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ghostofhyuck · 9 hours

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His Car isn't Yours

He’s Mark Lee. He’s smart, handsome, a gentleman — everyone’s ideal boyfriend. He’s everything. Oh my god, girls would die to be in your spot. And yet, you felt uneasy as he took you on a date.

Oh right. You remember. Mark Lee is not him.

Word count: 2.5k

Tags: Fluff, angst. Mentions of NCT Dream Members. Mentions of sexual innuendo (just a few!)

Song Inspiration: His Car isn’t Yours by Wendy

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“How about this?” you asked over the video call. It’s almost seven in the evening and you’re still in your bathrobe, raiding your closet while showing it to your best friend. You couldn’t help it. You’re sweating and nervous.

“Did he mention where he’ll take you?” your best friend Donghyuck said over the phone.

“It’s a surprise he said, he just said dress pretty — what does he mean by that!?”

You heard Donghyuck’s hum for a minute. “Okay, ditch the pants and wear a nice dress and sandals.”

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver Hyuck,” you said to him before proceeding to find the baby blue summer dress that you rarely wear. It was adorned with white flowers, the skirt being just above your knee and hugging your figure perfectly.

“Well of course! I couldn’t believe it!” Donghyuck squeals, you can see him jumping in his bed excitingly. “You’re going on a date with Mark, everyone wants him, you know that?”

Your smile faded when you heard your best friend’s comment. As the dress fit onto yours, you couldn’t help but to stare at the mirror. Suddenly, this idea was bad.

“Yn, don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts,” Donghyuck asked.

“What?” you only laughed, trying to brush off Donghyuck’s words. “No, of course not! You’re crazy.”

“Great, because this is the perfect opportunity for you to get over that jerk.”

Right. Donghyuck’s right. It’s time for you to get over him. It’s been a few months since you two broke up. It was a disaster and you remember crying in your best friend’s arms for a few hours until you passed out because you were too dehydrated. Donghyuck cursed him and you swore that that night Donghyuck swore all the curses that he could think of because of your ex-boyfriend.

It took you a while to pick up yourselves. Slumping yourself on your academics and studies just to get over him. But no matter how much you tried, there were nights that you cried and wondered, what went wrong with the two of you? You never attempted to move on from him. You’re still holding onto that small hope that maybe. Maybe. He’ll show up in your footsteps and ask for another chance.

But he didn’t and instead, Mark Lee somehow waited for you outside the hallways of your building, asking you if you two can go out for some coffee. Schemingly, Donghyuck agreed on your behalf, convincing you that you should just try it.

It was the first time you smiled in months. Mark was nice. He was easy to converse with, and he’s also good-looking to start with. You two enjoyed the cup of coffee, and it ended up with you asking what was his intention.

“I thought I was being obvious,” he laughs. A shy smile formed on his lips. “I’ve liked you ever since yn.”

You remember being caught off-guard with his sudden confession, you don’t know why but you feel your cheeks heating up because of it. Maybe, you were flustered by his sudden confession. You watch as Mark shyly looks away, and you don’t know why but a part of you wants to know where this will end.

That’s where you are right now. Wearing your baby blue dress, doing some finishing touches on your makeup while you’re waiting for Mark to pick you up. You agreed to have a date with him, and for once, you wanted to not mop around because of your ex-boyfriend.

“Oh wow, you look gorgeous,” Donghyuck compliments. “Hope you get dicked tonight.”

You laughed as you sprayed your perfume on you, “I’m not planning to.”

“That’s sad of you boo,” Donghyuck sticks out his tongue and as you put on your shoes, you hear Mark’s car parking in front of your place.

“Fuck, okay I got to go,” you said, grabbing your phone to say goodbye to your friend.

“Goodluck on your date! Tell me the deets tomorrow!” your best friend said one last time before hanging up. You only smile as you grab some few things and place them in your bag. As you went out of your place, you saw Mark leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone.

You stop midway, remembering that it was Mark who’s picking you up, and not him. It’s Mark, who’s hair is dyed blonde, leaning against his Honda Civic which is a different model that your ex-boyfriend drives.

You watch as Mark glances at you and does a double take, he puts his phone on his jean’s pocket as he approaches you with a smile.

“Wow,” he breathes. “You look so beautiful.”

Right. You remembered. That tonight isn’t about him, it’s about you and Mark and the hopes that you may find someone better than your ex.

“Thank you,” you only said. “You look handsome too.”

Mark lets out a chuckle, “should we get going?”

You only nod as Mark guides you towards his car, opening the car door for you which makes your heart flutter. The seat was comfortable and the interiors of the car looked interesting. Your eyes scanned the inside and noticed how it’s polished clean. Even the smell is nice and not those heavy air purifiers that pierces through your nostrils.

Mark enters the car, and his hands trail towards the seat belt, placing yours first before his.

“I’ll just put the music on shuffle, but if you want, you can connect your phone if you want to play any songs that you want,” he said, pressing play on the car’s stereo.

“I love this song!” you said, humming along the song.

Mark only smiles as he watches you dance lightly to the song, he revved the engine and started driving. He taps on the steering wheel as you continue to sing. He finds you cute, enticed by the lyrics of the song and even attempting to hit the high note.

“Oh by the way, where are we going?” you asked.

“It’s a surprise,” he teased.

“Any hint at least?”

Mark hums for a moment, “it's outskirts of the town.”

You became quiet, wondering what he means by outskirts. It’s either on the hills where the grassfield is clean and a perfect place for a picnic. Donghyuck gossips to you that it's supposedly a perfect hideaway for hookups and sex.

You glanced at Mark for a second and your heart started beating. There’s no way he’s going to bring you there. It’s too early! But a part of you thinks that Mark isn’t that type of guy who wants you for sex, so maybe it’ll be a wholesome picnic.

Hopefully.

But as your mind starts to panic, he turns left which is the complete opposite towards the side, your eyes widen. You know where this is going.

“We’re here!” he said, parking his car in front of the restaurant. As you step outside, you can feel the wind gently sweeping your skirt. You glanced at the sign. It was neon green, blinking due to its weariness. It’s been years since you went here and a sense of nostalgia hit on you.

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” you said with an amused tone. “I loved this place when I was a kid! I hope they still have their karaoke here.”

“I’m sure it’s still here,” Mark said. “Should we get inside?”

The interiors are still the same as when you were kids. The smell and the vibe, it’s all there! You see the karaoke on the diner’s corner and you can see that it’s still working, just waiting for a patron to drop a coin and pick a song number.

You and Mark chose the seat on the corner of the restaurant. It has a couch instead of the usual chairs, that’s why it’s more comfortable for both of you. The restaurant wasn’t that crowded with people, but it was still bustling with noises.

After the waitress wrote down your orders, your eyes couldn’t stop scanning the place. It is a memorable place for you. Your parents always bring you there on your birthdays or whenever you get good grades. You weren’t able to return to the restaurant ever since your parents moved to another country for work. You long forgotten about the restaurant too, that’s why it was a surprise that Mark brought you there.

“How did you know about this place?” you asked.

“This has been a popular restaurant ever since I was kid,” Mark explained. “I was craving their chicken and fries that’s why I brought you here.”

You laughed at his explanation but you saw his genuine side about it, “thanks. It’s been a long time since I went here.”

Mark only smiles. “Well, I’m happy that you loved it.”

As your order arrived, you and Mark downed on the food while at the same time continued your conversation. You two recalled the memories you two had when you were kids. Even listing down the songs you used to sing at the karaoke. Mark was convinced that at some point, when you two were kids, you two met at the restaurant.

Halfway through the slice of strawberry shortcake that you two ordered. You decided to be bold, standing up and approaching the karaoke.

“Are you going to sing dear? The songbook is on the side,” the waitress said with a bright smile.

You gave her a smile, “I hope my favourite song is still here.”

As you pressed the number, you were surprised that Madonna’s Crazy for You is still listed. You placed down the coin and the familiar tune began to fill the air. Applause from the customer began as you sang the lyrics.

You swayed along the song. You watch as the customers stood up and danced along with you. You turned around and saw Mark, smiling at you and even mouthing “wow” making you smirk as you winked at him. You continued to sing, feeling the rhythm, and then a bright idea popped into your mind.

Slowly, you approached Mark, who at first was embarrassed, but after much convincing from the crowd, he stood up and danced along with you, earning cheers from everyone. As the song ends, you let out a small bow and were about to return to your seat when Mark pulled you.

“Hey, sing with me on this one?” Mark said. You watch as he pressed some number and as soon as he dropped the coin, your heart shrunk.

You know this song. You know damn well this song. Because this is your song with him. The upbeat song of Starship’s Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now filled the room and you watched as Mark sang the first line. Fuck. He used to sing it with you, because he likes the song so much.

It quickly grasped into your mind that it was Mark who’s you’re singing with, you plastered a smile as you sang along the lyrics. In the eyes of the crowd, you two look like a couple. Two teenagers in love and having the best moment of their life, especially when Mark grabs your hand and twirls you before singing the bridge of the song.

You managed to finish the song, and the crowd cheered, even shouting “Kiss!” from them. Mark tried to brush it off, and you only let out a bitter chuckle because of the awkward situation.

After that whole singing session, you and Mark have called it a night. You were in a daze as you two exited the restaurant. You only snapped out of it when Mark held your hand and intertwined his fingers around it.

“Did I startle you? Sorry,” he was about to let go when you squeezed it lightly.

“No, it’s okay, my energy was just low because of the karaoke,” you explained, smiling at him.

“I had fun,” Mark said with a sincere tone. “I’m really glad that we went there.”

“Well, thank your chicken cravings then,” you teased, making him laugh.

As you two drive to your place. You two fell into a peaceful silence. You only watched as you passed by around the town. You couldn’t help but to lean on to the car window.

Tonight was fun. Being with Mark was fun. But as you sit there in silence your heart couldn’t help but to yearn for him. It’s hard. You wanted to cry and to let out all of your emotions. You wanted to blame him, because right now, he’s occupying your mind when it should be Mark who’s sitting next to you.

And as soon as Mark parks his car in front of your place, you couldn’t help but to stare at your apartment.

“You okay?” Mark asked.

That made you glance at him, “me? Of course, why?”

“You seem to be in very deep thoughts earlier,” Mark explained. “Wouldn’t mind telling me what it is?”

Mark is sweet. He was a gentleman, not to mention, a really popular guy in your university. Everyone wants him. Girls are lining up for him and would die to be in your place. And yet, you couldn’t find yourself lucky that he likes you.

Because Mark is not him. No matter how nice, sweet, and good-looking Mark Lee is. He is not the one you love. And you hoped that this night may change it, but no. He’s still occupying your heart.

