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#but that love was different. and it was special. but i think some part of her always wanted what shauna and jackie had
feyhunter78 · 2 days
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Think I'm Gonna Call it Off
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Description: You have been Prince Aemond's secret for years now, but a certain visiting Stark opens your eyes to what could be.
Inspired by the line “think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love, I just wanna love someone who calls me baby.” From Good Luck, Babe by Chappell Roan
Part 2
This was ridiculous, you are a Lady of a fine house, virtuous, beautiful, intelligent, kind and your embroidery skills have been praised by Queen Alicent herself and yet here you sit waiting for Prince Aemond to return. To return and not spare you a single glance. Not until you are tucked away from the prying eyes of the court, until he is confident no one can hear your conversations.
You wonder if it is foolishness that keeps you sitting there, leaning against one of the many windows in the library, searching the skies for Vhagar’s great form set against the clouds.
You have rejected a number of suitors, worried your father and mother, made yourself seem all but undesirable in the eyes of the court, all because the prince swore that he would tell his mother. That he would announce to the whole of the realm that he loved you, and that you would be wed as soon as possible. He does not want a Valyrian wedding he said, he has no taste for it, he wants to honor you, honor his mother, and the Seven whom he worshiped.
“Lady y/n?” Lord Cregan Stark’s voice rolls through you like thunder, the deep baritone, the rouge northern brocade that made him pronounce your name just slightly different from everyone else, just enough that shamefully it makes you feel special.
You turn your head away from the towering window and give him a small smile. “Lord Stark, I did not expect to see you here.”
He returns your smile and leans against the wall; arms crossed over his chest.
Seven help you, he did have such strong looking arms, the sight of them never ceases to distract you. Even his thick tunic, and his dark-colored cloak could not hide them. Truly, everything about Lord Stark seemed strong. Queen Alicent said it is common of a Northmen, that they must be strong to survive the winters, while Lady Frey said it was the wolf’s blood in his veins. That all Starks had unnatural strength, speed, and stamina granted to them by the Old Gods. Neither woman’s explanation accounted for the man’s looks though.
Lord Stark is quite handsome, a strong jaw and sharp cheekbones with a close-cut beard, more stubble than a full beard though, and gray eyes like a winter storm. His dark hair is around Prince Aegon’s length, though often tied back and much better cared for. His lips are full and healed, having been cracked and dry from the drastic change in temperature on his trip down south. A small scar runs through the corner of them, on the right side, giving him a more roguish appearance. He said he had gotten it as a child, playing around with his father’s sword. And he was tall, so, so tall, towering over you in a way no man has before.
Then he laughs, the sound warming you to the bones, making a blush rise to your cheeks. “Do not tell me you think me a barbarian, as the others do. I thought you knew me better than that, little fox.”
The name he has graced you with never fails to make your heart stutter and disrupt any coherent thought you might have had. It is a reference to your house sigil, you know that. But the way he says it, how his accent wraps around each syllable, makes it seem far more…intimate than simply a friendly moniker given to you by a man who does not know your customs.
Aemond calls you his, or some sweet term of endearment in High Valyrian in private, sticking to Lady y/h/n in public. You wish he would use your name, you have told him time and time again, even the Queen and Princess Helaena use it. You have been at the Red Keep for nearly a decade now, been in the Princess’ inner circle of friends for almost as long, it would not seem strange to others.
“Lord Stark—”
“Cregan, or Lord Cregan if you must add the lord, as I have told you before.” He corrects you, but not unkindly, his lips curling up into a fondly exasperated smile.
“Lord Cregan, I did not mean to imply I believe that libraries were not your preferred place to spend your time, only that I thought you would be joining the other men on their hunt.”
He glances out the window towards the Kingswood. “And I would think you would be taking tea or sewing with the other ladies.”
You have been caught.
“Ah yes, well, as you know, Prince Aemond is to return today and Princess Helaena asked me to keep watch. She loves her brother very much but has to entertain the other ladies so could not watch for him herself.”
You pray Helaena will forgive you for involving her in a lie.
Cregan hums low in his throat and his eyes flicker to you, picking you apart. “Did she now?”
You nod, not trusting your own voice.
“The prince is lucky to have such a vision of beauty to return home to.” He says, running his eyes down your form, drinking in every detail with something akin to reverence? Though you know you must be seeing things. Cregan Stark would not look at you in such a way, there is no reason to.
“Princess Helaena is quite beautiful.” You agree, trying to keep an air of propriety around you even as your mind screams at you to flee for fear you will say something utterly stupid.
Cregan reaches out, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering for a moment caressing your cheek. “Aye, but she is not who I speak of.”
You? He means you?
You duck your head, cheeks warming once more. “You flatter me.”
He shifts forward, invading your space, the scent of forest air and woodsmoke filling your nostrils. “Is it flattery if it is true?” He is so close, still a respectable distance but close enough that you can reach out and touch him, can feel the warmth radiating from his skin.
“I believe that is a question for the maesters.” You tease lightly, your heart pounding in your chest.
“You are a smart girl, little fox, I am sure you can figure it out.” He teases back, a glimmer in his eyes that excites you.
No one teases you; no one jests or challenges you like Cregan does. You assume it is because they all know Prince Aemond has claim on you, or because you are a lady, but you are educated, and strong-willed, you enjoy a good challenge. You enjoy Cregan speaking to you like an equal.
“Truth is relative, as they say.” You offer, cocking your head innocently, barely able to keep a smile off your face.
“Aye, some say. Though your beauty is truth, relative or not. Surely you must know that.” He counters.
“Vanity is not a virtue.” You say, meeting his gaze. The storm gray of them has softened to a dove gray, mirth dancing within them.
“Neither is lying and yet…”
“Are you accusing me of lying, Lord Cregan?” You gasp in mock outrage.
“About knowing that your beauty is what every man dreams of returning home to? Yes.” He says, his tone light and blithe, but his words, and the way his eyes darken for a moment? It takes your breath away.
“Your beauty, little fox, is one that haunts men’s dreams, that keeps them fighting when they are the last standing. That they keep in their mind as they clash swords, traverse through snow and sea.” He continues, holding your gaze, voice no longer light, but heavy with intent and promise. “It is a beauty one wishes to see the moment they return home before all else, or any others. A beauty that should be admired in all lights and shadows. The setting of the sun and its rising, the summer days and winter nights, one to be cherished.”
You break away from his gaze, a twinge of sadness in your chest. Aemond has never spoken to you in such a way, he has waxed poetic about your beauty, flattered you, lavished you with sweet words, but it has never felt the same as Cregan’s did now. Guilt replaces the sadness, and you toy with the edge of your sleeves. You should not be engaging with Cregan in this way, it was not right, even if it made you feel…something. “You are too kind, My Lord.”
Cregan reaches for you, breaching what was proper, and taking your hand in his. They are so much larger than yours, so warm, so gentle. “Have I spoken out of turn?”
“No, no, I am just—I am a maiden of the South, Lord Stark, I am not used to such forwardness from a man I am not courting with.”
“Honesty, it is honesty, though I apologize for my forwardness.” Cregan says, subconsciously stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Either way, I am not used to it.” You say heart calming with each stroke of his calloused thumb.
Cregan’s brows furrow. “I have heard tales of—the other noblemen, they speak highly of you. Of your beauty, your kindness, your wit, are they all struck dumb by your very being, is that why no one has praised you as you deserve?”
You feel you should say something about Aemond, but what could you truly say? There is no formal betrothal in place, he has not publicly staked his claim beyond a possessiveness that those who spent enough time in court could see. But nothing is ever outwardly stated.
