#What was going to happen at dinner?

[siegelst]

Anyone else wondering what the present Louis & armand had for Daniel? They seem to be really want to go to dinner when they both had a blood snack.

[egophiliac]

queen of diamonds, upright + reversed 💎

I've redone this like eighty times, I have to just be done with it now and stop staring at all my mistakes oh no 🫠

[starmocha]

I have no friends that play lads and after the trailer with Caleb my mind is in ruins and all i can think is arranged marriage between Colonel Caleb and his general's daughter. Ughh the tension and the dramaaaaa.

Thats it, thats all i had to say, thank you for coming to my ted talk (i really needed to yap about that to someone) 😂😂😂😂😂

🥹 Anon~ come back. Let's chat some more. I'll entertain all of your Caleb brainrots 🫶 You should also know that I saw this message this afternoon while I was out shopping.......the high-pitched gasp I had let out in public, because why is this right up my alley 😭😭😭 Ok I originally thought out like the whole situation in bullet points, but writing this one scene gotten out of control, because why did I get so into it, so I guess...consider this a snippet of sorts (it's kind of messy, but I was rushing)? 🫣 (or should I polish this up and repost it as an actual fic? I'm really digging this premise, if I'm honest 🤔)

You didn't have a say.

You didn't agree to this marriage. The General—your father, you remind yourself, often feeling emotionally estranged from the man who has never once raised you, viewing you as secondary to his military career—has arranged for you to wed his colonel.

Colonel Caleb. He is young, ambitious, and with a bright future ahead of him. He will rise through the ranks quickly, many believe. No one is surprised that the young man is betrothed to the general's daughter. It seems only right that such an esteemed union should happen, bringing two honorable families together.

You didn't have a say.

The General—your father, you correct yourself again, your nerves getting the best of you—is walking you down the aisle, his arm looped around yours—tightly. The organ is playing the Wedding March. Why does it sound like a dirge?

All eyes are on you, the blushing bride in her beautiful pristine white, lacy long-sleeved demure wedding gown. You didn’t choose this. You didn’t want to wear this dress. You didn’t want to wear this style. This isn’t you.

You didn't have a say.

The guests are all part of the military. You don't know these people. They're the General's—Father's—acquaintances. His peers, his colleagues. Subordinates and superiors. They are all acquaintances of his. Who are these strangers?

"Don't mess this up," he whispers under his breath as you approach your waiting groom, dressed in his most formal uniform for this nuptial. This is his only fatherly advice as he gives his one daughter's hand away—to a man she doesn't even know.

You don't have a say.

The ceremony proceeds without a hitch. You didn't look at your groom, or rather, you barely registered the man in front of you. You had moved through the motion, did everything you were supposed to, just like in the pre-rehersal ceremony, but you weren't there. It was like your mind had slipped away, and your body was just moving along on autopilot.

"You may kiss the bride," the priest declares.

Your mind returns, and you still when he kisses you. There is cheering and applause. You aren't happy. Is he happy?

You close your eyes, just letting this happen. It will be over soon. Just let it happen.

You don't have a say.

His arm loops through yours, leading you back down the aisle. There is more cheering and applause, and as you leave the church, the sun shines brightly on your marriage, and flower petals are tossed in the air, raining down over you and your groom.

There is so much joy and congratulations. Why then does it feel like the end of the world?

You don't respond, your face unwittingly tucking away into his arm as he leads you away for the wedding reception.

You don't even remember the reception. Did it even happen? Did you eat? Danced? Were there speeches or well-wishes? What did the wedding cake taste like?

You don't remember.

It was mid-afternoon when you had left the church, but now suddenly nightfall came without warning. How did that happen?

You exit a car, your hand in his.

This is a hotel. Right. A hotel.

It's your wedding night. A marriage is consummated on the wedding night. That is how it typically goes.

You have to consummate your marriage. You have to...sleep with your newly-wedded husband. Your husband. Caleb.

You didn't want to consummate this marriage. You didn't even want to get married. But you couldn't say no. You couldn't say no to any of this, and now, you know you also couldn't say no to him.

You don't have a say.

His hand is so much bigger than yours, you notice, as he holds yours, silently guiding you to your honeymoon suite.

Every step, every action, brings you closer to that moment. You barely register anything, not even hearing the beep when Caleb swipes the key card on the digital lock of the suite.