“Listen Mark,” you breathe out. “You're sweet and caring, I had fun tonight but…”

You don’t know what to say. You don’t want to hurt him, you couldn’t bear to hurt Mark after you two just went out. It felt like a jerk move to do so.

But a part of you wants to be frank with him too.

“I just, I don’t think I’m not ready to be in a relationship,” you confessed. “If ever we’ll be together, I wanted to make sure that I can give myself to you but right now —”

“You haven’t moved on from Jeno, haven’t you?”

There it is. Mark mentioned his name and you can feel your heart beating nonstop. God, your ex-boyfriend had you wrapped around his fingers

“I’m sorry,” it was the only thing that you could say.

“No, it’s okay yn,” Mark chuckles. “It’s my fault too, I pursued you too early.”

“No, oh my god. It’s just —-”

“It’s fine yn no worries,” Mark gives you a smile, making you feel more guilty. “But that doesn’t stop me from pursuing you, you know that? I’ll be waiting until you’re ready.”

You could only let out a small smile, but in a split second you leaned onto him to give him a quick kiss on his cheeks. “Thank you Mark, I enjoyed our date tonight.”

“I’m glad you did.”

You bid goodnight to Mark. you gave him a smile one last time before going inside your apartment, as soon as you close the door, you couldn’t help but to lean against the door as you hear his car’s engine slowly fade into the background. You can still feel the coldness of the ac, and the scent of the lavender purifier of Mark’s car lingered on you.

But it felt different. Weird. Unfamiliar because you know that Mark’s car isn’t his.

Pt. 2 Jeno’s POV coming soon.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct x reader #nct #nct dream imagine #nct scenarios #nct fluff #nct mark #nct mark fic #nct mark fluff #nct mark imagines #nct dream mark #mark lee imagines #mark lee fic #mark lee x reader

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rabbitcrimes · 1 day

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Wangxian Fic Rec: Science Fiction Double Feature 🤖🚀

Mostly wangxian fics with sci fi elements - space, dream science, mindlink, androids, cyberpunk cities etc

Out of Nothing by Pip (Moirail) - zhanchengxian - 27k Summary: You and me, Wei Ying had said. Jiang Cheng is going to take him at his word. Command says that the first neural link is the one that stands out the most, the one that everyone has to be the most careful of, because a navigator’s thoughts can get tangled up with their pilot’s and become inextricably linked. Entangled. My Notes: All time fave. If I ever shut up about this fic you should assume I've been body snatched. Transhumanism, nostalgia, space opera, mindlink.

In Imitation of Life by travelingneuritis - wangxian - 70k Summary: Lan Zhan stops in front of one of the bespoke duplicates— a male figure, small, creamy-skinned and lithe. The name on the plinth reads Mo Xuanyu. Lan Zhan tested it on his first pass through the room. The doll was empty. No signals bouncing around its artificial brain, no operating programs queued to autostart. Not even a blinking dormancy light. "Hey big guy," says Mo Xuanyu, chrome eyes sparkling with fun. "Who do I gotta fuck around here to get unplugged?" Wei Ying is a rogue AI come to life. Lan Zhan is… handling it. My Notes: This is my Neuromancer. Actually one of my favorite cyberpunk cities EVER. When I figured out what OP was doing with the city and plot structure I legitimately went insane. Android erotics, cyberpunk city.

More fics under the cut!!

via AMONG THE STARS BY PLONK (a series of oneshots set in Firefly's CU, all really excellent but I want to draw attention a few all time faves) A Monk and a Myth - wangxian Summary: take_me_to_church.mp3 My Notes: This is THE and I mean THE final word on science fictional religiosity and devotion. Can not imagine trying to tackle those concepts without having read this. Man as myth, folk heroes, Lan Zhan's canon typical devotion. a grease monkey, a companion, and some pals aboard the lil apple - wangxian My Notes: Lan Wangji is a very prim and classy companion (in universe style of sex worker) and Wei Wuxian is a ship repair guy and Lan Wangji teaches him the ways of the secular flesh. My fucking god do I think about this sex scene all the time. Like, weekly. a chatty mechanic and a silent academy survivor aboard the lotus - wangxian genderswap Summary: Just really excellent. Wei Wuxian is a ship mechanic and Lan Wangji has psychic abilities from medical experimentation from which she's been rescued. Solidly space western, the end of this one is just wonderful. Love the mindlink elements here. escapees aboard the radish - wangxian Summary: So absolutely crazy about this one. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are both ex academy students or have both been victims of psychic medical experiments. I love it as a story about trauma and living in aftermath. Mindlink.

promises of the future by spookykingdomstarlight - wei wuxian/wei wuxian - 3k Summary: His ocular sensors spin themselves to life. In the mirror, he sees himself. And he sees himself, himself but different, reflected from the mirror he’s resting against into the mirror he’s facing. Himself but slighter, features sharper. Himself, with eyes brightened by the power of a star. Himself, crouched above himself, close enough to kiss. My Notes: Yes you read that pairing right!! Give it up for robot eroticism!!!! Android erotics, cyberpunk sensibility.

some lovely, perilous think by varnes - wangxian - 24k Summary: Jingyi makes a sympathetic sound. “I’ve got a buddy in one of the Hefei labs, and he says there’s some evidence to suggest that people stuck in limbo develop, like, whole new neural pathways. And you go in and out of it all the time, right, so who knows what your brain is up to.” His eyes light up. “Oh man, would you let me — ” “Obviously no,” Wei Ying says, voice flat. “But you’re close enough to right. I can keep you all safely in the level, but it’s tiring. I can’t be both dreamer and extractor.” “I’ll do it,” Lan Zhan cuts in, before Jingyi can protest or Wen Yuan can ask any further questions. “It’s not a problem.” “Are you sure?” Wen Yuan asks, brow furrowing. “If your sub-security picks up that Xian-gege doesn’t belong — ” “They won’t.” Wei Ying frowns. “Not for nothing, ge,” he says slowly, “but the last time we were in your dream together, I fell off a cliff.” Lan Zhan looks up and over at him. There is something in his eyes that Wei Ying can’t quite read: something fierce, and faraway. “I remember,” he says, voice quiet. “Do you?” - Wei Ying takes a dream heist job with an old friend. My Notes: God this is wonderful. We've got a full cast and some case/heist fic flavoured science fictional elements. I think it plays very nicely with a lot of the other cool mindlink stuff on this list.

world.runExecution by pip (moirail) - zhanchengxian - 30k IN PROGRESS Summary: What does it mean to be human, anyway? “Here we go,” Wei Ying mumbles, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t have the chance to ask what that means before Wei Ying’s squaring up his shoulders and moving in a way that cuts a swath through the crowd. My Notes: my group chat commissioned this for FTH in 2022 and it remains the love of my life. Pip you beautiful genius. CYBERPUNK I LOVE YOU.

i will be chasing a starlight by feyburner, sundiscus - wangxian - 71k Summary: “You know what?” Wei Ying said. “I think we should be friends.”

“Vulcans do not have friends,” said Lan Zhan. He was staring very determinedly at the screen in front of him.

Wei Ying frowned at him. “That can’t be right.” My Notes: I am so insanely crazy town about this fic. God there has not been a filler entry on this list YET! below the clouds, above the lakes by northofallmusic (tofsla) - wangxian - 22k UNFINISHED Summary: Wei Ying was not formally considered a Jiang until it became necessary for a Jiang to marry a Lan as a guarantee of alliance. Now, in the habitat dome which houses the palace known as the Cloud Recesses, he has to navigate a new role, a new marriage, and an unfamiliar tangle of political relationships and loyalties. My Notes: I remember LOVING the worldbuilding on this and really enjoying the space OP was playing in, I thought it was worth a read. Thank you so much to everyone who recommended fics!! It's coming to my attention that this list is going to get massive so I'll reblog as I read and update it 🚀

#absolutely loving how much mindlink this fandom produces #you guys are so smart ur brains are huge and i love you #put a BUNCH of stuff in my to - read so i'll update as i go :)#wangxian fic rec #fic rec

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feyhunter78 · 2 days

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Chapter Four - Jon goes to visit Old Nan and sets his future in motion.

Series masterlist

Jon dreams of you again, and again, and again, night after night, your back against the wall, bleeding out in his arms as you beg him to protect you. The time for him to set off for the Wall grows ever near, not too close, but not far enough away he can forget its approach. It plagues his mind, his desire to join his uncle, to prove that he is worth something, warring with an inherent need to be near you, to protect you from the horrors that live within his slumbering consciousness.

He has other dreams as well, smaller, less gory dreams, and when they start to bleed into his waking world, he turns to the only person alive he believes will have some semblance of an answer.

“Greendreams, they run in your blood.” Old Nan says simply, once he has finished telling her of his plight. Her needlepoint is in her lap, her frail body wrapped in thick blankets, even with the fire roaring beside her.

“Greendreams? But I am not a warg, Ghost, and I do not share a mind.” He protests, half serious, half humoring the old women.

“You need not share minds to have the dreams, nor do you need to be a greenseer to possess greensight, they are not one and the same.” She explains, her voice growing stronger as she speaks. “You must listen to these dreams, prevent the horrors if you are able.”

“I am to go to the Wall, but Lady y/n will return to King’s Landing, how am I to protect her?”

She fixes him with a look, one that he knows means she thinks him simple.

Jon stares into the fire, a silent prayer to the gods. He cannot protect you from his place on the Wall, he must make a choice, though he’s unsure if it is fully his to make. He alone cannot choose to return with you, he is a bastard, he has no place in King’s Landing.

Old Nan dismisses him without sparing a moment for his internal turmoil, and in his meandering, he runs directly into your father.

Tyrion looks up at him frowning, and Jon already fears he has spoiled his chances.

“My apologies, Lord Lannister.” He says, taking a quick step back to give the man room.

Tyrion scans him, searching him for weaknesses, his piercing green eyes, picking him apart. “My daughter, she is beautiful.”

Jon says nothing, only nods.

“Speak boy.” Tyrion snaps, glaring up at him with the might of a man three times his size.

“Yes, Lady y/n, is very beautiful.” He shifts his weight imperceptibility, hoping someone will come and save him from this encounter.

Tyrion nods. “She grows more beautiful each day, I worry for her, as all fathers do.”

Jon nods again.

“I know the circumstances of your birth are not…conventional, but they are many ways for a bastard boy to earn a name for himself in King’s Landing.”

Perhaps the gods had been listening to his prayer. “My Lord?”

Tyrion clasps his arms behind his back. “I have spoken with your father, he is to join my good-brother as Hand to the King and return with him to King’s Landing, he is bringing Lady Sansa with him, and you, if you agree to my proposition.”