You go to speak, but Cregan stops you. “My apologies, I should not have asked such a thing, how are you to know what lies within the minds of man?”
“You are correct, I do not know their minds.” You say instead and bury down any explanation involving Aemond and his invisible claim.
A dragon roar fills the air, the window vibrates with the force of the sound, and your eyes shoot back to the window. Prince Aemond is home.
“Or they fear the mind of one man and thus hold their tongues.” Cregan says, releasing your hand.
“The prince? I—he—we…it is not—” You cannot get the words out fast enough.
“I will take my leave.” He says, remaining for a moment searching your face until it seemed he had found what he is looking for, and left.
You watch him go, admiring the strength in his stride, when he turns back, a strange look in his eyes. “At the feast tonight, might I have a dance?” He asks.
“With me?” Your heart is pounding against your chest.
He nods.
Footsteps rush by the open library door, and you can hear Princess Helaena calling out to Prince Aemond.
You stand, smoothing out your skirts with shaky hands, why did he make you so nervous? Or is not nerves, but excitement? “Of course, Lord Cregan, I would be honored.”
“I will hold you to that.” Cregan smile, then he disappears down the hall, and you are left alone to hurry after the princess.
Aemond does not call for you until hours after he has returned. When you knock on the door to his chambers, dressed already for the feast, he bids you to enter in a soft voice, exhaustion tinging each word.
You hurry to his side, clasping one hand between your own. “My Prince, I cannot tell you how happy I am that you have returned safely.”
He uses his free hand to cup your cheek, that half smile, half smirk he wears so well on his well sculpted face. “I was only gone for a mere moon, and I was never in any danger, did you doubt your Prince, ñuha nūmio?”
“No, of course not, but…you would not tell me where you were going, no one would.” You say, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“That is simply because it was not information you needed.” He says, brushing the pad of his thumb across your lips.
“But if I am to be your wife, would it not be prudent if I were to know where my husband is?”
Aemond’s eye, a brilliant amethyst, hardens, then he looks away and sighs. “Lady y/h/n I have told you patience is a virtue, and your virtue is what I adore most.”
You bite your lip, internally chastising yourself. You know better than to rush him. “My apologies.”
Aemond frees your bottom lip from between your teeth and brushes his lips across your forehead. “Do not take my words so harshly, your eagerness is quite endearing, and I to wish for us to be wed, but it is not yet time.”
You lean into his touch, “I understand.”
“How have you been amusing yourself while I was away, ñuha nūmio? Did anything exciting happen?” Aemond asks, his thumb resting beside the corner of your lip.
“Not much, it seems you had taken all the excitement with you. Though as you know Lord Stark’s arrival has caused quite a stir and now two moons later still is. Many ladies are jockeying for the position of Lady of the North.” You tell him, giggling at the memory of some of your friends’ actions.
“But not you?” Aemond asked, his tone making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.
“No, I am yours, why would I wish to be Lady of the North?” You reassured him, brushing back a lock of silver hair from his face.
For a moment, you are struck with the feel of Cregan’s fingertips, rough and calloused but gentle against your skin. The warmth of his skin, the softness of his gaze, the earnestness of his words. What was he looking for when he stared into your eyes, when he took in every detail of your face?
“If you are too distracted, you may leave, My Lady.” Aemond says, the irritation in his voice drawing you from your thoughts.
“No, no, I am not, I am just so happy you have returned.”
Aemond hums in acknowledgement, dressed in his feast finery as well. “I have missed you.”
Your heart flutters. “I have missed you as well.”
He releases your chin to trail his fingers down the column of your neck. His cool touch causes goosebumps to follow in his wake, and he dips his head low to press his lips to your cheek, then begins to follow his fingers with his lips. “I have missed you, your voice, your smiles, your touch.”
You shiver in response, grabbing onto his doublet.
“Do not touch, you will wrinkle the fabric.” He warns, even as his hands grip your waist.
You remove your hands, clasping them behind your back.
“I will not be able to dance with you tonight, mother has brought another girl for me to try and charm.” He says, into your skin, his silver hair brushing against your exposed décolletage.
Your heart sinks. “Not even one dance?”
Aemond sighs and presses a final kiss to the hollow of your throat. “You know I detest it as much as you do, but it is my duty.”
You nod, blinking back the tears that threaten to appear on your waterline.
He smooths down your hair and turns you towards the door. “I will try to find time for one dance, but I cannot make any promises.”
His words lift your spirits, and you smile at him. “Thank you, Aemond.”
“Prince Aemond, we have guests tonight.” He reminds you, then he shuts the door, and you hurry back to your chambers.
The Great Hall is decorated beautifully, and you sit at your table with the other ladies of Helaena’s circle. A wine glass in hand as you watch Aemond dance with Cerelle Peake, her brown hair pinned up with a net of gold and sapphires, her umber gown flowing beautifully as she twirled.
“Come now, y/n, you will never be asked to dance with such a scowl.” Johanna Swyft says, poking your cheek goodnaturedly.
“No, she will never be asked to dance because the prince glares at anyone who tries.” Mina Redwyne says, clinking her glass against yours in silent sympathy.
Johanna shoots her a look. “Do keep your voice down, Mina.”
You take a long drink from your glass, emptying it, then setting it down, scanning the crowd for another servant. “Perhaps I do not wish to dance.”
“I am crushed to hear that Lady y/n.” Cregan’s presence makes every lady at your table sit up straight, and you turn to face him.
“Lord Stark.” You say, bowing your head in his direction.
He holds out a hand, and you remember how it nice felt, the phantom warmth still lingering. “I do believe you agreed to a dance, earlier today?”
“Lucky.” Mina hisses, as Johanna juts her elbow into your side to prod you up and out of your seat.
You stand, and take his hand, trying to ignore the twinge of pain in your side. “I did.”
Cregan leads you to the dance floor, and you can hear your friends giggling behind you, much to your utter embarrassment.
“Your friends seem quite encouraging.” Cregan says, barely holding back a laugh.
“When they learned I have no sisters, they decided that they would act as such, apparently that means acting in a most embarrassing way.” You say, falling into the rhythm of the dance.
“I knew you had brothers, but I did not know you were the only daughter, that must make you very precious in your father’s eyes.” Cregan ventures, his large, warm hand pressed to yours as you circle each other.
“I would like to think so.” You smile, your heart aches for a moment with homesickness. “He could not attend this feast, he is too ill to travel, my eldest brother is here on his behalf, accompanied by my second-eldest brother who is here to drink and presumably enjoy the Silk Streets.”
“I never had a taste for brothels.”
“Nor I.”
Cregan smiles and twirls you. “I thought not, for I have heard you are far too virtuous.”
You shrug. “It is more, I do not wish to spend the coin.”
Shock flashes across his face then he laughs, repeating your words quietly with a chuckle, and as you are spun back into his arms you cannot help but laugh as well.
“You are clever, little fox, I will miss you when I return home.” He says, his eyes searching you once more.
Your heart stops, and you trip over your feet. “You are leaving?”
His grip on you tightens as he helps you right yourself. “Aye, I have here for two moons, that is far too long, my people need me.”
You do not want him to leave, you will miss him dearly, his laugh, his expressions, his stories. You will miss the walks you had taken together, the discussions that ran late into the night, just outside your chambers, the men standing guard pretending they were not listening. The way he presented you with the pelts of animals he had hunted, regaling you with the tale of how he felled it. Who would challenge you now, who would make you laugh, would listen to your words, and respond as if you were an equal, as if your sex did not diminish your intelligence?