You're led into an extravagant suite. There is a vase of red roses and champagne chilling in an ice bucket, all courtesy of the hotel.

Still, you don't feel like you are in the moment, being completely lost in your head. You have to sleep with him. You didn’t want to marry him. You don't want to be married. You don't want to sleep with him. You don't want him.

You don't have a say.

He pours you a glass of champagne. You drink it, hoping it will calm your nerves. It doesn't. You feel like you are slipping, thoughts running haywire.

"You look very beautiful," he says, his hand brushing away the loose strands of hair that framed your face. His hand cups your face, his lips on yours before you even realize what is happening.

He sets the glasses to the side, taking you to bed. You sit on the edge next to him, his lips on yours again. You're not responding. He stills, but just for a moment. Did he notice? He continues, his lips along your neck, his hand reaching behind you for the zipper of your wedding dress.

You feel a chill.

He undresses you, lays you on the bed, completely exposed to him. You're not registering anything, breathing shuddering as he looms over you, slowly undressing himself now.

This is happening. You can't say no. Just go with it. It will all be over soon. Just do your duties. Just drift away, and it will all end soon.

He leans down and kisses you again, and you don't respond. His hands explores you, and you close your eyes, trying to think of anything but this moment. You don't even realize that you are tensing until he stops.

"You're...crying?"

You gasp, eyes opening in shock when he brushes your tears away. He looks hurt. Why?

He kisses your forehead. "We don't have to do this," he reassures you.

You don't understand. This is expected. You can't say no. You couldn't say no to any of this. You can't say no to him either.

"We...don't?" You find your voice, as small and scared as it was.

There is so much sadness in his eyes. Why?

He smiles. There is no joy. He smiles and shakes his head.

"But...I...have...to....we have to..."

He is confused. "Says who?"

Is he really expecting an actual response? You feel lost and confused.

"Every...everyone," you answer him.

He huffs and shakes his head again. "We don't have to," he says again. "I won't force myself on you if you're uncomfortable."

"But...we are married—"

"We are married," he says firmly, "You are my wife, and I am your husband. What happens—or doesn't happen—behind closed doors is our business. Not anyone else's."

But people will talk. Time will pass, and people will start wondering why you aren't pregnant yet. That is how it goes, right? First comes marriage and then comes the baby carriage, or however the fuck it's supposed to go. You have to go through with this, the whole nine yards, or people will talk.

The military is full of secrets, but rumors will still snake their way throughout until it reaches your father. If he knows, he will blame you for embarrassing him in front of his colleagues. For being a worthless daughter who couldn't do this one thing right.

You have no say in this. You can rebel all you want, but he will always make you cower in the end and bend to his will, just like how this marriage has happened.

"We have to," you tell Caleb, surprising him, "I'm...I'm okay with this."

You gasp when he pulls you up and into his arms, your face pressed to his chest. His hand is big, you think again, feeling it stroking the back of your head, but you also realize it is so gentle. He is so much bigger than you, can easily overpower and overwhelm you, but he doesn't.

He is so, so gentle with you. Why?

You don't even realize you had started crying, your body trembling against his, until he asks, "Are you scared of me?"

And you pause, breathing still shaky.

He continues to rub the back of your head. He sighs suddenly, and he whispers into your hair, "You don't have to be scared of me. I won't hurt you. I won't force you to do anything you don't want to."

"It’s...not you," you say eventually, still unsure if you were being completely truthful with him. "It’s..."

You falter, unsure of where your fears truly lie. Him? The Gener—Father? Or...everything?

He shushes you again. "Don't worry about anyone else. Just trust me."

You look up hesitantly, your tears blurring your vision. He brushes away those tears.

You're looking at him. Truly looking at him for the first time.

His eyes are violet, you realize suddenly. They are so pretty.

"I'll protect you," he promises, "I'll keep you safe, so please....please don't be scared of me."

[superbat-lmao]

Jason blames the mistake on the fact that it was his first time being back in the cave after coming onto the scene as Red Hood. He was needed as part of a larger operation, but being back in the sterile and kleptomaniacal space had made him slip up. Old behavior patterns that fit like too tight gloves.

He’d said it as a joke, of all things.

His relationship with the bats was tepid at best and he’d rebuked every attempt they’d made for him to participate in their little “family” charade. His only concession had been for work related business. But his head wasn’t on right, it seemed, because he slipped back into the old tone he used when he would banter with Batman.