Jon knew his father wouldn’t be able to deny King Robert anything, but to think…

“If you come to King’s Landing you shall come as my daughter’s guard, her sworn-shield, you will not leave her side, you will give your life for hers, and in return you get to escape your dreary life here.” Tyrion continues, giving him an expectant look.

“I am not a knight.” He says dumbly, the implications of what Lord Tyrion is asking him weighing heavily on his shoulders.

“Not in this moment, but my good-brother would be more than happy to knight the son of his dearest friend.”

“Why?”

Tyrion scoffs. “I offer the boy the chance of a lifetime, and he asks why? Because boy, I have seen you fight, and I know how deep loyalty runs in Stark blood, I will not worry for her safety if you are at her side. Besides, she is…fond of you.”

His heart sings, pushing all worries and tortured thoughts aside. She’s fond of him, his lovely lady is fond of him. “And my father approves, truly?”

“Yes, boy, he does, now will you give me an answer, or will we stand here all night while you ruminate in brooding silence?”

Old Nan’s words fill his head, accompanying the sounds of your sobs, of your pleas for him to promise you, to save you. “I will go.”

Tyrion nods. “Good, now we need to get you knighted, and some better clothing, my daughter shall not be seen with such a rumpled looking sworn-shield.

Jon looks down at his tunic. “I was asleep before this, Lord Lannister.”

“Still.”

It’s a blur, Arya’s anger then tears, Sansa’s distance, Robb and Theon’s claps on his back, Lady Catelyn’s strained smiles, and his father’s genuine one as he kneels before the king to be knighted.

The Great Hall of Winterfell is nearly empty, the bannermen returned to their homes, the servants busy cleaning or helping load the luggage of various royal family members back onto the monstrous wheelhouse Queen Cersei travels in. The sconces lit, his family and yours in a half circle surrounding him, King Robert at the center, Lord Stark beside him, Queen Cersi on the other. Prince Joffrey leers at him, but Jon ignores him, keeping his head bowed.

Ghost sits by his side, a red kerchief tied around his neck, a gift from you, one Jon was surprised Ghost allowed you to tie around his neck. It’s darker than the normal Lannister colors, more crimson than ruby.

He knows you and your father don’t have a personal coat-of-arms, but he has noticed your gowns, and your father’s doublets tend towards darker, more cool toned shades of red and gold. A small act of rebellion, a way to set yourselves apart? He’s unsure, but now he knows he’s part of that act, willing or unwilling.

It matches his eyes. You had said, smiling up at Jon as you smoothed down the fur between Ghost’s ears, the crimson fabric stark against his snow-white fur.

Kneeling before the King, Jon doesn’t feel he truly deserves to be knighted. He has won no battles nor performed any great feat of valor, he has trained, he has studied, he has been loyal, but he hasn’t done anything the bards sing about, or anything detailed in those books Sansa reads.

“Rise Ser Jon, shield of the Lady Y/N Lannister, bound before the gods, and your King.” King Robert commands once his sword has left Jon’s shoulders and returned to its sheath.

He does as he’s commanded and bows to the King before turning to you, bracing himself for the regret in your eyes. Surely this is a jest taken too far, he will look into your eyes, those verdant eyes, bright as spring, and see you realize you’ve made a mistake, see you ready to cast him aside.

“Lady y/n Lannister, daughter of Lord Tyrion Lannister the third son of House Lannister, my sword and shield are yours.” He says, taking a knee once more and finally summoning the courage to meet your gaze.

The persistent voice in his head that whispers how unworthy he is goes quiet. You’re looking at him with such reverence, such excitement, there is no sign of regret or jesting.

All that ran through his mind as he knelt before you now was this: he was not a poet, and he could not call himself a lover. For he did not have the skill with words others did. He could only say that he was yours, even if you did not want him, even if right now you fled across the continent, returned to the South, and cursed his name for all to hear. He would be yours until the day his breath escaped him for the final time.

“I am grateful for your sword and shield, now arise Ser Jon Snow, my sworn sword, my protector.”

When you bid him to rise, addressing him by his name, calling him yours the air that fills his lungs tastes sweet, and he presses his lips to your hand, clasping it a moment too long, evident by Tyrion’s sharp cough.

“I will serve you well, I swear before the old gods and the new, my life is yours.” He says, keeping his voice steady, his face set in an expression he hopes reads as serious but not stern. He’s always had trouble walking that line, finding he often looks far more sullen than he feels.

“As mine is yours, Ser Jon, I entrust it to you.” Your words are clear, ceremonial, and he would easily believe the words are typical of a sworn sword ceremony if not for the way King Robert’s eyes flicker to your face.

The next days fly by, and soon he is standing outside your door, red cloak marking him as a guard of House Lannister, hanging from his shoulders. It’s one that’s not darker than the others, which makes him feel odd. Did you not wish him to match you? Was he not deserving of your crimson fabrics? His armor is new and shined to perfection, his boots new as well, and slightly stiff, his sword hangs at his side as Ghost sits patiently waiting at his feet.

Lord Tyrion exits first, dressed in finery, a small satchel at his side. He looks up at Jon and nods. “Red suit you, do not make me regret this.” Then he brushes past him, heading down the hall and towards the main gates.

You appear next, form wrapped in dark red velvet, a white fur lined cloak folded over your arm, your gown belted with a chain of gold, that accentuates your waist and hips. Your hair is down in a Northern style he finds quite familiar, it looks beautiful on you, framing your face just so.

Jon jerks his eyes away before you can notice his stares and bows his head. “My Lady.”

You smile at him, your bracelets jingling as you reach down and hold your hand out for Ghost to sniff. “Are the others ready to depart?”

“Yes, My Lady, all but Lady Sansa.” He says, offering his arm to you.

You take it and begin to walk through the halls with him, your brows furrowed in concern. “Is Sansa alright?”

He thinks through his words, speaking slowly. He doesn’t want to give you a bad impression of Sansa, you seem fond of the younger girl. “Lady Sansa is…upset at the addition of Lord Theon.”

You snort, then hide your smile with one hand, embarrassed. “She did not expect your father to let him remain here, did she? He is an assurance the Iron Islands will not revolt, if he is not within Lord Stark’s grasp then what danger would he be in?”

He hadn’t thought of it that way. While Theon was an outsider like him, he existed in a space entirely different from Jon. Theon was Robb’s closest companion, the two shadowed each other, fought together, jested, and patronized brothels together.

“I think it is less that he is accompanying us and more that he is to be her guard.” Jon continues, half entranced as the scent of jasmine rises from your hair when you toss it over your shoulders.

“But he is not her sworn sword, so she will not have to spend every moment with him by her side. Besides, it is not as if he is unpleasant to look at.” You say nonchalantly, as if you two are simply friends having a casual stroll, your lips quirking up as you bite back a laugh.

You have perfect lips, plush and soft looking, stained a light red color by the berries from your morning meal, for a moment he wonders if you would taste of them.

“You find Theon handsome?” The words spill out before he can stop them, and he fights a rising blush when you fix your emerald eyes on him, taking him apart the same way your father did those few nights ago.

“Perhaps…” You stop right as you both reach the gates and turn on your heel, making a show of adjusting the fastener of his cloak. “Why? Do you feel threatened my sworn sword?”

“I—Theon is not a threat; he would never turn his sword against our house.” He cannot stomach the thought, though they weren’t close, he would never doubt Theon’s loyalty. The older boy had proven himself time and time again, in fact he believed Theon would turn his sword on himself before he turned it on Robb.

You pat his armored chest smiling up at him with a mischievous smile, before returning your hand to his arm and beginning to walk through the gate and towards the others. “We shall see how he feels once he and Sansa are stuck in the wheelhouse together for several hours.”

It’s begun to rain, the temperature dropping, and he wonders who will remain on their horse instead of taking shelter inside the wheelhouse. “Will we not ride alongside the wheelhouses?” Jon asks, scanning the crowd gathered outside the gates.

“You may if you so desire.” Your answer is vague, but your grip on his arm tightens and when he sees the assembled groups outside the Queen’s wheelhouse he understands why.

You, Myrcella, Joffrey, Theon, and Sansa along with the Queen, and Tommen seem to be relegated to the wheelhouse. King Robert and Lord Stark remain on their horses, the two in deep conversation, their heads bowed towards each other.

Jon has never spoken directly with you regarding your cousin, the eldest prince, but he has seen your thinly veiled contempt for the boy many times, seen the way you shrink back when he becomes overly excited or angry.

You stop on the edge of the crowd, scanning it for your father, a pout appearing on your lips when you see him next to his horse. “And of course Father will wish to ride his horse, but he never allows me to ride alone unless we are within the bounds of Lannister land, so I cannot even use that as an escape.”

“It will be safer for you in the wheelhouse.” Jon says, nodding gratefully at the servant who brings him his own horse.

“For whom?” You grumble miserably as your father climbs onto his horse, ignoring Joffrey’s calls.

“For you, there is no other’s safety I care for.” It’s not a full lie nor a full truth, he cares for his father, Sansa, and Theon’s safety, but he has sworn himself to you, so outwardly your safety takes precedence.

The rain picks up, no longer a sprinkle, and he lifts his cloak, stepping forward to shield you from the rain. You are so much smaller than him, delicate, your hands are soft, your skin unblemished by scars, and you move closer to him, further into the safety of his cloak.

You coo at his words, your lighthearted spirit returning. “Do you care for me Ser Jon? I am flattered, truly.”

He brushes your teasing aside and begins to walk towards the wheelhouse, keeping you within the confines of his cloak. “Please allow me to escort you aboard, Lady y/n.”

You go with him, albeit begrudgingly, your frown reappearing as you draw closer to the wheelhouse. “Ser Jon, can I not ride with you? I promise I am a very good rider, and I will not bother you at all.”

“You know her father has quite the appetite for whores, I would not be surprised he had hired some to give his daughter lessons.” Theon had jested, elbowing Robb as you passed by, heading towards the library tower.

Robb rolled his eyes but laughed, which only encouraged Theon.

“What must it be like to have a lioness in your bed? Do you think she bites as she rides a man’s cock? Are lions not known for their teeth?”

“Their claws, they are known for their claws.” Jon snapped, unable to hear such vile words spoken of you, even if Theon’s questions did spark something in the recesses of his mind.

“Ah, see Jon is in on it as well. She scratches, mystery solved.”

“No, My Lady, I am sorry, but it is not proper.” He says, dropping his cloak and gesturing towards the stairs.

The disappointment in your eyes pierces him through, and he almost gives in, but Theon’s voice rings out from further inside the wheelhouse, and he steels himself.

You nod and release his arm, traveling up the steps without looking back at him.

