save this: that they go not to war, and seldom save at direst need issue from their deep bowers and halls. It is said, also, that their womenkind are few, and that save their kings and chieftains few Dwarves ever wed; wherefore their race multiplied slowly, and now is dwindling” (Concerning Dwarves, The History of Middle Earth vol. 11). 

The only way you can tell male and female dwarves apart is by the fact female dwarves do not go to war.

If they [Amazon] want to argue faint sideburns are enough to count as a bearded dwarrowdam in a society that places a high value on the length of beards to the point where they would rather die than be shaven, then I would call them cowards.

I've heard people use the argument of the design of the dwarves in the Hobbit to justify short beards and while I do not wish to come back often to previous adaptations, especially those by Peter Jackson when speaking about Rings of Power, at least the choice to have a prominent character like Thorin Oakenshield wear a shorter beard is consistent with Tolkien’s other writings.

Here is what Richard Armitage says about it: 

“I needed to find a reason for this and when I read Thorin’s account of how when his grandfather and father, Thrór and Thráin, came out of the lonely mountain after the attack by Smaug the dragon, they had singed beards. This gave me the solution: he has his beard cut short, as a mark of respect to the indignity suffered by them. Perhaps if he ever gets to sit on his throne again as king he’ll grow a big old beard and tuck it into his belt, just like Tolkien wanted!” (from The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Official Movie Guide)

This choice of ‘mourning ritual’ can be backed up in the appendices:

“Such was the tale that Nár brought back to Thráin; and when he had wept and torn his beard he fell silent. Seven days he sat and said no word” (Durin’s Folk, LotR Appendix A).

There is no reason a dwarvish princess should not have a full beard other than to conform to modern society's idea of gendered appearances, which arguably, were not important among Tolkien’s dwarves considering males and females are said to look identical. 

You can read more about my thoughts on the show and lore (including bearded female dwarves) here.

#ask #answered #Rings of Power #Amazon LotR #Lord of the Rings: Rings of Power #Lord of the Rings #Reject The Rings of Power #anti Rings of Power #mine #yes dwarrowdams have beards #BEARDS #Disa not having a beard or some hairy ass legs makes just as much sense as Khazad-dûm having a shit ton of greenery UNDERGROUND #gods everything about this show is atrocious #its like they didnt even read the material they did get the rights for

[eosofspades]

killing and biting and maiming and killing and

#trop #anti trop #the rings of power #everything ive ever learned about this show has been against my will and everything ive ever learned about this show has confirmed why #like this is atrocious. im frothing at the mouth im so mad about this #mine

[disorentedfae]

Srry my hatred for Amazon’s rings of power grows everyday

#amazon rings of power #the rings of power #the atrocious show

[kyber-kisses]

It’s really fucking sad that there are so many people out there that refuse to watch Rings of Power due to the length of the elves hair. Do you realize how stupid that sounds?

#it’s not about the hair! #sure it’s not the same as what we are used to to #but that doesn’t mean it’s the most atrocious thing to ever happen #y’all need to take some chill pills #the rings of power

[balebeingbale]

Watched the two available episodes of Rings of Power. Now going back to Sandman.

#rings of power #elves' haircuts are atrocious

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH45

Slumber party!

Fair, but consider: She deserves a little murder. As a treat.

Kabru be like "IS THAT MY BACKSTORY???"

That sure is....a ship. With no one on it.

Ah, shit the Americans are here.

Two things: Toshiro being tended to like a pretty pretty princess is hilarious.

And also, the fact that they think the elves can kill Falin......... hmmm.... Pressing X to doubt.

............... oh. Laios. 😂

But also like. How was he MEANT to keep it silent? Put a little something in it? I thought since it was a magic bell you could code it to only ring when it's shaken with INTENT?

Fancy ass house.

Also, Namari...........are you hitting that yet? Both of that?

Oh, it's backstory time.

Okay one: that's fucking tragic, it sounds like the Elves are just forcing the dungeons closed with no regard for how the ecosystem compensates and what people suffer by being in close proximity......

And another thing: Kabru. Kabru, isn't that what YOU'RE after? Having all the power?

Why is this so much like that one meme where the girls at the party are looking at you.

It's the same picture.

Kabru that's. That's maybe not the way to go about it. you're going to give them MORE reasons to go in.

Nevermind the governor not being into this 'good boy, now sign' talk, Toshiro's kinda right. Ya fucked up Kabru.

No matter how far Laios runs, he cannot escape other people trying to tell him how to live his life. Poor guy. But at the same time...

Is this real? Or a red herring?

Laios' father and mother seemed to be living relatively pious lives. They clearly had a good house, but it didn't seem like they were extremely rich. Then again, perhaps he's just a cousin of royalty? Is that why his parents wanted him to have children?

They want to.... halt the growth of the dungeon? Is this another part of the natural ecosystem of things? Dungeons growing seems to point even more towards the idea that it's a gigantic, fleshpit-like creature instead of simply a construct.

Then again, constructs CAN be creatures. Like the golems.

Elves not understanding how old humans are continues to be hilarious because like.

As humans, we HAVE this same concept of variant aging. Like. Dogs. We understand that dogs live less than us, and mature a lot slower. But this is.... COMMON KNOWLEDGE. Most people do not make it into adulthood without understanding that dogs mature within 1-2 years of their birth.

The fact that elves, a species with FAR more time on their hands, who have lived alongside other races for AGES....... have STILL not got the general concept of aging down....means their education is atrocious. Or they're all not paying attention.

.......this. THIS is the most fascinating concept in this chapter.

The fallen.... turned into MONSTERS.

We know that dying inside the dungeon doesn't mean permanent death. But dying above-ground does.

We know that dying in the dungeon doesn't mean your body turns into a monster (aside from ghosts and ghouls?) ..... but dying aboveground.... DOES......?

WHAT'S THE TRUTH.

👁👁

Hm.

If Kabru and Laios fused, they could almost make one functioning human being.

