#astor apartment

[21astor]

Discover the Best Nob Hill and Portland Luxury Apartments

Introduction

Nob Hill Apartments in Portland

Nob Hill is a historic and charming neighborhood, otherwise known as the Northwest District, which has the features of an old world while still maintaining modern conveniences. The Nob Hill apartments in Portland have an interesting fusion of both classic architecture and contemporary ways of living. Typically, they are set within exquisitely restored buildings or new constructions that mirror the past designs of this locality.

Historic Charm: A lot of apartments in Nob Hill have characteristic architectural characteristics like parquet flooring and old school fittings merged with contemporary alterations.

Prime Location: Nob Hill is full of life and it is an attractive place to reside in as there are huge shopping malls, hotels serving delicious food, and large farmlands around that area.

Unique Style: The area offers a mix of cozy studios, spacious one-bedroom units, and luxurious multi-bedroom apartments, catering to a variety of lifestyles.

Luxury Apartments in Portland, Oregon

The capital city of Portland has several ultramodern flats to choose from for those looking for luxury apartments in Portland, Oregon that are designed with richness, class and comfort. They use just first-class materials, have sophisticated structures decorated with great attention to detail, latest technology installations which offer the ultimate stylishness without sacrificing on goodness.

Modern Design: Luxury apartments in Portland are characterized by sleek, contemporary designs with high-end finishes, such as granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and hardwood floors.

Exclusive Amenities: Residents can enjoy features such as rooftop terraces, state-of-the-art fitness centers, and concierge services, elevating their living experience.

Portland Luxury Apartments

Portland luxury apartments do not refer to any specific buildings but rather comprise numerous opulent places for living located in different parts of the city. Therefore, whichever part you like most be it Nob Hill’s historical appeal or even Downtown’s latest facilities; there is always something for all classes of people within the realm of Portland’s upscale flats.

From high-rise buildings with stunning city views to intimate boutique complexes, Portland luxury apartments cater to various preferences and needs.

Expect exceptional service, beautifully designed spaces, and a focus on resident satisfaction in Portland’s luxury apartment offerings.

Enjoy easy access to Portland’s cultural hotspots, dining experiences, and recreational activities, all while living in style and comfort.

Conclusion

High-end living options are available in the city, ranging from contemporary luxury flats scattered across Portland, Oregon to historic elegance found within Nob Hill. Go through the unique characteristics of Nob Hill apartments in Portland and find the luxurious flat that matches your lifestyle and preferences better.

[muchmossymess]

you guys have no idea how much i think about the malice champions (the game calls them "hollows" and thats quite frankly terrifying)

[dutifulsilence]

@fragmentedlegends sent: Astor “Nervous? Whatever for, Hero?” (I read your tags and Astor immediately said, “Oh good, let’s fuck with them.” 🤣)

« Nervous about pasty hooded figures speaking to me from the shadows. » It's signed with all wide, fluid motions to denote his sarcasm, but truthfully, there is a hint of truth to it. Link doesn't trust the man at all, with good reason - their first meeting in the Lost Woods was enough to judge him by.

« Shouldn't you be prostrating in front of some relic of the Calamity about now? »

[angelamontoo]

So I just finished listening to the radio version of Mask of Dimitrios and like.....

Script writers for the Lady Astor face cream mystery screen guild or whatever the fuck you're called....what did Sydney Greenstreet do to hurt you??

Not only is this the second time these big bullies changed the ending of a film Syd was in so his character dies when he didn't originally, but why the hell did they make Eric a significantly less sympathetic and dignified character for no real reason?

•He says that he never intended to give Cornelius his share of the money anyway when there was nothing in the film that explicitly suggested he was planning to use him like that.

•When he tells Leyden to leave the room in this version, he's yelling for him to get the police instead of trying to protect him, even though getting the cops involved seems like a really stupid idea all things considered

•They make Leyden all squeamish about the idea of blackmailing dimitrios for some reason, thus making it seem like Peter's was forcing him into it when that wasn't the case at all

•Ofc since Eric dies in this version, we don't have the touching ending where he realises the money doesnt matter to him and then when the police show up, he takes full responsibility for Dimitrios murder. This part is especially frustrating since my other gripes with Eric's character wouldve been mostly forgiving if they kept the films ending in since his other flaws could then be dismissed as a slightly heavy handed way to show how his bond with Cornelius changed Eric for the better. But nope!

•And finally, idk why this one bugs me so much, but something about the dopey lil reveal at the end that the champagne Eric bought was just shitty, 5 Frank wine really pouts my lip. Like, he has a million Frank's, why the fuck would he be a cheapskate about the champagne??

Boy! I did nooot expect to have this much to complain about with this one. In fact, for the first half of the show, I was getting ready to call it my favourite radio adaption of one of Peter's films. Tbh its still my second favourite, but that is not saying much considering how hostile I am towards the radio adaption of TMF

[shadowofthehost]

"You people get so attached to things. Just kill it, it's homeless anyway. Letting it live is the suffering."

[willieverseetheland]

mama?

Dexter Morgan x reader

based on this ask!

Warnings: mentions of death, blood, violence, domestic violence, all the usual Dexter stuff, very much angst Summary: Following Rita’s death, Dexter and reader become close as they deal with the aftermath.

It was a quiet evening. You were sitting on your balcony watching the full, glowing moon. You were deep in thought when your phone began to ring, pulling you back to reality. The caller ID said Dexter Morgan, you thought this was strange as he and Rita were supposed to have left on their honeymoon. Maybe they decided not to bring Harrison along after all. But when you answered, it was a woman's voice.

"Hello? This is Debra Morgan with Miami Metro Homicide, is this y/n?"

"Yes?" You replied with a slight quiver in your voice, confused. Homicide? What is happening? "There's been an incident, Dexter thought you should know. However, he's preoccupied at the moment. Rita..."

Her voice begins to shake, you can sense that she's about to cry

"Um, Rita's been murdered, I understand you two were close."

