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paracosmic-murdock · 10 months

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Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 2: "Oeillets, coquelicots et saphirs"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: While the other ladies have grown with the mindset of marrying and having children, you, as the daughter of a man who wanted a son, grew up being both. You learnt how to embroider, play the pianoforte, fence and manage the estate. However, there were some things that not even the Duke of Burgundy could do, so after he passed and you thought there was nothing left for you, you decided to move to London for a while and go to the Royal Academy of Art.

Nothing was going to keep you from what you wanted, and you would do whatever it takes: you would lie to everyone, you would live to death, you would pretend to be a man. You had a plan and it would be a piece of cake for you. But again, when has something that she wants and should not do easy for a woman? Especially when a man like Benedict Bridgerton gets in the way in more ways than one.

Warnings/tags: idiots in love, eventual smut, love triangles (but not really), lgbtq+ themes, bisexual benedict bridgerton, feminist themes, historical inaccuracy (for the sake of the plot), inspired by mulan (1998), song: the lakes (taylor swift), other tags to be added

Chapter summary: The Royal Academy of Art was your dream, and you were finally there. Even though the main purpose was to get your portrait painted by the artist of your choice—whose charm drove you to that decision—, you took the opportunity to make it your first day of Art School.

Word count: 2.4K

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❁ mila's paracosm (main masterlist)

"Lady Y/N, are you aware of what could happen if you get caught?"

You sighed. "Antoinette, I appreciate your concerns, but nothing will happen."

"Nothing will happen until it happens, the less protection you have, the more careful you must be… And with your father gone, who is going to take care of you?"

"I can take care of myself, I don't need a man to protect me," you answered, wondering why you didn't change her as your maid before. She was the voice of consciousness in your life, was what your father had said when you considered it first. "The only thing a man is good at is being the epicenter of every problem that has ever existed. Forgive me for only wanting one of those hideous beings to be worthy of me."

Antoinette snickered. "Love… you talk about it all the time, do you not? Once you fall in love, you will change your mind and make some sense."

"I do not need a man I am in love with, perhaps loving in a non-romantic way… As long as I can trust him with all that I have, all that my cousin's life is not long enough for him to touch, I think it would be enough."

"You might as well find that man in Art School and he will not like you if you look like another man."

You laughed. "I cannot marry an artist! Lady Carrington advised me not to, and I must follow her recommendations. Also, I will be saying that I have a twin who happens to be an elegant, dazzling, funny and beautiful young lady."

"Anything you say, my Lady." She rolled her eyes.

"I'm so excited!"

She curved her lips, internally not hating it entirely. Deep down, she admired your determination and the way you always end up making the most out of every difficulty.

Astounding was the way that a situation triggered your impulsiveness. On this particular occasion, a conflict at the Château made you send a letter to your godparents, steal clothes from your cousin—who is strangely your same size—, and run away to England. Antoinette knew she could not do a thing about it and that her job was to comply with your every wish.

"Are you ready, dear?" Lord Carrington asked as he saw you reach downstairs.

"Yes!" you exclaimed. "What will we do today, Lord Carrington?"

He shook his head in amusement. "I will accompany you to a classroom full of our most promising artists and have one paint you… Then, I shall leave you to explore the Academy by yourself, I am certain that you will have the time of your life."

The widest of smiles shone on your face as you hurriedly followed him to the carriage.

Your path was full of chit chat, nothing too interesting as your mind was set on your plans for the day.

When you arrived, you could not do much but look around, mesmerized.

Since you were a child, you wished to go to school, to university, and while your father used to indulge in your ideas and wishes, there were certain things not even a duke could have done.

He did hire a different educator for each of your diverse interests: languages, art, literature, history, astronomy, music, fencing, or archery. He taught you himself how to manage the winery, your properties, your fortune, a thing or two regarding mining, and the value of every single thing in life.

There were life lessons, advice, and love every day you spent together, and you would always be thankful for that.

When you finally got to the classroom, you encountered about half a dozen gentlemen in a semicircle, painting a woman sitting naked in the center of the circle.

You looked to another spot, any, as your only way to show respect to her.

"Will they… paint me like that, too?" you asked your godfather, and he chuckled.

"Do not even consider that idea, dear. It will be a portrait of you just the way you are right now."

You snickered nervously for a moment.

"Look at their work, my Lady," he ordered. "Then, pick whomever's you like best and we will have him painting you."

You did as he told you, lying eyes on a particular man. His work was interesting, remarkable even.

You correctly guessed that he was new to the Academy as his strokes lacked perfect precision. You did not care.

You did not look at any other's work, you just decided that was the man who would paint you. There was just something about him and about the way your heart jumped when he locked eyes with you for the first time.

So you made a gesture at Lord Carrington, who dismissed the model and every other artist in the room, leaving only you, him, the artist you chose, and your maid.

"Mister," Lord Carrington called for his attention, not knowing his name he just opted for the safest option. "Here is my goddaughter, Lady Y/N. She picked you to paint her portrait."

"I… Yes, of course, Lord Carrington."

He nodded. "I'll leave you to it."

You smiled at the unknown man with those glorious ocean eyes. "I am Y/N, enchantée."

"Benedict," he stopped himself when he noticed you didn't say your surname or present yourself with any title. "Are you French, my Lady?"

"Oh, what gave it away?"

He wrinkled his nose. "I have no idea, you look like someone who loves to walk through des rues de Paris. It could also be the accent, or perhaps introducing yourself saying enchantée, that is very French."

"You also speak French in Monaco, Belgium…"

"Are you Belgian or…"

"No, but still."

Benedict laughed, putting aside the halfway painted canvas of the naked woman, and taking an empty one. "So, French?"

"Yes, French."

"The color of your dress is one of my favorites," he commented with a smile, looking at you attentively as he mixed paints to come up with the perfect shade. "And the jewels contrast perfectly with everything."

The apricot orange silks of your dress did contrast perfectly with the necklace, gold accompanied by diamonds and carrying the bluest sapphires brought directly from the Americas.

"Almost as if I had chosen it on purpose knowing I was going to be painted by a skilled artist."

"I am flattered, my Lady."

You smiled, seeing as he started painting you. "You can call me by my name when no one is around."

"You as well." he agreed with a lopsided grin.

Slightly crooked teeth formed a smile that resembled the waxing crescent moon.

"So, Benedict… How long have you studied in the Academy?"

"Just a few weeks," he replied. "Does my poor experience show?"

"I picked you, and not precisely for your charm," you answered with a flirty smile. "Okay, perhaps I did! But I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

"How could I possibly have charmed you with a single glance?" he questioned with faux confusion.

"You underestimate yourself, it seems."

"It's part of my charm, if you must know."

He was the most enchanting individual you have ever encountered, and during the hours filled with fun small conversations in which you got to know each other, you regretted everything you told Antoinette about men.

It was wonderful that he never asked you for anything private, as if he knew which questions you would answer or not in advance.

"Do you come from a big family?" Benedict asked.

You shook your head. "Not really."

"Siblings?"

"Uh… one, my twin," you rushed to answer. "You?"

"Seven."

You gasped. "Seven?!"

"My parents used to have a lot of spare time or so it seems."

"I can't imagine how difficult it must have been to give birth and raise eight children!"

"It was hard work, I am sure."

"You looked like you were trouble, were you not?" you joked.

"What is there in me that screams trouble?" Benedict inquired, pretending to be offended.

"Everything, I should know."

He hummed. "What does that even mean, Y/N?"

"Make a guess."

"I could never."

"Then live under the shadows of ignorance, Benedict."

You both laughed, but as soon as you noticed his eyes locked on you, you returned to a neutral look.

"Wait, go back to that smile!" Benedict pleaded, and after a few seconds, you managed to. "That surely is a smile worthy of my first portrait."

"Oh, am I your first?" you questioned funnily, ignoring Antoinette's knowing look she threw from afar.

He chuckled loudly. "That sounded terribly not lady-like. Never say anything as such in front of Lord Carrington."

"I will take the advice," you answered. "But does it bother a gentleman like you?"

"On the contrary, I find it quite diverting."

"That is good since I said it to you."

He was finished, it took him a few hours, but you would approve of a conversation as such to last days, even. "It's done, come here."

You ran to him, looking at the painting he did of you smiling happily, which was uncommon for a portrait in the current days.

"It is perfect." You smiled, being closer to him than you had anticipated.

He smirked, and you could not help but melt under his glance. "I am glad you liked it."

"I, uh… must go, but you know what? I will have my brother find you and befriend you. He will study here."

"Are you artists, too?" Benedict asked.

"Uh…, no, not really," you answered. A lie. "He is the talented one, an artist if you have ever seen one, though not formally educated. And I am more inclined to literature."

"I believe you and my sister would be an insufferable pair."

You laughed. "Are you calling me insufferable? How disrespectful of you!"

"My apologies," he excused himself jokingly, standing up. "I hope I see you again, Lady Y/N."

"I hope so, too." You curved your lips.

He nodded and left you alone in the classroom.

"My, my…" Antoinette shook her head. "Not even a day has passed and you will have to eat your words."

"I will not eat anything, I was just being respectful."

"Respectful? Introducing yourself with only your Christian name is not respectful in the slightest, my Lady!"

"Oh, do not make a fuss out of this… One day people will introduce themselves with only their names, so I am just… a lady ahead of her time."

Antoinette sighed at your impertinence, giving you the clothes she carried in the suitcase. "Get changed before anyone comes in."

You did so, taking off your dress firstly and undoing the small, neatly combed, bun in your hair after. The corset was still on, and you took a piece of fabric that was in the suitcase and wrapped your cleavage with it. Antoinette helped you, and even though you could not properly breathe, you were happy.

Your cousin's attire fit you well enough, and you had at your disposition a pair of shoes your size. The diamonds and sapphires in your collarbones were quickly discarded, and ended up in the deepest pockets.

You tied your hair in a slipshod low bun, looking at Antoinette with a smile.

"Hello!" you exclaimed with a more grave voice and a sharper French accent, making her snort. "I am Mr. Voclain, enchanté."

"I am not sure men introduce themselves or, in general, act that way."

You clicked your tongue. "How would I know?"

"You live with one."

"My cousin does not count."

"How does he not?"

"He just doesn't, Antoinette, stop asking me questions!"

She sighed annoyed. "Clean up your face, you look like a woman."

You wrinkled your nose and did as you were told. "Go hide somewhere until I am done, alright?"

"Wait, that is not how a man stands!"

"It's not like I want to attract a lady's attention," you murmured. "Nor a man's."

Antoinette gave you a pointed look. "What is your name, my Lord?"

"Is it not too ambitious to call myself Lord?" you asked, rehearsing the masculine voice you would have to use. Antoinette shook her head. "Alright, I am Lord…" you paused for a few seconds, not knowing what your name would be until it occurred to you. "Antoine Voclain!"

"Antoine?"

"Antoine as in my loyal maid Antoinette who always supports me without complaint," you explained sarcastically. "Aren't I a handsome gentleman?"

"Do not get too confident over there, remember the things you said about them."

"Well, I am one of them now, so count me as a hideous being, too."

Antoinette was your age, a year or two older if anything. She acted as if she had twice that experience in life, a thing she took from her mother, who was your Mama's maid. Antoinette's mother was initially against you leaving for London, but knew there was nothing she or anyone could do or say to stop you from doing whatever was the thing that you pleased.

She sighed and left the classroom on her way to the carriage, leaving you in there alone with only your suitcase next to you.

There were all sorts of things. You arranged in a vase many flowers you found: carnations and poppies. The blue of the sapphires would contrast with the red hues of the flowers, but you kept the necklace only as a guide in your hands. You took fruits as well so you could eat meanwhile, not caring for their actual purpose.

You did not realize when the classroom got full of other men who joined you in painting the flowers on each of their individual canvases.

Different techniques and colors could be seen, though yours shone brighter as it came from an unfamiliar face with no formal artistic education.

Once you were finally finished, your hands and arms and even your face were stained of paint, you looked around and noticed the many other men who had joined you. You saved the jewels in your pocket again and did not leave until the 'Bourgogne' signature was there.

No one asked questions as you left, if you got a glance or two it would be saying too much. You walked out of the classroom and paced for a couple minutes until you saw a bathroom miraculously empty.

You cleaned yourself until there was no trace of paint in your skin, then left and looked for an empty classroom for more than you are willing to admit. Once you finally did, you got changed and quickly ran through the halls to try to find your godfather.

"Lady Y/N, why the hurry?"

"Oh, Lord Carrington… I was looking for you!" you exclaimed, fixing your hair.

"Shall we return home?"

You nodded eagerly.

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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this was quite a while ago so my memory is hazy but it still sort of bothers me, so

AITA for making a quick comment about a ship dynamic(???) i didn't like in the ship tag?

before you jump on my ass, this isn't pro/anti stuff. literally just a matter of preference.

not going to mention the specific characters or media in question for pure anonymity's sake. i'm just going to assign arbitrary names to the characters in question for readability. let's say Albert and Bartholomew, or something. and the ship name can be Fucking BartBert I Guess.

"Bartholomew" had a traumatic experience in his childhood that had a very large impact on his mental state, let's say. as a fan of. um. "bartbert". i had noticed a trend in fan works of this ship depicting an AU version of Bartholomew that had never had this traumatic event happen to him. not that there's anything wrong with that, really. i just found it sort of strange and i was more interested in the canon character, additionally i found it sort of comforting to think that Bartholomew was worthy of love scars and all, so to speak. so i made a short post in the tag expressing pretty much that. along the lines of "why is there so much fanart like this? can't he be loved the way he is?" or something like that, and tagged it as bartbert because i wanted to see other people's thoughts on it. in retrospect it could've been read as dismissive or inflammatory i suppose but i really didn't mean it like that. i was just a little bit annoyed and confused by it.

fast forward a little while and this person comes into my notes saying something along the lines of "for some reason i can't reblog this on my main, but it's because people have been nice enough to make fanart of the AU that i made." i didn't think i knew this person at all, so i essentially just responded trying to assure them that i don't know them and wasn't trying to attack their art or them personally or anything.

i'm not sure exactly what happened after that because it's been like 2 years but in essence, i had actually blocked their main a few months before, because they had been posting about that AU and i didn't like it, so i just blocked and moved on like i usually do with stuff like that because i didn't want to see it in the tags. i probably didn't even realize at the time that they were the creator of the AU. but this person pointed out that i had their main blocked as like, evidence that that post i had made was a personal attack against them, or something like that?? of course i didn't mean it in that way, i had just blocked their main months ago and forgotten about it, and i wasn't even really trying to be rude but they blocked me before i could try to explain myself.

i remember this whole thing pretty vividly because i was at the zoo with my family that day and feeling like i was being accused of something i didn't do, or being called mean or being picked on by someone with a much larger following than me presumably, just for making a single post the night before was really stressing me out on what was supposed to be a fun day. in addition i ended up leaving the fanbase for the work in question entirely pretty soon after because i didn't want people to think i was weird or mean. it's sort of colored my recollection of the work in general, which sucks because i do still really like it.

in retrospect i'm honestly not sure if what i did was wrong or not. i suppose i shouldn't have put negativity in the tag but also i feel like you should be allowed to express negative opinions the same as positive ones, right? as long as you aren't being a jackass about it. although at the same time i can sort of see their perspective because i think if i saw a post like that about something i had made i might've jumped straight to being defensive about it, too...

but anyways it's one of those memories that creeps up on me while i'm trying to go to sleep, so,

was i the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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cafeinthemoon · 11 months

Text

King - Chapter VI

Chapter 6/?

Wordcount 5,6k

Title A Kingdom of Women

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 🖤

Warnings: Mentions of unwanted pregnancies; multiple pregnancies; basically, Poseidon is not a good man

Tagging @cloveradora @the-dumber-scaramouche @mikkies @sl33py-zer0 @nooneknows8976 (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: Wow, finally a new chapter for this story! Even I find it hard to believe lol As pointed out by a reader in the comments, this story demands a lot of effort, and one of the reasons is obviously the chapters' lenght. This time, it's longer than all the others, as a compensation for the lack of updates. Tbh many things happened in the last weeks that kept me away from my works, but I don't want to discuss them here. It's not worthy.

Here are some hints about this chapter:

I tried to make Poseidon's character closer to his mythological version, which includes his relations with women. Though he doesn't make a proper appearance in this one, his presence is felt in each event, each sentence. He's the main subject of the conversations, whether in a positive or negative way. I love when this kind of stuff is included in stories to emphasize the importance of a character, and I hope I managed to do it right :)

Here we will have the first solid (or not) info about Amphitrite. I like Amphitrite's figure, and I will turn her into an important part of the structure here.

Of course, the selkie's skin is in her husband's possession. The thing with selkies' skin doesn't sit right to me, and I used this concept to create another source of tension for this story.