“When will you leave?” You ask, unable to keep your voice steady, so you spin away from him to give yourself a moment to smother your emotions.
Cregan pulls you back into his arms, trapping you with his steady gaze. “In a few days time.”
“Oh…” You manage to choke out, swallowing hard, your eyes on your feet.
“I have been meaning to tell you, there just never seemed to be a good time.” Cregan says sheepishly.
You nod, still staring at the floor. “Well, I will miss you.”
“I will miss you too, y/n,” he says softly, then he slips a finger under your chin and lifts it gently. “In all lights, in all seasons.”
Tears blur your vision, and you hastily blink them away, not even noticing he has said only your given name, no title attached. Cregan’s warm thumb catches any stray tears that fall, and you lean into his touch, desperate for more of that something he had made you feel before. That something you realize he was always making you feel, and that he is making you feel right now, though it is tinged with grief. “Cregan, I—”
“Lady y/h/n, I believe I promised you a dance.” Aemond’s voice is steel, ice, the frigid fear that ran through the veins of Vhagar’s victim, and you hurriedly wipe away any remaining tears plastering on a false smile, before you turn, Cregan’s other hand still on your waist.
You drop into a curtsy. “My Prince, that you did.”
Cregan’s hand lingers, and your heart lurches in your chest when the warmth of it is finally removed.
Another song has begun to play, one you love dancing with Aemond to. It allows for close movements and lingering touches that you always long for with him.
“I thought you did not wish to be the Lady of the North.” He says, his eyes picking you apart as Cregan’s did but there is a cold methodical feel to it that makes you feel utterly and horribly exposed.
“He was merely being kind, no one else had asked me to dance.” You protest, falling into the rhythm as you had before.
“No one else should, you are mine.” Aemond say, spinning you out, and then back in.
His hands burn through your gown, your skin, meeting bone, and before you would have loved it, relished the feeling, but now you feel they are too hot, your skin prickles uncomfortably.
“I like to dance; I do not get to dance when you are occupied, and you are often occupied.” You say quietly, your head bowed ever so slightly.
“I had them play your favorite song, as a reward for your patience.” He says, ignoring your words. “Do you like it?”
“I do, thank you.” You smile and raise your head, hoping to catch his eye and find it brimming with affection. That would soothe your wounded heart, would banish the grief you feel at Cregan leaving.
Instead, his eye is elsewhere, you follow its gaze to see it land on the Peake girl. You do not blame her, do not hate her, though your blood turns to fire in your veins, and you brace yourself for what you are going to say next.
“When are we going to be wed, I have been patient for many years, and you never tell me when my patience will be able to end.” You say, holding your chin high. You are not a Peake, but you still have pride.
His eye flicker back to you, his grip tightening. “Are you truly asking this now?”
“Yes. Yes, I am, because I am tired of waiting, tired of watching as you charm others, tired of being shunted to the side because even though you will not claim me, no one else is allowed to.” You can no longer keep your emotions contained. “I want to be happy Aemond, I want to be happy with you, but I am not happy.”
“Not everything is about your happiness, Lady y/h/n.” Aemond snaps.
You reel back as if you have been struck. “I did not say it was. You have been the one saying you wished to marry me, promising me you would tell the whole of the realm how deeply you care for me. I have done nothing else but dote on you and be patient.”
Guilt flashes across his face, and he reaches for you, but you push his hands away. “It is not so simple.”
“Do you see my face in your dreams, does it keep you fighting, keep you marching on, am I the first person you wish to see when you return home, do you wish to see me in all lights, in all seasons?” You throw Cregan’s words in Aemond’s face and wait for a response.
Aemond laughs, taking your hands, and bringing you back into the dance. “You have picked up a new book of poetry, I see.”
You cannot find it in yourself to be angry, the shock settling in, muffling everything until it is as if you are floating underwater. The rest of the night passes that way, you go through the motions, avoiding Cregan, your friends, shooting you concerned looks.
Then the feast ends, guards escort those too drunk to find their chambers, all others dispersing to their places for the night, or into Fleabottom for more revelry.
You try to sleep, but it will not come, Cregan and Aemond’s words echoing in your sleepless mind, until finally you throw off your blankets and wrap a robe around your nightshift.
You creep through the halls, no true direction in mind, letting your feet take you where they wished, when a flicker of umber catches your eye. Pressing yourself behind a pillar, you wait a moment then peek out.
“Lord Stark, might I be allowed to enter?” Cerelle Peake’s voice is soft, as was required for the late hours.
“Lady Peake, might I ask why you wish to enter my chambers?” Cregan asks, his words thick with sleep. His hair is loose, his night shift exposing his broad chest.
“I thought perhaps you might enjoy some company.” She says, as she takes a step towards him, moving to run a finger down his chest.
Cregan catches her hand and gently returns it to her side. “I do not wish for your company, Lady Peake. Please return to your chambers quietly, and I will not speak with your father about this.”
Cerelle scoffs and turns on her heel, storming down the hallway. You wait until Cregan’s door closed then follow her.
Halfway there, you know where she was going, you have walked these halls many times. Not wanting to further your own pain, you turn back to your own chambers, but your feet disobey you, and you find yourself in front of Cregan’s door.
You knock before you could stop yourself and the door swing open, a tired and angry Cregan standing before you. “Lady Peake, I do not need any comp—” His words die on his lips as he realizes it was you and not Cerelle. “Y/N?”
“All those things you said, about my beauty, about me, did you mean them? Truly?” Tears prick at the backs of your eyes, your chest tight, your bottom lip trembling.
Cregan rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Do not tell me you woke me only to hear more flattery.”
A sob escapes your lips. “I thought you said it was truth, not flattery.”
Cregan snaps awake, pulling you into his arms. “Little fox, I am sorry, I was half asleep, yes, yes, it is truth.”
You cling to him, gripping his night shirt, your face buried in his chest as you sob, every fear, every pain spilling out into his warm embrace. “Tell me you meant it, that you see me in your dreams, that you want me, in all lights, all seasons, that I am not destined to wait forever for someone to love me.”
“I love you, y/n, I love you, you do not need to wait, I will tell you as many times as you desire. I meant it, all of it, you haunt my dreams, you plague my waking thoughts, I want you in at any time, in any manner, or light, or moment I can have you.” He says, his voice is steady, and you can feel the vibrations of it deep in his chest, alongside the sound of his beating heart.
“I want to go with you to Winterfell, I want to be your Lady of the North, or even just your mistress if my house is not a good enough match, Cregan I do not care. I love you and all I care about is that we are not parted, that we are never parted, I do not think I will be able to breathe if we are parted.” You confess, looking up at him afraid to see what you saw in Aemond’s eye.
Cregan cups your face and kisses you, the taste of honeyed ale on his tongue, his hands warm as he keeps you close, using his foot to kick the door closed so he can press you against it.
Now in the safety of his chambers he breaks the kiss, your breaths intermingling. “You will not be a mistress, you will be my wife, none will come before you.”
“Will you tell your people, will they know?” You ask, your lips brushing against his with each word.
“I will wake the whole Red Keep to announce it now if you wish.” He says, his forehead resting against yours.
You reconnect your lips with his, his stubble brushing against your skin, but you pay it no mind, letting Cregan devour you, his hands moving into your hair, as you loop your arms around his neck, keeping him close.
He groans against you, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, delving in when you part them and exploring every inch of you. “My little fox, my y/n, my wife, my beautiful, clever wife.” He presses the words into your skin, heated lips trailing down to your pulse point.