It was like the entire world stopped. Murdered? Rita was the loveliest, sweetest, most pure-of-heart person you knew. Who would possibly have wanted to hurt her?

The phone slipped out of your hand. Thankfully you were already sitting down, or you may have fell off your balcony. You can hear the woman repeating "hello, are you there?" over the phone. But everything was static. Nothing made sense. As it all began to settle into place, what really happened. You let out a loud sob. Shaking violently, tears streaming down your face. You bang your fist on the ground, screaming. Angry at the world, or whatever higher power that existed. As you sat there and sobbed, you began to think about Harrison, Dexter, Astor, Cody, everyone else who knew and loved Rita. God! Poor Harrison. He hardly got to know his mother.

You think of all the times you saved Rita from Paul. All the late nights scared it would be the last time. Scared, because you didn't know when it would be the last punch, kick, slap. There were honestly times you thought he would kill her. You thought you had prepared yourself for this, but how could you, how could anyone. When he died, you were there to support Rita of course, but deep down you were glad. You saw first-hand how he treated her, how it affected the kids.

Rita was like a sister to you. You considered yourself like an aunt to those kids. A piece of you died today, something you don't know if you'll ever get back.

--

You were awoken by the sound of loud honking. You open your eyes to see the bright morning sun over Miami. It made you angry, how could the world go on when yours came crashing down less than 24 hours ago. You look around, you must've cried yourself into exhaustion and passed out on your balcony.

You go back inside. Your cat comes up to nudge your leg. You look down at him and he just stares at you and meows. You wish you could be like him, blissfully unaware of all the evil in the world.

You go to make a pot of coffee, but you just collapse on the floor of your kitchen. How can you go on? Rita is dead. Harrison, Astor, and Cody just lost their mother. Dexter lost his wife. And yet the world keeps spinning. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's your boss. You look at the time, you were supposed to be at work an hour ago.

"Fuck" you sigh, leaning your head back against your kitchen counter

You answer, telling him you won't be coming in today, death in the family. He can be a dick at times, but he's understanding when it comes to this.

You scan your apartment. Eyes settling on the picture on your bedside table. You walk over to it, picking it up. It's a photo of you, Dexter, Rita, and the kids at Rita's birthday party. You place it face down; you can't bear to look at it right now.

Dexter lingers in your mind. God! How could you be so selfish? He must be in shambles right now. Grieving the death of his wife and having to be responsible for little Harrison. Maybe you should go check on him, see Harrison. Might take your mind off of things. Or make things worse. You don't know. Either way you need to do something.

You throw on a sweater and your shoes. You know the house is likely still a crime scene so you can't go there. Dex and Harrison are probably with his sister, who conveniently lives at his old apartment, so finding the place won't be too difficult. You drive like a bat out of hell, trying to get there as fast as you can.

You arrive and knock on the door, no one answers. You knock again, still no answer. You figure nobody is home, so you turn to leave. As you start walking away, you hear the handle turn, and the door unlatch. You turn around, seeing Dexter peering out from the crack in the door. You greet him with a warm smile as he opens the door fully. You immediately lean in for a hug, which he doesn't move away from but doesn't exactly reciprocate. He just stands there with his arms at his side, stiff. He does lean his chin on your shoulder though. He sighs in relief, shoulders loosening.

"Deb called me last night, told me what happened. I know it's probably a stupid question, but how are you?" You look in his eyes, sincerity and empathy written all over your face.

He knows this is hard on you too.

"I'm doing okay, I have to, for him." He turns to look at Harrison, sleeping soundly in his crib.

You two go to sit on the couch, you place a hand on his shoulder, trying to be comforting.

"I found him sitting in a pool of her blood" He turns to look at you, face empty, exhausted.

Your hands fly to your mouth as you gasp

"Dexter, my god. I'm so sorry" Tears begin to well up in your eyes

"If it's too much you don't have to answer, but how did it happen exactly? Deb told me she was murdered, but not what happened."

"You've seen the trinity killer on the news, right?" He turns to look at you

"A single cut to her thigh, slicing the femoral artery. She bled out." His voice is steady, concise.

Anyone who didn't know Dexter would think he's unbothered, but you know this is just him. He's devastated on the inside.

"I, I uh... that's horrible, I'm sorry you had to see that." Your voice is soft, comforting.

"If it's any help, I wouldn't mind watching over Harrison for a few days, while you get the funeral things figured out. And Astor and Cody, if needed."

"They're with their grandparents, they don't know yet. They're coming back today. Thank you, that would actually be a big help." He gives you a slight smile, you can tell it's forced but you appreciate the effort.

--

The days go by, each one as painful as the previous. Everyone tells you to take it one day at a time, but nothing is changing. Nothing is getting better. Her funeral was devastating, you cried the entire time. You tried to stay strong, for the kids, but seeing her lying there, you couldn't. She looked beautiful, like she was sleeping. Astor and Cody went to stay with their grandparents in Orlando, which you know is hard on Dexter. He really loves them. You switched your hours around so you could work nights and watch Harrison during the day while Dex is at work. Harrison has been the only highlight of your life recently, one of the only things you have left of Rita. He's truly an amazing child, and thankfully he doesn't seem to be affected by what happened. You know Dexter was really concerned about that.

You've tried to be there for Dexter as well, but he hasn't been as accepting. You understand though. However, it's what Rita would want you to do. She always trusted you to take care of her family. You considered Rita to be like a sister, and it's what you would do for family.

You take Harrison back home that afternoon. Dexter has the biggest smile on his face as he takes Harrison into his arms, he's a great father and loves Harrison so much.

"How was he?" He questions

"Wonderful as always, he's such a little angel" You smile

"But the real question is, how are you, Dexter?"