Finally, I'm sorry for the big delay and I hope you enjoy this new chapter :)

Yes, you have to stay vigilant, but no one can do this forever. Even the strongest can get exhausted. So, you need to relax. The thing is that you must learn when and where – and with who – you will allow yourself to rest. This can be scary in the beginning, and you will feel the most terrifying loneliness, but experience will come, and you will find balance.

Remember: your home is where your friends are.

When you were sent back to the lodge, the only things you wanted were a bit of silence and a moment by yourself, so you could process the events of the last day, your new position as a married woman and the task that was now in your hands: how would you manage to do something that only the most experienced masters were able to do, you who were never trained in any form of combat, not even in the use of knives? Yes, you did get your wish of not bearing a child answered, but were you really successful in your negotiations with your husband? You doubted that, and as to keep you in your place, he made sure you didn’t think you were.

Well, contrary to your wishes, once you stepped into the room and were left there by the servant (the same who took you to the ceremony’s preparations), you were barely allowed to readjust in it, because Alyssa was just too excited to see you again: ignoring your requests for her to be careful, she left her spot at the window and almost ran toward you when the door was opened, her hands around her belly as to protect the baby from her own recklessness.

– Y/n?! Y/n! Is that really you?!

You sighed in relief when she stopped in front of you with no troubles, but didn’t have time to think of this because the girl wrapped her arms around you and gave you the tightest hug that her condition allowed her.

– You’re finally back! – her voice was a rushed whisper – You should have been sent back yesterday, so when the night passed with no sign of you, I feared that something might have happened to you! But I’m glad you’re okay…

Though you were touched by those words, you preferred not try to wonder what Alyssa had in mind.

– Thank you – you moved away to look into her eyes – He decided to keep me with him for the entire night, so I had no choice. I’m sorry for causing you such anxiety.

You went to sit with her on your bed.

– So, yes, I’m back, but I don’t think okay is the best word to describe myself right now.

The girl frowned.

– No? How so?

You stood in silence for a moment, trying to find the appropriate way to turn your thoughts into words... And, when you did, was solely to provoke in your friend a laughing crisis.

– So… – you started – You told me that many things could happen once I found myself in Poseidon-sama’s presence… But why didn’t you tell me that this included being carried around like a bag of potatoes?

The sound of Alyssa’s laughter filled the enormous room before you could even finish the word potatoes. Her body trembled as she fought to control it, covering her mouth and closing her eyes tight, tears rolling through her hands. At first, you showed impatience – after all, being laughed at by a god by what he saw as fragility was a serious matter to you – but her reaction was so genuine that you just couldn’t stay mad.

– Alyssa, that’s not funny, okay? I didn’t enjoy being treated like that! It was humiliating and I just want to forget it!

– A bag of potatoes! Just imagine the Lord of the Seas carrying one! I can’t!

– Stop it! – you yelled, laughing too.

She took a deep breath and, then, was finally able to speak normally again.

– I’m so sorry, but I couldn’t help it! I was so worried about you and then, when you finally come back, this is the first thing you have to say? – she raised her hands in rendition – It’s just too hilarious!

You rolled your eyes.

– I wish I could see things that way.

Calming down, Alyssa gave you another reason for her attitude.

– Well, actually, it’s not just funny. I’m also surprised that he did this to you as well.

Now, you were the surprised one.

– What do you mean?

– When I was brought to the altar, I was wearing a transparent dress, so the first thing that Poseidon-sama noticed was the size of my legs – the girl explained – He didn’t say anything about them, but his disappointment filled the space between us. When he grabbed my hand and took me to the chambers where our wedding would be consummated, he made a comment about me being too slow and started carrying me on his shoulder – and, as if deliberating with herself, – But you’re a bit taller than me, you know? You must be able to walk faster… – she shrugged – Well, I guess this isn’t enough for him as well… – turning back to you, she suddenly changed the subject – But what about the wedding? The first time you saw him? What did you think? How did it feel like? Tell me everything!

Your cheeks got warm when you recalled the wedding night. You still had mixed feelings about it, so that you weren’t cheering for all that happened, at the same time that you weren’t really sad. But since you were still trying to digest such feelings, you sensed that this wasn’t the time to discuss them; Alyssa could be an understanding friend in case you did it, but you wouldn’t overwhelm her when she was so content for having you back.

– Well, I… Since our family was never devoted to any god, I had no idea of what to expect – you started – I just thought that Poseidon-sama would be similar to the statues we use to see in the temples’ entries and the public spaces. So I was really surprised when I finally saw him – you lowered your tone – He’s beautiful… And with a beauty that’s simply impossible for any human!

– I know – Alyssa commented – He firmly believes that gods are the ultimate bearers of perfection, so he does anything to embody this idea.

You chuckled.

– And I have to say it works in his case. Still, there are some unsettling things about him, such as, when you only take his appearance into account, you might think he’s around our age, but when you look into his eyes, this illusion disappears, and he looks older than everyone, anything you know… – a shiver appeared on your neck and went down your back while you remembered the god’s eyes – Older and terrifying.

Alyssa had an explanation for this.

– He’s one of the eldest deities from Greece, and was chosen to rule over the Domain of the Seas before the mythological ages. Water is a primordial element from all known worlds, including ours, you know? It’s only appropriate.

– Makes sense.

– Besides… you probably noticed that he’s not exactly a mild-tempered man – she lowered her voice, as if afraid of being heard by anyone beyond you.

You remembered the quake on the day you arrived and could only agree.

– This is why I was so worried for you, y/n – Alyssa continued – You’re just so lucky that he didn’t find any reasons to be displeased with you…

You bit your lip.

– Well… maybe he already did.

Your friend opened her mouth and closed it again, and you felt her fear and preoccupation in that small gesture. She asked what were you talking about.

– When Poseidon-sama took me to the chambers where we would have our wedding night, I made him a request – you swallowed – I asked him not to impregnate me.

Alyssa needed to make a superhuman effort to not scream when she heard that.

– You what?! But, how did you…?! – she shook her head – Do you have any idea of what it means to ask such thing from a god? Even more Poseidon-sama?

You let out an impatient sigh.

– I didn’t want to come here and I didn’t want to get married! You already know that – and, calming down a bit, – Not bearing a child was the last hint of freedom I could think of maintaining in this place, so I risked everything I still had (which wasn’t that much) in a deal with him. I’m a merchant, don’t you remember? – you shrugged – This preservation instinct... it runs in our blood.

The other girl frowned, still not believing that you indeed negotiated with Poseidon.

– Well, can you tell me the whole story, then?

– Of course.

And for the next minutes you recalled the events of that night, as well as the mission you received from your husband that morning, moments before he sent you back to the lodge, not hiding anything – except the nickname he gave you. Alyssa listened to each word carefully, not making a single interruption, but the sudden changes in her expression as the story followed revealed everything you needed to know about her feelings towards it.

In the end, by the fact that you returned to the room and the consistence of your narration, she was convinced that the god answered your plead; besides, she remembered seeing a small table close to the bed with a bottle upon it, both similar to the objects you described, and it was easy to imagine that there was a contraceptive fluid inside it.

However, she didn’t think her husband agreed with this deal as if moved by anything that resembled mercy, and she said that to you.

– By what I could see from him, I agree with you – was your reply – The nature of this mission is a proof itself.

Your friend let a hesitant “hm” escape.

– Yes, but that’s not exactly what I’m talking about…

– How so?

She gave you a worried gaze.

– I guess I didn’t tell you everything you need to know about being married with the god of the Seas – she moved upon the bed in discomfort – Look… Having children with desirable traits is not the only reason why Poseidon-sama has so many wives. The fact that most of us conceive in our first time with him makes us… unavailable for quite some time, to start with. There are other factors that might separate him from us, such as sickness and recovering periods between one pregnancy and the next, as well as when his presence is requested out of his domains, mostly in councils at Valhalla, which forces him to stay away for weeks, sometimes for months. For all of this, it’s convenient for him that some his wives are infertile or ask him to not have babies.

You frowned. So, there were women who were unable to bear children among you, and that wasn’t a problem for him? And you weren’t the first to make him that type of request? Well, now that you thought about it, it was only logical that you wouldn’t be: Poseidon has been taking wives for centuries, and you couldn’t suppose that all of them were willing to become mothers.

Besides...

– So, you’re telling me that if I’m not having a baby anytime soon, it means that he will…

It was unnecessary to finish the sentence. Alyssa gave you a silent nod. It was now more than clear that your request wasn’t the most clever decision from your part, something that you could have avoided if you were familiar with gods and their whims.

So, he’s this kind of man, then? Honestly, this side of him was clear for all the time we were together.

Still, you had some counterpoints.

– Alyssa, if I’m not the first to make this type of proposal to him, why did you react that way?

– First, because of your courage, perhaps increased by the fact that you know little about gods. Second, because I could never suppose that he would say yes to such proposal coming from a human – she put her hand under her chin, deliberating – He might have had something in mind… Something that we can’t figure out for now…

– Yes, I see, but there are other things that I can’t ignore. For example, what about Amphitrite-sama? She’s a goddess and his first wife. She is above us. I don’t see why he would chase after us when she’s there for him.

The look your friend gave you told you that you were, for one more time, wrong.

– Maybe it’s time for you to know about Amphitrite-sama, y/n.

Alyssa told you that what existed between Poseidon and Amphitrite was a marriage of convenience: she was the daughter of ancient sea deities, who inhabited those lands long before Poseidon’s arrival, and who offered her hand in exchange of their permanence in them; Poseidon accepted the offer as a way to reassure his dominance over the seas, and it has been like this since then. At first, they even tried to live as a normal couple, but it didn’t take long for both to realize it wouldn’t work, so that today they were just two people who shared the same house, and were more like professional partners then husband and wife.

– Amphitrite-sama’s personal life is a mystery to all of us – Alyssa explained – She’s rarely spotted by any of the other wives, and talking to her is almost impossible for us. Only Poseidon-sama, Proteus-sama and the servants are in touch with her routine and habits. We don’t even know exactly her feelings and thoughts towards us: some of the girls believe she hates us, this being the reason why we don’t see her often, but others think she actually cares for us, because she was the first to know the god of the seas as a man, so she’s aware of what is like to be in our place. I’ve never seen her myself, and I’m not sure of what to think, but I think she uses to spend her time out of here, maybe with her family, friends or a lover. I suppose we will never know.

You, from your part, were sure that enduring days and nights beside a man like the Tyrant of the Seas and being forced to accept the presence of thousands of other women in her own house must have been anything but easy. You were able to feel compassion for the goddess, but tried not to think too much about it.

What really interested you about Amphitrite, to be honest, had nothing to do with her private life or marriage.

– I’d understand if she chose to live her life that way. I suppose I myself would do the same if I was in her place – you commented – But, about her role as the Queen of the Seas... how exactly does it work? What are the signs of her presence here?

About this, Alyssa had some words, but they sounded as mysterious as all the rest.

– As far as I know, she shares the administrative matters with her husband, though he’s the one who has the final word in every question – a strange glimmer appeared in her eyes – But I’ve heard some stories that said that she is the real responsible for the maintenance of the palace’s structure, which includes its physical premises, the organization of the staff and their daily routine… and even us.

– What? – you frowned.

– About this, I have my doubts – your friend shrugged – But some say that most of the servants answer directly to her, and that even Proteus-sama fears her. Besides, there are rumors that she has already helped women and their children to leave her husband’s domain forever, as a way to favor the ones who have suffered and to maintain the order, given that the number of women would always vary like this.

– I see.

– Well, whether these stories are true or not, Amphitrite-sama is the Queen of this place, and we should be careful if we ever have to deal with her.

***

During the period that preceded your wedding, you received all your meals inside the lodge by the same hours everyday: since you still haven’t been touched by Poseidon neither you were given the pair of earrings that identified his wives, you still haven’t the right to join the other women in the great hall for breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Alyssa had the said right, but due to the aching that her swollen feet provoked in case she insisted on the long walk to the hall, as well as to make you company, she preferred to eat in the room, where you had a small table prepared for this.

However, now that you were married and were free from physical restrictions, you no longer had reasons to keep yourself separated from the others, so right in the day after you were sent back, a servant came to lead you to have your first lunch in the hall.

Even though you were expecting for this, your heart jumped inside your chest with the perspective of entering a large place full of people who you didn’t know and who weren’t exactly receptive to your kind. You thought of asking your friend to come with you, but didn’t have the courage to do so: you would have to learn to survive there sooner or later, without bringing discomfort to anyone. But, without you expecting it, she offered herself to accompany you.

The servant raised an eyebrow at her.

– Are you really in conditions of walking to the great hall?

– I am – Alyssa replied with all the confidence – Besides, this is an important moment for my friend, and I want to be there with her.

The servant looked from her to you, then back to her, but didn’t argue. They asked both of you to follow them and closed the room’s door as you walked out of it.

***

The servant pushed the pair of golden doors before you with little effort, but they obeyed immediately, revealing the great hall in its full glory.

Just like you imagined, it was similar to other places you’ve been at, in a sense that it carried cleanliness, organization and luxury as its pillars, making it as beautiful as those other premises, with walls decorated with marine concepts, columns of white marble, large tables of noble woods and objects coated in gold – and it was as full as the center of a human city in a market day.

To anywhere you looked, you saw a mixture of colors, shapes and sounds created by priestesses of the Northern Waters, selkies, naiads and other kinds of nymphs, mermaids who were able to change their scales and walk with legs, and many other women from different regions of the known worlds, all of them wearing pearls like yours. Some would proudly exhibit the jewels as if they were the meaning of their lives, but others seemed to have forgotten about their presence on their bodies, just like the pearls became part of them; in fact, some didn’t wear them as proper earrings: there were girls who you guessed to be from the depths of the seas, having delicate, translucent fins instead of ears, and the pearls were pierced on their upper sides; others didn’t have visible auricular organs at all, so the pearls were on their heads, necks and, in some cases, on each side of their hairless faces, where their eyebrows would be.

The majority of the women, which bodies were of humanoid shapes, had their pregnancies evident, with rounded bellies covered in loosen dresses, like to the one you were wearing right now, but others seemed to be just like you, with no protuberance to indicate the presence of a child inside them; and there were some who, despite resembling the human form, were carrying baskets on the fold of their arms in order to transport eggs, and those eggs were from different numbers and appearances. You didn’t see children at that place, and this corroborated with what Alyssa told about them being taken from their mothers after the period of essential activities between them, such as breastfeeding.

Indeed, the scene was strange and beautiful, so much that if you didn’t know what kind of place you were at, you could be led to believe that you were in a kingdom of women.

As you walked through the main corridor, having the long tables at both sides, you recognized some of the girls who traveled with you, but most of them you were seeing for the first time. From their part, the reactions were similar to what you saw when you entered the carriage: at each step you took, the looks of curiosity, suspicion, disdain and explicit discontentment for the presence of, not only one, but two human beings in that sacred house burned your skin and made your heart beat faster.

You glanced at Alyssa and noticed her nervousness.

– Are you alright? – you whispered.

– Yes – she mumbled back, with her hands on her belly – It’s just that I’m no longer used to the distance between our room and this place.

– I see – you looked ahead, and spotted the space where you were supposed to take your food – Let’s get something for us and find a calmer spot to sit at.

You stopped in front of the large pans and the mixed scent of spices, seeds and meat invaded your nostrils alongside the steam. Everything seemed tasty, though you could barely recognize the foods. Unlike the things offered to you at the lodge – everything specially selected for your species – the foods were all mixed there, so Alyssa instructed you while you filled your plate, indicating what would be accepted by your body and what you were better stay away from. In the end, you managed to get a good combination of exotic seafood and typical spices from Midgard, and went to one of the tables.

***

The meal was excellent, and you were content for finding a good spot to sit despite the crowd around you. In order to not gather unwanted attention (at least not more than you already received), you avoided talking while you were there, unless it was strictly necessary. You were careful not to make a mess, and cleaned after ourselves before leaving the table.

To be honest, the hall wasn’t as noisy as you expected: it was more like a party were only the rich attended, with a display of good manners, elegance and the sound of soft voices spreading across the air. You never enjoyed being at that type of event while you lived with your father, but you knew how to behave, using your ears more than your eyes, pretending to be absorbed in your current task and only looking around a few times to make sure you became part of the landscape.

Still, a human who has entered the hall for the first time couldn’t be as invisible as she wished, and you noticed the occasional looks from the people near you. There was a woman in special, who were sitting on the opposite side of your table, three seats away from Alyssa, who wouldn’t take her eyes off you, even when you stared her back; she resembled a human girl in everything, from her brown, wavy hair to her olive skin, the only exception being the aspect of her eyes, bigger, in the slight shape of almonds, with their outer corners turned up. Alyssa noticed her looks and, moving her lips without letting her voice out, she identified her one word.

Selkie.