Bruce had asked him to stay for dinner, which he’d declined. Dick had asked him if he wanted to join in on movie night, which he’d ignored. Alfred had told him in no uncertain terms would someone within his household go without at least refreshment, so he’d accepted the tea. Tim and Damian had already turned in for the night, not eager to be a part of the hissed threats followed by sullen silences that functioned as their method of conversation.

Jason had been reading through some of the files for the upcoming operation while Dick was doing his best to keep up a stream of chatter. It didn’t alleviate the frosty tone of the cave, but it did remind Jason of the few times Dick had tried to play “happy family” before he’d scamper back off to Bludhaven. It was a blast from the past, this level of unease between them. If it weren’t for the spectre of glass and bloody fabric in Jason’s periphery he’d think he’d somehow been sent back in time.

At some point in the incessant noise, Dick had said something about an upcoming gala and was trying to strategize with Bruce about how to convince Damian to attend. And by “strategize with Bruce” Jason meant “prattle on aimlessly at a brick wall like a mental patient.”

Bruce told Dick that he would employ the same method he’d used on all his kids, bribery.

Then Bruce had turned to Jason and asked if he would consider attending dinner tomorrow night instead, if he was already busy.

“It’ll cost you.”

Jason’s tone should’ve been cold, aloof. But in actuality, it was a lot closer to his old humor, the sarcasm and wit that belied a Robin.

Dick had stopped talking. Bruce was quickly recovering, schooling his blank expression into something painful to look at.

“How much?”

Jason’s eyes, which had flicked back down to the file, stopped on the word associates. He glanced back up and yep. Bruce’s face was a mixture of hope and determination. His eyes glinted in the harsh fluorescents.

“What?”

“How much will it cost to have you stay for dinner tomorrow?”

Jason scoffed.

“You can’t afford me.”

“Try me.”

Dick was flicking his eyes between them like a tennis match.

Jason paused.

In actuality, crime lording paid well, but the funds weren’t all usable for the same things. For civilian things. Jason could do with some clean, unlaundered cash. Not that he wanted to admit it.

He let the silence stretch until it was uncomfortable. He didn’t take his eyes off Bruce.

“How long?”

“You stay from 6pm to 8:30pm.”

“My going rate is a hundred dollars a minute.”

“Done.”

Bruce wasn’t smiling, and Dick huffed out something that sounded faintly jealous but hey. Jason would be a fool to pass up $15,000.

[vaguely-concerned]

from what I infer from some of his dialogue, my guess is that while lucanis hasn't had a proper relationship before he has had one night stands and short term flings. and -- listen, I know he's a dick and a menace and probably a hopeless case but please do still spare illario dellamorte a moment of your thoughts and pity for the role of incredulous yet intrepid wing man that he's all but certainly had to play on several occasions for that to happen. there are 100% people out there who were trying SO fucking hard to get no strings attached laid by this stupidly hot emotionally unavailable mysterious stranger who won't be in town for long without lucanis ever realizing it. people who would have remained tragically unlaid if illario weren't there to clue him in.

I'm just imagining Illario staring in pure dismay and disbelief at his dumbass of a cousin failing to pick up what someone isn't just putting down but scattering all over the floor like glittery confetti burning with a magnesium flame brightness to spell out 'SIR PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE RAIL ME THIS IS AN OFFICIAL ENTHUSIASTIC INVITATION TO MY BED' and having to push him out the door after them like 'maker's breath sometimes i don't understand how you have the wits to grip the right end of a knife, lucanis, they were throwing themselves at you and you just stared at them in mild puzzlement until they gave up and went away go fucking GET THEM for the sake of my sanity if nothing else!!!'

[heavy-lobster]

Common misconception! The phrase "you have to spend money to make money" isn't about entrepreneurship, it's actually about how you have to buy yourself So Many stupid little treats to survive the horrors of being employed!

[al-luviec]

I got so insanely mad while drawing this

+ closeup and normalness

[emmetofthestars]

drew this for my friend. i hope you think about this image forever puff @itspufft

dont look at the time.