"You don't have to worry about me, I'm fine" There's a hint of irritation in his voice

"Dexter, but I do worry about you. You've just suffered a great tragedy. I just want to be sure you're okay"

"I just told you I am okay, why do you care so much anyways?" He shakes his head and places Harrison in his crib

"It's what Rita would've wanted!" You exclaim

He turns around to look at you, you can see that he's distraught. Being a single parent is never easy, especially one that's grieving.

He sighs

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I really am okay, I promise" He gives you another one of his classic fake smiles, you know he doesn't want to talk about it anymore, so you don't press

"Alright, if you insist"

--

It's been almost a year since Rita's death now. You still miss her like crazy, but things have gotten easier. Harrison is walking and talking which has been very emotional, you wish Rita was here to see it. He's become a part of your regular routine now. Dexter offered to pay you to be his nanny, but you declined, quite aggressively. Dexter kept insisting but you would not accept under any circumstances. Spending all this time with Harrison has also meant spending quite a lot of time with Dexter as well. You've grown to really care for him.

One morning, you were over at Dexter's feeding Harrison breakfast. Dexter was getting ready for work. He came out of the bedroom, shirt unbuttoned. You couldn't help but stare, which made you feel guilty. You admired his hands as he swiftly fastened the buttons, his arms as he rolled up his sleeves, his sculpted chest peeking through the top of his shirt. You felt wrong. He comes over to give Harrison a kiss on the head. As he walks by, his shoulder brushes yours. You blush, in embarrassment and due to your true feelings. As you airplane another spoon of yogurt into Harrison's mouth, out comes something that shocks you to your core.

"Mama" Harrison babbles

You and Dexter immediately make eye contact. Your eyes are blown open wide, mouth agape.

"I'm so sorry, I have no idea why he would say that" You panic

"It's alright, he doesn't know any different" Dexter reassures you

You and Dexter just stand there, looking at each other. He smiles, a genuine smile this time. Something you've missed seeing.

He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close. He brings his hand to your cheek and leans in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You immediately melt. You felt so guilty for feeling the way you did, falling for a man who was grieving his dead wife. You bring your hands up to hold his face. Deepening the kiss. When you pull away, you can't help but smile a big goofy grin. Dexter is smiling too, which makes your heart flutter.

You stand there in comfortable silence, before Dexter announces he has to go, and that he wants you to be here when he gets home. He kisses your cheek and leaves. Your heart feels so full. However, you still feel guilty, like you're betraying Rita, but you also feel like this is what she would want. You know her family well, and you love them like they're your own.

You lay Harrison down for a nap, kissing him on the forehead. You grab a cup of coffee and go outside. It's a chilly spring morning. As you're looking out over Miami, a white butterfly lands on your finger. A tear rolls down your, cheek. You've never been much of a spiritual person, but you know it's her, and suddenly everything starts to feel like it's going to be okay.

...

Literally almost cried while writing this, I love Rita so much. I hope I did your vision justice! Sorry it's so long lol

[lighthousepigeons]

Remi: I'm an Astor, flirting is apart of my heritage.

Ariella: What does that mean?

Cole: His father was a slut too.

[lazyteapot]

✧ Shea Astor - Lenora Apartments, Apt 3100

➤ originally from windenberg, after earning her degree in communications from britechester university shea quickly moved to the city to pursue a career in talent management. after a somewhat successful career in the field for about 2 years, she has set her sights on becoming the talent herself and is now pursuing a modeling career with encore entertainment in san myshuno.

[avengerscompound]

Shared Experience - Chapter 5

Shared Experience - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating:  E

Warnings:  mentions of past torture, murder, and sexual assault

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Rose Astor

Word Count: 1809

Summary:  Rose Astor met her end in 1920, joining the ranks of the living dead two years after the birth of Steve Rogers.  A century later the two meet in battle - a beacon of light clashing with a creature of the night.  Despite their differences, the two bond over their shared life experiences.  Can a vampire become an Avenger?  Can two such different beings create a life together?

Chapter 5

It had been decades since Rose had felt as helpless and weak as she had when she’d broken down in tears in the foyer of her house.  It was such an alien and awful feeling that once the tears had run out, anger replaced them.  She was so angry that she still had it in her to feel this way.  She had thought she had become immune to that.  She thought she’d lost that part of her.  That had been the weak human in her and she’d cast it aside when she no longer needed Marcellus to teach her.

After the anger faded it left an overwhelming loneliness.  She’d been alone for so long, and for so long she thought she’d been okay with that.  It was better to be alone than to be around people as they aged and then died around her and it was definitely better than being stuck with someone like Marcellus.  She had convinced herself that she didn’t need companionship.  That she was above those mortal needs.

And just like that her worldview had shattered.

Steve led her to the living room and pulled out a handkerchief.  It was large and pale blue with blue and red stripes around the edge.  It had been so long since she’d even seen one, that it made her start laughing, which made her cry harder.  She wiped her eyes, the blood from her tears stained the delicate piece of fabric right through and she looked up at Steve and saw the blood stains smeared over his shirt.

“Oh god,” she said, uselessly trying to wipe the blood from his shirt with the handkerchief.  “I'm so sorry.  I must look ghoulish.”

Steve shook his head.  “I've seen worse.”

Rose stood and wrung the handkerchief in her hand.  “Let me go clean up.  I’ll be back.  Just… Make yourself at home.”

She waited for his go-ahead and that pause for permission made the anger boil up again.  Steve gave a short nod and she rushed off, covering her face.

When she reached the bathroom she leaned against the vanity and squeezed her eyes closed as she centered herself.  Things had gone so wrong.  It was the risk involved with starving herself, but of all the expected outcomes, being held prisoner by the Avengers, being blackmailed to join, and ending up crying blood tears in the arms of Captain America had not even made the list.

She huffed and began to wash her face.  With no reflection, it was always impossible to know if she’d gotten everything, so her ritual had always been to scrub thoroughly for longer than seemed reasonable.  Today she scrubbed harder still.  She scrubbed until her skin felt raw and continued scrubbing for some time afterward.