You’ve never seen an individual from that people before, but you’ve heard stories about some who has been living among humans since the old times; the relations between the two species were never easy, so that you wouldn’t be surprised if that one tried to bring this old feud to the depths of the sea. You already decided to ask about her later, but soon this precaution became unnecessary, for when you stood up and prepared to leave, the sounds of the room were supplanted by a clear, real voice.

– Another human being among us in so little time? Interesting. It seems that our beloved husband is planning to bring change to the family. For reasons only known by himself.

Your eyes turned automatically to the selkie’s direction, and you saw she was already looking at you, now on her feet. You noticed her swollen belly under a tunic of an opaque fabric that resembled a seal skin. The table was silent as the other women stared at you, some unsettled by those words, others eager to hear your reply.

Alyssa grabbed her plate and was going to walk around the table to reach your side, but you saw the look in her eyes, a quiet plead for you to not listen to the provocations, but you were just tired of that and decided to ignore the advice.

– If you’re going to say that I don’t belong to this kingdom and I have no right to be here – you took your plate from the table – Save your words, because I myself agree with you.

The selkie frowned: whatever she wanted to hear from you, it wasn’t those words.

– What?

You sighed.

– Do you really think one would choose to live in a place where their people are not welcome? – you looked around – Would someone here do something like that?

The woman bit her lip, but kept her composure.

– Whether you chose to come here or not, it’s good that you’re aware of this. You must be a careful girl.

You shrugged.

– Most of the times.

Alyssa, who finally stopped by your side, intervened.

– We’re not seeking for trouble, Melian – she spoke to the selkie – There’s no need for this conversation to carry on.

The other displayed a smile full of sharp, small teeth at your friend, but there was no sign of sympathy on her gaze.

– Why not? We’re having so much fun with it!

You spoke to bring her attention back to you.

– So, is there something you want to ask, or am I allow to leave? – you glanced at Alyssa – I need to take her back to her room.

Melian raised an eyebrow, as if thinking of a new provocation. But, as it uses to happen with people who are used to such things, she didn’t need much time to find one.

– You’re so worried about your human friend, but what about yourself? – and, inclining her head to the side in fake worry, – Don’t you need special care too?

– What?

– Oh, you’re pregnant, aren’t you? – Melian pointed at your ears – I can see you’ve already been with him, but were you able to do your part, or are you just like her, who needed a second trial to do the only thing she’s supposed to be good at?

Alyssa lowered her eyes, but said anything. You gritted your teeth: you could stand people talking at your back and despising you, but doing this with a friend was a different story.

You decided to speak out the truth and see what was going to happen.

– No, I’m not carrying a child and, heaven forbid, I will never do it!

A wave of shocked whispers spread among the girls.

“Is she unable to conceive?”

“Poseidon-sama didn’t touch her? Why did he bring her here, then?”

“Maybe he did touch her, but she didn’t get pregnant!”

“What if she refused to give him children? Can you imagine that?”

“Nonsense! Saying no to a god, and your husband? She could never...”

“If this was the case, she would certainly be punished, but she’s here, safe and sound!”

– Don’t listen to them – Alyssa whispered – They have nothing to do with this.

Melian, whose surprise hasn’t been completely hidden, still had some words for you.

– Is this some sort of punishment he gave you, or are you cursed? Why do you speak of your condition in such a cheerful manner?

– Because, to me, it’s a reason to cheer at – the firmness of your words silenced the whispers and made her swallow – When I was taken to my wedding night, I pleaded to our husband, asking him not to give me children… and he listened to me. I am able to conceive, but I didn’t wish to, so I begged him and got my request answered.

The air was heavy with that revelation. How dare you – was the question in each of the faces turned to you.

– I don’t believe you – Melian spoke between her teeth – If you did something like this, you should be dead.

– Yet, here I am – you hit back – Alive and not pregnant. What are you going to do about it?

The selkie gasped. Alyssa held your arm, as if begging you to leave the hall.

It was when a calm contralto voice raised in the room, and everyone turned to its direction.

– Melian, won’t you stop pestering the girl just because she did the very thing you wanted to do, but had no courage to?

The voice belonged to a woman with blue skin and fins on each side of her head, who was sitting on the same side of the table as Melian and somehow looked older than the women around her. You noticed that she was the only one who hasn’t raised her head to see the argument, but it didn’t mean that she wasn’t paying attention. You found it curious that, despite not having a prominent belly, her chair was positioned at a certain distance from the table.

The selkie turned to her, with a gaze that carried more nervousness than exasperation.

– Suriah, don’t start with your...

– Don’t you know our husband detests these kind of behavior? – the woman, Suriah, interrupted, unaffected – Besides, meal times are supposed to be pleasing, not a source of distress.

Melian’s skin turned pale with those words, less because of fear of the older wife than because of a non disguised anger.

The woman sighed and finally looked at you.

– You’re not just an inexperienced wife, as far as I can see, human – she started – You also know little about dealing with gods, don’t you?

You swallowed. You remembered that Poseidon himself said something similar to you.

– You could say that.

Suriah laughed.

– It’s pretty obvious, judging by the fact that you didn’t just plead to him… – she raised the spot on her face where there would be an eyebrow if she had hair – You tried to negotiate with him, didn’t you?

You gasped. How did she know?

– This type of thing might work among your people, but with gods, specially with someone like Poseidon-sama, things are quite different – she explained – He might have conceded you the favor you wanted, but what he asked from you in return… I suppose it made you shiver.

You didn’t reply.

– You don’t need to be so shy about it – she assured you – There are others like you around here, and they know what it’s like to be in such position. Our husband indeed loves us, but he doesn’t get along with rebel women. In this sense, Melian is in a better place than you.

Melian, who was still in silence, lowered her eyes at those words.

You, from your part, wanted to leave that place and forget about this unsettling conversation at first, but your curiosity, as well as the fact that you needed to gather information, overcame this urge, and you stood there.

– Suriah, right? – she nodded positively at your question – You seem to have experience in matters with gods. Can you tell me more?

Suriah seemed satisfied with your request.

– Of course I can, and I’m going to make things easier for you to understand by telling my own story. When I first came here, I knew the basics about my future husband and the life that awaited me, yet I think that if I knew more, I would never get into this situation – she sighed – Just like you, I wasn’t willing to carry children, so I begged for his favor, he gave it to me… But with a price.

You sensed a tension spreading among the women when the word price reached their ears. Suriah ignored this and carried on with the story.

– There’s a certain game, very popular among the gods, which I won’t bother to describe to you. I should learn the rules in one week and play one time with a subordinate of Proteus-sama, who’s a master at it. The result would determine if my request would be answered: if I won, I wouldn’t be impregnated that year; otherwise, I would have a child for each mistake during the game… every year.

You gasped.

– Every year? – your voice trembled – How is this possible?

Suriah chuckled, not refusing an explanation.

– The physiology of my people is such that allows us to endure multiple pregnancies. If I make love once, I will have one child. If it happens more times, consecutively, I will have the equivalent number of children. This is precisely what I bargained with Poseidon-sama: no child, or the number of my mistakes. And I lost.

You swallowed, but found the courage to ask what you had in mind.

– And how many mistakes you made?

The woman revealed the reason why her chair was distant from the table: she had a basket with lilac eggs on her lap. An unsettling wave of whispers spread among the girls when she raised the basket, and Melian slowly sat down. You couldn’t take your eyes off the basket’s interior, but found yourself unable to count the eggs: you only knew that they were many.

Answering the question you didn’t make, Suriah spoke:

– There are fifteen eggs here – she looked at them with affection – Fifteen beautiful children waiting to be born. Just as there were fifteen of them last year, and there will be in the next one.

#record of ragnarok poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon #poseidon x reader #ror poseidon x reader #snv poseidon x reader #snv poseidon #ror poseidon

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best-underrated-anime · 1 month

Text

Best Underrated Anime Group J Round 3: #J4 vs #J7

#J4: Kids conquering dungeons to change the world

#J7: Lecherous young man gets engaged to an alien princess

Details and poll under the cut!

#J4: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic

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Summary:

A Magi is a magician whose inclination toward magic is so immense that they can be said to shape the world. With their significant influence, each Magi chooses a worthy candidate to become a king, then helps them conquer strange labyrinths called "Dungeons" and acquire the power of mythical djinns within. Above all else, the Magi supervises their elected representative as they build a country that might one day bring the world to its knees.

Aladdin is a young Magi wandering the world in search of his true self. However, his journey is not a lonely one, as he is accompanied by his friend and mentor Ugo—a djinn he summons using his flute. On his travels, Aladdin also befriends Alibaba Saluja and guides him to a nearby Dungeon. With this newfound friendship, they begin an epic adventure across the world, witnessing various irregularities that seem more frequent than ever.

Propaganda 1:

Imagine characters from Arabian Nights/1001 Nights coming to life in an anime. Even though it is loosely inspired off of the tales, it is a unique time and place from most anime settings. It has action, humor, and deep concepts. One of my favorite parts about Magi is how well-developed the background characters are.

Propaganda 2:

This anime has a lot of philosophical takes on what fate is. Basically, is everything that happened to you caused by a force you can’t control or is it what you make of it? Is there something or rather someone pulling the strings on what should or shouldn’t be? Is the person you are because you were lucky or unlucky to be born in the wealthy family or not? Why are things the way they are? Why was I dealt with a shitty hand in life? Is it because I’ll never amount to anything, or is something doing this to me? Why are we here just to suffer kind of deal, but you know not the meme version, the really sad and real version. Then you have the side of the people who may have not had the best life, but found a way out of it. Why do some people get to feel the light when you went through the same thing, but still lost and in the dark?

Trigger Warnings: Partial nudity and slavery. One of the mains is a slave in the beginning, but the other two mains help free her from that.

#J7: Urusei Yatsura (2022)

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Summary:

When aliens known as the Oni threaten to invade the Earth, they promise to leave under one condition—a randomly-chosen human must win a one-on-one game of tag against Lum, the beautiful daughter of the Oni leader. The “lucky” person selected happens to be the lustful and unlucky high-schooler Ataru Moroboshi. Given 10 days to attempt to grab Lum’s horns, Ataru realizes how impossible the challenge is as he is faced with Lum’s extraterrestrial powers.

Motivated by a promise of marriage from his childhood friend Shinobu Miyake, Ataru manages to catch Lum off guard. He mistakenly grabs hold of her bikini top first, but he eventually achieves his true goal. Although the game is over, Lum misunderstands that she is the one whom Ataru wants to marry, and she decides to move in with him. The poor student constantly tries to shake off the clingy Lum while doing his best to reconcile with his desired fiancée. After Ataru's heroic feat results in such a disastrous outcome, it is questionable whether luck will ever be on his side.

Propaganda:

This anime is actually a reboot; the original came out in the 80s. It honestly does the manga justice compared to the 80s anime. I absolutely love the animation, it really does stick to Rumiko Takahashi’s art style. Though the pacing is a bit different, overall it stays true to its manga counterpart. (It’s honestly too bad the series isn’t very popular in the west, it’s a great comedy/harem type show. And the thing is, it’s not your traditional harem where “the basic guy gets all the girls” which makes the show so much more enjoyable.) Everything about this show really captures the essence of the series. It’s able to be funny while still having its more serious moments. I just really love Urusei Yatsura, it’s so good.

Trigger Warnings: The art style is very colorful and could cause eyestrain

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how it’s presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form, where you can submit revisions for taglines, propaganda, trigger warnings, and/or video.

#anime #best underrated anime #polls #poll tournament #tournament #anime tournament #animation #group stage #group stage round 3 #tournament polls #group j #magi #magi the labyrinth of magic #magi labyrinth of magic #magi: the labyrinth of magic #urusei yatsura #urusei yatsura 2022

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multifandom-worlds · 4 months

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An Office Redecoration

Genre: Pure fluff, baby!

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: N/A

Author's note: I almost didn't finish this in time for Victor's birthday, but I did! A little self-indulgent fic for my first muse's birthday. Happy Birthday, Victor! Tagging: @darlingdummycassandra/@darling-dummy-blogs, @otome-and-fanfiction

It takes a lot of convincing for Victor to attend a lunch meeting; it took even more to convince him to participate in a lunch meeting on his birthday, no less. Reluctantly, Victor agreed, leaving his office empty for 3 hours—just enough time for Nicole to come in and redecorate for his birthday. Something she enjoyed doing every time this particular day came around.

Before they got together, Victor rarely celebrated his birthday - it was just another day to him, nothing special about getting older. Now, she makes it a point to make a big deal about it, to celebrate him and show him that he is worthy of celebrating the day. Today, she planned to decorate his office when he returns, complete with a red velvet cake she baked herself and presents - some homemade, most bought.

She was on her way to his office when she saw him coming out of the elevator. “Hey you, where are you off to?”

Victor faintly smiles, quite happy to see her, before walking over to her and kissing her gently. “I have a meeting I need to attend, which unfortunately means we’re going to have to reschedule our lunch, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

Nicole frowns, pretending as if she didn’t already know. “Oh no, that’s okay, my love. We can just have a dinner date when you've finished work. You should get going, can’t have Mr. Punctual running late.”

Victor lets out a chuckle before he gives her one last peck on the cheek before he heads out the main doors, leaving her alone. She texts her friends Violet and Cassie that the coast is clear and to come on in with the rest of the belongings. Nicole hops into the elevator, intending to meet her friends in his office. Also, because she has a key, she can unlock it.

Cassie and Violet get up to his office after 5 minutes, decorations and presents in hand, ready to transform his borning, minimalist office into a colourscape of decorations. Placing everything in a giant pile on his desk, the three girls set to work, Nicole decorating his desk, Violet standing on the couch to hang streamers from the ceiling, and Cassie ensuring the table was set up and organized with the gifts and cake. They talked, laughed, and often wasted time, making a task that should have only taken them 2 hours at most take them over 3 hours.

The sound of Victor clearing his throat caused the girls to jump. The 3 of them turn and look at him sheepishly, waiting for the verbal whipping they are about to receive. “And what do you 3 think you are doing?”

“It was Nik’s idea! I swear!” Cassie says, quickly hiding behind Nicole while Violet tries to sneak out behind Victor while he is distracted. “She wanted to do something special! She paid me to do it!”

“Thanks for throwing me under the bus, woman!” Nicole chuckles, walking over to her husband and placing a hand on his chest. “I wanted to do something special for your birthday; Vi and Cassie were more than willing to lend a hand and help me celebrate you. They even got you a few things. Let them all easy; it was my idea.”

“Yeah! Listen to your wife! Let us off easy, or I’m taking my gift back!” Violet says from the door. Victor turns to her, levelling her with his gaze. She squeaks before dashing out of the room, Cassie hot on her heels. “Love you, Nikki! If you’re still alive, text me later!” Violet calls from down the hall.

Nicole rolls her eyes before looking back at Victor, getting a read of him. “They really are innocent; this whole thing was my idea, love. Including the lunch meeting, I’m sorry, I just wanted to surprise you.”

Victor scans the room, looking at the carefully made decorations, the photos of them together lining his desk, and the 35 gifts all placed on the table and floor in the corner. “You didn’t have to do this for me, darling.” He says, regarding her again with a soft look in his eyes. She always found a way to make him feel loved.

“Both Cassie and Violet got you a couple of things, too, as a thank you for everything you’ve done for them. Although they never asked me, so lord only knows what they gave you.” Nicole laughs before walking over to the table and pouring Victor a drink. “As annoying as they can be, they both love you.”

Victor follows her, taking the drink from her hand and looking at the wide assortment of gifts before him before picking up a small, unassuming bag. “Text them to come back; they helped you; they should be here to celebrate, too. Plus, I’m going to need someone to clean up with. I’m dealing with your ass.” He chuckles, taking a sip.

It didn’t take long before Violet and Cassie were back in his office, drinks in their hand, sitting on the couch as Victor began opening his gifts, grabbing the same unassuming bag from before. “That looks like Violet’s handwriting.” he chuckles before opening it, seeing a lump of black fabric at the bottom. Further inspection reveals it's an apron that reads Mr. Good Looking is Cooking.

Victor looks at her as she fights the urge to contain her laughter. “You need to wear that the next time we are over for dinner! It’ll be so good!”

Victor rolls his eyes before reaching for another gift, a small package with Cassie’s name on it. He opens it to see several regular, sophisticated-looking ties until he reaches the last one. Pulling it out, he holds up a tie adorned with several different cat faces. Cassie points to one particularly grumpy-looking cat, “Look! It’s Victor!” Cassie laughs before pointing out the other cats. “The cute fluffy little kitten is me; Violet is the orange cat, and Nikki is the sophisticated-looking cat!’

Victor glares at her while she smiles innocently. “This is why you’re the grumpy cat, Victor!” She whines, hiding behind Nicole.