“Lady y/n.” He calls before he can think better of it. “If you have need of me, call out my name.”

You give him a smile and pick up your skirts, your steps looking considerably lighter, until the door closes behind you, and you are lost from his sight.

Jon TL: @mostclevermiss, @solacestyles, @2valentines

#meg's writing #jon snow x reader #jon snow x you #jon snow imagine #jon snow imagines #jon snow #theon greyjoy #sansa stark #theon x sansa #got fanfiction #Jon pov #lannister!reader

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katsona-the-katsequel · 20 hours

Text

Persona Dashboard Simulator

🧮 gwenfenrir Follow

721 notes

🐃 feathered-umbrella -deactivated202383

polls that would have broken the featherdom in the 80s

💿 wanderlust67 Follow

This is Green Parakeet erasure

🥟 blackcondorfucker Follow

do Parakeet fans don't know how to fucking read???

1,342 notes

👽 rubleng Follow

I dreamed I was in a church. But it was a floating church in space. The Phantom of the Opera was there too (never seen the movie/musical?) and he asked me about my name like a fucking kindergarten teacher. I think my dream self thought this was a Death Note episode??? Because I said smth like "Nah, no cuffs for your homosexual ass" or some shit like that. Idk I wrote this as soon as I woke up cause it seemed like something my audience would like.

👽 rubleng Follow

What the fuck is everyone in the notes talking about? OH MY GOD DID I TALK TO GOD??? GUYS???

13,819 notes

🧅 bloodfromsky Follow

My grandparents are from Inaba. The fact that not even 5 years have passed before some Hollywood exec decided to capitalize on the murders and their trauma? Honestly, fuck everyone.

🎠 cut-chaos Follow

i mean, we ARE talking about the same industry that made movies gloryfying the Zodiac Killer, JOKER and Ted Bundy y'know

5,477 notes

🛕 outreal Follow

I swear Sumaru isn't even a real place anymore

216 notes

🧊 mustardice -deactivated201051

I swear i'm not making any of this up. This isn't a creepypasta or anything like thag. Last night my phone turned off in the middle of the night. Ofc i panicked and tried to turn on the light but it didn't turn on. So i'm thinking that maybe the power is ojt and go check outside but everything was green. As if there was a green light or something. And then i noticed there was a fuckgin coffin in the middle of the street. Just floating tjeew. I know my horror movies so i just go back inside and watch it from my window. I'm fucking terrified. But then everything goes back to normal and i swear the coffin turned into a person walking their dog. My lights worked again and everuhting. I'm fucking scared and i don't know what to do cause i know it was real i lived it. Idk

☯️ shellsunflower Follow

And everyone clapped.

🐨 wandering-traveler Follow

Imao the Kirijo Group got them

🦥 lawfulinsane Follow

Ok, but do vampires walk their dogs at 12 o'clock? Asking the important questions 🤔

8,972 notes

🚝 freemiumango Follow

Risette this, Kanamin Kitchen that. Why are y'all always pitting bad bitches against each other?

3,887 notes

🐂 day-paladin Follow

Just found this blurry ass picture in my gallery??? Apparently I took it on Christmas Eve. I feel like I'm tripping

572 notes

#don't worry about mustardice #the Nanjo Group contacted them before the Kirijo Group could disappear them #they're ok :)#persona 1 #persona 2 #persona 3 #persona 4 #persona 5 #dashboard simulator #i'll be bere all night

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 day

Text

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me

Spawn! Astarion x F! Ghost Reader\

Chapter 7: Skinny Love

Synopsis: You and Astarion go shopping for a dress and end up stumbling upon a very special Violin. After a week of Astarion avoiding you, you decide to do something about it.

Disclaimer- put together the picture for the banner, but I do not own any of the pictures. I did take the picture of ‘Birdie’ and Astarion on my PS5

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you for all your support and love!

Gods above, Astarion thinks, if you do exist- some assistance with self control would be appreciated.

This is probably the eighth dress you have tried on and while he can tell you aren’t happy with it, he and his body certainly are. Just like the last dress, and the one before, and the one before that.

It had been about a week and a half since you both arrived in Waterdeep and he immediately began teaching you how to fight like a rogue, but also provided you with typical bard weapons like hand crossbows. He bought several different types of weapons for you to try- so far you seem most adept with the Rapier, hand crossbows, and hand to hand combat.

However, this means both of you had been excessively close and touching frequently- sometimes in compromising positions that make Astarion want to take you right there- eat you out while you cry out his name like a prayer on the sparring mat Gale so graciously conjured up.

His libido hasn’t calmed down- it’s gotten even worse- along with his intense feelings towards you. Yesterday’s debacle didn’t help. Astarion had taken a fairly easy contract so that you could practice sneaking around. Well, the family came home earlier than anticipated and Astarion had dragged you both into a large Wardrobe that was obviously never used and only for show.

You had tried to argue in protest because you didn’t know what was going on- Astarion found himself holding you tightly against his chest, your back to him, and his hand covering your mouth.

He could smell your arousal, the way your heart started up again like a kick drum after it stopped, and you certainly couldn’t hide the minuscule moans that had left your lips when he pulled you closer to him whenever someone walked by. He just hoped you couldn’t tell how hard he was against you.

But do you actually want him or was that just the nature of the circumstances?

It’s become borderline unbearable- sleeping next to you is a wonderful experience, but he’s often up early trying to tell his body to calm the hell down- his imagination getting even more imaginative.

“What about this one?”

You hop up on the little platform and look in the mirror with your hands on your hips before twirling to look at him.

You look like a dream- the lavender satin fits your curves in all of the right ways and accentuates your hips, ass, and breasts without being overly showy. It’s modest- the top wrapped in a different direction than the floor length skirt and the straps are meant to hang, unsupported along your shoulders before dropping down along the back- reaching just below the skirt so that it looks like you are almost wearing a cloak of sorts.

“You are a vision,” he whispers, the words he’s been trying to hold back all day finally come flying out of him.

“So yes?” You ask nervously, while picking at your nails.

He nods, too worried he may give a full blown love confession in the middle of the dress shop if he opens his mouth.

Thankfully, shoes and purchasing everything was the easiest part of the day- the sun beginning to go to sleep. You kept insisting on letting you do something to pay him back for buying all these items for you, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you owe him a damn thing.

You don’t have money- you were quite literally a cat up until two weeks ago. Astarion is more than happy to make sure you have what you need- reminding you, once again, that if it were anyone else it would be a nuisance, but you are worth it.

You are Astarion’s Godsend after all.

“Gods,” you stop in front of a music shop, “look at that beauty.”

Astarion follows as you are completely enraptured and away from the world- pulled inside towards the beautiful instrument and you just stare at it.

“Ah- I see I have a fan of the classics!” The elderly man comes up and gives you a firm pat on the shoulder that Astarion has to help you rebalance from, “Made of Englemann Spruce with Maple sidings. Rosewood fittings along the pegs and the floral pattern as well as the leafing pattern are hand carved.

“It’s not for sale- it’s a part of a little competition I have put together.”

“Competition?” You are practically frothing at the mouth, “what competition!?”

The man smiles widely, he must be an older bard and a teacher. Symbols of Oghma are along the walls and Astarion is absolutely thrilled that your first real choice of stop doesn’t have a single attractive individual around. He doesn’t have any desire to fight for your attention.

“It’s not so much a competition, per say, but lots of people have turned it into one. Anyone who walks into this shop and sees this Violin is drawn to it for a reason,” he says, “but only one person is meant for this Violin. It’s waiting for someone- otherwise it sounds like shit.”

You laugh at the man’s last sentence, “so temperamental.”

“Aren’t they all?”

You look at the Violin and Astarion studies your expressions. There is apprehension and fear, but also so much hope- so much hope that you may be the one the Violin has been waiting for.

“Would you like to play it?” The elderly man rasps, “I have never felt it produce such intense energy nor yearning to be played as it is right now.”

“I know,” you whisper, “I can feel it.”

You take the violin and Astarion notes how you hold it as if it’s a living breathing human being that deserves respect. You hold the violin as if you are worshipping it- not a single sound comes from it as you gently pick it up and cradle it against your face.

“What are you going to -“

You hold up a finger to the old man- listening to the violin. Within in an instant- beautiful, bright, cheerful music pours from your finger tips and into the violin.

Astarion feels the breath he doesn’t need being stolen from his lungs and brought to life as it always should have been- the air feels warmer, but in a soft spring day kind of way. The sun’s rays seem to warm the room even though it is the evening and Astarion feels utter- complete bliss. So calm and relaxed, the store clerk seems to feel the same way.

Astarion feels disappointment float through the air when you stop playing and he notices how you look at the clerk with wide, desperate eyes.

“Is that what you were looking for?”

The man smiles and you hand him back the violin- he begins to move to the part of the store where the cases are.

“About 400 years ago- I had a feeling I needed to make this violin,” he says wistfully, “I could never figure out why- it all had to be particularly done in a certain way and when I tried to play it, it wouldn’t produce a single noteworthy sound.

“I thought I did something wrong,” he shakes his head laughing, “but then Oghma came to me and said that the violin is waiting for it’s person, it’s purpose and that I will know when they arrive.”

He places the violin in a deep blue velvet, hard case and locks it. Before handing it over to you- you look like you are on the verge of tears and honestly, so is Astarion. He is so happy for you he could scream it from the rooftops.

“I’m glad I no longer have to look,” he says with a wink, “take care of the old gal, will you?”

“With my life, sir!”

You are giddy and hugging your new violin to your chest- dancing along the streets and skipping occasionally from giddiness.

You almost miss the empty park- almost.

Astarion gently grabs your arm and guides you to the park- a few people are wandering around or sitting at the bench. One elderly woman looks at the sky crying.

“Oh, do you want to go for a quick walk?”

“No- I want you to play.”

You look at Astarion like he’s grown a second and then third head.

“I couldn’t,” you shake your head, “I haven’t played for a group in years and-“

“And yet you are still one of the most incredible violin players I have ever heard,” he whispers, not wanting to have anyone else pressure you, “I understand if you don’t want to, but I think it would be a disservice to all of humanoid kind to not hear you play tonight in this park.”

You look up at him- searching his face. Astarion is begging and pleading that you don’t discover how disgustingly love sick he is for you. He doesn’t want to ruin your friendship- he doesn’t want you to run off because you can’t possibly ever return his feelings and don’t want to hurt him.

“You really think so?”

“I know so, my Darling,” Astarion says, absentmindedly cupping one side of your face and swiping his thumb along your cheek gently, “you are brilliant and I will take every little morsel of your talents that you are willing to share.”

That seems to do the trick- you walk out on the little stage meant for bards and you begin to set up. You make sure the instrument is tuned and you seem to be thinking hard about something. You look at him while placing the violin on your shoulder and pressing your chin into it.

One of Astarion’s favorite songs hits the air and he feels engulfed in it. Your last several months of traveling had allowed you to teach him a lot about violin music and how to feel it, not just listen to it. Astarion always jumped at the opportunity to take you to see a Bard in the park after the first time at Baldur’s Gate.

You know how to play other instruments as well, but your favorite is the violin, so he always made a point of traveling faster if there had been a violinist heading to the town nearby. Gale kept him updated as you traveled- it was very easy to make happen for you.

He never wanted to walk down the Crypt of the Rothwell steps and see you grieving for your biggest fan, your mother, ever again. She died, not even saving herself, because she loved you so much she couldn’t bear to live without you. Astarion, as much as he wishes he didn’t, understands exactly how your mother felt and he can only imagine the bliss she felt at the idea of being reunited with her again or at least, not feeling the pain of your absence, anymore.

You only play songs Astarion likes- he notices. It fills his heart with hope, but he also didn’t realize how many happy, cheerful songs he has taken such a liking to.

It is because of you, after all, so it’s fitting that you would be the one to perform them. It sounds better when you play them and Astarion is certainly ruined for any other bard from here on out.

His entire life, his soul, and even 200 years of torment seem to have been balanced with every moment he has with you- now you are here and playing violin for him as if it’s the simplest task in the world.

After 200 years of keeping his candle alight, you are still helping him to see more clearly- your love, your life, your laugh, everything about you, has given him back a spark he never thought he would find again.

He would marry you tomorrow if he could. You could travel together, live anywhere in the world, and the possibilities are entirely endless. Maybe one day you will both find a couple of wish scrolls to reverse your respective afflictions.

You would never know what it means to be unloved again. You would never want for anything because Astarion would find a way for you to get whatever you needed and then some.

You play with the same vigor you started with- even though it’s been about an hour. People are gathered around you in awe, but not a single gold coin.

Astarion gets up and places a couple coins in your case- others quickly swarming. You look at him and Astarion swears he sees the emotions he wants you to feel towards him.

Love, happiness, belonging.

Several hours go by before you end up back in bed with him- cuddling close. Astarion had complimented you until your entire face and neck were a blush red color and, admittedly, he was thrilled that you had turned down every man who had asked to get to know you tonight.

However, there was one thing he struggled to understand.

“Why did you play songs that are my favorite, Darling?”

You look embarrassed and avoid his gaze.

“You are the only one worth playing for,” you whisper, “and I wanted to do something for you because it makes me happy when you are happy.”

Astarion looks at you and you look at him.

“You make me happy just by being you,” he whispers, “never change, Birdie.”

You smile and snuggle closer into him. He doesn’t even try to stop the pleased sigh that leaves his body. You relax significantly more after that.

“My mom used to put a gold coin in my case when I played in public,” you smile, your tears a mix of wistfulness and grief, “she said it made other people feel obligated to do it.”

Astarion snorts, “that was exactly what I was thinking- great minds think alike.”

You laugh and the sound fills his chest with adoration. He is truly truly fucked. Astarion doesn’t know what it’s like to be in love with someone, but this feels pretty damn close to what books describe.

He isn’t ready to shatter the illusion or go plummeting like Icarus when you ultimately reject him.

Astarion is grateful for your breathing evening out and he let’s himself continue to bask in the illusion that you are his and he is yours.

*****************************************************************

You stand near Astarion’s location and sip on your flute of Champagne- trying to soothe the bruises to your ego as Astarion confronts his mark. He flashes you a look every once in a while- frustration and fear.

You weren’t supposed to be there, but you had snuck after him- letting him think you would stay in Gale’s tower and spend the evening with them.

You had argued against it for the entire day- he used to take you everywhere, why is he suddenly leaving you behind all the time?

“You have no proper fighting skills,” he said in exasperation, “and it’s not like I can fit you into my bag anymore- even that wasn’t safe enough!”

He left in a huff and you waited a while before trailing after him. Unfortunately, he caught you pretty quickly right outside the party- pulling you into the bushes and telling you to go back. You refused and he caved, but you had to stay out of the way.

“I want you to know that I personally have no problem with you being here,” Astarion says to the imposter Marqui of Nesmé , “I actually find dogs to be relatively good company from time to time.”

The man looks positively flabbergasted under the pounds of make-up and a disguise glamor- he’s evidently not very good at protecting his identity. You can hardly judge though- Astarion is all melodramatics with pretty words and funny quips- he could disarm even the most apathetic of individuals.

Astarion is also hardly inconspicuous with the amount of male and female attention he attracts- the Marqui is obviously noticing this now too as people begin to murmur around them.

You are already anticipating possessing the ‘Marqui’ and dragging him outside before he (or Astarion) can crash the Duke of Waterdeep’s Ball. Duke-what’s-his-nuts had demanded that his guards rid Waterdeep of all Werewolf presence that had infiltrated the citiy’s walls. The order was put out due to the recent slaughtering of livestock and increased infection rate, but his guards failed. He was furious! He wanted to be the one who gets to brag about saving the day!

Thankfully the Duke isn’t privey to the fact that the stranger who will be earning his gold this evening is like a character from a children’s book; most of his plans are not thought through- despite how many times he has learned that lesson- and the execution is… well sloppy.

However, you would be lying if you didn’t say the lack of a plan is rather exciting. You enjoy thinking on your toes- you miss being the ‘brains’ of the operation and getting to be involved, but you will settle for this for now.

The man says something that you can’t hear- Astarion puts his hand over his chest in shock and takes two dramatic steps back. You can’t help the little bit of laughter that rises up your chest- Gods he’s adorable.

“Did you just-? Did anyone else hear that!?” Astarion says with fake distress, “this man just threatened me!”

The other man is panicking now- realizing that Astarion is, in fact, the one fearless asshole who isn’t going to let him leave alive without a fight.

“Will you shut your mouth already!? I did not threaten you! I merely suggested you walk away! I can give you gol-“

“With a knife to my chest, nonetheless,” Astarion says, barely containing his grin and keeping up the act, “I am positively flabbergasted- bamboozled. How dare I be treated this way in my own Duke’s home!”

“And then attempt to bribe him!?” Some gorgeous woman says before throwing her croissant at the werewolf man, “do you have no shame!? This man is a sweetheart! A hero!”

Suddenly multiple nobles are throwing their food or drinking glasses at the man. Red, angry magic begins to flow out of his skin. You are struggling to contain your laughter- how in the hells Astarion managed to pull this off is a mystery to you, but you are enjoying every moment.

“Fifty years! We’ve been married fifty years!” the unknowing widow cries, “you aren’t my Daniel!”

“Of course I a-“

Astarion looks positively annoyed that the woman has stolen his spotlight and is causing the Marqui to panic even more- you had heard rumors that the Marqui had been abnormally affectionate with his wife as of late and referring to her as “My Marquess”. That poor woman has to be so confused.

“GUARDS!!!!!” Astarion screams, “THERE’S AN IMPOSTER TRYING TO FOOL A DEVASTATED WIDOW!”

“WIDOW!?”

Leave it to Astarion to find the worst way to tell a Wife she’s now a Widow.

The Marquess cries out dramatically for the crowd- well known across the town as having a flair for the dramatic. In the meantime, Wolfie is still trying to fix his blunder, but continues to fail miserably.

“Uh your name is…. Allison?”

“MORGANA! MY NAME IS MORGANA!”

The crying continues and the Marquess slaps the man staring at her with his eye twitching.

Astarion flashes the Werewolf a shit eating grin- the same grin he wears when he knows he’s caught someone in a lie. The imposter is trembling in rage, the Marquess is performing her grief with so much agony that she looks like she is going to pass out, and Astarion continues to Goad the man.

You look around the crowd with watchful eyes- the scene Astarion is making is attracting more attention by the minute. Yet he’s still incredibly charming while he throws insults in the Werewolf’s direction. All the women and men are practically swooning- if only they knew what a terrible planner he is.

“Ha!” Astarion releases a laugh of victory, “you didn’t even bother to try to find out his wife’s name? How inconsiderate- look at the poor thing- she’s devastated! Her husband is dead, she has the face of an ancient spinster, and some stinky heathen didn’t even bother to try to play the part right.”

The Marquess is definitely more upset about the comment on her looks than her husband being in the Fugue plane. She doesn’t remain sad about it for two long though because the Werewolf summons a shadow blade and shoves it between her eyes. The crowd begins to scream and run around frantically in the ballroom.

You catch the man flashing you a wicked smile through the crowd and sizing you up out of the corner of his eye before looking at Astarion. You barely hear what he says next as you make your way over.

“I’d be careful with your next move, Spawn,” the man’s voice is suddenly louder and more malicious, “it would be a shame for your lovely friend over there to develop Lycanthropy, wouldn’t it?”

Astarion waivers for a half of a second before he goes completely blank. Your stomach turns over at the statement- probably because becoming a Werewolf is one of the last things (maybe even a throw away item) on your bucket list. You aren’t sure you can become a werewolf, but you would prefer not to find out.

The werewolf and Astarion continue to face off in the middle of the room, the guards struggling to get past the sea of “innocents”.

“Well, aren’t you one to ruin the fun?” Astarion says darkly, a stark contrast to his earlier tone, “now you’ve gone and made it personal- it’s a shame, really. I was hoping we could be friends someday.”

“A disgusting creature like yourself? My friend?” Wolfie laughs bitterly as his transformation begins to take over.

“Pot,” Astarion gestures to the man before himself, “meet Kettle.”

The man lets out a hungry growl and his skin tears unnaturally. Now in full Werewolf mode- the Imposter begins to lash out at Astarion who manages to dodge every blow until Mr.Werewolf picks up a woman and flings her at Astarion- he topples over to the ground from the impact and surprise. Wolfie begins to stalk towards Astarion, licking his sharp canines as he creeps forward.

What happens next takes mere seconds, but it feels like it happens in 10 hours as your legs make their way across the gap, silver dagger in hand, before unceremoniously lodging the weapon into the Werewolf’s throat. A high pitched, pained howl escapes the werewolf’s lips as he keels over. That was so much easier than you tho-

“GUARDS!” The Duke says as the guards come running towards the scene, “THAT COUPLE NEED TO BE ESCORTED OUT OF MY HOME! Those degenerates are not supposed to be here!!”

Thought too soon.

“YOU RAT BASTARD!” Astarion yells, “you hired me to kill him!”

“Oh did I?” The Duke shoots back with a grin, “and why in the world would I waste my money on the likes of you?”

You just barely helped Astarion up from his daze when the Vampire is grabbing your wrist and dragging you through the crowd, away from the guards. Eventually he drops your wrist when you are right on his heels, but the guards really aren’t that far behind.

You follow Astarion closely as he takes sharp corners and jumps over furniture as he leads you out of the looming castle and up one of the towers. It feels like yards are being added to their escape attempt because the stairs never seem to end. You are beginning to hear the rattle footsteps of guards getting closer to you and your heart rate speeds up even more in fear.

“Star,” you manage to yell out between breaths, “what’s the plan!?”

“I’m working on it!” He yells back at you.

Astarion suddenly changes course, exiting the tower through one of the doors. You chase him across the ramparts, through another door, and try not to lose your balance as he goes sprinting right down a hallway with an open window.

His plan is to jump!?

You are suddenly being yanked into Astarion’s chest as he goes leaping out of the window- a scream of terror dies in your throat as you go plummeting towards the ground from the 80 foot drop. With a flash from Astarion’s hand- you go tumbling and you both land at the portal entry in Gale’s house.

Your head is still spinning, but Astarion is already upright and he looks furious.

“What in the HELLS WERE YOU THINKING!?” he screams, you flinch at the sound, “are you trying to get us both fucking killed!? No scratch that- are you trying to get yourself killed!?”

You don’t know how to respond. You feel frozen and small.

He sighs, “this is a mistake- I am going to write Halsin tomorrow after the wedding and see if you can’t live with him for a while.”

“What!?” You sound even more shattered than you thought you would, “Astar-“

“No,” he begins to stalk towards the door, “you can-“

“YOU USE TO TAKE ME EVERYWHERE!” You scream at the top of your lungs, not wanting him to keep bowling you over in this conversation, “and now what!? I’m boring- I’m not enough? What is it!? Because you are not sending me away like I’m a child! We are EQUALS!”

Astarion looks at you and for the first time all week- you finally see him again. He looks broken all over, like he had only left Szarr palace mere days ago instead of months. There are even tears in his eyes and you move without thinking- wrapping your arms around him- he is quick to reciprocate and hug you even tighter.

“That isn’t it,” he whispers, looking defeated, “I don’t know if I could handle losing you again- especially not now.”

“Then why are you pushing me away?” You choke on your own words, “what is going on?”

You feel him shake his head- a sign he isn’t ready to talk about it yet.

“Okay,” you sigh, “if that’s what you want, I will live with Halsin for a while.“

Fat, wet tears hit your shoulder and you know he’s thinking. About what? You aren’t sure, but you hope he is changing his mind. The last thing you want is to go live with Halsin. You want to be with Astarion and you accepted a while ago that a romantic relationship would never be in the cards for you- despite how in love with him you are.

“No, it’s not what I want. That’s probably actually the very last thing I want, but I am so worried about you that what I want doesn’t seem important,” Astarion sighs and holds you even tighter, “I will start taking contracts that you can go on again so you can keep practicing.

“And it would be nice to have you back,” he murmurs, “it’s all rather boring without you.”

“Then please stop pushing me away,” you plead and he looks at you- still holding onto each other, “I don’t know what happened, but I feel like you don’t want me around at all anymore.”

“I am… going through something personal and,” he pauses, “I just need more time before I am ready to talk about it.”

You furrow your brow and you can feel your frustration trying to get the best of you, but you have to respect his boundaries.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“I promise- I want you around,” Astarion says, wiping away the tears staining your cheeks, “more than anything and once I figure out my, uh, personal matters- I will let you know what I find.”

“Okay.”

You leave it alone- Astarion says he needs alone time.

You can’t help but feel defeated. You had hoped he had the same feelings for you when you played all of his favorite music. Obviously he doesn’t.

Alone time usually means he’s off to find someone in a brothel and probably won’t be back until the morning at the latest. He will come home smelling of someone’s cheap cologne or perfume and will surely have a story to tell about the person's bed he ended up in last night.

You feel your unwilling tears begin to flow as you sit on the couch on the balcony in the living room- your arms wrapped around your knees and your knees to your chest.

Or maybe he is meeting with someone he really really likes and doesn’t want to introduce you. Maybe that’s the personal matter- he doesn’t want to introduce her or him or them to you yet because he’s worried you are going to be an absolute freak about it and go crazy since it’s obvious you are obsessed with him.

At least you tried or at least that is what you keep telling yourself.

“Birdie! How was- wait what’s wrong!?”

Oh no, it’s Tav. You really like Tav- you do- but she is Astarion’s friend and is probably going to tell you to get over yourself.

You wave a dismissive hand, “oh nothing- just so moved by how beautiful the moon is.”

There isn’t a peep from behind you so you assume she shrugged and walked off.

“Where is Astarion?”

Nope, too good to be true.

“He is, um, having alone time.”

You don’t mean to make it sound so venomous.

“Oh? I might need some more context,” she says with an awkward chuckle, “that doesn’t sound terrible?”

You let out a huff of annoyance.

“It means he’s at a brothel or, considering our earlier conversation, he’s with a person he really likes,” you murmur under your breath.

The silence is damning.

“Why would you think that?”

So you are right- Tav sounds uneasy.

“Gods,” you hop off the couch and look at Tav with your bloodshot eyes and arms crossed, “I don’t know because I played all of his favorite songs at the park as a sort of impromptu, ‘here is a set for you! The person I care about more than anything else in the world’! Oh by the way- THIS IS A TRADITIONAL WAY A BARD PROFESSES THEIR FEELINGS!!!!

“We fall asleep in the same bed, in each other’s arms and up until the day we went fucking dress shopping- I really thought I had the right idea. Obviously…. I was wrong.”

Tav is just looking at you and she looks like she has no idea what to say to you. You just shake your head in defeat.

“Good night Tav,” you say, “I hope this can stay between us.”

You go past the shell shocked woman and go marching back upstairs to your shared room with Astarion. Tav told you that you were welcome to any room if you wanted your own, but that was when Astarion wanted you around. Maybe it’s time to take her up on the offer.

You pack your stuff together and drag it out the door towards the next room over. You catch a glimpse of Tav who looks like she’s panicking and has no idea what to do.

“Oh um that room is going to be occupied!”

You look at her lamely, “when?”

“Uh two days from now.”

“Okay,” you say flatly, “then in two days I will clean everything up for you and find an inn- if that’s alright with you.”

“You really don’t want to stay with Astarion anymore?” Tav says with a nervous chuckle, “maybe you should talk to him before you-“

“There isn’t anything to talk about Tav,” you snap, immediately regretting it, “I-I am sorry. I- please. I can’t keep humiliating myself like this.”

Tav looks extremely conflicted.

“Okay.”

***********************************************************************

Author note: Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated! Please let me know if you would like to be on the tag list! I am using the Ghostwalk campaign for NPCs, locations, etc. It is a 3e Campaign and doesn’t mirror 5e Ghosts. I have tweaked some of the ghost powers and such for the sake of the story, but if you would like more information on Ghostwalk and the City of Manifest, there is a PDF online that is free to download :)

Tag List: @n3rdybirdee @fandomarchiveilyd @dajeong @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @bitchstarion @hereliesblackdragon @pebble-bb @preciouslittlebhaalbae @lavvyan @beepersteeper

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 spoilers #astarion x tav #astarion romance #astarion x you #bg3 #karlach #astarion ancunin #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav

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captainlilyuniverseworld · 2 days

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Let's Play Pretend

A/N: Karlach really wanted to make her thoughts known and this was the result. Full length on AO3 and as always happy reading

A/N2: If you ever wanna see specific scenarios feel free to poke my inbox :) im enjoying seeing where this goes

Let's Play Pretend

Gale tugged at the sleeve of his robe once more. He used to enjoy going to parties, granted it was often because he was performing feats of magic most people could only dream of doing. But the conversation was also stimulating.

He wasn't meant to rub elbows with Lords and Ladies. Or rather, he didn't want to. And he was really only there because-

“Gale!”

Gale let out a soft oof and chuckled as he was enveloped in Karlach’s arms. He hugged her back. She smelled less of sulfur and the hells this time around. More like oranges and sandalwood. It’s warm, but not a burning type that might sear his skin if he’s not careful. It’s comfortable.

Familial.

She was happy as they let go of each other. And he admired her choice of attire. Simple, elegant and entirely her. Her dress, Gale notes, is in the Ravengard house colors. Form fitting, sleeveless but with thin straps over her shoulders and a slit up the left side to show off her toned legs.

“Do you like it?” She does a small twist this way and that. “It was the least god-awful thing I could get them to make me. No movement in anything else ya know? What happens if we have to go into battle?”

“And what would we be fighting?” Gale asked.

“These stuffed up tarts,” she answered. “Minus Wyll and his father.”

“If I’d known we’d be doing that, I would have brought my quarterstaff,” Gale joked. She smiled and leaned against the wall next to him with her arms crossed over her chest.

“How ya been Gale? Feels like ages since we’ve seen each other,” she nudged his shoulder.

“Just about a year I think,” he nodded and sipped his wine. “How have you been?”

“Oh you know, fighting imps, killing demons…found a forge master fixed my engine right up,” she grinned and tapped her chest. “Part of the reason we're here. Wyll’s been a real friend, keeping up with me in Avernus and first thing I told him once my engine got fixed and could survive out here, we'll take a break so he can spend time with his dad.”

They both looked over and saw Wyll talking with his father. Both Ravengard’s enjoying each other's company.

“I ain't complaining about the break either. Even got my own little private villa,” Karlach grinned. “And his dad really knows his cigars.”

Gale smiled. “I'm glad. You deserve it Karlach. You both do.”

“So where's Fangs?” She asked. “Figured he'd be all up for a chance to rub elbows with all these stiffs.”

“He had some business to take care of. We agreed to meet here,” Gale answered. He drank more wine and scanned the room for one of the servers with another tray of glasses.

“And things are good with you two?” She asked.

He doesn’t miss the inquiring tone of her voice, borderline skeptical.

“Of course, why wouldn't they be?” He asked.

“Just, two of you, kinda sudden ya know? We all go our separate ways then Withers gets us all together and you and Astarion are living together, engaged. I mean fucking hell, am I gonna come back after another year to find out you two adopted or something?”

Gale snorts into his wine and coughs. He quickly sets the glass on the table to keep from spilling the remainder all over himself and a few people are looking their way. Karlach usher’s him outside to one of the emptier balconies patting his back.

She’s joking. He knows she’s joking but god’s does that still make him squirm. Marriage, even one of willing convenience is one thing. But a child? He wouldn’t even subject Tara to this kind of life let alone a child.

She winced and checked over her shoulder to make sure they weren’t being watched by prying eyes.

“Sorry, sorry,” she apologized. “Bad joke?”