When she finally stopped scrubbing, she went looking for something Steve might be able to change into.  It proved to be a useless endeavor.  She was significantly smaller than Steve, so even her largest items of clothing were far too small to fit him.  There were some outfits that Marcellus had abandoned, but he’d been much thinner than Steve, and even if they did fit, the fabric was so old that when she picked it up, it began to fall apart.

She went back to Steve empty-handed.  He was standing in the drawing room, looking at her collection of vinyls that filled the shelves built into the whole back wall.  He looked over at her, holding one of the singles.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded.  “That was new for me.”

“Your tears…”

She shrugged.  “I can’t explain it.  My heart doesn’t pump, and yet everything is blood.  I’m sorry about your shirt.  I tried to find you something to change into.”

He looked down at himself and then back up at her.  “Don’t worry about it.  I’ve had to catch the train home with more blood on me than this before.  None of it’s mine this time, which is nice.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that.  “What have you got there?” she asked, nodding to the single in his hands.

Steve looked down at it like he was startled that he was holding it.  “Oh.  I was just looking at what you had.  It goes back a long way,” he said.

She came over to him and took the single from his hands.  It was the 1939 version of Sunrise Serenade and Moonlight Serenade by the Glenn Miller Orchestra.  “I was eighteen and spending all my time in speakeasies when I died.  I’ve been in this house ever since.  My collection has only been added to over time,” she explained as she went to her record player.  It was styled to fit into the Art Nouveau style of the house but was actually only a few years old.  Despite her love of vinyls, she kept up to date with music technology and her sound system was the best that money could buy.  She put the record on, choosing the B side of Moonlight Serenade, and the clarinet and saxophone floated through the room.  If it weren’t for the slight scratch of the needle moving over the vinyl, it almost sounded as if the band were right there with them.

Steve closed his eyes and listened for a moment, swaying ever so slightly to the sound.  It made Rose want to go to him and take his hands.  It had been so long since she danced with someone, and watching Steve, she felt like the same might be true for him too.

Instead, she stayed where she was and hugged her arms around herself.  “So what do we do now?”

Steve opened his eyes and looked at her.  “Bruce is right,” he said.  “We can’t just keep you captive and force you to fight.  But - I do think you should join us.  You’ve been alone for too long, Rose.  I know you think you can do this all alone, but you don’t have to.”

“I don’t see how I could be much help to you,” Rose said.  “Fighting in the War was different.  They took us where we needed to be.  We’d wake, and it was like firing a bullet from a gun.  How will you plan your battles around the fact I only wake at night?”

“That’s a secondary issue,” he said.  “We can figure out how best you can help us.  Maybe it won’t even be in a fighting role.”

She tapped her fingers on her arms and worried at her bottom lip with her teeth.  She knew if she did that for too long, she was likely to prick it with her fangs, but she couldn’t seem to stop as she considered the offer.   “Like a spy?”

“Possibly,” he said.  “From the sound of it, you’re good at keeping secrets.”

A small bubble of laughter escaped her, taking her by surprise.  “That’s true,” she said.  “I am.  I still feel like this isn’t about you wanting me to join as much as it is about you wanting to keep an eye on me and make sure I’m not going around murdering people.”

Steve sighed and pushed his hands into his pockets as he looked down at his feet.  The record reached the end of the track and there was a whir and a click as the needle moved off and the machine flipped the record over.  The blast of wind and brass instruments startled both of them as the start of Sunrise Serenade started and Steve’s eyes met hers again.

“Can you blame me?” he asked.  “I saw you kill a man.  You drained him right in front of me.  Everything I know about vampires is that they hunt and feed off people.  And it’s not like I know you.  I swore I’d protect people and I can’t help feeling that letting you go is breaking that oath.”

She went to interrupt him on this circular conversation that it felt like they’d been having for days now but he held up his hand to stop her.  “But you did kill that man in battle and you saved a lot of lives.  And I have no reason other than mythology to believe that you’re about to go on a murder spree.  You’ve been honest with me.  So I want to trust you.  I do think you’ll be an asset to the team, and I do want to keep an eye on you.  I also think you need people.  I think we might have things in common and we might be friends.  Those aren’t conflicting ideas.”

Her fang punctured her lip and she winced and wiped her mouth.  “If I agree to this, it puts me in danger.  You’re right.  I am good at keeping secrets.  I have to be.  There’s a reason the general population doesn't know about us.  We’re completely helpless in the daytime and we’re their predators.  How many predators have been hunted to the edge of extinction by mankind?”

Steve’s eyebrows knitted together.  The reminder that the people he had promised to protect were her food had obviously been a mistake, but she needed him to understand that it wasn’t just a case of her being a risk to humanity, humanity was a risk to her too.

The upbeat melody of the song carried on for a few bars before Steve seemed to finish wrestling with his thoughts.  “We can keep people from finding out,” he said.

“I don’t just mean not announcing you have a vampire on your team.  There are people that hunt my kind and will know what I am when they see me,” she explained.  “I don’t show up on film, so you can’t do a press conference and introduce me.  And I can’t be in places where footage of me fighting will end up being public.”

“Who would hunt you if you’re an Avenger?” Steve asked.

“There’s a secret order of monster hunters who hunt us as a sport.  The followers of the Egyptian god Konshu consider us a threat to those who travel at night.  There is one of us, a day walker, who has vowed to rid the world of us.  If they know where to find me, they’ll come for me.”

Steve approached her.  “We’ll keep you under the radar,” he promised.  “And we’ll protect you.  You’ll be part of the team.  We won’t let anyone hurt you.”

 She looked up into the blue of his eyes.  Behind her the record reached the end of the song and the needle lifted and moved back to its off position and the record slowly stopped spinning.  She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip again and sighed.  “Fine.  I’ll do it.  I’ll join.  God, you are impossible.”