“You two are menaces, you know that?” Victor groans before letting out a small chuckle. They may be menaces, but he really did appreciate their gifts. He opens one of Nicole’s gifts next, hoping it isn’t something ridiculous but not putting it past her. “Tie clips and cuff links, thank you, my love.” Victor smiles, placing them down beside him.

***

Hours pass, the cake devoured and all the gifts are unwrapped, save for 2 - a bottle of whisky from Cassie, more ties from Violet, as well as some Shiba Inu plushies from her as well. All 3 of them got him cooking-related items or something food-related. His wife gave him a subscription to a whisky club plus new whisky glasses to go with it, a new leather wallet, and a few more odds and ends.

The two remaining gifts wait on the table as Victor and Nicole say goodbye to Violet and Cassie, shutting the door after they leave. “Why did you want me to save those two for after they’re gone, darling?” Victor asks, walking her back to the couch and taking the two gifts off the table as he goes by.

“Those two are quite special; I wanted to get your genuine reaction, not your measured ones with the others here.” She smiles, watching as he tears open the smaller of the two, revealing a silver and black Rolex Sky-Dweller watch.

“Baby…this is beautiful. I love it so much. Thank you.” He says, pulling her in for a kiss. He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against hers. “You’ve been so good to me this year, my love. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“There’s still one more, darling. This is my favourite gift, actually.” She hands him the last gift, her hands trembling slightly with nervous anticipation. Victor carefully opens it, revealing a black leather-bound book. Opening the front cover, he’s greeted with the photo they took on their first date. Flipping through the pages, pictures of them together at events, photos from dates, and even a few of their wedding photos line the pages.

Victor’s eyes well with tears, looking at the memories and sweet little notes and drawings she added. “I…don’t know what to say, my love. I think this is the best gift I have ever received. I love you so much it hurts. I don’t know what I did to deserve such a perfect wife, but you made my birthday so special. I am never going to forget this day. Thank you.”

#victor li #mr love queen's choice #victor mlqc #mlqc victor #mr love victor #love and producer victor #Victor Li MLQC #mlqc #mlqc fluff #mlqc fanfic

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sweetblossoms · 1 year

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saw your post abt rapunzel manipulating tim in their convo and god hard agree it Is concerning that so many ppl didn't see it. also crazy to me that ppl are mad at tim and defending rapunzel, saying that they would have taken the book too because tim was being rude etc. to me it seemed that both tim the character and ally the player Wanted to believe that rapunzel wasn't part of the plan and was good but just kind of strange, and both are successfully fooled. tim absolutely fumbles the interaction and ally could have played things better, but rapunzel was so clearly in charge of the conversation, leading him into saying worse and worse things and putting his foot in his mouth while tim was genuinely trying to be nice. tim is awkward and blunt and eccentric with Everyone, it's weird that ppl are saying he was being singularly rude to her or patronizing her or that he deserved to get the book taken. that interaction was clumsy as hell and so many words could have been chosen better but tim so clearly was trying so hard to fix his initial fuck up and be friendly w her in the same weird way he talks to everyone. I don't see how ppl came out of that scene on her side even if tim was a little rude and unfortunate w his word choice, and it's concerning to see ppl being like "ha take that stupid old man!!" abt the book being taken + in defense of a character we met an episode and a half ago and who we have been told outright is an expert at deceiving people. the princesses are so so interesting as characters and the morals going on are complex and that's a whole different conversation, but I feel like no matter whether you love rapunzel or not, ppl should be able to recognize that she was manipulating tim in that moment and taking advantage of his trusting disposition. not trying to start discourse in your ask box ofc!!! I've just seen No One Else express discomfort w rapunzel in that scene

anon this ask has been living in my head rent free since you sent it, i've been stewing over how to respond because y e s. for context, check out this post to save discourse on main (this is about to be a long one of fan critic analysis, get your popcorn and settle in if you wanna read, this is the longest post i've ever made), im gonna put my thoughts and response under a read more, sososo many spoilers under the cut read at your own risk

These were all in the replies and tags and I want to reply to all of them bc they're all worthy of being talked about bc i feel like the majority of the fandom is almost scared to critique?? So like let's talk about it since nobody else seems to be taking this approach from what I can tell (thank you to you anon for being on my side as well as the rest of you who are screaming with me) I will begin by saying that my original post is not critiquing ally the player, or any of the other players. i understand that they were in that dome, filming a session of dungeons and dragons, and improv acting and roleplaying for many hours on end with back to back episodes. i kind of get ally and the rest of the table maybe just wanting to "hope for the best", especially ally as they are quite a "hope for the good in others" type of person. it's frustrating from a viewer perspective sure, but i totally dont blame anyone ever for making a "wrong" or "non-optimal" choice while playing a ttrpg, they just have the misfortune of being filmed while doing so. i myself have made tons of bag fumbles while playing dnd, even when i thought everything through ten times over. so anything i have said or will say forward isn't to put any shouldering on to the people playing these silly storybook characters, like, i Get It

What i do want to critique is the fan response, which is the more worrying one!!! like i said in my original post, i was surprised by my d20 watch buddy having a similar response to ally. the total "oh, maybe she's just quirky bc of the self isolation, maybe she's autism rep" approach. my friend, love her to death, is also one of those "sees the best in others and hope everyone is always aiming to be their best selves" type of person, very similar to ally. i came online after that episode expecting everybody on the fanbase level to be screaming with me in a "i told you so!!" way

instead. i came online and saw people just on the attack and the defense in absolutely skewed ways!! out of NOWHERE, all these fans have come on to post about how "tim was patronizing her, and thats why she stole the book" "wow i would have hated being called girly and honey as well" "wow these conversations really didnt go their way why was tim so mean to her :(" or the opposite of "rapunzel is the evilest person to ever exist bc xyz these princesses are evil villains" or "we need to protect these princesses bc they just didnt know any better uwu"

i feel like, on a fan level, me and you anon (+all these lovely folks in the notes of that post) were the only ones screaming "hold on, that is literally not the same media i just watched"

i've seen before a lot of people be like "wow, media literacy is at an all time low" and i never really understood that until i saw the reactions after that episode. as a fan or viewer watching any media, we have the privilege of seeing more about the media than the people who are creating it. that's the best joy of being a viewer, we get to sit back and spot those foreshadowing moments and bite our nails in suspense when the music goes creepy and see the artwork and overall, we have the privilege of catching vibes that maybe those acting in it do not. this leads to those bonding moments of "i told you so" "wow im biting my nails and pacing" "oh they're gonna REGRET that". and, an "oh my god no no no do not hug her she wants to take your book god now she's feeling you up with her hair she's looking for the book ROLL INITIATIVE!!!!". it leads to glorious moments of ~dramatic irony~, a literary term for literally when something is happening in a story and the readers can catch it, but the protagonist probably didnt bc they're not seeing the full picture. While watching, from my perspective, yeah it was frustrating to watch the player bag fumble turn after turn, but it's a game of dnd, they film so many back to back, they don't get the same experience as us. however.

brennan did a great job at dropping the foreshadowing, to the point of not even so much subtly foreshadowing, he DIRECTLY TOLD THEM rapunzel was a liar and uses her words as knives. like someone pointed out, the players even PAID for that information, with the golden bridle. by the time they met these princesses, they probably knew the most about rapunzel's true nature over all the other princesses, that she uses her charisma to her advantage. the players made their choice to do the diplomatic route, to split up and chat. ally did the right thing for picking rapunzel with tim's 19 charisma stat, it would have been charisma against charisma, and an even playing field for someone they have been explicitly told is a master of words and deceit.

as fans, we've seen these episodes edited and put back to back. clues are lined up in a row. was it frustrating to see ally playing tim in a naïve way? sure. but tim's been pretty naïve this whole time, so you could stack it up to a character choice. what's more frustrating is seeing the responses of viewers being blindsided by the book thieving and chalking it all up to "evil vs good" and rapunzel's choice shaking them to their cores.

by this point in the story, by the time you get to that episode, rapunzel already gave enough bad vibes with the talk of her charismatic deceits and with her hair everywhere spying on them. maybe that last one wasn't explicitly stated, but it was heavily implied to the point of gerard writing the plans on a note instead of wanting them said out loud by elody, a scene that happened way before tim's. by the time we see rapunzel get to the kitchen, she is INSTANTLY catty. someone described her on the post as "eldritch regina george" and. yes. exactly. eldritch regina george. from our privileged spot as a viewer, rapunzel comes in, puts on the fake smile, puts on her fake tone, and says "what are you doing in here? :)". she was already ready to fight timothy. that first sentence was hostile. she was OFFENDED and checking on tim to make sure mother goose wasn't counter-spying. i honestly didnt think that would have to have been explicitly stated, she was in attack mode and plastered the fake smile for a show so that she had the upperhand in the conversation that was about to happen. this is something that fans should have at least caught on to right off the bat, we've been explicitly told that she is fake more than she is honest for the sake of being a "performative person"

the conversation happens, and she starts becoming more verbally hostile. "i dont know, what SHOULD we do hehe. it's ruined now :)" "no use in crying over spilt milk *pours milk with hair on the floor with a smile* oh no :)" "...or if it was on purpose :/ :)" "why dont you go get a mop :)" "i chose to be charming :)"

every sentence she replied with was carefully chosen. as viewers, we can watch brennan's face in full clarity of intimidation. we can have the knowledge that has been provided to not trust rapunzel as she is a charismatic spy who has words for knives. in my opinion, even without those clues before now, her show that she put on in the kitchen should have been enough as is to show that she is acting maliciously and with hostility. the smile is there as to not incite physical violence on tim's part bc then it would make TIM look like the bad guy if he attacked first. by the time she goes in for the hug. im sorry. but ally the player should have caught that, the whole table should have caught that, and-more importantly-the fans should have caught that. we all watched the same thing. we have all been told the same information. to purposefully ignore all of the red flags just to pull a "well tim was kind of mean and patronizing, and rapunzel doesnt have social skills from being locked in a tower, i forgive her, wow i didnt see that coming" is absolutely *batshit*

the lack of people catching on is what concerns me. i've met TONS of people growing up (sorry here, im all for women's wrongs, but mainly cis-girls tbh) who act like rapunzel does. from middle school and high school bullies/mean girls. mean girls at college. from parents or teachers or bosses. from normal adults in my life. they always have the same tone and inflections in the same places. the same faces with the wrinkled nose. the same sickly sweet smile. brennan played rapunzel, a known manipulator, perfectly. to a T. he embodied it fully. people JUST LIKE RAPUNZEL walk amongst us every day. i can guarantee you that even these fans that didnt catch it have met people like rapunzel in their own lives.

rapunzel is a character yes, but she is a character that mimics a masterclass manipulator. she IS the mean girl, the regina george. it leaked out of her every word, tone, and inflection. every single thing told about her and shown was, in no world, some "uwu the sweet bean was locked in a tower and doesnt have social skills". that was her origin, her start point. just like sleeping beauty locked in a castle, snow locked in her coffin. rapunzel directly says "i chose to be charming. :)." she had her origin of no social skills, her sad origin of being locked in isolation in her tower, and said "this is my greatest flaw, so i am going to dedicate my life to improving this skill bc it's what stopping me from achieving my goals." she trained her social skills to be good. too good. so good that she hopes nobody will catch her sweet charming self in the act of malicious intentions. this. was. directly. stated.

it worries me on a psychological level of the fans. yes it shows a lack of media literacy, something is frustrating on a fan-to-fan level. it shows a lack of ability of critical thinking. it shows a lack of ability to participate in dramatic irony, a necessary literary device to instill tension into a horror campaign. but also, and to what is probably my main point in this novel long hot take: it has real world implications. mean girls like rapunzel are a guarantee in life. i'm sorry, but it's true. maybe the person acts differently, maybe they aren't as obvious or more obvious. but these people walk amongst us. they use the same tone and same cadence to their words. these manipulators see what they want, and devise a way to convince the person into giving them what they want. rapunzel did not use the Charm Person spell, or the Friendship spell. She used. her words. like a normal human being. and by doing so, we as the fans were able to catch on and should have had a moment of "RUN GOOSE, RUN AWAY, NO DONT LET HER HUG YOU". but instead, a lot of people turn a blind eye to these manipulators in their lives. they pull a "aw but they have a tragic backstory, they're just confused and need love :/" "they cant be THAT bad..." they see a sweet little smile on the face and an upticked tone of voice, and go "well, they're playing nice, so now i have to play nice bc otherwise im the bad guy here" which!!! you do not!!

this is exactly how manipulators worm their ways in, this is what ALLOWS manipulation to work in its various forms. it's how people get trapped in abusive relationships. it's how people get scammed. on a personal end, i lived a narcissistic manipulator for a long time growing up, and it was exhausting. once you could put down the rose colored glasses and see right through the act, you notice how every inch of their mannerisms are performative. everything they say and do comes with the caveat of them wanting something from you and are trying to butter you up in the meantime. if you catch and call onto it, they IMMEDIATELY turn on you, they sneer and retreat to their next target who it will fool. the cycle continues, the next target is selected.

on a fan level, if we as fans cannot play into dramatic irony as a practice, if we cannot exit our seats of mind to catch on to those "eldritch regina george" quirks at the bud in a piece of fictional media where the puzzle has been handed on a silver platter, then there is a l o t more work to be done on 1) general media literacy 2) ANY fandom perception on media and 3) general awareness of how to spot and deal with manipulators in real life. if you can't catch on to it in a silly fictional ttrpg media, how do you expect to catch on to it in real life? how many of these same fans are trapped in manipulative relationships around them? how many more will they fall for bc of the "oh no but they have tragic backstory so it's forgiven uwu"? as fans, you cant sit there in the same breath saying that tim was condescending to rapunzel and then follow it up with not noticing what was ACTUALLY happening in real time. if you wanna say that rapunzel was ALLOWED to be a manipulator because of her origin, what other manipulators are you defending in your real life? how many of these manipulators continue their tricks BECAUSE they know naïve people exist and will fall for it? how many have been enabled in the same cycle bc it worked on one so it'll work on the next?

i wish i had a fun way to conclude this absolutely massive chunk of fandom critique gibberish, but i just dont. i wish i could find a more comprehensive way to scream about this, so take this post as me SCREAMING about this, anon my dm's are open if we wanna rant some more

#i havent entered fandom discourse in awhile in ANY fandom but this one has been bothering me so fucking much #tldr anon my messages are open if you wanna scream with me some more #anon #ask #neevrafter spoilers #neverafter #d20 #dimension 20 #d20 spoilers

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jokertrap-ran · 20 days

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[スタオケ] La Corda d'Oro Starlight Orchestra Main Story Chapter 2-1 Translation

*Starlight Orchestra Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Main story tag will be #Main Starlight

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2 Years Ago, Mito.

???: Real lame, don’cha think?

???: He’s pathetic as a delinquent.

???: And equally pathetic when trying to play at being part of the Student Council.

???: …HAH?

???: We can’t seriously be tolerating this.

???: Probably.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Sakuya: What, no one’s here again?

Sakuya: We’ve successfully held our concert, and we’ve even pasted our posters up at the Music Education department, yet we don’t seem to be getting any new members.

Hayate: The people in music ed aren’t like those in general ed. We don’t exactly have the time to go parading around with such a suspiciously shady Orchestra.

Sakuya: If so… then what does that make you, exactly…?

Tomoharu: Hahaha. He does have a point.

⊳ Choice: It’s not anything to be joking about

Tomoharu: Pfft- Sorry. I do suppose it’s bad to joke about this, considering our situation.

⊳ Choice: You’re completely open to jibes

Hayate: Wha- Is that how you treat someone who lends you a helping hand!?

Tomoharu: Hmm… But if that’s how it is, then I don’t think we’ll have much luck recruiting members in Seiso Academy.

Sakuya: Yeah. Maybe we should try appealing in a different place—

Ginga: Oh, you’re all gathered?

Ginga: Ready to head out? Plum, natto and history-rich streets await us all!

Kazuma: Do you remember Hashizumi-sensei, from the Mito Symphony Orchestra, who was in attendance for our concert?

Kazuma: She has graciously offered to introduce us to a place where we can hold our future concerts if any.

Tomoharu: Eh? We’re going to hold our next concert in Mito?

Sakuya: Isn’t that kinda far?

Ginga: Cease your chatter! Yeesh, you lot. For people who are aiming to go global, your worldview really is tiny!

Ginga: Isn’t Ibaraki just a moment away if you go by the Joban Expressway?

Hayate: Mito, huh? It would be great if we could get Osakabe-san to join us…

Hayate: He was the Trumpets’ leader from last year’s Starlight Orchestra.

Hayate: He won 4th place in the Brass Section of the Jr. Classical Music Concours just as he’d entered his first year in high school.

Hayate: We were in different sections, so I didn’t really get to interact much with him. But, he’s reliable and someone worthy of respect.

Ginga: Heh? He sounds like an amazing person. Alrighty then, let’s try our damndest to induct him into our ranks.

Hayate: If he’s willing to join the Starlight Orchestra again, then…

Hayate: Maybe there’s some helping this misfit of a Starlight Orchestra, as well as how messy this room is.

Ginga: Huh?

Hayate: I’m talking about this sloppy mess in here— Empty cup noodle cups, pet bottles, and that barely standing mountain of papers just piled together in a heap.

Hayate: He’s also the Student Council President of his school, and very neat about things. I’m sure he’ll put the right to things here.

Hayate: I’m seeing a glimmer of hope here, (L/n).

Ginga: I, on the other hand, am absolutely horrified…

Sakuya: Well, it works out for you too, doesn’t it?

Tomoharu: If we have brass instrument players joining us, that’ll also mean that we’ll be able to play a wider variety of songs.

⊳ Choice: Let’s head out to Mito then!

Tomoharu: Yes! It’s going to be fun, don’t you think, senpai?

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Nono: You’re going to Mito? That’s brilliant~!

Nono: That place is a noted place of connection of a really amazing Orchestra Conductor from Berlin ♪

Nono: I look forward to seeing the superb new members who’ll be joining us, Concertmistress!

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬Main Starlight♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 1-14) Next Part: (Chapter 2-2)

#金色のコルダスターライトオーケストラ #スタオケ #Starlight Orchestra #otome #Translations #Kiniro no Corda #La Corda d'Oro Starlight Orchestra #Main Starlight

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nerdyjournals · 15 days

Text

1.1 - Rise

Summary: Beginning to doubt his place, 1003 meets Smith after they break into their little utopia. After their initial encounter, 1003 starts to see his world in a whole new way. Is the system he lives for truly a lie or is Smith another test to prove his loyalty? Ship: Bang Chan X GN!reader Genre: sci-fi, mystery, action fiction

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1003 sat at his desk, inputting the count of today’s collection. He looked over to the security feed from time to time and took note that everyone was where they should be. The older occupants of Dome 1B were going about their household duties as the younger ones were leaving their lessons.

He ran his hands down his face as the final count was sent to the main hub.

At only nineteen years old, 1003 was placed in charge of Dome 1B. They were in charge of planting, growing, and harvesting the berries needed for the Domes’ mandatory serums and medications.

“1003, this is base,” the intercom blasted into the quiet room. “Your reports have been received for the day. Please confirm the identification number for season finalization.”

“Identification number 1003, requesting finalization for the report from 10-17 to 12-19.”

“Request granted. Conducting nightly security check. Please stand by.” A pause was followed by three beeps. “Area secured. Please proceed to the dock for tonight’s serums and supplements. Have a good night, 1003.”

His computer shut off and he was left in silence once again. With a sigh, he stood up and walked out of the little office.

The Dome’s living quarters were full of stark white walls to match the nine occupants’ mandatory uniforms. If he could admit it to anyone, 1003 would say that they hurt his eyes.

He arrived at the dock and spotted the familiar cart. As he pushed it along, he went through the checklist provided and separated what each occupant needed. Loading the cart onto the lift, 1003 scanned himself through and took his supplements.

“Good evening, 1003,” one of the older occupants greeted. This is 0408, 1003’s right hand man. “Shall I gather everyone for curfew?”

“If you’d please. Base has provided a few things they would like relayed before the distribution.” 1003 flipped through the clipboard. “How is the newest transfer?”

“0915 is doing well. I do recommend we move him to transcription as soon as he is ready. His language skills need some work before he can be considered for a District. Other than that, 0208 has bonded to him quite well. Relationships between the Districts will be strong once the time comes.”

“Noted.” 1003 nodded his head. “Proceed.”

0408 turned away and went to gather the other two elders in the area, 1125 and 0811, to help gather the younger occupants.

The eight occupants stood lined up against the wall outside each of their rooms. 1003 cleared his throat and faced them all.

“Evening everyone,” he said. “I have a few things to relay, so please listen carefully.” He held up the clipboard. “Number one, anything odd or out of place must be reported right away to 0408 or myself or a drone.” He pointed to a camera on the wall. “Other Domes have reported break-ins from Outliers and have handled them accordingly.” One of the younger ones flinched at the implications. “Number two, no one is permitted to leave their dorms until the morning alarm. This is just to ensure that any movement seen is assumed to be an Outlier. Those discovered will be handled accordingly.”

All heads turned toward the large red bulb that hung above the security office window. It never turned off while they were awake.

“Last but not least, the nine of us were chosen to lead the next generation of the Districts. Each of us are to be accordingly assigned upon graduation day. The Program has deemed the lot of us worthy to lead what comes next. Let’s not give them reason to reconsider.” He looked over them with a steel gaze before sighing. “Now, let’s proceed with the scan and nightly routines.”

1003 went about the nightly routine, scanning everyone’s wrist and distributing the proper medications. He stopped in front of 0915 and made a face as the computer beeped with an error - the fifth of since 0915’s transfer. 1003 wiped the scanner on his shirt and tried again with success.

He bid the eight of them good night and sent them off to bed.

—

His last task was almost done before a series of bangs coming from above.

“Notice number one, 1003. Notice number one,” he murmured to himself as he came to a stop. “I’m going to get in so much trouble.”

One of the vents was kicked open and a body dropped from the ceiling. Their clothes were black and gray, a contrast against the clean and crisp walls of the Dome.

“Finally!” They exclaimed, stretching out their limbs. “Man, I thought those vents were getting smaller!” Looking around, a few of their joint popped before they spotted 1003. “Oh hello there. Who are you?”

“Uh…” he stuttered out. “I’m 1003 and you’re not supposed to be here.”

“Oh really? Then why was it so easy to break in?” They looked around again. “I’m looking for Felix, Lee Felix. About,” they raised a hand, “this high, baby face, and a voice as deep as the Marianas Trench.”

“Are you talking about 0915?”

“You guys go by your birthdays? Cute.” They crossed their arms. “So are you going to tell me where he is or do I have to threaten you?”

1003 watched as they pulled a collapsible rod from their hip. It buzzed with electricity.

“You’re an Outlier? I have half a mind to report you.”

“What about the other half?”

“It wants your name.”

“You can call me Smith.” They spun the rod before tucking it away and looking up at the walls. “Do you have anywhere else we can talk?”

“Get in.” 1003 opened the bottom compartment and gestured for Smith to get in. "You are so lucky the security camera is facing the other way. Now get back into the cart. They won't question why I brought this to my office if I put 0915's file with the cart for the return."

His heart pounded a thousand miles a minute as he made his way into the security office.

He didn’t know what to do. There wasn’t protocol in place about what to do if an Outlier was encountered, let alone in custody. The drones would be offline until he activated the night mode, and he obviously wouldn’t be until this was all handled.

Opening the cart, confusion filled him to find it empty.

“That was really cramped, you know.” The voice came from behind him. The “guest” was sitting at his desk flipping through 0915’s files and writing in a notebook of theirs.

“How did–? What?” 1003 cried out as he double checked the cart for any other escapes.

“Also, I don’t like waiting. I’ve been here for about ten minutes.”

“How’d you even know which one I was going to?”

“There are no other offices in your dome. Plus, your number is on the door.” They stood from the desk, stuffing the book in a pocket. “You know, I thought this would be more of a challenge. Now, I do believe it is time for me to go.”

His arm shot out to block the path.

“No! You’re going to sit down and explain to me what the fuck is going on, who you really are, and what is so important about 0915?” He watched as their eyes widened. “None of the Domes have ever been broken into until recently. So why now? What do you savages want?”

“Savages?” They murmured as 1003 stared them down. “We’re the savages? As far as I can recall, we used to be friends.”

“Friends?!” A deep, sarcastic chuckle left his chest. “As if I’d ever be friends with someone who wants to ruin the haven laid out for us. You’re just jealous that you and your little friends weren’t selected.”

“Is that really what you think?” Smith chuckled as the lights began to flicker. With one black cover, they disappeared from 1003’s view and appeared behind him. “What’s the last thing you remember before being assigned to your dome?” He remained silent, trying to think back. “What were your parents’ names? Your siblings? What about the friends you left behind? Bambam still talks about you, you know?”

1003 was at a loss for words, only able to put together one question.

“Who are you?”

“Like I said, you can call me Smith. I’m from District 9.

-----

Tag List: @snowyquokka @candypop1504 @scarlet789 @tinyelfperson @rylea08

#kpop fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #skz fic #skz imagines #skz au #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids texts #stray kids text imagines #bang chan imagines #bang chan x reader

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goodluckdetective · 2 months

Text

TUMBLR VERSION

FIC: SLEEPING GIANTS 1/2

Ship: Durge/Astarion

Fandom: BG3

Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore

Rating: M

AO3

Summary:

Astarion earns his freedom covered in Cazador’s blood. The Former Chosen of Bhaal earns their freedom drowning in their own. A look at two different aftermaths of breaking free.

Notes:

Hello and welcome to whatever this is. Like one part “the horror of being controlled and falling in love with someone who knows that same horror” one part “you can kill the puppeteer but the scars from the strings don’t leave as soon as you cut them” one part “the game doesn’t have time for a long introspection after these two big scenes but that’s why fanfic writers exist” and one part “uses durge and Astarion as character foils and enjoys the light bouncing back and forth.” The background ships are very background which is why they aren’t in the main tags. The title comes from the Crane Wives Song of the same name. This is two chapters but each can be read on their own. The second chapter I'm aiming to have up in like two weeks max? (I also want to shoutout edelgarfield's series "cardinal, sunrise, morning star" which gave me the idea to do the Urge sections in second person. It's fantastic and you should read it.)

FIC BELOW:

Ever since Rune heard the name Cazador Starr, they’d thought about killing him.

It was a nice use of channeling the Urge when it got bad, turning the desire to tear and maim onto a worthy target. Rune had pictured casting hold monster to hold the man in place while they’d cast lightning bolt right between Starr’s eyes. They’d considered using insect plague and watching as bugs tore the man apart piece by piece as he screamed for death that wouldn’t come. Once they’d learned how to cast Daylight, they’d smiled at the mental image of forcing the vampire lord to stick his head directly into the sphere.

Like Rune’s other urges, they resisted acting on them (though they did relish casting Daylight right in front of Starr’s face). But that resistance was only so Astarion could get the kill instead. It was his to have; Rune was not going to take it from him unless they were asked to.

(If Astarion had died, if you had failed to get him free before the dark ritual completed, then Cazador Starr would be dead by your hand. You would ensure he lived long enough to know the agony he deserved. You’d kept Bonedaughter’s notes about what she’d done to you, back in Moonrise. One could get very clever with torture when someone refused to die. You thought of taking inspiration from the kennels, when you’d looked at the history of your lover’s suffering and saw potential instead-)

Rune pushed the thought out of their head and shook off the sneer that started to creep across their face. They had to keep it together, keep the Urge under lock and key. Astarion, who was currently covered in the blood of his 200 year nightmare, could not afford for Rune to lose it.

They watched as Astarion wept on the stone tiles, wanting to embrace him but knowing it might not be wanted. Instead, they stepped close enough so if Astarion desired, he could easily reach out and touch them. They didn’t get a chance to see what he would choose because the rest of Astarion’s siblings came to greet them. As the matter of settling the spawn was resolved and the fate of the Gur’s children revealed, Rune spoke only to clarify events and back up whatever Astarion decided. It wasn’t until they made it out of the palace that they said anything somewhat resembling an order, and even then, they chose each word with care.

“We can call it a day after this if people need it,” Rune said, looking at Astarion. Everyone needed the rest, they were all exhausted, but Rune would not force such a thing. Should Astarion wish to keep going, Rune would send Shadowheart and Karlach back to camp before sharing a list of tasks that were mostly errands, but essential ones; buying potions, collecting materials. Things Astarion could do with shaky hands and an unsteady step. He wasn’t physically hurt, Shadowheart had ensured that. Should Astarion need to keep busy, to put off the part of the day where he could sit down and take it all in, then Rune would ensure he had it.

Rune was well practiced quieting their own loud thoughts with busywork.

Astarion agreed to the rest, and Rune mentally filled away their list of busy tasks for later. Instead, the party headed back to the Elfsong where they had decided to set up camp ever since Astarion’s siblings tried to drag him back. It wasn’t as good as a private residence, but vampires would still need to be invited into their rooms should they wish to enter, and that was far better security than the open air. With Cazador dead, they could save some coin by camping outside again, but Rune knew Astarion would want some privacy, and that was better obtained in their shared rooms.

As they approached the Elfsong, Rune took a look at their partner. Astarion had put his armor back on, but he was still drenched in blood. That would draw some attention, even in a place used to mercenaries.

Back in the mansion, between freeing the spawn and running into the Gur, Rune had handed him each piece of armor after Astarion asked for them. They watched as Astarion struggled to secure the clasps and resisted the urge to help, knowing they needed Astarion to ask for their assistance first, less they bring back memories Astarion wished he could forget.

“Shadowheart, Karlach, go ahead,” Rune said. Karlach tilted her head, and when Rune nodded, she grabbed Shadowheart’s shoulder. They departed inside the tavern, Karlach pulling the door behind her so it didn’t slam shut. Astarion didn’t even notice them leave. Frankly, he didn’t seem to notice anything at all, a wide eyed blank expression to his face that Rune was horribly familiar with. Rune reached for the clasps on their cloak and released it from their armor, before holding it out to Astarion. He turned to look at them, but that vacant expression was still there, like he was looking through Rune rather than at them.

“To hide the blood a bit, until we get to our rooms,” Rune explained, lifting the cloak higher. “So people don’t stare.” They would have cast invisibility on him, but they’d burned through most of their energy entering the mansion and fighting Cazador. If they knew it wouldn’t upset Astarion later, they would overextend themselves and cast it anyway.

(You cast far more spells than you should have, hoping for a brief glimpse of fear on Cazador’s face when your lightning bolt tore through his assembled minions. You’d hoped he knew what you were, you saw the book in his chambers after all; he’d been reading about Bhalspawn. Would he know what he’d brought down upon himself, for treating Astarion as a stain on his shoe? Would he realize you were the most dangerous thing in his manor turned tomb? )

Astarion’s gaze sharped and he took a quick breath in, like he’d been rapidly thrust back into his body from wherever he’d mentally gone. Rune forced themself away from the Urge in tandem. He took the cloak and wrapped it around himself, putting up the hood. It was a little large on him, Rune was taller than the vampire by half a foot, but in these circumstances, that was ideal. Rune heard him mumble something that sounded like a thank you.

He didn’t need to thank them: not for this. Rune held out a hand, should Astarion want to grab it, and when he didn’t, lowered it without comment.

“Let’s go straight to the room. Follow me.”

The Elfsong was loud and boisterous at this hour, people settling in for the evening. A bard played a jaunty tune on their fiddle on one of the stages and Rune briefly wanted to smash their instrument for daring to be so cheerful. No one paid them much mind as they went directly to the stairs and headed up to the rooms on the second floor. The room to the main suite was open and Rune glanced at everyone as they walked inside. Everyone else was crammed inside the small space, almost comically so, paying attention to Shadowheart who was talking in a low whisper. Likely explaining what happened in the depths of the Starr palace.

Rune walked past the group, shaking their head at everyone inside before Astarion followed behind them. Their room was close to the entrance and Rune closed the door behind Astarion as soon as he was inside.

“Alright, we’re here.” Rune took a look at the tiny room and their gaze went instantly to the wooden bathtub in the far right corner. It was an extra cost to obtain at the Elfsong, but given everyone hadn’t had a proper bath in weeks, it was worth the coin. Rune didn’t really get much out of baths, they didn’t find the way of bathing relaxing with the Urge constantly humming in the background, but they understood how it might be appealing to someone who didn’t deal with their particular affliction. They turned back to Astarion. He wasn’t quite looking through everything anymore, but he still seemed lost, his gaze darting all over the room.

“If you want, I can run you a bath. For the blood.” Rune regretted the addition as soon as it left their mouth. What else would the bath be for? Stupid, stupid. “Would you like that?”

Astarion snapped his head up to look at them. When he spoke, his tone was as sharp as his fangs. “I can run my own bath, I’m not an invalid.”

Rune expected this at some point; the deflection, the attempt to hide away his own wounds by lashing out at others. They didn’t take the bait, instead focusing on their main point.

“That’s not an answer.”

The fight drained out of Astarion in an instant. His shoulders drooped, a sigh escaping his lips. He looked so very tired.

“Yes, you may,” he said and with that, Rune got to work.

The wooden tubs at the Elfsong were enchanted, which Rune suspected was why they had such a high rental price. By activating the cantrips on the side, one could fill or empty the tub with water without going to the task of bringing water up from the kitchen. Heating said water was another matter, and for that, Rune’s magical powers would suffice. They stuck their hand into the water once it filled the tub and cast Prestidigitation. Steam came off the top of the surface, not hot enough to burn but enough to be pleasant, and they removed their hand, wiping off the excess water onto their robes. When they turned to Astarion, he’d already peeled himself out of his armor, but his smallclothes remained. Rune gestured to the tub.

“Alright, it should be fine.” They got back onto their feet and took a step away from the tub. “I can wait outside if you want, or go downstairs.”

Rune would prefer to stay, if this was their decision to make. Not to gaze at Astarion’s body, but to be able to remind themselves that he was alive, that the ritual had failed.

There was a moment, back at the manor, when Rune thought it was all over. When they’d looked to their side to see Astarion gone, suddenly across the room in the same hellish bindings as his fellow spawn. In that instant, before Astarion screamed at them to free him, they’d feared the ritual was done, that Cazador had succeeded. That all that would remain of a man who responded to their heritage with empathy and stole them extra ink for their journal was their memories and the cruel visage of Cazador Starr.

No, Rune would rather stay. Here, they could easily remind themselves how things had actually gone. But should Astarion want them to go, they would. They would walk downstairs, order a pint of ale, and rely on their faulty memory to remind them.

Astarion walked over to the tub and poked the surface of the water. It rippled, and he looked down in it, like he thought he could see his own reflection if he waited long enough. After a moment, he looked back to Rune.

“Stay?”

Rune nodded and went to pull over a chair to sit in as Astarion fully undressed and got in the water. Before they sat down, they grabbed Astarion’s armor and pulled it over to the chair. After they were seated, they got started casting prestidigitation on Astarion’s armor. The blood came off easily enough and when they were done, they looked up at the vampire. Astarion was sitting in the tub, knees curled up to his chest, and wiping blood off his arms. It turned the water a light pink.

“Want me to talk or no?” Rune offered, noting a distant look creeping back into Astarion’s eyes.

“Talk. Please not about-“ Astarion cut off, shuddering. “Anything else.”

Rune wracked their brain for an appropriate topic. Anything related to the Gortash, Bhaal or the Elder Brain was a bad idea. Magical theory could work, Rune was picking up a bit from Gale, but they would rather not bore Astarion to death. After some consideration between choosing one of Volo’s stories to mock (potentially fun, but then they’d have to go to the effort to remember one of his stories) or Rune’s thoughts on the decor of the Elfsong (alright, but Shar’s temple and the Goblin’s base had set the bar low), they finally stumbled upon something with potential.

“I’ve been trying to convince Gale to let me be his wingman if he decides he wants to get back out there,” Rune mused. They knew they had the perfect topic when Astarion snorted, bubbles coming up on the tub. The conversation of Gale’s post-Mystra rebound was a topic of the camp, and for good reason; Gale seemed to have finally realized his former relationship with the Goddess wasn’t a healthy one. Recently Wyll saw him trying to flirt with another wizard from Sorcerous Sundries, use of illusions included. Given the amount of dark topics that dominated camp these days, the party had jumped to gossip over such low stakes.

Gale thankfully didn’t mind and appeared a combination of amused and touched by their collective interest in his happiness. He’d indulged them by offering to consider letting one of them play wingman and Lae’zel, Wyll and Rune had all jumped at the opportunity. Wyll had offered because he was deeply enamored with true love and romance. Rune had offered because they hated Mystra.

Lae’zel had offered because Astarion bribed her with a nice amount of gold pieces to throw her hat in the ring. That, and she was determined to prove that her direct “I want to taste you” approach did actually work on more than just Shadowheart.

“So far, he seems to be favoring Wyll’s pitch,” Rune continued, leaning back in the chair. It felt nice to relax somewhat. They hadn’t realized how tense they’d been sitting until then. “He wants to take Gale to a local bar favored by mages around here, which I will admit, isn’t a bad idea.”

Astarion hummed. He was no longer curled into a ball, instead scrubbing away the blood on his torso.

“But if I can convince Karlach to tell me where she used to go after working out, I think I might manage to change his mind.” Convincing Karlach to do so would be difficult, Rune thought, as she was unofficially on Wyll’s team. But Rune wasn’t above bribery and they’d managed to loot a rather shiny greataxe that they thought might loosen her lips.

“You think he’s looking for someone muscular?”

“Did you hear what he said about “invigorating stimulation” back when we were fighting those goblins? If he’s looking for that kind of “stimulation” then Karlach’s old haunts are the best bet.”

Astarion chuckled and Rune hid their grin by ducking their head down. It wasn’t his full laugh, Rune didn’t expect to hear that after the day he’d had, but Gods it was nice to see him smile and mean it.

They continued like that, talking about other silly gossip, until Astarion was done. Rune threw him a towel and watched his eyebrows raise as he pressed his hand into the fabric.

“Did you warm this towel?”

Rune had, using prestidigitation a few seconds earlier. They’d gotten the idea from Wyll, who back at Last Light, had given out freshly warm blankets to those they’d freed from Moonrise Towers after their prison break. Rune took note of how the prisoners seemed to relax as they touched the warm fabric. Interesting how such small comforts still provided solace after such terrible cruelty.

“Too much?”

Astarion was already wrapping it around himself. “No, it’s perfect.” He shifted his weight from one foot to another and looked to Rune with a conflicted expression. “I need some time to think.”

Rune got up and headed towards the door. Astarion had gone through a lot today and Rune knew what it was like to have a lot on the mind. “No problem. I’ll be around if you need me. You can use the tadpole if it’s an emergency.”

Astarion relaxed and nodded once. Satisfied he would call for them if needed, Rune left the room and closed the door behind them. The rest of their companions were still in the main suite living space and they all turned to Rune as they left. They’d clearly been hovering; the book in Gale’s lap was one Rune knew he already read twice over and if Lae’zel kept sharpening that dagger, it might chip.

Rune adored them all. Despite all their respective burdens, all of them were happy to make a detour to take down Cazador. It was the same with saving Wyll’s father or helping Shadowheart find her parents or potentially breaking into Hell for Lae’zel. They all cared.

If this was what having a family felt, like no wonder people were so found of theirs.

“How’s Fangs?” Karlach asked, fiddling her thumbs together. Rune walked forward and shrugged.

“Processing; he asked for some time alone. Now,” they reached into their pockets and pulled out their journal, opening it up to where they kept a ribbon as a bookmark. “Let’s talk about supplies and inventory.”

The resounding groan from the rest of the party was a welcome sign of normalcy.

__________

After an hour and a half of debating what to sell and what to keep, shortly followed by dinner, Rune headed downstairs to the first floor of the tavern. They would have normally stuck to the rooms, content with the company, but they couldn’t stop looking at the door to their own room and fretting about the vampire inside. So to alleviate their temptation to hover, they instead put their journal back in their pocket, grabbed one of their lighter bags, and decided to try some of the Elfsong’s famous ale.

They walked to the bar and took a seat, gesturing to the bartender and ordered said ale, which the bartender dutifully delivered moments later. After taking a sip, Rune closed their eyes, and took in the noise of the tavern. It was nice, they thought, to sometimes be surrounded by the hum of life. They could hear two men arguing about a business deal away from the bar. Somewhere to their left, a woman was flirting with someone and if the lack of response was any indication, failing rather miserably at it. The sound of a lute warming up to play rang from the stage where the bard was seated.

( You knew so many ways strings could be used for more interesting means. Garrotting, tying up prey, even cutting flesh if held tight enough. )

Rune kept drinking. The Urge was always there, and the more they focused on it, the worse it would get. It was best to just acknowledge its presence like an unwelcome houseguest and continue on with everything. They took another sip of their ale, trying to pinpoint the flavor. It tasted a little floral. Karlach was right; it was rather good compared to what they’d had on the road.

(I t would be so easy to kill everyone here. You could do it in an instant. Circle of Death is such a fantastic spell for wrecking ruin in such cramped spaces.)

The bard started a new song and Rune tapped their foot along to the beat, trying to work out some restless energy. After another sip of ale, they decided the drink, while not the best they’d ever had, was quite the deal for the price. Rune wondered if the food was as good; maybe Gale could take a day off cooking duty. Then again, the chef had said something about rats in the basement.

( That would be the best way to do it. You could go to the basement. No one would be able to see you cast down there, no one would even think to cast Counterspell.)

Sure, they could do that, but they weren’t going to, so they weren’t going to focus on it. They just had to-

( How do you know what you’re going to do? Remember Alfira? )

Rune gripped the glass of ale tighter as they placed it back onto the counter. The tavern seemed louder now, more crowded. The bard’s song, a jaunty little tune meant for dancing, picked up the pace.

( Did you know Circle of Death has a thirty feet effect radius? If you cast it just at ceiling level, you could get the second story too. You could even spare the rats ).

Was the bard’s lute off pitch when they started? It didn’t seem like that earlier. It was likely in their head,

( Your companions would be struck too. You wouldn’t likely kill them all but you’d kill the weaker ones for sure. Though wasn’t everyone weak compared to you, a child of a God ?)

It felt hotter in the tavern too. Rune felt someone brush past them, and went stock still, their eyes still closed. They could feel sparks coming off their hand not holding the ale. It would be so easy to reach out and shock anyone who passed by.

( How ironic would it be, for the sad little spawn, finally free of his master, to die as the rats scurried alive and well below. )

Rune’s eyes flew open and they stood up so fast that the chair behind them fell to the ground. A few people turned to look at them. Even the bard ceased playing, noticing the minor commotion. The bartender faced them, brows furrowed in a mix of alarm and concern.

(How concerned would they be, if they knew what you truly were?)

Rune left the ale unfinished, threw a tip for the bartender and made towards the stairs, paying no attention to anyone who tried to stop them. They did not halt at the second floor, instead heading straight for the windows at the end of the hall. It was twilight now, and Rune was thankful for it as they opened the latch.

Rune climbed out the windows and onto the roof. The roof was safer than the tavern, the most accessible collateral damage local pigeons. The Urge did not stop its issessant blathering as they made their way onto the shingles, but it did become less loud in the cool air.

They managed to find a spot to sit that was not entirely uncomfortable and pulled out their journal from their pocket. Journaling was grounding, a way to focus on anything but the Urge whispering in their ear. Next, they grabbed a piece of charcoal from their bag that they keep wrapped in cloth to keep it from staining everything. In the section of their journal where they kept unfinished tasks, they crossed off “help A. kill C.S if he wants” with more force than what was needed. Unlike most of their “to do” list, it was surrounded by completed tasks, as Rune wrote it down back even before the Tiefling party at the Grove.

Astarion knew Rune kept a journal, everyone did, but Rune hadn’t told him how early they’d decided to help him eliminate the Vampire Lord. They were worried he’d chalk it up to nothing but affection for his act, and Rune wasn’t sure they’d be able to fully convince him otherwise. To be fair, affection had played a factor, though it was affection for Astarion’s understanding of their own bloodlust and mystery novels rather than his honeyed lines. But a much larger part was that when Rune learned that spawn had to follow every order their sire gave them, helpless to fight back, they felt a murderous rage that had nothing to do with the Urge.

I cannot let that happen to anyone else , Rune had thought back then, even though they could not place where the feeling had come from. I refuse. And they’d written down their commitment to do as such before Astarion had even considered killing Cazador as something that could be accomplished.

Even now, while they’d mostly helped kill Cazador because Astarion wanted to, there was a part of them that was delighted to help because Cazador was a puppeteer that could be beaten. If Rune couldn’t free themselves from the God of Murder, at least they could free Astarion from his own bonds.

They felt guilty for that feeling, even if it was a small thing. A drop in an ocean of guilt really. They were lucky they hadn’t drowned.

They looked at the other tasks on their list. There were some they could easily handle now; crushing materials for potions, reading a book they’d gotten that they hoped might provide some insight into Karlach’s eternal engine, organizing a backlog of spell scrolls they’d picked up. Their next big task kept drawing their attention, and they ran their thumb past “save Duke Ravenguard” and watched the charcoal smear. It would have to be soon if they wanted any chance of finding him alive. And that would require making an enemy of Gortash.

Rune didn’t care about making an enemy of Gortash exactly. It was more the complications that came with it that troubled them. Gortash knew more about who Rune used to be than Rune themselves and that made him dangerous. Would Rune’s plans still work as intended if Gortash devoted himself fully to thwarting them? Would he seek to complicate the lives of Rune’s friends by allying with the Sharrans or sending his Steel Watch to torment the refugees? Gortash knew enough about Rune to somewhat predict them even with their changes in personality, but Rune still knew less about him than Karlach did.

Rune knew Gortash stayed his hand out of fondness for who Rune used to be (as well as hatred of Orin). Should Rune truly disrupt his plans, he would discard that fondness for a person who was, if Rune was lucky, gone. All that would be left from Gortash was rage that Rune remained wearing his friend’s face.

Friend was probably not the right word, Rune thought, shuddering. They didn’t think Gortash and their former self were capable of love, but they absolutely had been fucking. If Rune asked, Gortash could probably tell them what scars they’d obtained since they vanished, maybe even how Rune got them, and when he died, he would know the history of Rune’s body more than themselves.

Well, that was a nauseating thought. Best not to think about that one, especially given that Rune’s current partner was a floor below reeling what might be one of the most traumatic days of his life. Rune could unpack that properly once they were free of the tadpoles. And helped Shadowheart find her parents. And found a solution to Karlach’s engine and-

Well, eventually. Just not now.

Instead of thinking more about the current Archduke, Rune instead began dividing up tasks for the next day. Wyll would have to come with Rune while they investigated leads for his father, and Karlach would be good to have on hand should they get dire news. Everything Rune knew about comforting people was learned from watching Wyll, and they could use Karlach’s help if news about the man’s father was tragic. They would also be a good pair to help Rune to dig up more about Orin’s murder plot, given their knowledge of the city. If Astarion was up for it, he’d be an excellent addition as well; otherwise, Jaerhia’s would be an good choice. While they were off doing that, Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Gale could continue looking for leads on where the Temple of Bhaal might be located. Orin had promised Rune that Halsin would be safe as long as Rune focused their ire on Gortash, but Rune was not going to place their trust in their murderous sibling.

They’d made that mistake once, back when they were something cruel. They would not make it again.

A half an hour must have passed before Rune heard someone else scramble onto the window below. They prepared a cast of ray of frost until they saw white curls poke out over the edge of the roof. Rune closed their journal and set it on their lap.

“Up here.”

“I knew you’d be roosting somewhere,” Astarion said, as he leapt onto the shingles with grace Rune rather envied. “Tavern too noisy for your scheming?”

Astarion knew Rune could plan just fine surrounded by outside noise; he’d seen them plan in their camp, after all. They wouldn’t be surprised if he’d learned about their swift exit from the main floor himself. He sat down next to them and looked at their lap where the journal was seated.

“Are you ever going to let me take a look inside that thing?”

Astarion absolutely had looked inside Rune’s journal before, this they both knew. They’d caught him at it early on in their journey a few times, though he’d quit early on. At the time, Rune thought it might be due to the Alfria incident making him more cautious, but in retrospect, he’d likely stopped peeking when he realized Rune wrote down notes to self and supply lists, not secrets to stealing their heart.

Rune was curious to why he’d want to look at it now. Astarion had already stolen their heart quite thoroughly. He had to know that surely.

“It’s just lists and reminders. You know that. I don’t think you’d find it all that interesting.”

Astarion moved closer to Rune, so their thighs were touching. He leaned over their shoulder. “Still no drawings in the margins?”

Rune looked down at the journal and flipped it open to a section where the corner had a red stain. They held it up, showing Astarion the selected page which was covered in blood. There were a dozen of smeared illegible drawings made by shaking fingers on the parchment, like a disturbing finger painting. When Rune looked over the top of the journal to view Astarion, he looked flummoxed.

“Is that supposed to be a small intestine?”

Rune peered over the top of the journal and took in the spot Astarion was looking at. They supposed it looked a little like intestines, though it could also be just a shaky line or a blood trail. It was hard to tell.

“I don’t know if it’s supposed to be anything at all.”

Rune would have torn out the page entirely, but at the time it’d been a clue of whatever might be wrong with them. When they’d woken up with stinging fingertips covered with their own blood, they’d scribbled the date at the top of the page like it was a regular entry. It was a bit comical, how different their neat handwriting was to the gore on the page.

“I suppose we can cross off artist as a potential future career path,” Astarion said, leaning his forearms back against the roof so he could lean back a little. His body was too tense for the position to look relaxing, but he wasn’t trying to fake ease, which Rune took as a promising sign. “Planning out our marching orders for tomorrow?”

“A little. Depends on what you’re up for.”

“You know I’m up for everything darling.”

“Astarion,” Rune said, voice firm. They knew that voice for what it was: an act. If Astarion wanted to brush off everything in front of the others, Rune wouldn’t stop him. But they wouldn’t allow him to do the same when they were alone.