He coughed and took the napkin she offered to wipe his mouth, and let out a potentially strangled laugh. “Just a bit Karlach.” He patted her shoulder. “And...it just sort of happened.” He wanted his wine.

“Alright well, how?” She asked.

“What do you mean?” He frowned.

“You say it just sort of happened, but you've never actually answered the question. Even then, ‘oh ya know, just one of those whirlwind things’,” she tried to imitate his voice. “‘You know Astarion, he’s never one to do things half-assed.’ ‘Just swept me off my feet…’”

“My voice is not that high,” he crossed his arms over his chest and caught the engagement ring in question on his finger.

Gold band with ruby center. Diamond’s set on either side. It’d been enchanted, so the only way it was coming off was if Astarion wanted it off or Gale cut off his own finger. He just didn’t have the nerve.

“It kinda is,” she replied.

He ran a hand through his hair. “There isn’t much to tell Karlach. It really sort of just…happened. I was surprised as you were but, when he looked at, when he asked me, when he…when he told me, I suppose I got caught up in it all. Isn’t that what they say love is supposed to feel like? Like your hearts caught in a vice?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Karlach put her hand on his shoulder.

“There you are!”

They parted as if burned. Astarion stood in the open doorway with his hands on his hips. Red eyes flitting between Karlach and Gale. Her hand still hovered in the air from where it’d been on Gale’s shoulder.

Continue

#gale of waterdeep #astarion ancunin #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale x astarion #bloodweave #gale dekarios #fanfic #dark fic #dead dove fic #vampire ascedant astarion #dark consort gale #post game #karlach #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #bg3 karlach

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oozeandgoo-art · 4 months

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had an odd dream that i was reading a comic book. sketched a couple of the pages i could remember.

#i might adapt this into an actual story because i am SO SO SO mad that it isn't a thing i can go back to reading #oc #im definitely keeping the concept of save-bot i fucking love save-bot he's just doing his best. i love a robot who wants to help people #im not equipped to be writing about underground rebellions with any sense of real tact though #besides its in a superhero universe/story so you know it would just be so sucks lol #sketch #god the colors were so interesting. the teal parts were all very precisely crosshatched and the fire was this gorgeous brush pen looking #colored inks that just seemed like they were MOVING #and i mean some of that was because i was dreaming but god even in my halfhearted copy you can see some of the movement #it was a bad scene but a really really REALLY fun dream. i love when a book can *get* to me so i was really enjoying it #put it aside so i could take a break and woke up. instant fury at the universe for not having it be a real book instead #ill reblog with details if anyone's curious. i can explain this scene but i dont feel like it #the green people are in a secret basement though. hiding from the government. blue jacket guy is a speedster robot named save-bot who does #rescue stuff with every fire department so fire suppression technology is not very good because save-bot "can just save you''#however they're badly over their legal occupancy and the secret basement has One (1) exit so everyone is like really fucked here.#includinig save-bot who is going to do his job until he dies because he is an ai without any sense of self preservation and he cares #which i didn't even CATCH until i woke up and started tryin to frantically note everything down #and then i was like wait. the glitter on that last page before i realized i needed a glass of water to keep reading... what WAS that...#(it was tears suspended in midair because save-bot goes so fast and also knows he's so fucked LOL)#seriously i'm so mad someone else didn't make this.

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quietwingsinthesky · 1 month

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Hiiiii! So, a few days ago you were talking about the whole thing with Amy, Rory, and River. And when I saw those posts a thought arose in my head and I wish to share it with you.

Since River grew up with Amy and Rory as Mels. And Mels was Amy's best friend do you think that they ever talked about children? Since I know that it can come up when talking with friends, and like... do you think that Amy might've ever expressed whether or not she wanted children?

And if she didn't, that Mels would've had to listen to her mother say that she doesn't want children? The idea is so heartbreaking and sooo interesting.

What do you think about it?

no, no, see, you're so right and this drives me wild.

because, the way i see it, i don't think amy wanted children. she's somewhere on the 'hasn't thought about it' to 'vaguely negative feelings about it happening' range to me, which falls sharply into 'Not Happening Ever Again' post-s6. (specifically, in terms of having a kid herself, even if she could, i really don't think she would. i do love that she and rory end up adopting a kid later, because that does make sense, for amy pond who grew up alone in one universe with her family swallowed by cracks in time before the doctor helped her set it right again, for her to want to make sure another child won't be alone in the world like she was. getting off-track here.)

and that's so. because the first real memory river/mels has of amy is of amy shooting at her. and depending on how well the silence fucked up the rest of her memory, it might be one of the very first memories she has at all. that's how she met her mother, crying for help and getting a bullet instead. her mother tried to kill her, so of course, you have to think. she must have needed to hear that she was wanted, right? even if she was taken away, even if amy shot her, at some point, melody must have been wanted?

river is good at getting people to do what she wants, but she is very, very bad at subtlety. and mels is younger, has less practice, so when she wants to know this, she's just going to ask. blunt and quick, easy enough because amy's used to the way mels will open her mouth and you just have to be ready to roll with what comes out if you want to keep up. it's why they're such good friends (like mother, like daughter.)

they're nine, and mels asks if amy wants kids, and amy wrinkles up her nose and says she won't have time for children, obviously, once her raggedy doctor finally comes back. they're fifteen, and amy and rory dance will they-won't they in a way that makes mels twitchy to watch, and taunting amy about wanting to have rory's babies is a good way to get on her nerves. but amy calls her gross, tells her she's got more life planned than children would leave room for, and besides, imagine her, a mom? it'd be a disaster.

mels does. a lot. she looks at her mother and just sees her best friend instead. she's not even sure what she wishes was there, but. maybe amy's right. and besides. imagine her, a daughter, instead of the ticking time bomb she really is? it'd be a disaster.

they're sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and on. mels stands on the outside of a love story that births a universe. and her. how do you compete with that? not that she would know, not yet, she hasn't been there. but it doesn't make her feel any less alienated when amy and rory talk in whispers about a half-remembered world that's bled through to this life, about roman soldiers and boxes and the big bang of belief.

all these memories, they never mention children. on amy's wedding day, she's different, not like someone remembering a dream but someone who lived it. rory stands straighter, won't leave her side, and they're both so much older than they were yesterday. maybe now, right? a wedding's as good a time as any to decide you want kids.

mels not being at amy & rory's wedding is such an obvious lazy way of them trying to explain why they totally didn't just throw this plot twist together at the last minute that i'm not even going to acknowledge it. of course she was at their wedding. she's their best friend. there's too many people around the doctor, and she wasn't ready today of all days, so despite this horrible burning need under her skin to strike, she stays her hand. doesn't let him dance with her because she might just tear his throat out if he gets too close. stays with amy and rory as the maid of honor should. she must have been there for the awkward questions that always gets asked, 'so, any plans for a baby?' 'when am i getting grandkids?' 'oh, you two are going to have gorgeous children together.' standing a few feet from amy in her wedding dress and watching her mother tense and grit her teeth and brush off the questions. watching her look nervously at rory but never ask if he means it when his mom asks him if he'd prefer a son or a daughter, and rory answers 'either one, some day, not anytime soon.'

god i'm just going on and on, aren't i. but really, what's it like to know that amy never changed her mind. the next time she sees them, she's already been born and stolen. i don't like let's kill hitler for. so many reasons. but there is something compelling about how recklessly river lashes out at the world, at the doctor. even her sacrifice at the end is almost suicidal, throwing all her regenerations into this man without knowing if that will even work or if it might kill her to do it. but it makes more sense in the context of someone who has reached the end of a long, long wait for some kind of indication, any kind, that her mother wanted to have her. and finally been told, no. she didn't choose melody.

#like. to be clear also: i don't think the fact that amy didn't want kids and really didn't have a choice in giving birth to river #means that she wouldn't love river. i think it would make their relationship Complicated but i do think amy loves her. so much.#that's her daughter but it's also her best friend.#but like. god. to spend your whole childhood hoping you'll hear about some little glimmer of yourself.#a dream. a passing mention. a debate on baby names. anything. and to hear nothing.#and river is. like. she is really really bad at relationships right? we know this.#the person she's closest to is the doctor and she spends most of her life believing *he doesn't even love her*.#we're talking about someone whose base assumption about everyone is that they will try to hurt her at some point so she should always keep #one hand armed.#and her mother. didn't choose to have her. didn't have that choice. that has to fuck her up a little.#(and also serve as proof that river is. so so bad at knowing when she is loved. because maybe amy didn't choose to have her but she named #melody pond after mels her best friend. she has been choosing river every day for the past however many years since mels decided to come #here and be near her mom and dad even if only as kids. but river still can't see it.#and. given the nature of how the ponds disappear from her life. and we never get any closure about them and river.#you have to wonder if she ever did. river song do you know your mother loves you?#having the melody-as-river reveal be so close to the end of the season and then getting rid of amy & rory before they can actually do #anything with the three of them as a messed up little family unit is the show's biggest crime. because i don't know! i don't know if river #knew her parents loved her! i don't know if she *ever* came to terms with how she was born and how they didn't need to choose her then to #choose her now! i don't know if river ever really felt comfortable thinking of them as her parents rather than her friends?#according to the transcripts. river calls amy 'mother' twice. (and 'mummy' once jokingly.) she calls rory 'father' once. and 'dad' in angel #in manhattan. and it just. it drives insane right? it's almost weirdly formal. like the words aren't right but she knows she should say the #and. and. i don't think i'm ever going to get over river song.#i think that's the takeaway here.#ask #doctor who #river song #amy pond #rory williams

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zeb-z · 2 years

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people who are like ‘oh cDream is morally grey, he’s morally grey’ because they want a villain with some sort of morality and sympathy as if cSam isn’t Right There

#dream apologists become the dirt I walk on #talking about the characters putting c in front of everything is exhausting #like he’s not he’s just not he’s Bad #‘morally grey because he does good things sometimes and had reasoning for his actions even if they were bad’ that’s not dream that’s Sam #Dream is just a selfish asshole who wants power and feels threatened easily and is obsessed with tommy like some sorta freak #Sam though? Sam?? swayed into torturing dream using his emotions? split between his wants and his duties?#warden who can’t risk dream escaping vs sam who’s been trying to help tommy heal #sam who killed Ranboo because he follows through with his threats and couldn’t let dream escape any means necessary #who didn’t even particularly care that much because he found out how Ranboo caused the explosions on top of the prison #who kidnapped Michael not to hurt him but to ensure he had power of the right people so he could ensure the greater good #see when dream was trapped in the prison he commissioned that was poetic justice. when Sam was trapped it was complicated #he’s so ‘I’m tortured by my actions but I have to do what’s hard for the greater good’ and then it doesn’t matter #Sam? he’s done some fucked shit. but god if he’s not a sympathetic character #or at the very least understandable in how he sees what he’s doing is good or for others #Dream is constantly ‘what can I do to make me look good’ ‘what can I do to get what I want’ and grabs for power and abuses tommy #dream smp #dsmp #awesamdude #dream #c!dream #c!awesamdude #mcyt #z speaks

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mothslimes · 1 month

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said it before i say it again. maybe it's less internalized misogyny and more "girls who look and act like this literally bullied me from kindergarten to 12th grade and beyond" so no i would rather not talk to girls who treat female beauty standards as the holy law

#mik talks #if you think criticizing female beauty standards and those who impose them on others = criticizing all women then you might be the sexist #like im so fucking tired of feminism being all about the poor stereotypically beautiful women wearing pink skirts who are soo forced into i #hey what about the girls on the playground who were their perpetual fucking victims in their pursuit of gaining mild power #those who coulkd never even dream of fitting the mold because they werent white or straight or skinny or cis or whatever the fuck #like even the fucking barbie movie is about some beauty standard white blond skinny feminine woman being sad about sexism #this is what many terfs dont understand lul. for some feminity is a cage they dont even fit into #they have no fucking safe area of just performing their societal role #if i see one more 'fixed' 'pick me' comic where they make the author kiss the girl thats based on their bullies i will kill something #yeah blablabla the plastics in mean girls are actually victims yaaalll.... its so sad theyre the real victims......#when will yall accept that stereotypically beautiful (especially white) women still hold power. and are often bullies.#my mom is being harassed at her workspace by her exclusively female colleagues but u tell me again how female spaces are so wholesome #and oh tell me more about the perfect female commune and the matriarchy. god you guys make me sick #oh you felt forced into performing feminity and your friendships seemed a little fake? i was called slurs in 6th grade #they stole my stuff. destroyed my things. hit me. cyberbullied me. but oh you had it so bad #to be clear this is not to say these women hold the same power as men but yeah lets not infantilize girls who CHOSE to put others down #nerdy girls who make fun of popular girls being shallow were never the problem :skull: but you all called them misogynists for being pissed #for being bullied....and wanting to feel some mild sense of superiority in their lower social role

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cestacruz · 1 month

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Mmm Jeanne

#servants cant learn new stuff (i'll talk about jalter in a second) therefore #jeanne shouldnt know how to read or write #we actually Dont get a confirmation that she can do those things in summer 3. because the book that jalter thought jeanne wrote #was actually Her own book #jeanne works with marie. maybe she comes up with the ideas and does rough drawings that marie would be Delighted to bring to life #marie reads to jeanne is my image #jalter taught herself how to read and write and i think that was possible because of the unstability of her existence #if you try to teach jeanne how to read and write it will stick for a second but if like idk 15-20 min pass she would likely find herself #unable to read again and her writting to be suboptimal #she can sign her own name ofc thats historical #she can recite the bible from memory iirc #i love jalter's ability to be her own person even if it comes with the fact that she is very much. an ephemeral dream #like her FCKING SKILL IS CALLED.#WHY MUST YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS FGO #anyway. now jeanne again but physical #oughhh thank u for the support in the tags when i said jeanne should have self image issues because she looked different in life #i hadnt fully talked bout it i just went with hair but yeah. i need to check again because im pretty sure her body wasnt Suuuper different #but i just gotta confirm #but im just so i love the idea of her just not liking the way she manifested abd not knowing Why she manifested like that #when there are Countless depictions of her with her short brown hair #sieg looks to the side whistling (its not his fault but he knows the pseudo servant part #and its probably a mix of . fate apocrypha's manifestation and of how some people imagined jeanne looked like #but it still upsets her #not that she'd ever complain to people #you can probably get it out of her tho #unrelated and only to those who reached this far: im thinking of a singularity set in 15th century orleans in the Middle of the hundred year #war. but the difference aint “oh jeanne d'arc came back to life evil” rather than “there seems to be a battle here where it shouldnt and oh #my god is that jeanne- oh god jeanne d'arc fucking died--#and chaldeas has to try and fix the war without living breathing jeanne d'arc #actually thats not the middle of the 100yearwar but yknow what i mean. also haha jk unless...

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katyspersonal · 1 month

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3 for Aldrich, Aldia, Willem & Laurence

9 for Maria

11 for Micolash & Aldrich

24 for Laurence

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

3) What first drew you to this character?

As for Aldrich, I vaguely recall finding out that he checks the traits I like the most? He was one of the characters I've learned about through fandom and not on my own, and I think this ancient meme about summarises it:

Also:

@val-of-the-north SHUDDUP you're basically so horny for Laurence/Logarius/Snatchers that you can't even picture them in your mind in any way but being naked!!!!!!! *casts the stone back at u*

With Laurence, like with Mico, it was the very first glance at the character in Youtube compilation with boss themes and concept art image. I did not know the lore yet, but the design and the music made me imagine Laurence as sort of aged, sagely librarian. I could not imagine back then that his boss fight would be him being a "helpless abhorrent little mewmew" as kids call it! Heck, I thought he'd have dialogue despite the monster form x) In a way, my first impression was not wrong, with the cut content of him actually talking even in a beast form, and implication of him being a son of Cainhurst cut content librarian NPC! I have intuition for cut content before having information, hahaha!

I have nothing to say about Willem. It might be a memory gap thing, but I swear at some point I feel I was turned off and then booted back up with liking this character already installed in my system x) As for Aldia.... ugh for fuck's sake... yeah, it was this legend:

youtube

I was absolutely floored by this stupid vid even without knowing any context, but I also instantly liked this character. I didn't even know his name yet, but the voice acting and long yapping about philosophy already pulled me in XD (Also unironically, this video is precisely how I give relationship advice fhfhdds)

9) Does this character remind you of anyone you know? Does that affect how you see them?

Yeah, I know this person. I know them very well. I know them more than anyone else. Someone who was misguided (by their destructive influence mentor figure, by their own foolishness and past history, or combination of both, who can tell anymore?) into committing awful things, then despaired over their sins and attempted redemption but also failed in some way? This person is me. At some point I've found myself in front of horrible truth about my past life and personality, and knew I was guilty and sullied forever. That it was over for me as a human being, but that didn't matter, and I could only keep people safe by locking myself away and trying to serve something better.

......annnnd it took a few years of more informed people to (metaphorically) shake me and slap my face into lucidity, explaining to me that I've fallen for the "BPD demonization" that was going far beyond than my individual failure as a friend, and we are always accused of abuse and causing irreversible harm when the worst we do is being emotionally overbearing. I kept losing trust to those friends, telling them that they were enablers who tried to gaslight me into thinking I was not 'that much of a monster', until it was other people with BPD who 'shook me and slapped my face into lucidity'. xd Nonetheless, even though now I know the truth about how society treats BPDs, I remember the feeling of being so monstrous and harmful that I was not even allowed to "touch" people with my dirty hands, how my reality used to be. So, I could write Maria going through this effortlessly, especially considering what she did was more plain and tangible!

In fact... thank you for asking me about this, because I kept wondering why I had such frequent dreams about being Maria, and why the Maria in my dreams acts like abused child that took back control against Gehrman despite my portrayal of the guy being so different. And now the puzzle is solved! That part of me still lives inside, it seems.

11) How did you “fall in love” with this character?

Already answered this for Micolash here: ( x )! As for Aldrich, it was through properly analysing the bigger picture and context of his actions. I've figured that his madness was, in fact, being informed on what was far too ahead of everyone else around him! He, like the rest of the cast, is trapped in the rotting, doomed world in which the only choices are 1) "die with dignity" or 2) commit something unthinkable from moral standpoint for a chance to escape. And will morality of the rotting world will matter in the new world anyways? Won't it all be left behind and be forgiven?

The guy also tried to take everyone else he could with him, like sort of a fucked up Noah's Arc! I can tell that they reused the concept with Rykard, at least, I am glad they know what works xD I'd say that the sadism he experienced upon eating people was either result of insanity (he understood a thing no one should understand), or still didn't exclude the bigger purpose (egotistically revelling in how holy he is helping everyone and doing what no one else dared, which would be like my Laurence). In any case, I have the strongest respect to the courage it takes to transcend the bonds of morality and compassion in order to to greater good. Being burdened with the knowledge of how the world really works, and choosing to push through instead of still being bound... This is why I also like Fauxsefka; learning how this world works, she chose to turn people into Kin so they can't ever become beasts. I am weak for this trope, you don't understand.

24) Do you ever dream about this character? If so, describe a dream you once had about them.

Laurence appears in my dreams only in two contexts: 1) Micolaurence or 2) dreams about finding secret files in Bloodborne that reveal his canonical appearance before beasthood! I can tell the latter comes from my everlasting unsatisfaction with my design for him, because I love it but it doesn't feel "fitting" and I can't identify why!

The former, I think, fandom rubbing onto me x) In two of these dreams, I was Laurence. In other two, I was Micolash. In one of Laurence dreams it was mutual, in the second one I was in love unrequited. In one of Micolash dreams, it was mutual, and in another it was not.. Basically, my dreams allows me to experience this ship from every possible angle. o_o Waiting for more I guess fhhdfsfd

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Thank you for asking! And.. without exaggeration, you've just done quite a psychological work on me by just asking the right thing. I need to think about that, hahaha

#bloodborne #dark souls 3 #aldrich devourer of gods #laurence the first vicar #soulsborne #ask replies #personal #memories #dreams #honestly I remember Maria in my dreams hiding in the closet like an abused bullied child.. that big strong woman reduced to this #and I finally know why it was this way #I'd rather not sully Gehrman with something as dirty as my stepdad of course he deserves so much more and he is his own man #I just don't like the approach of turning characters with their own stories and personality into vessels for my trauma #it feels like frenzied flame: you got infected by it and you have unending need to spread it. to scorch the world in your pain.#I don't think this approach would help my healing but instead make me feel worse by nourishing the trauma #I am keeping it sealed away from the world forever now </3 #see this is why it hurts me so much when gehrman haters accuse me of being insensitive to people that want to project their negative-#-experiences with men and misogyny onto him even if that means twisting the actual story and character. I do have a reason to do it myself #I just choose not to because I personally dislike the idea of making fandomry about myself more and about source material less #I don't want to bring the pain and horrors inside me into something that doesn't have them. some things can stay clean!#the passive aggression between canon worshippers and fanon enforcers is something that cannot be avoided in the fandoms #and I disapprove of the lie about 100% peace and mutual respect between the 'camps'. we will never FULLY like each other #each thinks their approach is more productive for the community. and that's fine!

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