“Husband.” You sigh, tilting your neck further exposing yourself to him, his teeth sinking into the skin claiming you as his own.
“Say it again for me, my wife, tell me who I am.” He breaths, sucking, and nipping at your neck, returning to darken the marks between creating new ones.
“You, Cregan, my husband.” You say, eyes snapping open when he releases you and stalks over to the window.
He threw it open and stuck his head out, shouting. “Y/N Y/H/N, is to be my wife.”
You rush forward and pull him from the window with a scandalized giggle. “Cregan it is the middle of the night.”
“Then at the very least a few guards heard.” He says, pulling you close and kissing you again, in full view of the window, the moon, anyone else who might look up, and it is exactly as you want it.
I lied in the comments imma do a part two I’ve given into the peer pressure stay tuned my loves!!!
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peachesancreams · 2 days
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Expanding on the Wives
everyones favorite asexual serial killer and his cute wifey! this one is marked mature as it is his serial killing days. I will be going into all their deaths on the third part so stay tuned~
Alastors wife
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Okay so I said Al doesn’t remember how they first met and he doesn’t mainly because I personally headcanon that he has a lot of trauma in accordance with that time. Mainly at the hands of his father, which more then likely is one of the core manifestations of his future MO for being a serial killer, being that he killed ‘bad people’ and never outright leaned toward killing women. Do I think he did? Yeah someone had to have seen something at one point and Alastor isn’t one for lose ends. (I’m sorry guys you’re gonna see a lot of me info dumping, serial killers psyche and the types are a special interest of mine)
They meet when they were kids, him just running around New Orleans learning the streets and how to use the alleys to make a quick getaway. It had helped him more then on one occasion growing up in that day and age, more so when people knew of his parentage. Not that he was ashamed but rather no one Likes Pain much less children, and unfortunately other children will do as they see their parents do. Rosalind had been reading on the steps on the library when he had ran into her. It wasn’t any kind of meet cute considering they got into a argument about who’s fault it was, kids am I right?
They kiddos had decided that they both were ultimately at fault, him for running when Mama said not to rush and Rose for sitting on the steps where people walk. They’d shook on it and had spent the day talking about some radio stories, Alastor eventually telling her about his dream of being a host himself.
They meet up regularly and talked about the many things kids find important. Until Rosalind’s Pa died and her mother had to move them back up north. The saddest part was it all happened so rapidly, Rosalind hadn’t had time to find Alastor to tell him. Her mother kept Rosalind close to her through out the process of the funeral and the move, having heard of the company her daughters been keeping but also to grieve with her daughter.
Thus she moved away and Alastor slowly forgot the face of his friend. He remembers having a dear childhood friend but figured they, like everyone else heard of his heritage and left him.
Meanwhile up north Rosalind was dreaming of going back to the south. She thanked her lucky stars her fathers family lived down in Louisiana still, she sent letters often down to her cousins asking about life and how is dear New Orleans changing?
When she was 18 Rosalind decided to make the choice to move down south. Her mother had gotten a urgent letter from her aunt raving about how her cousins were living in sin and needed a good girl like Rosalind to guide them. Of course this was only partly the case, their cousins mother had actually passed in the fall and one them impersonated her as to fool Rosalind's mother.
They made this plan as to get Rosalind out from her mothers thumb, wanting her to stay close and up north together. It was not that Rosalind didn't love her mother she just didn't want to be smothered by her anymore.
Now for the second and remembered meeting!!
Once secure in the South her cousins had decided to celebrate! What better way to celebrate gaining independence in the 20's then going to Mimzy's club! Bonus her cousins worked there as showgirls(have to make money somehow...) so they were familiar with the atmosphere.
It had been fun, they drank and danced some. It was only when her cousins had been swept onto the dance floor by two different gentlemen that Rosalind finally felt conflicted. Truth be told she had been having mixed feelings all night, but now alone with the gazing of hungry men feasting on her flesh.
Heading to the bar she ordered herself a drink, trying to call the bartenders attention. It was when a smooth voice called above her head that the bartender finally looked over.
"John my good man! My usual drink for me, and one for the lady as well."
Now at this time Al has been establishing himself in his career for a while, I imagine at this time he had actually just scored his first segment. It was some news on event in town and weather reports, he still has a small way to go till he can report on what he really wants. The Local Crime segments, the man who does it now Tyler put people to sleep the way he drones.
He had come to Mimzy's tonight to stalk his next hunt. His radio career wasn't the only one he had been curating and growing with time. He started his murder career with a truly vile man, his father. No one thought much of the hunting accident, his father was a drunk and many had the opinion it had been bound to happen. Filled eith righteous fury, he went after only villainous people. Muggers, rapists, a fellow murderer, and well an unfortunate witness.
Alastor had been eyeing this particular prey for a while, a rapist who preyed on woman. Alastor had watched his prey pick out his own prey for the evening, watched him circle like a vulture. He took notice of the woman, a soft smile on her face but discomfort colored her brows. It stirred something in him, a flash of his mothers face making his grin feel strained.
Alastor doesn't know why and could only put it to words after when he was in Hell. He interrupted his preys hunt to intercept the woman, buying her a drink. The conversation was stimulating, and having her not fawn over him was a nice change. Despite his small role in the station his popularity grows by the day. What can he say, he has a voice made for radio!
They hit it off from there, him quietly offing his prey another night. No need for vermin like him to linger around. After all Ms. Rosalind frequently met him at Mimzy's so there no reason not to keep the place...tidy so to speak.
Rosalind felt like she was in a fairytale, not only was she able to get a job as a poster painter(lots of prints were handmade back then!) but Alastor, a radio host with a career on the rise, seemed to fancy her.
She didn't realize who Alastor was until they'd gotten married, saw a picture of him and his mom he kept in the back of a bible. She also realized he didn't remember her, it made her a little sad but she remembered the bruises he would show up with and forgave him in her heart.
Speaking of, they were only together for like a month before getting married. And the proposal was at his house! He made dinner and lit candles, and made sure to be his most charming.
Rosalind could only say yes to her dear sweet Al. The thing that had gotten people talking is that she hadn't gone home that night. Alastor was never huge on touch but always seemed to gravitate towards her space. That night they'd cuddled on the couch, exchanging small kisses until they'd fallen asleep.
It’s had started the rumor mill but what made it a full function factory was how the wedding ended up being a month later. So many older ladies comforted her saying ‘first babies are always late’, Alastor had gotten a good laugh out of her flushed face after. She had scolded him but couldn't put any heat behind it, weak as she was to his smile.
They never were physical together, it just wasn't something either of them wanted. They didn't desire each other for the body itself, but for the company and conversation. It was a lovely union, Alastor being attentive to her labors praising her work in the house and garden.
Speaking of her garden, since I see the house being his parents before his own. The garden was originally his mothers. It had fallen into deep disrepair since she had passed, as he had no talent for gardening. With his little wife however it had returned to its old splendor.
Where he didn't have a talent for the green, he did take well to his fathers old hunting lessons. Something he found himself indulging in as a married man. Fresh vegetables and herbs along side some fresh venison, made for a wonderfully fresh meal you couldn't find anywhere else. Who knew all it took was one these hunts for him to disappear from her life forever?