Rune had their own performances memorized: the devoted Absolute cultist, the brave hero, the playful clueless sorcerer. Astarion knew them all, he’d seen Rune throw on each persona when the moment required it, then drop it as soon as they were back in camp. If Rune put down their mask, they expected Astarion to do the same.

Astarion’s shoulders slumped. He leaned back, looking up at the setting sun and held out his hand, like he was trying to cup the horizon in his grasp.

“That first day, after the crash,” Astarion said, keeping his hand where it was. “I thought the sun would be the death of me. 200 years of shit and the moment I was free of Cazador, I was going to meet my end by a sunbeam.” He let out a dark chuckle and lowered his hand, having it lay back by his side. “Seemed like Gods’ usual cruel brand of humor.”

Rune kept quiet, waiting for him to continue.

“Imagine my surprise when everything played out otherwise. Here I was, free of Cazador, able to walk in the sun, two things I thought I’d never have again.” He held out his hands wide, then gestured to Rune. “It seemed too good to be true. And of course, it was, once you came along and told me that the very thing that gave me what I wanted was also going to cause me to sprout tentacles in a handful of days. So when I heard about the Rite, it seemed like the perfect solution. Sure, I could have taken over the Cult myself, but that seemed like a lot of responsibility and frankly, more work than it was cut out for. I mean, did you see all the paperwork on Thorm’s desk? I’d never see the sunlight again if I had to read through all that.”

Rune felt a flash of rage pulse through them at the mention of Throm but ignored it. Now was not the time. They instead directed their entire focus on Astarion.

“It was my chance to have it all. The sun, my freedom, and Cazador dead at my hands.” Astarion waved a hand, gesturing like he was throwing something aside. “Sure, it would come at the cost of my so-called siblings, but they would have done the same thing to me. Might as well put them out of their misery. I’d be doing them a favor.” He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his legs, placing his chin on his knees. The setting sun cast light onto the bottom of his face, just under his eyes. “And yet-”

Rune could guess what stayed Astarion’s hand in the end. They’d watched as Astarion stared at cages of spawn in horror, noticed how he’d wanted to look away from all that pain and suffering. Rune was the one who’d forced him to meet it head on, to look them in the eyes and admit the truth of the matter; that Astarion could very well do this, but he’d have to do so knowing he was throwing away people, not the already dead and buried. People who could have been Rune, if things were different.

(He wouldn't have been able to kill you. He could have tried, but you would have killed him first before you stepped a foot in that manor. Maybe even tore out his fangs as a prize.)

“I couldn’t do it. I had everything in front of me, and I couldn’t do it.”

“You wouldn’t still be yourself if you did,” Rune said. They remembered listening to the skull tell the story of Cazador before he was a Vampire Lord, how much his story as spawn echoed Astarion’s. Rune doubted the man was ever truly soft of heart, but he at least had some capacity for feeling other than his own ego. For Cazador to have changed so much turning into a true vampire spoke volumes; hells only knew how much Astarion might change were he to become something even more than that.

“Probably,” Astarion admitted. He scowled, kicking one of the shingles under his foot. “But I wouldn’t be like this either. Afraid he’s going to pop out of the shadows and drag me back there at any moment.”He sat up straight all of the sudden, irritation leaking into his tone. “He’s dead. I killed him myself. So why do I still feel like this?”

“Because it all still happened, maybe? Like my headaches-“ Rune ran their fingers through their hair. They could feel the scar that stretched from behind their ear to the center of their forehead. Back when they crashed it was visible given their buzz of hair. Now it wasn’t too noticeable now that Rune’s hair had grown out from patchwork to a pixie, but Rune could never forget it was there.

Astarion had Cazador to thank for his own back. Rune noticed the vampire took care to not wear items that gave anyone a glimpse of the scarring there. Cazador’s death would not erase that contract nor the memory of it being carved there. Even if Astarion both wished otherwise.

“Even though the wound might physically have healed, that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt,” Rune said, finishing their thought.

Astarion turned away, snarling. “So what, I’m stuck with him forever, even while he rots?”

Sometimes Astarion could be purposefully obtuse. “That wasn’t my point.”

“And what was it then?”

Rune was good with words when it came to strangers. Strangers they never had to see again, strangers never got to realize that Rune had spotted what they wanted to hear or inferred the role they wanted Rune to play. Rune didn’t have to think much about the interaction other than how to get what they wanted.

With friends, with people Rune cared for, words were harder. Because with them, words could do far more damage if thrown around loosely. The wrong thing to say, the wrong tone and one could cause damage as deep as a knife wound.

Rune was so tired of hurting people they didn’t want to.

“That you shouldn’t tear yourself apart because you haven’t healed from 200 years of shit overnight,” they settled on. Astarion was looking at them again, red eyes trained on Rune’s face. “You’re so hard on yourself, sometimes,”Astarion began to open his mouth but Rune pressed on, determined to finish the thought. “And I know I’m one to talk, but Astarion, you managed to kill a vampire lord today. You gave thousands the chance to make a new life. You gave the gur their children back.”

“That I helped take in the first place-“

“Okay, well if that’s true-“ Frustration burned through Rune and they pointed their finger in Astarion’s chest. Astarion almost fell back in surprise, Rune rarely got visibly angry. Rune would have tried to reign in the emotion but they needed Astarion to understand this, they needed him to believe them. They reached into their bag for the dagger everyone insisted they keep on them, and pushed it sheathed into Astarion’s hands. Astarion looked at them like they’d lost their mind.

“You should rightfully take your revenge given my father tried to have me tear you limb from limb.” Rune sat back on the roof, and held their arms out wide. Astarion was still staring at them, the dagger held limply in his hands like he’d never wielded one before. “Well?”

“You weren’t yourself.” His voice was a whisper.

“And you were?”

“That’s not fair-“

“Isn't it?" Rune reached forward and plucked the dagger out of Astarion’s grasp. "Astarion, you cannot entirely hold yourself to what you did under Cazador’s control! You did a lot of good today. And yes, I know, how dare I accuse you of goodness, but this day could have ended very differently and it didn’t.” They placed the dagger back into their bag. “Give yourself some credit for that.”

“Are you sure you don’t deserve that credit instead?”

“No.” Rune was resolute. “I told you what I thought but I was willing to follow your lead. And you led us here,” They shrugged.

“To an inn where we’re crammed into one suite and must scramble onto the roof for some privacy.”

Rune shrugged. The sun was almost gone now and with it the horizon turned a beautiful violet. The night wasn’t so bad, when it arrived with such a sight. “Who cares? You’re here. That’s all I need.”

Astarion looked at them for a long moment, eyes wide before he reached forward, grabbed the front of their tunic, and pulled them in for a kiss. It was sweet but not soft and Rune smiled into it, feeling some of the fear from earlier in the day finally slip from their mind.

They knew Astarion had worried when he’d confessed he’d like to stop having sex and slow things down, but frankly, Rune hadn’t minded. They didn’t remember much of their own history, but they doubted the former leader of the Cultist of Bhaal was one for kissing on rooftops with zero intention of losing clothing in the endeavor. At best, Rune’s previous life had consisted of getting off and offing people, no feeling required. While they would have agreed to Astarion’s request regardless, it didn’t hurt that Rune felt like something like this was something new to them too. Something nice.

Rune broke the kiss for air, then dove back in for another. This one was more brief, just a quick press of lips, but Gods it was lovely. When they broke apart, they were almost giddy with affection. They placed their head on his shoulder and chuckled into Astarion’s collar bone, feeling him let out of a puff of air that ruffled their hair. He wrapped his arms around their back, pulling them in closer.

“How in the Gods’ name can you be so casually charming?”

“You know which God, we had a talk about it and everything.”

“You are an absurd human being.”

Rune pulled back to look him in the face. Astarion was smiling now, properly smiling and they felt so very warm despite the cool night air. With a teasing smile, they leaned in, just out of reach for another kiss. “But you like me though.”

“A terrible lapse in judgment on my part,” Astarion got up, and held out his hand towards Rune. “Come’on love, let’s get to bed.”

Rune looked up at him. They were rather tired. However, as nice sharing a bed was, Rune wasn’t sure it was a good idea after today given Rune’s nightmares. Their fits had gotten worse as they got closer to the city, and now that they were inside the walls properly, they woke up multiple times a night in a cold sweat. It wasn’t exactly the best atmosphere for an elf to trance.

“If you want to be alone I can go bunk with Gale?” When it came to shared sleeping arrangements, Gale tended to be the best choice simply because he was rather used to sharing space with insomniacs after years of studying at Blackstaff. Rune could toss and turn on their bedroll all they wanted, and Gale would sleep it off just fine.

(There would be a fight over who “got” the bed, this Rune knew. Gale would insist Rune take it for having the basic human decency of not asking him to blow himself up, and Rune would insist Gale take it because Gale complained about his knees already, and Rune had slept in far worse places. Rune expected fully to win, but not without a debate).

“Tell Gale to get his own sorcerer. It can be part of your wingman proposal,” Astarion wiggled his fingers. “I know you don’t sleep well, love. I am aware of what I’m signing up for.”

Rune took his hand and let Astarion help him to their feet. When they were standing, Astarion lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Rune’s palm. Rune could feel the flush that appeared on their cheeks.

“Thank you,” he said. Rune wasn’t sure if it was for helping him kill Cazador, the bath, the talk on the roof or all three. Rune shook their head.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I don’t have to do anything. And I want to thank you anyway.” Astarion tightened his grip on their hands and looked Rune right in the eye. “And I meant what I said yesterday; We will see you free of Bhaal. Freedom won’t be truly sweet until you’re no longer under his thumb.”

Rune’s stomach twisted, their throat tightening. He meant it, Rune could tell. This wasn’t intended as an empty promise or sweet words to assure Rune’s nerves. If it was possible to unshackle Rune from their father’s influence, Astarion would see it done.

For both their sakes, Rune desperately hoped it was possible at all. They had their doubts but maybe Astarion’s hope would be enough for the both of them.

Astarion lowered their joined hands and tugged Rune towards the edge of the roof where the windowsill was. “Now come on, sorcerers need their beauty sleep.”

Rune followed him. As they climbed into bed later, Rune curling around the trancing vampire, they closed their eyes and hoped that they could find a way to keep this, the Gods be dammned.

#iz writes #bg3 durge #durge #astarion x durge #durgestarion #bg3 fic #bg3 #dark urge

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nights-nonsensical-ramblings · 2 years

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How would the scu trio interact with boom Shadow?

Ok so boom shadow is far more aggressive, hot headed and edgy than his main series counterpart. (i mean the guy tired to destroy the universe because a eggman showed him a bad edit of sonic talking shit) I am only speaking from the cartoon here, I don’t really know anything about the boom games (other than shadow dose willingly come back to help the hero’s at some point, I think)

But anyway I was looking around the boom shadow tag to focus on his character better and one of the tags for movie sonic, and I saw a few things about the strength of scu sonic’s friendship power and i love this. the idea of this super edgy aggressive guy having a secret appreciation for these gremlin danger children and basically going “these children are the only competent people on the island you should feel bad”

but for first meetings it would not take long for a fight to start between him and scu Knuckles, between how often Boom shadow insults and belittles those around him as well as his aggression and Scu Knuckles ready to fight for his brothers and honorable nature, these two are absolutely throwing hands within like a minute. But since the scu characters are more powerful than the boom universe he gives boom shadow a better run for his money than the boom team did. Part of me thinks shadow get curb stomped and part of me thinks the battle would be more even (like what even is his back story in the boom universe, how powerful is he? I’m pretty sure there’s no chaos emeralds/master emerald and such in the boom universe so…???) but either way after their battle boom shadow thinks of him as a worthy opponent.

scu sonic thinks his edginess is the most entertaining thing (just like the characters in some of the action movies he’s seen) and keeps going “awe i bet you’re really sweet under all that edge” and keeps following following him. so shadow keeps teleporting away, but scu sonic keeps finding him and he’ll just say “you know my brother was all mean and grumpy when i first met him, now we get along great’ and boom Shadow is *this* close drop kicking this child into the ocean and leaving him there, but has already learnt that the scu trio are stronger than the versions he knows and that he will get hounded by the other two for ages and he does not want to deal with two angry siblings bothering him. (And secretly deep down where he’ll never admit it he thinks the kids adorable)

He also has a respect for Scu Tails, mainly coming from the fact that tails builds all kinds of dangerous and distructive weaponry yet has everyone convinceed that he’s completely pure and inocent. I can’t really think of more to add here.

Boom sonic: uh shadow do you care about those guys?

Boom shadow: absolutely not I don’t know what you’re talking about. (while holding Scu sonic’s hand and listening to him ramble on about his favorite action movie and why he thinks boom shadow would awesome in one.

Idk if any of this is accurate at all (boom shadow is a punk and I have no clue what his deal is) but I had fun.

#boom shadow is a mess #sonic #Sonic boom #sonic movie #sonic movie and boom #boom shadow #shadow the hedgehog #sonic wachowski #tails wachowski #knuckles wachowski #nights writing #night’s sonic stuff #sonic multiverse

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laceratedlamiaceae · 7 months

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Okay, I spent a few days offline, touched some grass, talked to people IRL, rewatched Everything Everywhere All At Once and some old Contrapoints videos to get some perspective, and I was able to emotionally distance myself from the show enough to rewatch it. Long rambly thoughts below:

I tried going in with the intention of feeling sympathetic for Ed. Needless to say that didn't happen, but I was able to watch his scenes without literally feeling like I was going to throw up, so that's progress I guess. I understand what they're going for with him, but I'm fundamentally uninterested in stories centering the feelings of abusive men over those of their victims. That was obviously how things were going to go, seeing as he's one of the two main characters, and I should have braced myself more for that going into it, but I didn't and as a result I kind of lost it.

I have some hope that they're not just going to have him be forgiven immediately (or at all, honestly) at the end of the season--that would be fine in another show, but not in this one after the direction they've already taken it--but to be honest I've completely lost all my respect for the writers of this show and the story they're trying to tell. In the abstract sense I can get the appeal of the message that even people at their lowest are capable of healing and are worthy of love and care, but the specifics of how it's being handled in this show don't work for me.

Taking a step back from the fandom has also helped me realize that engaging so much with it wasn't good for me; even with every possible variant of "edward teach" added to my filtered tags, I kept seeing posts sympathizing with him and I just don't want to see that--I think a lot of my over-the-top hatred is just a reaction to seeing so much over-the-top love for him; watching the show with some distance from all of that, I was able to just be vaguely annoyed and disinterested by Ed instead of, again, feeling literally sick (seriously. when I first watched the episodes I actually felt queasy at all the bits trying to cultivate sympathy for him). It was kind of a bummer to add "ofmd" to my filters, and I'm sure I've missed out on some cool posts, but overall it's been really good for me. I'm still going to be posting about Izzy and all the other characters I love, but I'm going to do my best to avoid other people's posts.

I think in general I just need to take a different perspective to this show. Instead of seeing it as a great show that I'm a fan of, even if there are some elements I dislike, I'm going to try looking at it like a set of dolls where I can play with the ones I like (which is most of them) and throw everything I don't like (Ed) in the trash. I'm also going to try not spending like 10 hours a day making gifs and scrolling through tumblr, I feel like that might help lol

#ofmd #rambling

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paracosmic-murdock · 10 months

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Tell me what are my words worth ; Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Chapter 4: "Les mots de Whistledown"

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Chapter summary: After enough days hiding in plain view, your arrival in London gets announced by Lady Whistledown. Its consequences—dozens of suitors— wrecked your plans for the day, but the dinner at the Bridgerton home wasn't one of those, but unfortunately, there is one Bridgerton brother you are still yet to meet.

Word count: 3.7K

❁ Series masterlist

❁ mila's paracosm (main masterlist)

Dearest gentle reader,

It is this author's duty to keep you informed of the most important news, and it mortified me to not have a positive thing to notify you of in recent times. However, it has come to my attention that there is a charmant new arrival in town.

Walls have ears, doors have eyes, trees have voices, and so do I, and we all have gathered here to tell you, dear reader, that the distinguished Lady Y/N of Burgundy, daughter of the late Duke of Burgundy, took a trip from France to delight us with her presence.

That takes us, dear reader, to our next topic of conversation in this issue, a matter most must be pondering about. Surely, there is a reason for her to be in London, and do not think for a second your beloved author will leave you in the dark any longer: she is looking for a husband!

By now, you are sure I cannot grant you incomplete information here, so I must let you know that Lady Y/N is nothing but grace, elegance, kindness and virtue in the flesh. If she had arrived at the beginning of the Season, and we could count on Her Majesty's judgment to be correct, she would have been named the Queen's diamond.

Now, I plead the gentlemen of the Ton not to get eager, for there are certain requirements you must possess in order to even consider courting her: heart, wealth, face, and brains!

If you are a respectable gentleman and consider yourself not only in possession of those requirements, but also worthy of her, do not hesitate to pay Lady Y/N a visit at the Carrington Mansion.

And a little help: it seems like she is quite the emerald enthusiast.

Sincerely yours,

Lady Whistledown.

"Mama! Your dearest Lady Y/N is on today's issue of Lady Whistledown!" Eloise yelled after reading the paper.

Violet Bridgerton frowned. "Is she really?"

Eloise nodded eagerly, starting to read the article out loud to her mother and some of her siblings that were in the room.

"Is she to be a duchess, then?" Hyacinth asked.

"That is not how it works, Sister." Anthony said.

"Is she pretty?" Colin questioned.

"Oh, she is." Benedict answered to Colin with a smirk.

"You know her?" Eloise looked at her brother wide-eyed.

"The director of the Academy, Lord Carrington, is her godfather. I even painted her portrait the day before yesterday," he explained. "How do you know her?"

"Her father was friends of your father and I," Violet replied. "I reunited with her at Lady Danbury's first, but yesterday, Eloise and I were at the Modiste and saw her again."

Benedict smiled and stood up with a groan, hoping that maybe you would go to the Academy today for whatever reason. "I am off to the Academy!"

Lady Bridgerton shook her head at her son. "If you or your brother try to get close to her, let me warn you that you shall only do so if you have the best of intentions."

"Did you know she was the one to send those cufflinks you're wearing, Brother?" Eloise questioned, looking at him attentively as he admired the precious emeralds adorning the cuffs of his shirt. Even after so many years, he still wore them from time to time.

"Oh, is she also the one who sent us wine a couple years ago?"

"Yes, it was her," His mother gave him a quick glance. "You should know that the wine came with a heartfelt letter thanking me for the condolences I sent for her father's death, so you must not mention that to her during dinner tonight."

"Is she coming tonight?!"

"Yes, Sister, my mother invited her for dinner," Eloise told Hyacinth. "Although, I fear she might not come when she hears that both Colin and Benedict have their intentions set on courting her."

"Benedict is not going to court her," Colin stated, ignoring where his brother was the past afternoon. "And I cannot conceive the idea of her ignoring me! I've got the heart, the wealth, the brains and the hair!"

"Heart, wealth, face and brains." Eloise corrected him.

"The great hair is surely a bonus point in my favor, is it not?"

Hyacinth laughed. "You don't even know her!"

"I have heard enough." He smiled.

"What could Lady Whistledown even know anyway? Y/N arrived just a few days ago, and for Whistledown to say such amazing things about her, it would mean they have known each other for a while or simply Y/N did something nice for Whistledown, doesn't it?" Eloise theorized. She gave it a thought in silence and then ran to her room.

"She is everything Lady Whistledown says," Lady Bridgerton commented, giving Colin a serious look. "She is also self-righteous, obedient, honest, and service-oriented. She would make such a lovely wife… But as I just said, if you do not have the best intentions, Colin Bridgerton, don't you dare get near her."

"You are taking all the fun out of it, now I think I do not want her anymore."

"Good."

Hyacinth looked at the scene in amusement, returning to the pianoforte.

You woke up to Antoinette's insistence. "Antoinette! Is it not too early for you to wake me up so violently?"

"You are in the newest issue of Lady Whistledown!"

"Who on Earth is that?" you questioned with a frown.

"It is a gossip newspaper here in London, you must read it!"

"Does it have to do with Antoine?"

"Thanks to the Heavens, it does not."

"Then, I couldn't care less. I have a few minutes of sleep left until I have to go to the Academy."

Antoinette sighed. "I am afraid you won't be able to attend the Academy today."

"What?" You wrinkled your nose. "Why not?!"

"Because there is a long line of suitors waiting just for you, my Lady."

You sat up immediately and took the newspaper in Antoinette's hands, reading it all in less than a minute.

"Mon Dieu !" you groaned. "How many men are waiting for me?"

"At least four dozens." A tired exhalation indicated just your mood as you stood up and got changed with the help of Antoinette.

Once you were ready, you went downstairs to meet with quite the entourage of gentlemen. The staff of the mansion were running here and there, trying to accommodate everyone as best as they could.

"At least one of these must be interesting enough to marry."

You laughed. "Everyone younger than me or old must be sent away. The same applies if the man seems slow or a shag-bag, I am not going to tolerate that. Other than that, let the games begin," you instructed, letting your pettiness get the best of you. "This must be fun!"

"Anything you say."

"If any of them is Lord Walker or Mr. Schwartz, let them in," you said. "Madame Delacroix recommended them. Oh, you remember about Benedict, do you not?"

"I do, he was here yesterday."

You smiled at the memory. "If he is here, make him come first."

Antoinette tried not to laugh as she nodded, and soon enough, you were sitting in front of the third gentleman Lady Carrington had sent your way. Antoinette was your escort and some of the staff.

"Was the 'heart, wealth, face, and brains' your line?" he asked, making you chuckle.

"I did not say that, though it is not like those are four qualities I don't search for in a man. Especially the heart and the brains."

"Uh, oui, mon copain doit parler français car je viens de France," you explained to him that your husband must speak French because you are French. "And you do."

Lord Weber smiled. "Parler français est une condition nécessaire, aussi ?"

[Is speaking French a requirement also?]

"Are you looking to marry anytime soon?"

He chuckled. "Do you not want to marry?"

"I was exposed by your clownesque gossip writer, so I must say yes."

"I do, but not as soon as that woman said. She made me look desperate, did she not?"

"Just a little."

"I only ever wanted to make my debut during the Carrington ball and see what happens," You shrugged. "At least I know that the men Lady Carrington threw out will not come back."

She did all of us a favor, did she not?"

"She did," You curved your lips. "So, tell me about your family: do you have brothers or sisters?"

"A younger brother and an older sister. My father passed away a few years ago, and my mother lives in the country," he replied. "We have a manor in the outskirts of town, actually. Maybe you and the Carringtons could come and stay with my family for the annual Weber Masquerade Ball if you wish."

"Oh, when is it going to be held?"

"The last weekend of the next month, my Lady."

"I shall speak to the Carringtons about it and give you an answer, then, my Lord."

He gave you a charming smirk. "Would you be interested in walking along the promenade with me this afternoon?"

"I'm afraid I already have plans for the afternoon, Lord Weber, but perhaps we could arrange it for another day." you said, wishing for him to not invite you anywhere if it was time for you to be at the Academy.

"Tomorrow afternoon sounds good?"

You nodded. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect."

Lord Weber stood up and offered you his hand to help you stand up. You took it and once you were both standing in front of one another, he kissed your knuckles.

"Would you forgive me if I said to everyone that you are an insufferable young lady? All is fair in love and war, or so I've heard."

"I would be very offended and disappointed that you didn't stand a chance against some men who do not even speak French, my Lord."

He winked. "You're right. See you tomorrow afternoon?"

"Yes."

When he disappeared, you threw yourself on the couch.

"This is not as fun as I thought it would be," you complained. "I am tired of them, are there many more?"

"Around ten."

You groaned. "They are always inviting me to do something and I am obliged to say yes! What if I am busy doing something actually important? They are inviting me to go for walks and do stuff when I should be in…"

Your face shone with enlightenment when the idea crossed your mind, and a loud, excited shriek echoed in the entire room.

"Every cloud has a silver lining!" You hugged Antoinette, who laughed as she tried to push you away. "Bring them all in!"

"Did you tell your sister you're going out tonight?" Cortez asked you. You gave him a condescending look.

"I am invited to go to dinner tonight at someone's family, I have no idea where, to be honest. So, right after dinner, I'll go to White's."

"Yes!" he cheered. "But don't you be too late."

"I will not promise you a thing, Santiago," you replied. "That I am going must be more than enough for you."

"We will be drowning that hostility in whiskey, Antoine!"

"I am more of a wine person, you know?"

"Oh, let's get this man back to his homeland!" he yelled. "Not at White's tonight, by the way. It will be a private party at the Cortez Manor."

"Sure, see you there." You got inside your carriage with a big smile. "We should get going to the Carrington Mansion so I can get ready to go to the Bridgertons for dinner and then I'm going to the Cortez Manor for a private party!"

"You are doing what?!" Antoinette questioned, altered. "It has been a very long, hard day, my Lady. Go back to the Carrington Mansion after dinner, listen to me."

"I already promised Santiago I would go. Antoine Voclain is a man of his word."

"Antoine Voclain doesn't exist, my Lady, please stop this before it gets out of hand!" she pleaded. "We can still say he passed away and you will not get in any trouble."

"I will not get in any trouble, Antoinette," you told her, taking your clothes off. "And I'm not going to stay in Art School my entire life, just for some time until… I don't know, until I find out who I am."

She sighed. "You are Y/N Voclain, the future duchess of Burgundy. You are a respectable Lady, you are intelligent, talented… You are going to make an excellent wife, mother to many children, and you are going to marry a man who can see that. You will bring so much pride and honor to your father to watch from the Heavens."

"Look at me," you demanded. "I am taking off the clothes that I stole from my cousin, I just finished another day at a school I am not allowed to attend, I am on my way to the home of a family who received me with open arms and open doors, the same family I lie to every single day. I am sitting in this carriage I stole from home, with the maid and the drivers I forced to travel for two days to a strange city with me. I should be looking for a husband, but instead, I wear jewels a second and a hat the other. Most ladies are only allowed to have makeup and ball gowns, but I have all of that plus a library of all the books I have read and the poems I have written, I have a bow and arrows, I fence, I travel, I paint, I do the numbers, I speak, and that is not who a respectable lady is supposed to be! I hate to think that I was born to be a wife and a mother while my father raised me to be more than that… Once I realize who that person is, I will return to France. Not a second before."

Antoinette felt silent while you wiped the tears you didn't notice had run down your face. You arrived at the mansion but didn't leave the carriage until you were ready.

"My, my, where have you been?" Lady Carrington asked as soon as you were in front of her.

"I went out for a walk with Antoinette," you mumbled. "I asked your maid to please tell you."

"She did, but you must let me know when you are going out, you're a lady!"

You nodded. "I understand, Lady Carrington. My apologies."

"It is okay, dear," She exhaled. "Are you going to the Bridgertons'?"

"Yes, I will get ready first."

"If Lady Bridgerton invites you to stay a little longer for some tea, stay. I know you must be tired for such a hectic morning full of suitors and the promenade in the afternoon, but it would be rude not to."

"I will, Lady Carrington."

"It is a pleasure to finally have met you all," You smiled. "Though, I was informed that there were eight of you."

"Our brother had a… matter to attend to," Anthony informed. "But he sends his apologies for not being here."

"Very well," You nodded. "I am looking forward to seeing him later."

"So is he." Gregory mentioned under everyone's apprehensive glance, and his sister Hyacinth jostled him.

You ignored it with a small smile.

"Shall we start?" Lady Bridgerton asked.

"Yes! I am starving." you agreed.

Most of the siblings thanked you.

"How has been your time here in London, Lady Y/N?" Colin asked.

"It has been great! I have met a lot of nice people, thanks to that I could see your mother again," you replied, muttering a thank you to the maid who served your food. "Everything was perfect until that absurd Lady Whistledown exposed my arrival to absolutely everyone, and had the Carrington Mansion full of gentlemen."

"No one caught your attention?"

You chuckled. "It's not that. Lady Carrington filtered all the men for me. I suppose that knowing everything about everyone is convenient from time to time. Lady Whistledown made me look desperate, did she not? It was humiliating to some extent."

"That is what I thought, too," Eloise said. "To anyone it could be flattering, right? But she described you like a trophy to get!"

"Exactly!" you exclaimed. "I thought I could make the most out of it, but I am a little offended that she made me look like nothing but a lovely bride."

Eloise smiled widely, but before she could say anything, her mother interrupted her. "Was there any suitor interesting, my dear?"

"One or two," you confessed. "I am afraid they will lose their interest in me once they find out I would rather be visiting my mother's family in the Americas instead of attending balls like a trophy."

"Have you been to the Americas?" Colin asked with wide eyes.

"Yes! My mother is from there, and her family owns the biggest emerald mines," you replied. "I wish to return soon, but I have never traveled such distances alone. After my father's death, I am afraid my voyages will have to wait until I marry."

"You travel a lot?" Anthony asked.

"I used to with my father… ever the explorer," You took a sip of your drink. "I would go with him whenever and wherever he went, so I have been to many places."

"I was traveling, too, a couple of months ago. My favorite stop was the Greek Islands." The rest of the Bridgertons groaned at Colin's intervention.

"I have been to Greece also. My father wanted paintings of the Greek Ancient Ruins in Athens and Epidaurus," you commented. "Although I would not change the Kingdom of Tahiti for anywhere in the world, it is certainly the most glorious land I have set foot in."

"Y/N, Colin will never shut up if you keep feeding him with information about travels."

"Eloise!" Lady Bridgerton scolded her.

You laughed. "It is not a problem, if you wish I will stop talking."

"Do not listen to her," Colin asked you with a grin. "Did your father get the paintings?"

"He did indeed, I painted them." you answered, and Eloise and Anthony looked at each other with knowing eyes.

"It is such a shame that our brother is not here, he would adore you." Eloise commented, making you look at her in confusion.

"He will regret not being here, certainly," Daphne smirked. "I hope you see each other at the Carrington ball."

Colin shook his head. "Please, ignore them."

You frowned. "Uh… the food is incredible, Lady Bridgerton."

"I am glad you like it, dear." She sighed in relief. "Did you like the wine?"

"I did," You nodded. "Which reminds me, did you like the wine I had sent to you the last time?"

"We all did," Lady Bridgerton answered. "Actually, Colin was telling me how much he had enjoyed it earlier today."

"That is good to hear!" you exclaimed happily. "It comes from our winery."

"It was one of the best wines I have ever had." Anthony added.

You smiled. "Thank you very much, my Lord. I will make sure to send a letter and have some bottles sent to you directly from Burgundy."

"We will be looking forward to it," Anthony said. "And please, call me Anthony."

"However you please, Anthony. Please, call me Y/N, too."

"And how is Burgundy, Y/N?" Francesca asked you.

"It is a wonderful region, dear Francesca," you told her. "And all of you are more than welcome at the Château de Germolles, the Château du Clos de Vougeot, or the Palace of the Dukes."

"Thank you, dear, we will take it into consideration. Perhaps for vacations." Lady Bridgerton answered.

"I hope it doesn't stay in consideration and I get to have you. All of you are welcome, there is more than enough space for all the Bridgertons. I am sure you would adore the Palace... it is enormous, there is art everywhere, the most precious gardens for you to explore."

"We must tell Benedict everything, he will be so mad to have missed her!" Eloise whispered to Anthony, and they both chuckled.

"I would love to!" Hyacinth nodded eagerly.

"Then I will be expecting you. Your presence would be a treasure to have in my homeland." You winked.

The rest of the dinner was great. Daphne talked about her husband and child, and invited you to Hastings whenever you wanted to. There was some teasing at Anthony when you mentioned, accidentally, that you had met the Sharmas at Lady Danbury's, and somehow Colin managed to find a way to mention his travels again.

After the dessert, you said goodbye to everyone and returned to your carriage.

"Now, we shall go to the Cortez Manor." you told Antoinette, who told the drivers. Once the carriage started moving, you started getting changed.

"You cannot tell Benedict about everything that she said!"

Eloise laughed. "They have already met, Colin."

"Oh, they would make the perfect match, would they not?" Hyacinth commented.

"I hear wedding bells." Francesca added with a smile.

"This counts as treason." Colin shook his head, making his siblings laugh.

"Colin, Y/N does not have a father to look after her, so I feel personally responsible for her now that she is here in London. If you do not have good intentions, I beg you to stay away from her."

"Why do you not have faith in me?"

Daphne laughed. "You have said more than enough times that you do not wish to marry, so forgive Mama for doubting you."

"So has Benedict!"

"While it is fairly obvious that she is too good for our brother, and this is coming from someone who is deeply against marriage, me, you have to admit that they have enough in common to make a good couple," Eloise told Colin. "And I would only support her getting married because that is what she wishes for."

Her mother looked at her surprised. "I hope you do not brainwash her into not wanting to marry, Eloise."

"Do you think she would have been named the Queen's diamond had she arrived earlier?" Hyacinth wondered.

"She surely would have." Colin replied.

"Then she would be engaged to Anthony." Eloise joked.

"I would have proposed, just so you know, Colin." Anthony mocked his brother. "We would be with child right now."

"Anthony!" his mother chided.

"Y/N would not marry Anthony if she knew Benedict… Being engaged to the wrong brother sounds awful, does it not?" Daphne gave Anthony a look, making him roll his eyes.

"Then it is good no one is engaged to a wrong sibling." Anthony cut the conversation, leaving the dining room.

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