Senshi just beginning to speak in the middle of his own internal monologue is so real.

...... what's going on there with the expression, buddy?

Bread.......are they STILL carrying around flour with them?! How are they getting bread?!

Also, it's awesome that the eggs are canonically hard to crack, because it makes sense that they don't break during their many fighting events.

Izutsumi really said ◉_◉

Don't tell me Laios, who is sensitive to ghosts has ALSO been seeing things?

Not gonna lie, that's highkey terrifying.

Props to that ghost that's been following Laios around, not ever giving up hope that it can bother him into acknowledging it.

And also - hey, it already saved them once! that means it's probably not evil!

That, or it's the king of the bloody dungeon. Wouldn't that be something!

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #dungeon meshi liveblog #chekhov reads dungeon meshi

[attollogame]

hi! i went to look for physical descriptions of the ROs but the link isn’t working. is there an alternative link?

No but I can help you here!

Pariah

Pariah is 5’5” with an athletic build to their body, mostly honed from all of the physical exertion their night job requires. Most often they wear riding gear (leather jacket, cargo pants, biker boots; basically attire appropriate for someone who rides high-speeds on a motorcycle) with a black motorcycle helmet that has red lights within it. The helmet is modified to allow Pariah to discern things at night, and also to withstand Pariah’s own powered abilities. Pariah also carries two sickles strapped at their waist. Their powered ability is shadow manipulation.

Without the helmet, they have short cut curly brown hair, tanned skin, brown eyes, and a scar on their chin. Here’s an excellent visual of them drawn by the talented @phanosis !

Vasilisa

Vasilisa stands at about 5’11” with another athletic build to her body, again honed by her career as a detective for the C.A.P.D. She usually wears a white dress shirt rolled up at the sleeves, black jeans, timberland boots (closest I can describe them) and on occasion will have a black blazer on. Very often seen with a coffee in hand because her sleep schedule is as atrocious as anyone’s in Attollo. Her powered ability is emotion manipulation. 

Vasilisa has blonde hair she keeps tied back, pale skin, and blue eyes. She has a beauty spot under her one eye. Here’s an excellent visual of her drawn by the talented @exotic-inquiry !

Suha

Suha stands at 5’8” with a softer build. Her employment as a judge for the Crowes Court and her role in her own fashion business often keeps her quite preoccupied and on the go. Suha is a Muslim, and therefore wears a hijab. Her role in fashion means she dresses incredibly well, often preferring higher-brand clothes lines that are both comfortable and befitting of her personality. She prefers lighter colored clothes, as it contrasts the gloom of Attollo, even though her personality itself is quite serious. Suha’s powered ability is botakinesis, or plant manipulation. 

Suha wears cat-eyed glasses and has dark skin and brown eyes. Here’s a stunning drawing of her done by the talented @artsyaprilmr !

Operator

Operator stands at 5’7” and has a very lean build coming from his amazing ability to forget to eat half the time. He’s rarely seen without his black face mask and blue tech glasses, which enable him to see the ongoing of the city even when mobile. He usually wears a black turtleneck and black jeans, as well as sneakers that should really be changed in at some point. He does wear gloves as well when outside of his dwelling in the Under City. Operator’s powered ability is tech manipulation… among other things.

He has auburn curly hair and blue eyes beneath the glasses, as well as pale skin. @exotic-inquiry also did some lovely art of him (he is a little guy) !

Sysba

Because Sysba is gender selectable, their appearance does tend to change depending on which you select, although not by much. Overall, though, Sysba is a very flamboyant being that dresses in a way they feel expresses themself best. They stand at 6’ all forms, with a toned form they somehow managed to retain despite their disastrous eating habits. They prefer colours like red, black, or white for what they wear, and they prefer fabrics like satin, velvet, or silk. Sysba often wears heels for the benefit of standing an extra few inches above everyone else. They also indulge with a lot of jewellery, including necklaces, earrings, nose rings, etc. Because they are an entity, their powers extend far beyond what most do; shape shifting, manipulation, and power absorption are a few of their abilities. If they could get out of Attollo, they would be travelling quite swiftly too. 

In all forms, their hair is black, their eyes are black, and their skin is a very sickly pale color. In male form, Sysba has short cut hair, in female form it comes in the form of a bob cut, and in the non binary form it’s short cut as well. The very talented @retconomics has art of them here, @phanosis was generous enough to draw them in their more ‘natural’ form, and @redjack even kindly made a 3d model!

DW

Standing at 6’4” with a more built tone, one could say, due to his line of work (you don’t run a criminal organization without some intimidation on the side). Dreamwalker dresses very business-like in all aspects of his arrival, including in the dreams (although he did play dress up for those because it was fun for him). He prefers dark dress shirts, dress pants, and well-polished dress shoes. He wears a signet ring on his right hand. His powered ability includes dream manipulation and an ability to directly harm a sleeping individual through their dream, as seen with MC. He usually warps his features in dreams to make him indiscernible. On occasion, he wears a red scarf when not wearing a high collared shirt. 

Dreamwalker has dark brown, almost black hair with a slight curl to it. His eyes are a glowing gold with no discernible pupil unless you’re very close, in which case you will see it as a darker yellow color. He has a notable scar on his neck from a knife wound, and dark skin. The talented @bleruh drew art of him here (check out their operator as well!), as did @retconomics here and @/kill-a13 here among many others :)

#RO #hope that helps ik a lot of people have been asking #will update the link to make it to this ask

[sophiethewitch1]

On a little power trip rn but imma say it for Tim it's no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponent al, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, ben over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick quaking, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth clenching, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravitv defving. nail biting. sweatv. feet kicking can't take much more of this", breaths getting quicker, twitching, throbbing, eyes shut, lip biting, edging begging for relief, warm hot rush bubbling up, spit upon the tongue twisting ground tip-talking against the mouth, sideways spit from the end and lick from the bottom to the top then spit and lick to the bottom, deepthroating, thrusting slower then faster, faster, FASTER twisting mouth around each side, spiritually enlightening, chakra aligning, golden light like a halo, noise from the very edge of his throat for the final, HIROSHIMA ATOMIC BOMB ASS hardest release ever🥺

well. i can at least say you match each others enthusiasm

#sophie speaks #sophie answers #moots #cyb3rd0g #tw nsft #tw long post #LMFAO #im kidding you still cant match him #you definitely made a good effort for it tho! #hes very impressed #heart eyes and all