[coquelicoq]

i took my sleep meds and slept eleven hours and had a ton of dreams last night but i kept returning to this one thing that i really wanted to remember, because on some level i knew i was dreaming and wanted to make sure i did it in real life when i woke up. well it's been three and a half hours since i woke up but i'm just now remembering, so i will now do the thing and make a list of Foods that I Am Always Excited to Eat. i believe it went like this (emphasis in original (i.e., my dream)):

beets

cauliflower

cinnamon rolls

PEARS

[secret fifth thing that i've forgotten]

this is i think mostly true (preface beets and cauliflower with "roasted" and it's completely true). i am always excited to eat these four things (god i wish i could remember the fifth thing!), even when i resent having to eat with every fiber of my being. good to know!

there was a secondary list of foods that i'm usually excited to eat but i've forgotten everything on that one (it was very short, maybe three things) except thai fried rice. which i'm not even sure is true...like i do like it but when i'm not feeling food at all it's not like thai fried rice has special properties that allow me to eat it without begrudging the experience. and i'm not sure why thai fried rice specifically. i like other kinds of fried rice equally well.

in one of the dreams i went to a bakery full of baked goods i wanted to eat and spent several minutes enthusiastically exclaiming over each one and trying to choose while the baker stood there trying to hide his shyly pleased smile. i eventually bought a single gigantic cinnamon roll that was ten dollars and two other things i can't remember. i'm guessing this dream is because last year on new year's eve i made cinnamon rolls, which was such a memorable experience (i got to eat a fucking cinnamon roll!) that my brain flagged it to be revisited in a year's time. thanks, brain!

[tkbrokkoli]

i thought arthur finally got a rly good night's sleep but turns out this was just the beginning of a nightmare full of The Horrors

[blueskittlesart]

i am not autistic but i do believe in their beliefs

[girlbloggercrowley]

i am a believer in the s3 1941 kiss

[asurrogateblog]

🫡 salute to paul's gen z trans son who presumably had to teach him gender identity and pronoun vocabulary and is almost certainly picking up on things I bet they wish they did not know about their dad

[anantplayingdnd]

the craziest part of dinner at ravenloft (and the whole curse of strahd campaign in general) is how frequently my players/the PCs manage to get out of situations just by out-autisming me.

like Strahd is trying to be all dramatic while dancing with the cleric and she just goes, "So, what's your favorite animal?" and when he says "Bats" (obviously) she just STARTS LISTING BAT FACTS???

[xxplastic-cubexx]

THE BABY FACE I'M WHEEZING

Erik chill bro ✋🏻😔

babies always got that stupid ass look in their eyes its my favorite thing

[wereh0gz]

Can't get the idea of a sonic storybook game based on little red riding hood where sonic is summoned to play the role of the big bad wolf out of my head

Sonic would be a werehog (the big bad wolf, of course), cream would be little red riding hood, and vanilla would be the grandmother (tho idk if their relationship would actually change). I'm thinking eggman would be the hunter but it could be someone else too. Also there has to be a shahra/merlina type character in there somewhere, not sure what her role would be tho

Sonic knows very well how the story goes (pretty much everyone does) and adamantly refuses to play his role like he's supposed to bc eating someone, then pretending to be them to try and eat someone else, and then getting shot and dying is. Not exactly his style y'know

Still, despite his efforts, things play out like they usually do near the end, with the hunter fending off/(trying to) kill him. I'm thinking he uses silver bullets to incorporate some werewolf lore bc of the werehog thing

Though the story it's based on is relatively simple compared to the arabian nights or arthurian legend, it still ends with someone becoming an eldritch-like being in an attempt to rewrite the narrative somehow

Maybe someone was manipulating the hunter behind the scenes to make him think the big bad wolf was still a bad guy. Or maybe the hunter messed with forces out of his control like eggman usually does in order to get rid of sonic. OR maybe the hunter killed the og big bad wolf before he was supposed to and sonic is summoned basically as a replacement by the new shahra/merlina so the story goes as it's "supposed to", and she gets pissed when it doesn't

Not sure how it would go exactly, but like. It's a staple of the series for it to end like that by this point. Also would be cool if there were more horror elements in general in the game I think. And weird magic shit but I think that's obvious by now

Maybe the first half of the game is just sonic but in the story of little red riding hood, but after everything with the hunter and getting shot with a silver bullet, the second half has him race against the clock to find some way to cure his poisoning and figure out what the fuck is happening. Bc he knows this story and can very clearly tell something is off abt the way things are playing out

Also the new super-esque transformation sonic gains to defeat the final boss has to have some werehog elements in it. I'm thinking like an aura that forms its silhouette around sonic, or maybe like a form that looks like a mix of super and the werehog? Idk

Anyways. Yeah