He smiled, his eyes twinkling.  “It’s one of my better qualities,” he joked and held out his hand.  “Welcome aboard.”

// NEXT

[iwantmasterkohga]

───────────DENIAL IS A RIVER IN THE GERUDO ───────────

a ridiculously long Master Kohga x Sooga smut that turned into an entire fic

Content warnings: none :)

───────────────

Epilogue

Change of Fate

───────────────

By no means, was Sooga weak.

No, perish the thought. He was a wonder to all associated with the clan, and even beyond. His physique alone made enemies tremble, his powerful hands could summon tornados, he could shake the earth, he was unstoppable- the reincarnation of power itself, a force one wouldn’t dare reckon with..

But, beneath all of that, deep down, he was soft. He was anxious. He was sensitive. But overall..

He was actually deeply in love.

Gah, what a humiliating misstep.

The right hand of the inverted eye does not fall in love.

Especially not with the one he was sworn to protect

The one whom he owed his life to

No, it just wouldn’t do.

… or at least, that was his mindset before he saved him.

The night he died.

Surrounded by unholy beasts at every corner,

The evil that is malice seeping in every crack of the earth and the embodiment of grueling betrayal entwining the yiga clan in its wicked thread.

So many died for the cause that wasn’t even in their favor

The cackle that escaped the pale man’s throat told Sooga his fate was written from the moment the seer saw him. It was the calamities plan all along to dispose of him like filth

But, in that moment, Sooga didn’t care if he died or not- that wasn’t what angered him. It was the way Astor looked at Kohga.

That man eyed Kohga like he was candy. like a predator sizing up its prey. He was so sure of himself that he would come out on top of all of this- that Kohga was merely a piece in this senseless game of chess

Sooga would never give him the satisfaction he wanted.

The only way he would die is for Kohga, and Kohga alone.

And so he did.

Or…tried, is a better word.

Kohga didn’t let him die.

It’s funny, you never know how much you mean to someone until they burst into the sad excuse for an infirmary where your tied down to a bed, and drunkenly sob as they cling onto your hand for dear life.

He never seen Kohga like that- not ever, and frankly, he never wanted to see him in such a state again.

You see, Kohga was the epitome of glory. He brought awe and woe to any blessed enough to be in his presence. A long bloodline of the most gifted magicians, harnessing malicious power that rivaled Shieka monks. He basked in the violet desert wind, that unearthed his unholy heart. spoiled by adoring underlings, his chin risen so high, he couldn’t see anyone beneath his status.

How could Sooga ever compare? He was in an entirely different league. He came from nothing- scorned by his own, left to die in the unforgiving dunes of the Gerudo. He was Kohgas right hand and bodyguard, and every day he thanked any gods out there for letting it be so. To be in his presence just once, to get one nod of approval made his heart flutter. Let his hand brush his for just one moment, and his head spun. forbid he ever see kohgas face again- his heart may stop.

Kohga trusted him with nearly everything, he told him everything, them being apart was unheard of. They came in a pair, it’s always been so..

Now thinking about it, who wouldn’t expect them to be together in that way?

The signs were all there. The hints Kohga would send, so subtle, so suggestive.

since the night he sacrificed himself, it’s weighed on his mind like a festering wound.

Why did he do that? He knew within moments he would rather kill himself for his master than let anyone else have power over him.. but it was never like this before. Sooga was never like this before

He would wonder what it all meant, keeping him up at night. laying there, staring up at the ceiling. The bitter wind of the midnight desert howling outside above the winding tunnels.

really, it didn’t matter if he was awake or asleep, Kohga was always there.

Recently his dreams have all consisted of nothing but his Master. Near him, talking to him, touching him.

What sort of degenerate had he become? What changed? Why was it harder to keep his composure around him now?

It was agonizing to imagine confronting his feelings.

Not a soul deserved to know his devotion to Kohga, and how quickly it turned into something far more than loyalty to a cause.

──────────────

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Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my stupid brainrot slop!! This is just setting up the tone. Next chapter should be out as soon as friday!!

[ghostsandfools]

An analysis of Moonflower and the owners of Gardenview:

Dandy x Astro, our favorite toxic yaoi couple. Even if you see them as just friends, you’ve got to admit, their dynamic is ripe with potential.

Then there’s Arthur and Delilah, two lesser known Dandy’s World characters. For those who don’t know, Delilah and Arthur took out a loan together and started Gardenview Educational Center. They are the owners of the building and (supposedly) created the toons as well.

But I wonder, could their relationship be a parallel to Dandy and Astro’s? Let’s talk about it!

Astro and Dandy have been close since the beginning. They were two of the first toons, created along with the other mains in 1988.

Not only that, but they seem to have been friends in the show as well. Even if you don’t ship them, it’s clear that they were close with each other.

Arthur and Delilah also seem to be close friends. The first interaction we get between them is when they sign a loan together in 1984, presumably the money they use to start Gardenview. While a loan isn’t very interesting, you probably wouldn’t want to sign a loan with any random person on the street, so they were probably pretty close even before then.

Arthur doesn’t fully understand what Delilah is doing or how she brings the toons to life, but he trusts her. They’ve seemingly been friends for a while, and he really, truly trusts her. She’s never failed him before!

And then the issues arise. After a while, things begin to change. Dandy starts acting differently, and so does Delilah. In 2002, Gardenview is shut down due to lack of regulations as well as something called the “malfunction incident.” When questioned about these things, Arthur remained quiet, and there’s no mention of Delilah being questioned at all.

She stays completely quiet about everything. It seems the only person she talks to about it is Arthur, and even then, she denies knowing anything about it. He asks and asks to talk with her again, but it’s unclear if she ever fulfills that request.

The language he uses here is especially interesting to me. He seems suspicious of her, frustrated and confused. But it almost seems like he’s nervous about calling her out, he’s hurt that she didn’t talk to him. He seems less angry at her and more concerned or worried. His tone is demanding, as if he’s had enough, but it’s not bossy. He’s still polite, almost friendly as he asks to speak with her again.