[asidian]

AU where the tadpole has... fewer positive side-effects for Astarion. It still blocks Cazador, and he doesn't die of sunlight exposure the moment he leaves the Nautiloid, but the other drawbacks of vampirism are still very much present. (Inspired by my own early-playthrough refusal to have Shadowheart Turn Undead, because I genuinely expected it to affect Astarion too)

FIVE FUN FACTS about this AU:

Astarion gets outed as a vampire early, in that very first dungeon with the skeleton, when Shadowheart Turns Undead and Astarion does not mix well with holy power, actually. He has a bad time; she refuses to apologize, afterward, because how was she supposed to know if he didn't bother to tell anyone?

Huffy Astarion outside the gate to the Grove, tapping his foot and waiting for someone to invite him in

They know about the running water thing but figure it's a rumor, because Astarion is hopping across rocks in the creek to get to the other side just fine? Turns out "can't cross running water" and "running water burns like acid" are two very different sides of the same coin, and they have to fish a badly burned vampire out of the stream after a misstep when he's too tired to be quite as light on his feet as usual

Stop cooking with garlic, Gale, SOME of us have INTOLERANCES and the smell is ATROCIOUS

Why are all of the good rings silver. He just wanted the ring with Misty Step :(

#bg3

[roguishcat]

Conversations with a vampire - part 4/10

Summary: A story told through a series of conversations between Astarion and child Tav, tracing the slow and steady progress of trust and friendship.

Humor/Friendship/Angst

Rating: Teen. Mild language, mentions of abuse in later chapters, some violence.

Setting: Set before the events of the game.

There was a chill in the air and evenings were turning colder, seasons changing with slow grace, first leaves falling and scattering on the ground in a multitude of colors. Astarion started wearing his doublet more, his usual shirt being too light for this time of the year. That is, it would be if he could feel the cold. He supposed that was one of the few perks of his current state.

Tav was autumn personified, wearing an ankle-length coat in shades of bright amber with a brown fur collar which she left unbuttoned, revealing a shirt and trouser ensemble of a lighter shade that matched her leather boots. Her hair was in a low braid with shimmering golden threads woven along the tresses.

“You know, it’s the first time I see you wearing something other than that frilly shirt,” she commented, throwing a pretty sparkly ring into the air, and snatching it quickly before the trinket hit the ground. “You look nice.”

“Well thank you, not that your opinion was wanted or needed,” Astarion rolled his eyes. He didn’t need Tav to know he looked good, though he didn’t mind being admired by all. The doublet was beautiful, although the golden embroidery was a pain to look after. Not all his conquest were gentle when handling him and his clothes had a fair share of wear and tear. He took care of the little he had meticulously and carefully, as Cazador did not see it fit to give the spawn any more than bare minimum.

Yet, flattery would really get people everywhere and his mood was decidedly better now than it was before he set out for the night. Thus, assured of his good looks, Astarion strolled down the street with unhurried steps, keen eyes observing those he passed by. They passed the potion shop and were nearing Wyrm’s Rock. There were more people around for this time of night and not the usual crowd too. Families, children, young couples, their excitement for the fireworks display in celebration of the grand re-opening of Felogyr's Fireworks so palpable he could almost taste it.

“I just don’t understand why you don’t just come and work in Sharess’ Caress, with your looks you could make tons, tons!” she gesticulated wildly in her excitement to show just how astronomical his earnings would be. “And then you could have everything you wish to have, which whoever it is that you work for doesn’t provide. Mamzell Amira is not exactly nice, but she treats everyone well enough, better than you get treated clearly. I am sure-”

“I don’t need your advice. Or your pity,” he spat, cutting Tav off sharply. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Find another charity case if that’s what you are after.”

Tav frowned but did not flinch or move away. She was used to adults having little patience when dealing with her, perhaps understandably. She did go on and on sometimes. Besides, she had her suspicions about Astarion for a while now, and she knew the defeated look of a person who had no power to make their own choices and hated it. It was useless to pry, for now.

“Sorry, that was wrong of me to say that. It wasn’t meant to be pity. I really do say the dumbest things, don’t I?”

Astarion sighed, a little annoyed at himself for this display of emotion. Yes, she was an insensitive, intrusive little idiot, but she did it out of some feeling of misplaced kindness. And whilst he did not necessarily need her kindness, it was quite refreshing to talk to someone who wanted to converse just for the sake of it.

“Well, I guess it can’t be helped,” he brushed his fingers through his silver curls, “your atrocious lack of manners is especially obvious today, that’s all. You should really work on that.”

“Maybe. But at least I’m trying. Wouldn’t hurt you to be nicer, you know. Once in a while,” Tav said petulantly.

“And it wouldn’t hurt me to be less nice, so your point is moot,” he countered.

“Oooh, someone is in a bad mood. Fine, I’ll shut up,” she huffed and turned away, seemingly determined to show that she was upset.

That lasted for a grand total of two minutes before Tav started fidgeting and shooting furtive looks his way.

“Want me to do your nails then? It is party tonight, after all. I have everything with me. Polishes and all,” she asked hopefully.

Apparently, it was physically impossible for the girl to be quiet.

“No.”

“Aw, come on!” she whined in a most aggravating way. “You have beautiful hands! Like the bard with the lyre that played at Sharess’ the other night.”

“Well, I do know which strings to pluck to make everyone sing for me.”

The innuendo went completely over her head.

“So, is that a yes on the nails?”

“Still no.”

She pouted but did not insist anymore.