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accio-victuuri · 16 hours
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April CPNs round-up! ❤️💛💚
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• BJYX shows up in station sisters team building photos/videos. proving that the pairing is still very much relevant and loved 🫶🏼
• allegedly spending some time together 4/2 and 4/3 when yibo went to shanghai
• cql and xz gets mentioned in a livestream for WoF
• wyb with a beaded bracelet that seems to be a clue that he spent time with GG ; more on the initial thoughts about the bracelet and why give an obsidian one
•zsww fake rumor of their meet up
•their love for watching old cctv spring festival gala sketches
• 4/8, in the FPU douyin update, he continues on with the dog theme ☺️ he really is a puppy! gouzaizai!
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• not really a cpn/candy but their name side by side for the alleged registration list for Magnolia Award. i’m just so proud and as a cpf, it feels good seeing them succeed. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼
• 4/8 cpns : fan used for camping that xz uses, the number 38 and us clowning about concerts
• some are comparing this interaction between wyb and hjy in FPU bts with how he is with GG. saying when he is hurt, he goes all out and shows it to GG but with others he won’t say anything. i agree that this thing is true both for GG/WYB, meaning they only show “weakness” to each other 🥺🥺🥺
* throwback post : fake rumor story during cql shoot of someone that works closely with yibo
• this side by side photo, they look alike in this profile!
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• 4/16/24 zsww rumor
• the rumor that wyb visited LOZ shoot and my thoughts on it ; i know i cannot stop people from “enjoying” this material and what it potentially implies but i personally cannot condone the type of behavior that disrespects them. especially xz who has been v frustrated with the leaks happening in his project. and just to dispel the rumors, this is who people are saying is supposedly yibo ⬇️⬇️⬇️
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🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️
no shade to this guy. he was just a victim of people’s overzealous tendencies. this is not the first time cpfs have done this, in OOL and OnO we’ve had questionable video evidences too which is most likely not who we think it is. please stop. it’s not just the leaks. we have to protect them. we know they visit each other, let’s just bridge the clues with what they give us. we cpn that they visit the ST or probably even follow certain cpf accounts, there is just no universe that they will see this kind of conversations related to leaked photos and videos and be happy about it.
• DESCENDANTS OF THE SUN AU 😭😭😭😭 idk man. military/police wyb and doctor xz pairing is really top notch!
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• 4/19 xiao zhan weibo post for the 6th solar term - Guyu ( Grain Rain ) and all the clowning: one / two
• 4/20 zsww rumor ; hinting at them working on a project where one will direct and the other will act
• WYB’s GQ hat could be a custom made one from Tod’s????
• A new explanation about the mystery driver and comparing it to the mask WYB uses
• There has been some conversation because of WYB’s bazaar shoot with his FPU co star/team and that it’s no longer just XZ that he has done that with. Well i have to say that no matter what people say, the bazaar one with XZ is different. just the production value and theme of it — was more romantic and WYB was totally expressive. plus don’t forget that the shoot for that was where xz called him Venus. it will always be special, cause it’s just the 2 of them. there is no use comparing, i bet you, xz will have a joint cover or spread for LOCH with the female lead. it is part of marketing.
• yibo and his rainbow necklace 🌈
• I will add this here cause i don’t think it needs a separate post with how galaxy brain it is. it’s about certain photos uploaded by YBO being 2.3 MB in size. 23 love zhan. whether this is intentional or something special. who knows. it just came up again this month because the bear photo is with the same file size. 🤷🏻‍♀️
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other instances are outlined by this account on weibo :
February 3, 2:30 pm (Picture 1) // May 11 (Picture 3) // June 1st, Children’s Day, “Children are in love” (Picture 5) // August 5th, birthday composition (Picture 7)// November 22 (Picture 9)
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• 4/29 zsww fake rumor
• GUCCI wall 2.0 is close to Lacoste big screen ad! oh the possibilities!
• 4/29 candies to enjoy ( includes: their promos not overlapping, jiayou parallel, double standards and the bead bracelet discussion again )
See you all next month! ✌🏼💛
<<< previous month
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THE CHASE - PART 5 | Hangman x Reader
Hey, Hi, Hello! I'm not back full time, but I did have some down time when my little one napped and finally finished this part. Am I super happy with how it turned out, not really, BUT It's still cute and fluffy and we get to see more of Jake with heart eyes. Thank you again for all your patience and support!
2336 words! No Warnings
Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Bartender!Reader
Without further adieu
--
Jake took his seat across from you in the warmly lit restaurant as you took in your surroundings. When the waiter handed you the menu you opened it and surveyed the offerings, and of course the price. Once the waiter had disappeared you quickly shut the menu and looked at Jake, eyes wide. “Jake, this is ridiculously expensive, we don’t have to eat here” your voice was near a whisper. He simply chuckled “you said you wanted to be wined and dined, for a first date, this is the best you can get” He seemed completely unphased and you balked at him. Jake looks up from his menu and gives you a smile, a real fond, cheek dimpling smile full of pearly white teeth. You're so distracted by the smile and the feeling it gives you that you nearly miss him reaching his hand across the table to grasp yours, his calloused thumb rubbing the top lightly “first off, Uncle Sam pays me just fine to be able to afford this - granted, not every night, I prefer home cooking anyways, but on a special occasion, or a first date, especially with you, this is pennies, Darlin’.” 
The flutter you felt at his words and at the gentle look he was giving you was unnerving, but not unwelcome. The all familiar nickname he had for you sounded different tonight, in the way he said it. In that time, he had returned his attention to the menu - but the smile had not faltered from his face. You realized you weren’t going to win and so you regarded the menu again, before selecting a lower priced main course option in your head. That is, until Jake looked at you and suggested ordering an appetizer platter that included a few options of everything. When you didn’t oppose, He smiled at you “what are you thinking about for dinner?” you shrugged nonchalantly, and told him your option, the salmon sounded good and was not as highly priced as the rest of the menu items. “I was thinking about the Ribeye to be honest, now nothing really beats Texas BBQ but I’ll give it a shot.” He flipped the menu page and looked at the drinks, while you peeked at the price of his entree selection, that’s when you decided to revise the selection of your main course to something a little higher to match. You did say wine and dine after all.
When the waiter came back, Jake offered for you to order first, when the waiter asked about drinks to get started, he straightened up slightly “Did you see any bottle of wine you wanted?” immediately you shook your head “you pick, they all look so nice.” Jake wore a small smirk “fine” He showed the waiter his selection on the menu, to which he nodded, took the menus and disappeared. You shook your head at Jake, a small smile playing on your face “you ordered one of the more expensive ones didn’t you?” his grin widened and shook his head “not telling, you’ll just have to enjoy it.” a small laugh bubbled out of your lips “you continue to surprise me.” 
The waiter returned once more with the wine bottle, presented it to you and offered you a taste before serving, to which you accepted. He poured a small amount in your glass and you swirled it, before sipping it. The red wine Jake had chosen was full bodied, warm and had notes of spices dancing across your tastebuds, it would go lovely with the menu options you had both selected. When you nodded your approval, the waiter topped up your glass before serving Jake and leaving the bottle on the table, and returning to the kitchen, presumably to retrieve your appetizers.
You lifted your glass, holding it up “cheers” Jake smiled at you and tipped his glass to clink with yours “cheers to the first date”. You could barely hide the smile that graced your face as you brought the glass to your lips and took a sip, reveling in the fact you were truly on a date with Jake Seresin, the man of your desires and of your nighttime fantasies for the past 3 months, and even though there was still that little voice in your head screaming at you that you were just going to get hurt, you couldn’t help but let yourself feel excited. “So” Jake recalled your attention to him, green eyes sparkling with a little mischief. “I’m really curious to know, why do you usually only call me by my call sign and everyone else by their names?”