Before, their letters seemed busy, rushed, hasty. They were too busy running Gardenview to send emails or have long conversations in person, scrawling silly notes and messages to each other instead. Delilah seemed demanding of him, ordering him to bring her more coffee and send her more reference pictures, but it didn’t seem malicious then.

Now though, Gardenview is closed. Arthur has all the time in the world to compose a nervous letter to her, questioning their friendship and if she’s trustworthy. Before he blindly trusted her, but now he finally realizes something is wrong. He’s not hurriedly scrawling a letter and dropping it by her office because he’s too busy to talk in person, he’s writing to her because he doesn’t feel like he can talk to her. Their friendship is falling apart.

Doesn’t all of this sound familiar? It sounds just like Astor and Dandy’s relationship, starting as friends (or lovers) and slowly falling apart.

Astro only mentions Dandy by name once, in his dialogue with Pebble. He says he’s worried about Dandy. However, there is one more interesting piece of dialogue, his dialogue with Teagan.

Teagan: "Astro, are you still talking with... Him?"

Astro: "Yes... well, sometimes... not as often..."

Teagan: "Goodness Astro, you need to make up your mind!"

Astro: "...Sorry."

Now, many people think the “Him” is Dandy, and i agree. It doesn’t really make sense for it to be anybody else, unless it’s a character we haven’t been introduced to, but that would be kind of dumb.

This shows that Astro still feels some attachment to him. He knows he shouldn’t be talking to Dandy anymore, but after all the time they’ve spent together (and all the manipulation, probably) he just can’t bring himself to cut ties completely, similar to Arthur.

Another interesting thing is the requirements you need to fulfill to buy Astro. To buy Astro, you have to have seen twisted Dandy. To BE Astro, you have to have seen twisted Dandy. Which makes me wonder: is that important to the lore? Has Astro actually seen Dandy in his twisted form? And if so, how much does he truly know? Does he understand the full extent of what he saw? Or is that why he’s so worried about Dandy, because he’s seen his true form and doesn’t understand why the person he’s been friends with for so long is now suddenly so different, why Dandy is suddenly hiding things from him.

That all ties back in to Arthur and Delilah as well. Arthur references how Delilah “had to have known something like this could have happened to him.” Yet another mysterious him, and I wonder: Could Arthur have seen twisted Dandy as well? Maybe that’s what he’s referring to in his letter. Delilah built the toons, she owns the building, she oversees everything! And if Arthur couldn’t explain what was happening, there’s only one person who could.

This leads into a theory I’ve mentioned before: Dandy wasn’t the true mastermind behind the ichor operation. Once, he was normal, he was kind. But Delilah, his creator, basically a god to him, began to corrupt him with ichor and turn him into a twisted. Perhaps they even worked together. After all, how would Dandy know how to corrupt everybody by himself? How would he get his hands on this mysterious “ichor”? With the help of a human.

The relationship shipping potential here is amazing! Imagine the struggle Astro would go through, the struggle of knowing that his lover, the one person who had been with him through it all had been corrupted by a monster. And what if the real Dandy is still in there somewhere? Watching helplessly as his body worked on its own, hurting everyone he loved.

Even if you don’t like shipping it’s tragic! Poor Astro, having to decide between his best friend’s trust and everyone else’s safety. Maybe that’s why the game references him frowning so much, he keeps worrying about Dandy, to the point he can’t even put a smile on for the kids. And poor Arthur as well: I can’t help but wonder what happened to him. Did he cut ties with Delilah? Did she manipulate her way back into his life? Is he even alive?

Let me know what you all think, I never see anyone talk about this and it drives me crazy! Arthur and Delilah are such clear parallels to Dandy and Astro, their names even start with the same letters!

[21astor]

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[oliveroctavius]

Let's look briefly at the Coffee Bean in Spider-Man comics!

Contrary to popular memory, Peter's college pals initially met up at a diner called the Silver Spoon (ASM 44, but also 46, 52, possibly 125).

The spread at the top of this post takes a lot from this place's layout. But as newcomer MJ might have pointed out, diners are so fifties. The modern teen needed someplace cooler and edgier to hang out. Somewhere more underground. Literally.

Maps place The Coffee Bean alternately in East Village or Tribeca. The beret and glasses? The lowercase Dante's Inferno quote? The wall-hung guitar? So hipster. Wait, wrong decade. So beatnik.

The OG Bean didn't show up much more frequently than the Silver Spoon (ASM 53, 59, and 82, most notably), but it's the one that stuck in the cultural imagination. I enjoy Tim Sale's take in Spider-Man: Blue with the unfinished basement look and cult film posters.

In early modern flashbacks, the location is plagued by a specific continuity problem: "then [character] leaps through the WINDOW!" from new writers who missed the fact that it's below ground. In ASM Annual '96, JRSr complies by raising the ceiling a level!

The Sensational Spider-Man Annual's approach to the Coffee Bean makes me a bit sad. Dialogue repeatedly emphasizes its unique character and long history and how well MJ knows the place. But it's drawn aboveground and totally generic. (This from an issue with a dozen Silver Age panels directly traced!)

It's not the first time that happens, but here feels like a critical failure of show-don't-tell. The eventual window smash is worth it, but... I'd argue this would work better set at the Silver Spoon (where MJ actually met the gang, old in an uncool way, aboveground) instead.

Brand New Day reestablishes a solid sense of place for the Coffee Bean. Brick and glass entryway, a logo that's less beatnik and more Starbuck, and an interior that reminds me of a Panera Bread.

(If it's supposed to be canon that the new more corporate look is due to renovations by Harry, that's been lost in the shuffle. But it would make sense to me. His effort at impressing Norman with a plan to make the Bean a chain store circa ASM 569 would extend his trend of editorializing his own memories.)