“The human delivery boy who brings the groceries to Sharess’ Caress asked me to go watch the fireworks with him tonight.”

“Oh?” He looked at her with his eyebrows raised. “Sounds like somebody’s got a date.”

“Eww, gross” Tav scrunched her nose at the suggestion. “He is a year older, but so juvenile for thirteen,” she said, clearly unimpressed with whatever the boy did to try to get her attention.

“Because clearly you are a picture of wisdom and maturity,” Astarion quipped.

“Well, maybe not,” she agreed, “but kids my age are boring. They see one gash on my leg, perhaps bleeding too much and maybe there was a bit of bone sticking out, I admit, and just faint! Wimps,” she scoffed haughtily.

“Not everyone has the devil-may-care attitude you do, it seems.”

“Exactly! And why would I want to hang out with someone bland and boring like that? They won’t be able to keep up.”

“Which is probably a good thing for them, as they clearly have a sense of self-preservation, and you don’t.”

“Whatever,” she smiled, apparently choosing to take his comment as a compliment. Tav flicked her hair over her shoulder, the golden threads making her blonde hair twinkle as if lit up my magic. “Besides, the fireworks are going to be down by the river, not far from Felogyr's Fireworks. I wouldn’t be able to go even if I wanted to.”

Ah, yes. There was the ever-present issue of her having to traverse these streets over and over again without being able to explore the rest of the city.

“You are not missing out on that much, fireworks are frightfully dull, overrated really,” Astarion said with a longsuffering sigh, as if going to a party was such a chore.

“Yeah, baby stuff,” she looked up, catching on quickly.

“Quite so.”

Her lips quirked into a smile. It was a ghost of her usual enthusiastic grin, but better than nothing.

“Ya know,” Tav looked down, suddenly finding the cobblestones worthy of her attention, “I decided I’m going to marry you when I’m older,” she said in a nonchalant manner.

“Are you now?” he snorted in amusement. “And I suppose you didn’t think to ask my opinion on the matter?”

“Just you wait, I’m going to grow up to be strikingly beautiful. Well, maybe not as beautiful as you”, she sighed, accepting that as a fact of life, “but close enough! And I’m going to save you from your master, because he clearly does not treat you as well as he should, and you will fall hopelessly in love with me!”

“Didn’t you say that this isn’t what you really look like? You might be quite a bland thing. Terrible warts on your nose. Missing teeth, bad breath.”

“Stop it, don’t be horrid!” she laughed. “You are just saying that to be mean.”

He was needling her on purpose, that was true. But Tav could take a joke and wasn’t fishing for praise. It was a nice change of pace when he didn’t have to needlessly stroke someone’s ego and come up with artful, empty compliments. Words were usually just another arrow in his quiver, a tool used for seduction to ensure his survival. It was pleasant to talk to someone just for the sake of it.

“Well, even if I am beastly and ugly, and you will not want to marry me, I hope we can still be friends even many years from now. And I am going to set you free no matter what.”

Set him free, she said. And who was going to set her free before that? Because no matter how negligent her family was, she was being educated, provided for, dressed in the best of the best. One did not just do that out of the goodness of their heart. There had to a purpose for whatever this was.

“Well, that sounds like a plan,” he rolled his eyes. “It may be missing the how and when you are going to best Cazador-”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say his name. The less she knew about him, the better.

“Don’t make fun of me! I may be measly twelve now, but in a few years, I will be old enough to decide my own destiny. One day, I will do something great, really great, and it will change everything.”

“If you say so,” he allowed, relieved that she did not latch onto the name and start asking questions.

The fireworks display started abruptly, painting the sky a myriad of colours. It was obtrusively bright and showy, but seeing all this in his world where colours were muted and dull had a certain appeal.

“Right, whilst you idle away the hours, some of us have things to do, places to be,” he walked off, moving with the crowds that started making their way towards the Lower City.

“Okay,” she ran up to Astarion to hand him a potion, upholding her end of the bargain as usual, “hope your hunt goes well!”

Hunt. Yes, that is exactly what he was doing. And the crowd tonight seemed so ready for the picking, oohing and aahing at the beauty above them, drunk on their excitement and cheap beer. It was almost too easy to engage one, two, three victims in quick succession. Pluck them like ripe fruit, ready to be devoured.

The other spawn quickly caught on to where his hunting grounds were for the night, and he started glimpsing them here and there. Dalyria grasping a tiefling’s chin and bringing his lips closer to her own to whisper something seductively, him following her completely enthralled by whatever she was saying. Petras loudly propositioning a human pair, them laughing and calling him daft, which was obviously not the effect he was going for. Astarion scoffed. Petras was terrible at being suave, he lacked the finesse, the ability to improvise on the spot.

At one point, Astarion had a niggling suspicion at the back of his mind that Tav was watching him from the rooftops, he thought he saw her once or twice. But, when he crossed the bridge yet again and noticed her up on the roof of the potion shop, she was looking at a human family with a wistful expression, the child holding his father’s hand and gesticulating animatedly, clearly excited about being out and about after dark. The mother crouched beside the boy and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, eliciting delighted giggles. Tav scowled and quickly turned, walking away from the edge of the roof and then bleeding into the shadows.

A child without a name, without a family, and without any history.  Astarion supposed that she had little in common with children that sought her company, who had the luxury of enjoying the care and love of their parents, or at least were free to come and go as they pleased on a whim.  

She was a specter that haunted the streets of the city she could never properly explore. It was little surprise that she identified with him on some level. He was a creature who was a ghost of his former self, who was compelled to act as he was bid. A former elf without a past, a vampire spawn without a future.

@ninty900 @dajeong @ayselluna

#astarion tav fanfiction #fanfic #astarion #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfiction #baldur's gate fanfiction

[peachyteabuck]

i’m out of my head when you’re not around

summary: shiv has a lot of secrets. you happen to be one of them

a commission for @cherrysweetdevine​

pairing: shiv roy x reader

words: 2366

content warnings: mentions of whorephobia (reader is a stripper), survival sex work, vaginal fingering, car sex, angst, they love each other but they Can’t Be Together, fingers in mouth, orgasm control/denial, D/s dynamics, “mommy” pet name used

Shiv is not a woman who likes to have weaknesses. She covers her tracks wherever she makes them. She has shell companies for her shell companies, and then shell companies for those, too. She’s got lawyers heartless and well-paid enough to defend her. She’s got corporate spies, and government ties, and both fear her.

Somehow, though, you’ve weaseled your way into a certain spot in her chest that pangs when she’s far away from you for too long. It’s not as though she can text, email, or call—all of which are discoverable in the event of an unfortunate legal situation. No, she has to go in person, has to speak in a subtle code, and hope you understand. She has to leave her phone in the car, contacting her driver with a different burner each time. She’s careful, practiced, and precise.

Especially when she sneaks out to see you during work hours. She’d deny it if anyone asked—not that they were dumb enough to think they could ask her such a question. What Shiv does off company property is no one’s business but her own, and she intends to keep it that way.  

Entering the facility, she refuses a coat check (she knows from you the person running it tonight has sticky fingers, and a penchant for mixing up tags) and slides into one of the velvet-lined semi-circle couches in the darkest corner of the club. It’s far from the stage, the usual clientele leaving the seat vacant for that reason. Not many people are here—probably because she decided to come after the dinner rush. A smart move, considering how much she hates being overcrowded. It’s stifling, to be around many people—especially when all of those people are old, sweaty men.

She’s not here to throw cash, though, she’s here to see you.

And you, she notices, have just stepped onto the floor. Not only that, but you’re wearing the dress she bought you recently.

The white dress, dripping in hand-beaded, translucent crystal fringe, hugs your figure. The crystals move as you do, dancing as if they’re the ones on stage. Each one shines in the light, licking at your skin like flames onto wood. You don’t let it subsume you, though. No one else could wear that dress like you are right now. No one has the presence powerful enough to rival the crystals, or the V-shaped hem, or the deep neckline. The shoes, the ones she also bought you, are the same white as the dress. The toe strap has just enough crystals to call attention to them were you to be upside down, the ankle strap and thick heel bare.

The most important facet of your attire, though, is that Shiv had it custom-made for you and had it delivered to your apartment on the Upper West Side. She saw it on a model during fashion week, touting the gaudy, too-short dress with an atrocious pair of heels and a walk that reminded her of tripod dog that just woke up from a deep nap.

Shiv saw something though, behind the horrid styling and wretched model. She saw a chance, which she immediately took to prove that she hadn’t forgotten about you despite months of no contact.

If Shiv were anyone else, she would’ve grabbed you already—gave you a giant diamond ring and an outrageously expensive wedding and swept you to some cottage in the countryside where she’d make love to you as if she was trying to produce an heir.

But she’s herself, and you’re you, and so she finds herself here: in this high-end strip club-slash-sex dungeon, watching you from afar like a hunter in the brush. At least for them, though, they have the pleasure of taking their kills home.

No, she just saw a five-figure price tag and filled out the check. What can she say, she likes things that are expensive. She anything as long as it has a big enough price tag. The powerbroker inherited an unfortunate number of traits from Logan—her hairline, how she likes her coffee in the morning, the way she expresses love in the same way the average general speaks to their soldiers. This, though, seems to get her into the most trouble. Particularly, the most trouble with you.

One of the other girls offers her a menu as she sits down, one she turns down. She knows what she wants, ordering a bottle for herself and a single cocktail for you.

It’s not long before you find her, sitting to her right. Right after, the sever brings her order and leaves without saying anything else. She’s seen you and her together before, she knows she won’t be needed until it’s time to pay the tab.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you say, no hint of irony in your voice. Shiv likes that about you, how dry you are. No lube before the fucking, just how Shiv likes it.

She takes a long drink from her glass, savoring the rich taste for a moment before speaking. “I could say the same to you as well.”

“Still with your husband?” you ask, sipping on the virgin sex on the beach. Shiv could convince you to do quite a lot—but you’d never drink on the job, and you don’t intend to start now. Even for the beautiful woman with a bottomless wallet and a toy collection that would put the pro-dominatrixes who work in the club to shame, you’ve got to keep a clear head and not break house rules. It’s kept you alive this long, and you’re not one for breaking tradition.

Shiv respects that, popping the cork and pouring herself a glass of 2007 Sassicaia. She’s the only woman you had ever met who drinks red wine at a strip club, but you admire her commitment to avoiding champagne and vodka.

“By all legal accounts,” is all Shiv says in return. A divorce is costly, even with the prenup, and could make her appearance to shareholders worse. She’s tough, and a good CEO, but the bastards are always looking for a way to undermine her. Still, she and Tom haven’t slept in the same bed in years, now, their legal addresses are the same only in case someone were to ask. They haven’t spoken to each other about anything except business in even longer, their conversations about times when they need to be seen together going through their assistants.

Shiv Roy maintains a steeled image, and she can’t give that up for anyone—even you.

You know it, too; your profession acts as a piece of bulletproof glass, separating you for eternity.

This job may not have been your first choice. In fact, it was a last-ditch effort to keep yourself from getting evicted. Your mom may not know what you do, your career a shameful red A on your personhood. You lie to anyone who asks, dodging questions from landlords and lenders and your financial advisor.

But it had paid for your niece to go to nursing school. It had kept your sister out of collections when she had that cancer scare. It kept a roof over both of their heads when both of them lost their jobs. It keeps you out of debt and your apartment paid off. You don’t have a lifeboat, you are a lifeboat.

Shiv can’t understand that. The silver spoon hidden artfully under her tongue still shines when the dim lights of the house floor hit it just right. You can’t be too mad at her, though. The valley it creates between you keeps you from getting too close, from falling into her clutches. She’s a customer, and, you, providing a service. A very expensive service. Nothing more, and certainly nothing less. It keeps you both in your respective rigid categories, the borders shocking you every time you attempt to navigate past them.