Jake had been dying to know the answer to this question since he met you. It was only in the last 7 days that you had called him by his first name and he folded his hands in front of him on the table, watching you digest his question and take another sip of wine before setting the glass down “it’s a little embarrassing…” he shrugged slightly “would you tell me anyways? Or is it a second date kind of question?” you laughed and took another sip of wine, hoping it would increase your courage to tell him the truth “I was hoping it could wait until dessert at least.” Jake just waited patiently while you seemed to prepare yourself to tell him your answer.
“I’ve only ever heard what all the other girls and bartenders have said about you at the Hard Deck” you watched a scowl breach his lips but he stayed silent and you continued “and I thought, that if I kept the persona of Hangman in my head, I wouldn’t let myself get attached and fall for you…” you sighed and avoided his gaze, which you could feel boring into you “that  didn’t work. I’ve played hard to get because I liked you a lot and I was - I am, worried about getting hurt.” 
Jake considered your words, it’s true that he had a very flyboy persona, where he used to leave with whatever badge bunny would strike his fancy that night. He always made it clear that there were no strings attached, hookup only, until he met you anyways. Before you, some of the girls had gotten their hopes up, feeling as if they were entitled to more than just sex with him, which is presumably what you had heard from previous bartenders. He had a type apparently, which caused Penny to lose more than one decent extra hand and though she had a soft spot for the Dagger Squad, him included, the Hard Deck came first to her. 
Jake met your eyes, sincerity echoed in them, “I know I’ve got a bit of a reputation, but I’m here to prove to you that I’ve changed.” You had been open and candid with him, and it was his turn to return the sentiment. “Did I hope to get you to come home with me the first night I met you, yes absolutely I did, but when you didn’t even give me the time of day, I was awestruck. You have time and time again proved that you don’t need any man to make things happen and I’ve grown to respect that, and frankly, the way you put me in my place most of the time is a huge turn on.” You blushed as his praise washed over you, surprised that he would be this honest with you. When you didn’t reply, he continued “Darlin’ I’ve been spending the last three months trying to get your attention in any way you’ll give it to me, because I can’t get you out of my head. When you finally agreed to this date, I knew I had one chance to not fuck this up royally because you’re that kind of girl.” Jake cut his speech a little short, afraid to admit that you were the girl. The one he would be proud to bring home to his mama and friends in Texas, the one he could see with his Nan’s ring on her finger and a matching gold band on his own. The one he wanted to come home to every day, and pick him up at the end of deployments. He felt like he was in one of those hallmark Christmas love story movies that he used to watch with his Nan, at the part where the guy realizes that the girl he loved the entire time is right in front of him but he’s been denying it because he was scared. Hell, the only thing Jake was scared of right now is you telling him you wanted to be just friends. 
You sat across from him, listening to him pour some of his heart out before the main course even arrived and once he was finished you just smiled “youre right, you do only have one chance to not royally fuck this up.” You paused for a sip of your wine. “But you’re doing a pretty good job so far”You do have one chance to not fuck this up royally…” You paused, mostly for dramatic effect but also to sip your wine and then continued “but you’re doing a pretty good job so far.” You watched as Jake let out a breath he had apparently been holding and gave him a small smile, which he returned tenfold, and the waiter brought over your main courses.
“I was mortified!” You laughed with Jake, sharing a piece of chocolate cake as dessert as he recounted the story of how he threw Maverick out of the bar and found out that it was his CO the following day. Dinner had been fantastic and full of great conversation between the two of you, you’d learned more about his family and he learned more about you. Now, as you shared a decadent dessert, you knew that trying not to fall for him would be impossible, because you’d already fallen so hard, and so fast. “Thank you, this was really nice.” You took one more lick of the sweet chocolate cake off your spoon as he waved the waiter over for the check and filled out his information while tucking the credit card into the pocket and handing it back. “You don’t have to thank me, just… let me take you out again, and be the only guy that can take you out, I don’t feel like fighting with Rooster for your attention.” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as he tucked his card back into his wallet “I have to give Rooster attention when he’s ordering drinks from me.” Jake wrinkled his nose “nah, just tell him to order them from Jimmy.” you smiled again and took his arm as he stood and offered it to you “Let me take you home, and hope to god that I can get a kiss goodnight on your front porch” You rested your head on his shoulder, keeping the soft smile on your lips. You were definitely giving him a goodnight kiss on your front porch.
He opened the door and helped you into the truck, just like he had when he picked you up, and when he climbed in on his side you reached across the console to hold his hand. He looked at your joined hands surprised but then smiled at you as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it softly, before turning the engine and starting the drive back to your place.
On the drive back, the cab of the truck was filled with your combined laughter as you both sang along to the radio - albeit badly. Jake held your hand the entire way home and you let him, as you were thinking about where you really wanted this to go. You thought about the nights coming home alone from the bar, and how many times you saw him leave with other women, how much it gutted you, and how you wished he didn’t give you the butterflies that he did. However now that his attention was all on you, things were different. As the truck slowed in front of your house, the air in the cab prickled with electricity. You looked over at Jake as he turned off the truck’s engine and his eyes met yours. Then he opened his door and made his way around to your side, opening the door and holding out his hand for you. Taking his hand he helped you out of the truck, and walked you up to the door.
“Well, I hope tonight exceeded your expectations of me” He shot you a cheeky smirk, but you could tell it was in earnest, and that he was nervous. You nodded and leaned back against your door, your hands folded behind you to hide the fact that your fingers were twitching to run through his hair and down his button up, a smile playing on your lips. “We should do it again sometime…” His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he nodded “yeah, I’d love to take you out again.” You looked up at him, admiring the straightness of his jaw, the perfect cupid’s bow of his lips, his eyebrows furrowed in thought or concentration, you weren’t sure, and the subsequent lines that were drawn across his forehead. You reached out with your fingers to lightly smooth those worry lines away as you took a small step closer to him and whispered “Are you going to kiss me goodnight?” He seemed to visibly relax under your touch as he slipped one hand to your waist, the other cupping your jaw and making you draw in a slight sharp breath. You felt so dainty in his hands, his fingertips brushing against the small hairs at the back of your neck as he held your jaw. Jake’s eyes searched your face for any sign of protest before leaning down and slanting his lips across yours and kissing you for the very first time.
--
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chaoticbardlady99 · 2 days
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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!
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 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
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tac-the-unseen · 2 days
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I love all ur blog sm!! Can I ask abt something with the slashers (specially Thomas <3) with an foreigner!reader that don't quit speak english very well and normally forget words?
(Sorry if something is spelled wrong, English is not my native language lmao)
Absolutely, I can!
And because the request didn't specify, this fic will strictly be about speaking a foreign language.
Sorry if this is inaccurate! I'm a native English speaker and don't know many who aren't. Sorry in advance!!
Slashers x Foreigner!Reader
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Micheal Myers:
•This man will act like he doesn't care but in reality he's so intrigued. (It might be why you're still alive) 
•He’ll spend his time watching you practice your pronunciation and recognition patterns, like it's a movie.
•Is he a bit mean about it? Yes. Will he laugh? Probably.
•If you find yourself not knowing what certain words are and stumble around until you find the right word, You'd be surprised at how patient he is. 
•If you are very new to the English language he'll secretly get you flash cards and stash them into a place he knows you'll find them
•Despite everything, if you ask him for help, he will help. He might be mute but he can write and use TV to aid you.
Billy loomis & Stu macher:
•Stu is already romanticizing your language, but instead of using the actual name of your language, he calls it “Talking pretty to me”
•Billy asks if you want any text books or study equipment to help you on your English speaking journey 
•Both boys are a surprising help! Stuttering trying to articulate what you mean? They've already jumped in to, A) help save you some of the embarrassment, and B) give you time to think about what you're trying to say. 
•Someone making fun of you? They're either dead or a social outcast by the end of the week. 
•Are you struggling to remember a certain word? These boys are willing play charades until you figure it out. And they won't drop it either, Stu says ‘It’s bad to give up when you've already come so far.’ 
•Over all it's not so bad (Stu 100,000,000% uses Google translate to figure out how to say ‘i love you’ in your native language) 
Thomas Hewitt:
•When both of you met, he had never met an actual foreigner before.
•He knew people travel around and occasionally some valley girl would end up in their small town, But someone from a whole different part of the world?
•His interest in you spiked the moment he heard your accent 
•Thomas has so many questions but doesn't know how to ask you
•With him being mute and your struggles with English, It's not the easiest relationship. In the end both of you just end up pointing at things and making noises to get your point across. 
•Absolutely loves to listen to you speak in your native language, Even if he'll never understand it. 
•When he's first trying to court you, he leaves you slightly damaged flowers (he struggled to pick them) to communicate his affection. 
•even with a language barrier, he's gonna love you like no one ever could 
Bubba Sawyer:
•He had no idea people outside of America existed 
•When You fell into the palm of Texas and his brothers found you failing to remember the word for your favorite snack, They knew you would be an easy target.
•When they kidnapped you and brought you to the basement so Bubba could chop you up, he was fascinated by the way you desperately tried to beg him not to kill you. 
•It ended in a huge fight in the family, But he got everyone to let you live a bit longer.
•Sits Criss Cross applesauce while you speak for your life. You could babble about anything and he would listen intently. 
•He pulls out his alphabet soup machine and spends hours typing with you. (You help him finally get past the clown level)
Bo Sinclair:
•absolute meanie, stinky poopy head about it >:(
•will mock your stutters and say stuff like “Oh come ON! The word is Cat! C. A. T. CAT! What's so hard about that?” 
•If you speak your native language around him, He thinks you're insulting him or intentionally hiding something. 
•”If you could say it to my face in your language you can say it to my face again in mine!”
•The same sentiment is not shared when it involves bedroom fun
•Will eventually apologize, But that's going to take a while 
Vincent Sinclair:
•As another non-speaking fellow he takes his time to make sure you two can understand each other 
•He’ll mostly use body language and and little doodles to get his point across 
•Stuttering over a word? He doesn't care, he'll let you work it out without any judgment!
•Want his help? He has several books, Vincent will just pull out a book he knows as the word in it, flipped to the page, and point at the word. 
•Love listening to you talk, In English or not. He'll happily let you yap his ear off. 
Lester Sinclair:
•Poor boy was lovestruck when he first heard you talk!
•Full on heart eyes while you explain where you're from and how you ended up here 
•If you end up fumbling on a word he'll start shouting out potential words for what you're trying to say. 
•Example: “and then I had too…uh…um..” “Run? Pee? Eat? Were you hungry? Are you hungry right now?” 
•So helpful, I know
•But the guy is already googling restaurants based off your native cuisine. He's got the date set up. 
•”It's no biggie, I'm a native English speaker and I still can't get it right!” 
Billy Lenz:
•Billy 100% understands the struggle of finding the right word to say 
•He can't stop stuttering himself, so when you start stuttering you kind of reinforce us in his brain that you were meant to be together 
•He feels like he can bond with you over it, and even feel safer around you knowing that you also mess up 
•the thing is if you start stuttering, he'll start stuttering. If you can't get it by God he will.
•”W-we can't bo-oth be wrong.” 
Brahms Heelshire:
•this man will 100% try to learn your language as soon as he finds out you're a foreigner
•That man has a huge library, there's bound to be at least one book written in your mother tongue 
•He spends a lot of time practicing your native language so he can speak to you more comfortably
•You already know he has children's learning books he'll pull out if you ask. 
•Can't find the word you're looking for? He's already 10 books deep, he'll find it for you. 
•Brahms is a well-educated man and he intends to use His years of learning to help 
•If you want to take classes to better your English skills he will 100,000% throw money your way to do so.
Hannibal Lecter:
•Now Hannibal really understands 
•He's a Lithuanian who learned English as a 10 year old
•He didn't struggle as much, But for the first couple of months you bet he was stumbling. 
•If you're struggling with a word, He has a process of teaching you so you don't forget it again. 
1) Identify what you're trying to say 
2)Slowly begin to sound out the word 
3)Have you recite the word a few times 
4)He'll either teaches you a little tune to remember or he'll do something so you remember the moment 
•Does it feel a little condescending? Yes. But it works 
•He's also willing to pour an ungodly amount of money into your English education if you ask 
•He'll even teach you himself in his spare time
Will Graham:
•Doesn't really know what to do, He's a bit awkward about it 
•He'll also identify the word and repeat it a few times so you can get a better handle on it.
•He thinks it's a bit funny and a bit cute when you stutter or mispronounce something 
•He will gently correct you and move on like nothing happened 
The Lost Boys:
•holy fucking shit this is a cluster fuck, let's do this one by one 
•David
-David, having been around a while, has picked up a couple languages.
-If he does know the language you're speaking he'll speak it back to you and guide you into English better than the other boys could 
-If not, he'll just read your mind and tell you what you're trying to say. It's by far the easiest way to articulate what you mean. 
•Dwayne
-Dwayne being just slightly younger than David has also picked up a couple languages 
-It's really the same if he does know your language But with a little more verbal teaching 
-If he doesn't he'll patiently wait until you figure out what you're trying to say. 
•Paul
-as soon as you start to stutter over yourself Paul starts shotgunning words off 
-some slightly related to the situation and others wildly out there 
-”Drink? Food? Ocean? Horse? The unforgiving eyes of God and His kingdom???” 
-he'll do this to confuse you and have a nice laugh 
•Marko
-Marko speaks English and Italian, so if your language isn't one of those two you're kind of shit out of luck 
-”Come on babe, you'll get it” 
-He finds it a bit funny but still tries to help in little ways 
Thanks for reading <3
Sorry if this seems hastily written together, I haven't had the request in a while so I kind of jumped at the opportunity.
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archonfurina · 2 days
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why do you ship neuvifuri? /g this ship is just lost on me because i didn’t read any of their interactions as romantic — i just wanna understand why it’s such a popular ship 😭😭😭
Hii okay so I don't usually like 'defending' my otp but because you seem to genuinely want to know I'll answer. But I'm also curious if you ship anyone in Fontaine because none of them had any romantic interactions. Least of all Neuvillette. But anyway, the following are my own opinions and I can't say if everyone else sees them the same way.
I put off doing Fontaine questline for months, because I had lost interest in Genshin so I missed all fandom reactions etc, I don't know how popular whatever ships are. When I finally played it, I was neutral about things until the final archon quest. When that Focalors cutscene happened with Neuvillette, my eyes kinda opened. I shipped them first before Neuvifuri. His openly shocked/upset/devastated reactions to her were something new, since he hardly emoted before and we hadn't really seen his feelings. And the way he talked about Furina to Focalors, with so much concern and care for her because she's only human with such a huge burden. So then I went on my other account and replayed the whole questline to record it for gifs, because I'd fallen in love with Furina and her story.
They ruled Fontaine together for 400 years. Furina called Neuvillette to serve as the Iudex (though it was Focalors' idea), and Furina taught him to love humanity and open himself up to people. He's like her familiar the way Dvalin is Venti's and Yae Miko is Ei's. Whether it's platonic or romantic, they're each other's most important person and they love and care for each other. In the AQ, Neuvillette becomes increasingly frustrated with Furina because she isn't letting him in and is being secretive. Yet he keeps closing his eyes (literally, in some cases) to Furina's pain, like he's done for hundreds of years.
Neuvillette is enchanted by Furina's performances on stage, and wanted her to return there in Furina's story quest, and said his appreciation of her was always genuine and he wishes she knew that. Even in his voice line about her he says if she were to return to the stage, he would attend the performance and give her his heartfelt applause.
He gave her a special vision, possibly the first vision since he gained his full powers. If you look closer, it has dragon claws on it.
In the AQ, Furina fooling the heavenly principles wouldn't have worked without Neuvillette. He forgave the people of Fontaine and together they prevented the prophecy. Even though it was all Focalor's plan, and Furina did the hardest part, if Furina hadn't made Neuvillette care for the people it wouldn't have worked.
Immediately after the AQ when Furina had to leave Palais Mermonia, he got her a new apartment, and he said he will provide her with food, clothing, travel, whatever she wants. Meanwhile Furina's voice lines say it's been a while since she went to the Palais and that she thinks it's better for the both of them. Ouch. She's even avoiding him in Liyue.
There's insane angst and potential for a tragic ship. Furina lied to him for centuries, and now thinks it's better if they don't meet. She was incredibly lonely yet she couldn't confide in him, her closest friend. She's now mortal as well, whereas Neuvillette is a dragon. So she can actually get hurt, and die.
Plus they're beautiful together. They have matching color schemes, height difference, they have amazing synergy in combat. Their in-game abilities complement each other. Like they were made for each other.
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locoier · 6 months
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i love qsmp because it forces me to like. actually work on my language skills. like so often i find myself watching content in portuguese with spanish translations. so im watching content in the language im trying to learn with subtitles in my second language and i know that my brain is actually working and learning yippie
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lambjock · 5 months
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genuinely hope natalie keeps jackie's necklace in s3 -- that she fiddles with it and stares at it, a little crooked heart on a golden string, and thinks about jackie taylor and how never in a million years would she have given this gift to nat, and yet it now belongs to her anyways. the good luck charm. the blessing of protection. an undying promise of a love natalie has struggled to know her whole life ( i would never hurt you on purpose / you're my best friend and i'd do anything for you ) and most importantly it's something that replaced the cold steel of a knife against her neck in the form of their soccer captain's delicate heart. it's hers, hers, hers, and when her head is weighed with antlers the only warmth she feels is from a metallic shape that's long since indented itself against her sunken, bony skin. a love she'll pass down to prey she'll always feel sorry for but a love that'll return to her all the same. and maybe in a kinder life it was something nat rightfully earned rather than the premature consolation it really was. and maybe in that other world the necklace comes from a well maintained, plushy hand : dangled into nat's ring-clustered fingers with a smile. and instead of pitiful sorry i love you's, it's a sickly fond look, one that's just for her.
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gallifriendly · 2 years
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i’m sure someone else must have made a more coherent post on this but... sometimes i think of:
donna’s  “Don't make me go back. Doctor, please, please don't make me go back.” but 10 wiping her mind and sending her back to the existence that she hated
vs
clara’s “These have been the best years of my life, and they are mine. Tomorrow is promised to no one, Doctor, but I insist upon my past. I am entitled to that. It's mine.” and the doctor realizing that what he was going to do is wrong, and then clara going free while the doctor forgets her
both donna and clara are people who don’t back down easily and they don’t hesitate to call the doctor out on things when they think he’s wrong. i think  donna and clara are the only two new who companions who the doctor looks straight in the eye and treats as an equal. and both end up in a situation where the doctor decides that wiping their minds is the only way to save them. but in the end the outcomes are so wildly different, like clara’s ending is a response to donna’s one. idk i think it’s nice.
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beatle-capaldi · 1 year
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i’ve been thinking about the transfem! abbacchio headcanon and while i do not think it necessary to have in-source backup for a headcanon, i think the narrative reading of abbacchio as transfeminine could flesh out the character further
i think the reading of abbacchio particularly as transfeminine and nonbinary is interesting if you look at societal institutions that they upheld as a cop as allegorical for masculinity itself, so when she eventually cannot measure up to those impossible standards and can no longer put up a front about it, the realization she is made to face means they have to come to terms with existing outside of that system. by existing outside of said systems/institutions, though also existing within a marginal, liminal space, she presents herself more femininely and also more honestly - no longer forcing herself into a mold of what is expected of them by others or themself, almost an antithesis to how she presented before.
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also cracked egg . symbolism
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theygender · 2 years
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Mine and my girlfriend's special interests are so funny to me bc I'm just like "hi I'm autistic and my special interest is dinosaurs uwu" and then you ask what her special interests are and it's like
The wreck of the Titanic
The Russian Revolution
The assassination of JFK
Unsolved murder cases from the 1800s
Stage magic
#my special interest is way more than just dinosaurs im oversimplifying ahdjska#dinosaurs are actually one of the least interesting parts of deep time to me#but theyre easier for me to talk about bc its the part everyone is already familiar with#my FAVORITE part of deep time is the animals that came before the dinosaurs#ESPECIALLY all the funky little dudes in the cambrian period#but also the beginning of life itself and all the animals that preceded and evolved into the classifications we know today#(the first vertebrates! the first land animals! the ancestors to amphibians and reptiles and mammals and dinosaurs!)#and also the things that came after them? like megafauna are really cool#and i love learning about the evolution of human ancestors too#and maybe even a bit of archaeology instead of paleontology if im feeling spicy (which would be humans less than 10000 years ago)#and theres other cool fields too like paleogeography?? like the study of ancient supercontinents and how they formed??#anyways im rambling. my point is that i think its funny that i have a somewhat stereotypical special interest with facets that all connect#while she has a lot of seemingly more random ones#a while back i picked up my qpp while i had some of trixies books in my car that she had asked me to return to the library#and as i moved the 6-7 books about the russian revolution out of my passenger seat i was just like#well. you probably can tell which special interest trixie is hyperfixating on right now 😂#other times she'll check out a bunch of jfk books or titanic books or magic books at once and go through them like crazy#and shes done a lot of personal research into different unsolved murder cases from the 1800s. even wanted to write a book at one point#i know im poking fun here but my gf is one of the coolest people in the world and has really cool special interests#it is my honor and privilege to listen to a goth girl infodump about historical murders and tragic accidents and magic o7#rambling
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mrs-kelly · 1 year
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hands shaking like you guys know I love Charlie right. you know he's my whole world and i love him so dearly right. that literally every time i see him my day is brightened even if ive been looking at him all day. you know that right ajfklds
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monty-glasses-roxy · 9 months
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If I wasn't so tired, I'd be going insane drawing Roxy and DJ being queer together in either that paint board thingo or in Firealpacca my head has been FLOODED okay I love them
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unluckystreak · 2 years
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Most of me loves full moon wo sagashite bc if nostalgia but some of me is like "oof that didn't age well."
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shiba-boyfriend · 1 year
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after putting it off for two months, i finally watched the defunctland disney channel theme documentary and i get it now. i really get why this was so hyped up. absolutely blown away, bawled my eyes out about it, it hits you so much harder than expected... aughhhhhhhh
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