While it still teleports between Astor Place and Tribeca, this version has now had more consistent (and just more) appearances than the original. And, of course, it has a beautiful bank of windows to—

Ah, that's more like it.

The Coffee Bean has become a symbol of innocent nostalgia and a happier past. It was also (as designed by Romita Sr) a virtual bunker: not until 1977 would superheroics be written to take place inside the Coffee Bean. (ASM Annual #11—Romita Jr's first ever penciling job on Spider-Man, interestingly.)

As a silver age icon, the location was physically safe and interruption-free in a way that even Peter's apartments and Aunt May's house couldn't be. The architecture—and how it's changed—has been a large part of that symbolism, underappreciated as it sometimes is.

[lydia-too-late]

Hi there! Wanna know what kinda place you've stumbled into?

I'm a real, live human-person. She/her, creative dilettante, art dabbler, writing enthusiast.

I'm here for the writing and the vampires, mostly, but straying wildly off-topic is part of the fun. I often post my writing, much of it about an OC VtM character named Tula Redgrave, a Lasombra neonate and reluctant diablerista. You may find her here, and beneath the cut.

FULL NAME :: Talulah (Tula) Redgrave

APPARENT AGE :: 26 (embraced 2020)

ACTUAL AGE :: 31 (born 1995)

Important Note: Self Control is set in 2026

CLAN :: Lasombra 

SIRE :: Evelyn Astor. Blonde, perfectly coiffed, perfectly dressed, sharp bones, sharp eyes, sharp bearing; embraced 1930s, in her late 40s or early 50s. (She’s not the type of woman you’d dare to ask.) Widowed young in her mortal life, Evelyn presumably caught the eye of her sire by being the era-rare businesswoman who went fiercely toe-to-toe with her male contemporaries. Evelyn never offered Tula much insight into her past, her powers, or her personal philosophies beyond Never Lose. She’s Lasombra. Who really wants to revisit all of those betrayals? 

HAVEN :: An elderly woman’s apartment. A moment of weakness for Tula, and a door to the sublime for the owner, Ethel. The body is gone, and the bills are (presumably) autopaid from an unknown account. Eviction notices have been regularly appearing on the door, and it appears Tula’s time at Ethel’s place is running out.

STATUS :: Tula has been in Las Alturas for about seven months. For much of that time, she was only very loosely affiliated with kindred society, working as a bartender for Salvator Santos, ghoul to a prominent local Anarch (Miel, the “Party Baron”). She now works directly for Miel, doing odd jobs: protection, message-delivering, information-finding.

Porcelain doll, but make it tomboy. Average height and thin frame, with enough lean muscle on her limbs to suggest some athleticism in her mortal life. Hungry cheekbones, full lips. Resting scowl-face. Some nonspecific and irrelevant European heritage: pale skin, a fading scatter of freckles, sun-starved red hair in lazy, haphazard curls. Mostly casual fits and no makeup, but she’s not against being better turned-out for special occasions, especially if someone else is willing help. (Again. Lasombra.) Overall, there’s a sense of rawness in her bearing and demeanor, of potential unrealized.

LIKES

:: The inhale and exhale of waves against a shore, the lure of potential in a far horizon.

:: The three photos she still has of herself, taken prior to her embrace, the edges grown soft from handling. 

:: Bass, the kind that splits deep, like a primal echo, like the shudder of life in her slumbering cells. 

:: Baths. Hot water warming her skin.

DISLIKES

:: Bartending. (You’d like her to smile? If only you knew how sharp her teeth were, you wouldn’t ask.)

:: Fluorescent lighting. The pallor of her skin. The anemic shadows. The diseased-looking kine. What was bad with mortal eyes has become intolerable with vampire ones. 

:: Toreadors. They are the worst. 

:: You’ve heard this story before. Poor little rich girl. Perhaps Tula wasn’t real rich, not fuck you rich. She shouldn’t have had any complaints. Both parents were doctors, both smart, capable, distant. Why they chose to have a child is a mystery; no one involved appeared to take much pleasure in the arrangement. The memories of her childhood - the trips, events, holidays - consist of being surrounded by disinterested adults offering tight, tense smiles. A series of shifting backdrops for her solitude. 

:: Typical high school boyfriend, typical college break-up. A prestigious grad school meant perpetual stress: keen loneliness, the specter of inadequacy. Pills. First occasionally, then persistently.

:: How she attracted the attention of Dr. Astor — Evelyn — in this state, she’s not sure. What started as a professional relationship rapidly turned personal; soon she had no secrets, no time or interest to devote to anything but her mentor and their work. Tula’s memories of the the night she was embraced are painful and confusing. She knows she suffered. She knows Evelyn laughed to see it. She knows the wretched pit of emptiness already existing within fractured deeper, went darker, and grew teeth.

:: Evelyn was precariously Camarilla, still earning their trust, and as a result, she was obsessive about Tradition and Decorum. Any misstep on Tula’s part was a threat to her standing, and she never let it be forgotten.

:: To become a recognized member of the Atlanta Camarilla, the Prince tasked Tula with the hunting and killing of a Tzimisce infiltrator within their city - a test for both her personal loyalty, and the “quality” of her Sire’s bloodline. She was given three nights.

:: On the second night, Tula found and fought the Tzimisce, an alien-tall, long-limbed, long-tongued creature named Luna. She should have lost that fight. Yet miraculously, when vitae spilled in terrible abundance, it wasn’t hers. Tula couldn’t resist — she drank and drank, unthinking, beastly, until she’d consumed Luna’s essence. 

:: Evelyn and the Prince were horrified by the diablerie. The act was primitive, base, corrupting. Soul-level soiled by Luna’s Tzimisce blood, Tula was a mongrel, unfit for their society. She was banished from the city and disowned by her sire. It was mercy not to kill her, they said, but no one expected her to survive long on her own anyway.