“Meet me outside?” she asks, raking her eyes up and down your form. You shake just a bit as you break from your own line of thought, remembering the rest of the world exists. “I know your shift’s over soon.”

Shiv’s right. Even if she wasn’t, it’s not like you’d make more money showing your lace thong to the grandpas currently whistling at your coworker.

You nod, not giving her the satisfaction of a verbal reply. She just smiles, though, knowing she’s won and that there’s nothing anyone can do about it. There’s a certain smugness that comes from succeeding in battle, and Shiv will take it in any form she can. At least silence saves your dignity.

“One more thing,” she leans over to whisper, her lips just barely grazing the shell of your ear. “Keep the dress on.”

Back in the dressing room, you put on the biggest coat you can find, mindful of handsy customers’ bad habits regarding dancers out in the unprotected open. See a pretty woman in a short dress, and know she’s a dancer? It’s a concoction that ends in either a police report or a trip to the morgue, and you don’t have time for either. The mink and chinchilla fur blend keeps the February New York air from biting too deep into your skin, and the general public from seeing you dressed to the nines on a Tuesday night.

Confident in your half-hearted disguise as a normal civilian, you somehow find the courage to leave.

The dancers all have a special exit, patrolled by two security guards who are big as houses. They’re Russian, covered in tattoos, and wear earpieces you’ve never seen them talk into. They have, however, made sure no one who isn’t a dancer gets into the dressing rooms and kept every creepy customer from harassing leaving girls. In your book, that’s all you need to know that they’ll keep you safe.

You can feel their eyes following you as you step into Shiv’s car, the driver opening the door for you before walking back to his place in the front. Shiv’s already there, working on a tablet you’re sure is on airplane mode. She doesn’t look up to greet you until the car has already begun driving, and even then all she does is press a button on the central console.

You watch as the soundproof partition rolls up, the driver’s blank face staring straight ahead as you watch him disappear behind the black divider. Only then does Shiv turn to you, leaning forward to press your foreheads together.

Her perfectly manicured nails—painted in a deep purple that contrasts her pale skin—trace up your leg. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

In the safety of the car, you let your guard down. Your thighs open slowly, carefully, making room for her between them. But she doesn’t go that far, instead tracing up your navel before cradling your cheek. “And I know you’ve missed me, too.”

All you can do is flick your eyes between looking at her hand, and looking into her eyes.

“C’mon, open up, darling,” she coos, her index and middle finger rubbing over your plump bottom lip. Your lipstick, a matte nude meant to keep all the attention on your dress, doesn’t come off on her fingers just yet. For that, you’re grateful.

You hesitate for a moment, looking from her soft hands to her relaxed face. Shiv pouts, her calm demeanor giving way to a faux-niceness that has your center aching.

“Baby, don’t be like this,” she tuts, moving her hand so her thumb ever-so-subtly pulls your lips apart. “Let Mommy have some fun before we get home, won’t you?”

You nod ever so slightly, swallowing in a weak attempt to build your own courage back up. “Yes, Mommy. I’m sorry.”

She smiles as you open your mouth, welcoming the intrusion.

“Such a good girl for me,” she coos, her fingers rubbing circles onto your tongue before thrusting to the back of your throat. You can feel bits of drool fall down your chin between your thighs and pooling on the seat. It’s not the worst thing these seats have seen, at least not from you. And yet here, now, as Shiv balances her other hand behind you, as her wedding ring glints against the bright billboards of the city…

You gag around her fingers, the sudden drop in your ability to retrieve oxygen causing you to jerk.

“Shh pretty thing,” Shiv whispers, moving to rub at the tip of your tongue again. It gives you a chance to breathe, even as your jaw aches and your desperation grows. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

You can barely hear her over the ringing in your ears, your heart a racehorse in your chest. Your body slumps against the seats as you try to steady your breathing, but the last thread of your self-control snaps as you feel her tease at the thin fabric covering your weeping pussy. She doesn’t take them off, merely pushes them to the side.

“Fuck,” your voice is barely above a whisper, breathy and wonton. Her movements are confident and practiced as she gathers your wetness, circling it around your neglected clit. You buck into her hand, your hips moving on their own accord. No one else can touch you as she can, no one can elicit the same animalistic moans as her middle and index finger curling inside of you while her thumb rubs at your clit.

It’s good, it’s so fucking good, and all too soon you’re muffling your moans by biting into your hand as your other hand digs into her arm. Just a few more presses, just a few more twists until you-

Shiv laughs as she pulls away, watching as your face contorts and you cry out choked sobs.  

“Nuh-uh, baby,” she smiles as you whine, kicking your feet and pleading quietly. “Gotta make sure you have a reason to come home with me.”

It’s only then that you realize the car has stopped, and Shiv is moving your dress down and coat to cover your body. You follow her, stumbling along as she leads you. Still, in your frenzied state, you know you’d trust her to lead you safely anywhere.

#shiv roy x reader #shiv roy fanfiction #shiv roy x y/n #shiv roy reader insert #lukis does commissions #lukis writes stuff

[middle-earth-mythopoeia]

I just saw the new trailer (why is there another one already?) for The Rings of Power and it’s just so fucking awful. I’m disgusted. Is that supposed to be Finrod?!?! I hate this. I’m tired. I literally hate everything about this. I knew it was going to be like this, but that doesn’t soften the blow. I’m furious that Amazon has the rights to make this at all. 

And I just saw a leaked video from the show that’s supposed to be of the Two Trees dying. I can’t put into words how atrocious it was. The Darkening of Valinor is a tragic moment, so seeing it onscreen should make you feel sad...but that’s not how I felt. It looked ugly. It looked like a shitty video game. You can’t get me to believe that THAT is Valinor. Absolutely not. It had none of the emotional impact that it’s supposed to have—instead it just made me feel gross.

As far as I’m concerned, Bezos and Payne and McKay are to Tolkien’s mythology what Morgoth was to the Two Trees. I’m so upset that they’re doing this to my favorite stories. I can’t even put it into words. I’m so mad.

And before anyone says, “But you still have the books!” Yes, I know. But this shit-show is still an insult to Tolkien fans everywhere. Do you know what I would give for another GOOD Tolkien adaptation? And I know the LOTR movies are a high bar, but how is it possible to fall this miserably short?

The diverse casting is the only thing they got right—except it didn’t go far enough. Instead, Amazon is just using the diverse casting as a shield to deflect from the fact that they’re, you know, Amazon, i.e. not exactly progressive.

And even apart from how wrong and not-Tolkien all the released clips and photos are, I’m also just like...this is the best you could do?! What there is of a story so far is so formulaic and boring. The dialogue is laughable. The CGI is awful. The costumes are so generic—I’ve seen a million better character designs done by fans. Everything Amazon releases is just embarrassing at this point. 

Fuck Amazon, fuck Jeff Bezos, fuck this soulless cash-grab. I want this show to bomb so hard.

#rings of power #the rings of power #amazon #fuck amazon #my writing

[telpea-kalka]

Honestly the most atrocious offence of Rings of Power was they they made Sauron look like a normal guy. Dead ass, forget every other controversy, how dare they de-twinkify our dark lord. I was upset when I thought he was gonna look like M&M but even that would have been better than just a regular ass guy 🫠

#look how they massacred my boy #RoP Sauron made SoM Sauron look like Phobs’ Sauron #rings of power #sauron #mairon

[sery-chan-13]

Letters and Poems in the Drawer

Ch.9 of “My Sunshine” [TreechxReader]

Ok, so most of these are super cute and sweet. Some can be interpreted as a bit… lewd in a way. And I guess they kind of are? So I guess;

Warnings: some mildly risqué poems. And Treech being a simp-

The boy I shouldn't miss

Because he was never mine. But I can't stop myself from imagining myself in his strong arms. Wearing the stupid hat he wears everyday cause I stole it. Can't stop my stupid lovesick thoughts of kissing him soon as he steps off that damn train. He's the boy I shouldn't miss, but I do. He's the boy I shouldn't be writing poetry about, but I do. He's the boy I shouldn't love, but I do.

———

I love like a dog. Not the cute puppy way, with eyes that plead for you to love me... but in the mutt way. Begging for even a scrap. Loyal to the bitter end. I love like a dog. Staying even when I know there's nothing but hurt ahead, I'll lay in my bed without so much as a whimper, hopin' you'll look at me with the scrap of love I beg for. I love like a dog.

Treech softly played with the corner of the paper and considered burning the piece, something about how vulnerable the piece was. He glared at the paper, as if it was the paper’s fault he wrote all that. He put his head in his hands, and remembered how much you loved reading poetry. Especially the poetry that gave off so many feelings. He softly put it into the drawer.

——

Dear Treech,

You are not going to believe the audacity of this man. I mean, he's always been an asshole, but it pissed me off today. Festus Creed has been a pain in my ass since I moved here. He's always poked fun at me for being district, but I never paid him mind. Suddenly, I'm back in the class after summer break and he's flirting with me!!! Can you believe it, I mean seriously. Does he think I'm dumb? He plays with my hair in class and passes me notes I don't read. His hand writing and spelling are absolutely atrocious, so I wouldn't even be able to read it even if I wanted to. Anyway, I hope your day was great. Mine was. I got to punch Festus Creed in the face. It was during stage hitting practice, and I took the opportunity. I mean I started the waterworks and they all fell for it. Even Creed. I think Dean Highbottom knows... but he likes me, says I’m his favorite student, isn’t that silly? I mean with powers like these? Life is crazy.

Sincerely, your friend,

(N/N)

——-

There's a fine line between jealousy and obsession. I think I'm on the edge of it. I don't really know why. I mean I know you have friends. That doesn't bother me. It's... the way people look at you like they own you. Like you're already theirs. I might say that you're 'mine' but I know that you aren't something to own. I think... what upsets me the most is that you look like they've sucked any joy out of your life. You smile... but it's not real... I guess I'm just... I don't even know at this point.

Fuck

He scribbled on the page and groaned in frustration, upset that his words didn't string together the way they usually did. He crumpled it up and threw it in the small bin he had before sighing. He picked it out and smoothed the paper, folding it and placing it in the drawer.

——

Dear sweet sunshine,

I've been holding the necklace a lot more recently. I have it hidden usually. Firstly so it doesn't get damaged, and secondly because I don't want anyone to try and take it.

I look at it and wonder if you look at yours. You know, that ring was my grandfather's. My grandma gave it to him as a proposal. Isn't that so cool of her? Said she wasn't going to wait forever for him to propose and did it herself. Well, grandpa gave it to me because dad didn't want to have the ring. He said I was to give it to my special someone when the time came. And even though it definitely won't fit you, I think it's cute. I mean, I'll give you your ring back and maybe it will count as that. We were much too young to be thinking of all that, I still think no one deserves it more than you. When you come back I'm making sure it's perfect and shined up.

Much love,

Treech /\

         

——

Dearest Treech,

Yeah yeah it's the first time I actually use your name in one of these. Suck it up buttercup.

You won't believe what some kids tried to do today. I mean I know Capitol kids aren't the nicest, but this goes too far. With all the fine things they have, they tried to take my necklace! Some of them tried to stop the others. Like Pup Harrington. He ain't mean I guess... never says much but doesn't step in. Until today. Asked them why they wanted my necklace when they had nicer things. I mean I guess that was supposed to be insult? I don’t know. Hate Clemensia. She’s so mean. Said that it might be nicer, but mine was one of a kind. Coriolanus, his name is a mouth full, said she was acting no better than a district kid. Was it mean? Yeah. Insulting? Above else. But it made everyone stop. Sejanus scoffed a sarcastic sentence about us district kids acting better than the Capitol kids. I mean the teacher stood there! She didn’t do anything! I’m glad it’s my last year with her. Next year, we start the last four years of Academy.

Anyway, just needed to rant about them. Love you!

Sincerely,

(Y/N) ♡

——

I think about you. All the time. I try not to, you distract me. I mean, your dad makes so many public appearances, it’s hard not to stare at you on the screen. You’re gorgeous. So fucking pretty. Sometimes you talk, and your voice is so sweet… And I have to stop myself from thinking to much about it. I work alone most days, so I try not to get distracted. At night, when I’m alone in my room I can finally let my mind run and wander across everything. I mean it’s stupid. I sit at my desk and try to write but end up fantasizing about you and I. What kind of life would we have? Together, I mean.

——

There’s lots of things I’ve written I will avoid giving you. I don’t want you to know that I’ve been thinking about you in any way that might scare you off. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love poems are one thing, no matter how embarrassing it is a guy like me writes them. The rest are thoughts and things I kept for fear of anyone reading them. If you asked me, I bet all it would take is one look from your pretty begging eyes, and I’d give in. Staring at the ceiling is pointless so I close my eyes and imagine you’re here with me.

——

Oh my darling, I will never find anyone as wonderful as you. The things I wrote poems about will come to fruition with you. You are now and have always been the subject of my poetry. You make me swoon, and my heart race. Your words are saccharine sweet when I hear them in my head. Butterflies flutter in my stomach and you made it easy to talk to you. I am completely comfortable around you I want to give you all of me all that I am…

You blushed writing the last lines, hiding your face in your hands. Was it even right thinking of him like this? Did he ever think of you like that? Were you both thinking of each other at the same time when your eyes flutter shut?

——

I’d beg till my voice goes hoarse, if you told me to

I’d drop everything, if you told me to

I’d fall to my knees in second, if you told me to

I’d take anything. All the pain, all the pleasure whatever it might be, if you told me to

I’d listen to every command, every wish, every fantasy, and make it come true. If you told me to.

Because I want to be just yours. All that to say I want to be yours. Your darling, your sweetheart, your beau, whatever you want to call me.

Your boy, only yours

How could I ever want anyone else?

Hehehe imagine simping that hard couldn’t be me anywayyyyy-

#×reader #fluff #treech tbosas #treech x reader #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #jealous boyyyy #bro is kind of sort of- #ooh jealous jealous jealous boyyy

[candor-creator]

gods are not people. gods are stories.

when the Greeks created Zeus and Hera, they did not create them with the thought that people thousands of years later would declare their relationship atrocious and their actions cruel. they didn't write these characters with the idea that they should be scolded for punishing victims.

because gods are not people. Hera is marriage. beyond the goddess of marriage. she Is Marriage.

if you do not respect your marriage, terrible things will happen to you. to tell a story and to make their world clearer, the Greeks attributed those terrible things to Hera. do not break your oaths, or Hera will punish you.

if you are inhospitable, trouble will find you. a tyrant king will be toppled by the angry army of peasants crushed beneath him. a thief of renown shall be hunted down by those they've robbed and they will lose everything they once had. attack those around you who trust you, and hell shall follow. they named this hell Zeus.

with this in mind, I wanted to talk about the deities of Hallownest.

The Pale King gives the gift of mind to those who live in his kingdom, has the ability to predict the future, was an engineer, a researcher, and he was very, very, prideful. egotistical. he fully believed his kingdom would never fall, better than all the rest. he believed his plans to protect his land would succeed. he made countless sacrifices and was full of regret. he made innumerable mistakes, but remains beloved by his people, who endlessly called out to him when he vanished. he holds affection for his wife, his home, his people, his children. he gave a gift to someone he believed did not care for him, and crafted a memorial for them when they were sacrificed.

the pale king is the Mind. he is the concept of thinking highly of one's self, thinking one can do no wrong, he is pride and joy, he is curiosity, he is embarrassment and regret and shame and mistakes and fumbles and learning and growing, he is memory and he is hindsight and he is foresight, forethought, carefully considering every option on the path ahead, he is grief and he is love and he is the inability to cope with loss and he is the inability to understand the finality of death and he is the hope that things will never change and everything will be comfortable just as it is forever. he is Mind.

The White Lady is the wife of the pale king, and she is a mother, but not a Mother. she is a wife, but a cold one. she is a queen, but she is absent. she is a god, and she is selfish. when a vessel stumbled into her chambers, where she imprisoned herself of her own volition, she gave away her late husband's wedding ring, speaking of its potential power. not of its sentiment, for it was broken and useless without its other half, not of its purpose or who owned it or why she carried it, no. she gave it away and asked her child to sacrifice their own life for her.

trees do not care what happens to the fruit they bear. it falls from their branches and is either carried off by animals or reduced to rot in the grass. the seeds inside are all the tree could care about, flourishing for its own gain. the more trees, the better. nature does not care. The White Lady is Nature. and she does not nurture. The Mind loves her dearly, for her branches and her life and all she is and ever will be. Nature is neutral in return.

The Radiance is an arrogant goddess who believed in herself just as the Mind did, believing in her own beauty and power, that she could unite everyone beneath her if they just focused entirely on her, on achieving the feats she wished of them, and from arrogance she birthed arrogance, as her people abandoned her for better, clearer things the moment they were able. she wished for them to follow their Dream, and once they did, she made them regret it.

The Hollow Knight was born to be purity and perfection. something mindless and yet clever, something stoic yet without will, something silent yet sending a message. and the hollow knight looked upon this impossible task, then out across the kingdom that would be relying on its success, then up towards the eyes of its proud father, the Mind believing in its Patience and perseverance and its ability to hold strong for as long as they would need, and Patience acted for the good of the world around it.

and an eternity later, a lone knight stepped into a kingdom, listening to its final breaths, suspended in a moment between life and death, and the knight came forward to decide its Fate.

#id do grimm and unn but unn woukd sound very redundant and i do not have the time to research grimm #hollow knight #hk #analysis #hope yall enjoy