:: (Important note for the future: Evelyn had killed at least two of her childer prior to Tula. Unbeknownst to Tula, their bloodline is particularly inclined to diablerie, and more specifically, the diablerie of one’s own sire. It is likely that it traces back to Sybil, the only woman embraced by Lasombra himself, though all of these facts are murky, debatable.) 

:: For a little over a year, Tula meandered westward, broken and haunted. Surviving, but barely. Tortured by Luna’s memories of her Sabbat pack and their animal companionship, projected like dreams throughout her daysleep. 

:: Las Alturas was land’s end, the very edge of the hemisphere on the banks of the broad Pacific. Nowhere else to go. Skittish, bitter, mistrusting, she got a bartending job at a ghoul-owned bar named Otros and laid low. It felt like waiting. She didn’t know for what. 

:: When a kindred called Silk dropped a parcel by Otros, she recognized them from her dreams: Luna’s favored packmate, her most beloved. The possessive, obsessive feelings, the bloodbonded intimacy. Tula was overwhelmed by it. Silk, too, sensed something magnetic in Tula, and after only a few interactions they were inseparable. Is it the blood? Is it real? Are those things mutually exclusive? 

:: Tula must, in the near future, tell Silk about Luna. Was Luna, via dream-memory, nudging Tula toward her former packmate, delivering this diablerist into the arms of revenge? Was Luna simply tormenting Tula with memories of love and belonging, because -- despite all of her privilege and opportunities -- it was something she never had? Is this obsession all Tula’s own doing, the result of her fundamental inability to practice restraint? To what extent is Tula’s free will impacted by Luna’s blood? And how much does it even matter?

:: Tune in next week. Or next month. Or whenever we figure it out. 

[seastarblue]

Tumblr Games: OC Prompts: Character Profile

thanks for the tag @bardic-tales here !

Rules: Answer the prompts for an OC—buttttt I kinda wanna do the interview style again! Partway at least. Gotta work on them character voices, ya know?

So I’m already making profiles for my OCs, but I figured it might be fun to do one for an OC I wasn’t planning on profiling:

✨Saffron✨

Let’s go!

———

Full name? “Saffron of Gentlebright. At least that’s the one easiest to pronounce for humans.”

Age? “Er… maybe… 450…? Give or take a few decades— I’ve lost count. Whoopsie!”

Gender? “Gender? I hardly know her! HAHAHA! You can use she/her for me though.”

Species? “A ✨fairy✨.”

Appearance: Saffon is a short (nO im NOT), red headed fairy with bright yellow eyes and shimmering purple dragonfly wings. She’s got a collection scars here and there.

Occupation? “I’m the captain of the Fifth Order.”

Family:

Spouse? “None. Never was one for romance!”

Parents? “…No.”

Siblings? “…also no.”

Best Friends? Tell me a bit about them!

“Alrighty! First and foremost, we’ve got Aris! Aris min Qultaar, if we’re being specific. He’s my partner-in-justice! Now as for the rest of my team: I love them equally—some are just… more equal than others, HAH! Like, uh, Nero di Accardi, Thannis of Spring, Tembris Quicksilver, and Percival Whitlock.”

Pets? “No, but I did have a cat called… Baby Kitty. He died :(“

Describe your room? “Ah, there’s not much. A bed, nice soft blue sheets, it’s got holes in the mattress for my wings—I tuck em in, don’t want them to get crushed, ya know—I’ve got a nice little nightstand that Thannis carved for me with some knickknacks Aris gifted me. I don’t spend enough time in there to really decorate.”

Way of Speaking: Saffron’s speaking style wildly changes depending on who she’s talking to. With her team, it’s casual, easy, gentle at times. With superiors, it’s formal, tense, very eloquent. With criminals… well let’s just say she doesn’t stop to chat much.

Physical Characteristics: Apart from what was listed above, Saffron has white diamond shaped pupils, and blue blood, as she is a Fae.

Items in your bag RIGHT NOW: “Oh, uh, let’s see… a knife, some food, a broken pencil, another knife, some vials of potion, and… another broken pencil. Who put those in there…?”

Hobbies: Sparring, planting, dancing, writing, interrogating people

Favorite Sport: “Hm… I’m a fan of wingball, but I don’t play often.” (Wingball is just football but in the air)

Abilities: Saffron has a lie detecting ability, as she is a fairy. She also has some very good Glamor skills, as well as mean Fire magic.

Relationships:

Her team: very good! :>

Lloyd Santhuff: very bad :<

Vivirette Hawthorne: she thinks the noble is weird.

Fears: She fears losing her entire team without being able to do anything. It’s a very real fear… also slugs.

Faults: She tends to freeze up, which isn’t a good quality to have as a leader. She also has a problem with taking things seriously—she doesn’t.

Good Points: Saffron is very honest (not by choice—long story, still counts), and she’s very good at giving advice, having lived for literal centuries (don’t make me feel old :[ )

What they want more than anything else: all Saffron wants is to be free to keep them safe.

———

phew this took a while. Note that you don’t have to answer as an OC, just for one!

Tag game list! Lemme know if you want on/off via DM or ask!:

@sableglass @vsnotresponding @dioles-writes

@paeliae-occasionally @astor-and-the-endless-ink @allaboutmagic

[simtleman]

We finally have a tenant for the red/pink apartment, y'all! Like I said before and by the looks of it, I felt like that apartment had to be owned by a young, single little lady. One of those crazy flappers one could see hanging around town at indecent times at night, smoking from their thin cigarette holders and dancing to the Charleston like there's no tomorrow!

One does not have to be too bright to see she's clearly inspired by Sally Bowles from Cabaret. And yes, she'll have green nails as an homage to the one and only Liza Minnelli. Don't be fooled by her million simoleon looks, though: she comes from the wrong side of the tracks, most of her jewels are rhinestones and the few expensive items she owns came from admirers and suiters from the speakeasy she works at as a showgirl... for 5 simoleons an hour. Yikes!

Now, I'd like you to help me picking up a name for her. I'm in between a few choices: