#discouraging the duke

[suguwu]

something something everyone calling you the duchess long before you and wriothesley end up in a relationship

[kirain]

I decided to make adult designs and "where are they now" stories for all the child tieflings who are confirmed to survive to Act 3.

Unbeknownst to her, Arabella was a latent sorcerer with a natural connection to the Weave. Her powers likely would've manifested at puberty, but touching the idol of Silvanus imbued her with wild druid magic, multiclassing her prematurely. This caused an internal struggle between the two powers, which threatened to rip her and anyone around her apart. Fortunately, with Withers' guidance, she set out to follow the Weave and found balance in her new, strange abilities. For years she traveled Faerûn alone, honing her skills and making peace with her past. Eventually, she became known as the "Wondering Storm", so attuned to nature some would mistake her for Silvanus' Chosen. Those who crossed her, however, would swear she was Jergal's Chosen; able to end a life with a single stare. Though not unkind, Arabella became feared by many for her stoic personality, mysterious presence, and peculiar command of the Weave. It seemed that wherever she was needed, she would inexplicably be.

Though Raphael went silent, Mol continued to enjoy, and perhaps abuse, the gifts from her patron. With the Absolute defeated, she quickly clawed her way up the ranks of the Guild, eventually becoming a pseudo ward to Nine-Fingers Keene. For years she would sharpen her skills, mentored by Keene and her most trusted associates, until she challenged the notorious crime lord to a duel for leadership. Much to her surprise, Keene lost, and was therefore forced to relinquish command to the young tiefling. Seeing the move as a betrayal, however, the Guild's loyalty was split, causing the criminal powerhouse to fracture. This led to a dark time for the Guild, with many in Baldur's Gate referring to it as the "Outlaw Civil War". Much blood was shed during this conflict, but eventually Mol turned the tides in her favour, running Keene and those still loyal to her out of the city. She would go on to rebuild the Guild in her image, successfully and more fearsome than ever; though, when she approached her old colleagues with an invitation to join, they all declined.

Once he managed to enter the city, Mattis tried to find his companions from the Grove, but he ultimately turned his sights to conning rich families with "panaceas from the hells". For a while, he flourished under this racket, until his scheme was exposed by jealous competition. This led to him being violently assaulted by angry customers, nearly ending his life—he only survived by rolling into a rapid canal. After being saved by a kind, impoverished couple who fished him out of the water, he spent nearly three months confined to a bed. His recovery was slow and agonizing, but hardly discouraging. Instead of succumbing to his misery, he took the time to plot his revenge. With the couple's help, he learned the laws of the land and revived his strength. Then, when able, he cut his hair, disguised his face, spied on the man who wronged him, and subsequently tricked him into signing his business over to the couple. Together, they turned the questionable business into something respectable. Mostly. Mattis' silver tongue finally became an asset, rather than a survival tactic, though he was never above a good swindle.

Ide and Umi took up arms during the Absolute's attack on the city, each of them basking in the action. Realising that Umi had developed an insatiable bloodlust, and itching for more battles herself, Ide suggested they enlist into the army. Though technically too young, the new General—appointed by High Duke Ravengard after the fall of the Absolute—accepted them as apprentices until they came of age.

Though their time with the Flaming Fist was imperative to their training and survival, they found the rules and hypocrisy of the troop disheartening, and even more so when the General died. Eventually they deserted, leaving Baldur's Gate entirely and starting a small band of vigilantes. To some, they were a menace. To others, they became heroes of the Sword Coast. No matter the case, Ide and Umi were inseparable, never seen apart.

Inspired by his saviours, Mirkon continued to write stories about his time in the Grove and his rescue from the harpies. He never found his parents, but he refused to live in the slum's orphanage. Life was hard for the young tiefling, often forcing him to grovel for food and coin. On the worst days, he found comfort turning his stories into songs, which he slowly morphed into a semi-profitable street act. This eventually caught the attention of Alfira, who one day happened to be passing by. Recognising his talent, and overjoyed to be reunited, she took him in and taught him how to play the violin. Together, they created a lucrative show that expanded well beyond the Elfsong Tavern, which aided Alfira in opening her dream college. She and Lakrissa would soon adopt Mirkon, and he would later become one of the most beloved and celebrated instructors at the college.

Though working as a hawker for the Baldur's Mouth kept Silfy fed and relatively sheltered, she grew listless. Dealing with rude and racist customers hardened her enough to snap back, resulting in her termination. With nowhere to go, she found herself wandering into Ramazith's Tower, where she implored Rolan for a job. Feeling for her plight, Rolan put her to work stocking shelves and filling orders. It wasn't exciting work, but she was safe and satisfied, until one day a customer's tome exploded, causing a flurry of rainbow flames that whirled into the shape of a unicorn. This event, though frightening, would inspire Silfy to start reading the books in the shop, with the help of Tolna and Rolan. To everyone's surprise, she proved to have an impressive aptitude for magic, and she soon found herself enthralled. Within just a few years, Silfy would be accepted into Blackstaff Academy, where she would excel in her studies and catch the eye of the great Vajra Safahr. She would offer Silfy a position in the school, as well as a mentorship, but Silfy would politely decline, graduate, and return to Bauldr's Gate. Her true home.

[controld3vil]

chaotic duo

pairing(s): dune cast x actor!reader (platonic), oscar isaac x actor!reader

synopsis: requested by this ask!

⤷ alt: even your on-screen son can't deny how delightful his on-screen parents were.

notes: absolutely no shade to rebecca ferguson i adore her too much. reader is considered to have fem pronouns. ALSO ive been feeling iffy about trying to write for dune characters?? personally, although i love writing these actor!reader stories, writing for the actual characters i feel would be more challenging. dune's still pretty new to me but i kinda wanna give it a shot if i can make a good storyline T-T

It all started with the Dune Cast Q&A brought together by Nerdist. Timothee Chalamet and Denis Villeneuve had just finished chatting with the host, Stephen Colbert about their perspectives on Paul's character. Much emphasis had gone on the young actor's performance. And Denis's decision to cast such a well-experienced one.

After finishing up their last question together, Stephen decides to introduce two additional members. "Timothee let's bring out the man and the woman who play your parents, Duke Leto Atreides and Lady Jessica." A transition between screens to display your camera view and Oscar's. He introduces both your names.

"Hi!" You grin at the camera, comfortably leaning against one of the arms of your chair. Similar to everyone else's backdrop, yours was pitch gray, covering all but your silhouette and chair.

"Hey Stephen," Oscar greets at ease, as you proceed to wave to each of the people seen onscreen.

It cuts immediately to the host gesturing in continuation for a question. "Tell me and the audience about Duke Leto Atreides. What do we need to know?"

"He's the father and human. I think that's the biggest thing and uh under incredible pressure to save his family. Save his house but to adapt to this new existential threat situation which is moving to this strange planet," Your fellow costar puts into short. Short and concise was what was expected.

Content with his answer, Stephen moves the attention to you. He calls out your name, eagerly. "Rereading the books uh- right now, I am struck by how much of the story- uh the backstory and the action story is driven by the decisions Lady Jessica makes." A smile grows on your face, knowing how much fun was a character to play for you.

Along his last few words, you find yourself nodding in agreement. "I'm impressed with that you, Stephen actually read the books again!" An instant grin comes from the said man. "But it's all applause to Denny- he highlighted this from the book. In the film, her decisions basically create, fractures and disrupts everything."

"Best parents ever," In a low whisper, Timothee murmurs and the five of you burst into short chuckles and snickers.

"The best you could ever have!" You clapped your hands together, shaking them above your head in victory. And when the screen expands to show everyone's reactions, the audience can noticeably pinpoint Oscar's playful eye-rolling.

Another fun interview you had the pleasure of sharing was with Grazia UK. It was in a more comfortable setting. With you and Oscar in a lounge room, with the Zoom camera on. While the female interviewer complimenting a kind smile.

"Can I ask you something," Not within a second of the conversation, you rose up with a peculiar question. "Do you remember his beard?" Your costar beside you, looks away in disappointment. Even raising his hand to emphasize his discouraged state.

"A bit yes..."

"Yeah,"

"Yes!"

"Why? It was an impressive beard," Sort of clueless really, the interviewer says, of why you wanted to the topic up.

"Yeah, it was impressive!" Oscar looks back and forth between you and the camera, directing towards the woman on the other side. While you shriveled in embarrassment, leaning your head behind his shoulder, with a few snorts of laughter. "She doesn't even remember if I had a beard or not in the movie! She just saw it."

"Quite a prominent beard!"

"Yes yes, well I can remember so much," You chaste, leaning closer, locking eyes with your costar. Threatening really in a playful way.

"We shot together for a few months! How could you not remember?!" He exclaims, raising both his hands in the air in exasperation. You puff, adorning a pouty-like look.

"I work with what's in front of me," you turn to address the interviewer, pointing at Oscar accusingly. Because much contrast to what he looked months ago, he no longer had that impressive beard. He was clean-shaven, much to your display.

Next to you, Oscar scoffs. "Apparently not!" Bumping shoulders with you as you fought back, poking him many times obnoxiously.

You both later discussed a provoking quote referenced multiple times from Dune posters. Fear is the mind killer. Truly a simple yet intriguing phrase that fitted well with the film. And in generally, you and Oscar compared each others quotes from personal experience.

"I guess you could combine them together," Taking a sip out of your glass, you eyed at Oscar. He hums back and smooths his hands comfortably down his hips.

"It will pass and love prevails!" He cheerfully expresses. Even from afar, the interviewer can notice how much fun you two were having with the question.

"Right and, it plays perfectly with the film," You add onto your little spiel, nodding as you go, "Besides the fact that- you know, fear is the mind killer."

The male actor lets out a long sigh. "Makes you forget how violent the movie is."

On the other side of the screen, the blonde interviewer shrugs her shoulders. "Well- it's only included in small parts in the movie."

It was your turn to hum, dragging out the M sound. "I think maybe the film focusses too much on romance."

A caught off cough comes from Oscar as he tries to his best to dismiss his your sarcastic comment. "I feel like there should've been more of it."

"Really?!" The shot pans to your exaggerated shocked gaze. You then turn to look at the interviewer. "He has no idea how to write a movie." Instantaneously the male actor bursts out laughing, shaking his head back and forth in little denial. Even you couldn't hold it together and giggled a little.

"You play Timothee's parents so spent a lot of time with him. What is the most interesting thing we do not about Timothee Chalamet?" The interviewer prompts, having their arms supported on top the their desk with pure keenness.

Pursing your lips together in concentration, your attention turns towards your partner. "Well coming from me- I mean I don't know if people know this about him or not- but he's very open hearted." Oscar continues, "And me, having to play his father- hence the beard!"

"Ah!" Giving more emphasis, you raised your brow in recollection.

He goes on comparing the analogy of having to play Duke Leto as a powerful leader of a House. Without his people and court, he wouldn't resemble much of an prestige leader. However Oscar later mentions that Timothee's performance was the catalyst to their relationship look authentic. He is young yet incredibly sympathetic towards what's to be done for the film. His time with both of you really sold your relationship as a family, you'd think.

"So that's a very generous thing to do for a young actor. And I was impressed and admired that," In the background, you can be heard mumbling in agreement. Your partner shifts his posture, facing and expecting you to go next.

Licking your lips, you took one last glance at him before focusing strictly at the Zoom camera. "I think for me, to have a young actor like him- he's very driven about it all. When he's on and off screen, Timothee's just focused- he's very serious and concentrates heavily on what Denny says- and I can say I respect that." You punctuate your point, tapping lightly on your knee. "And I play his mother you know, and I try to accommodate with that. I play along and we work until we find a good rhythm with each other." The older woman on the screen seemed enamored by your compliments regarding your costar. Yet her eyes quickly makes it's way to Oscar, sitting quietly and listening to you ramble.

His laidback posture showed how greatly he took your words in. You grab your glass and take a quick sip before hearing him say, "We raised him well." Taking your hand in both of his as a sign of pride.

A delightful chuckle comes from both you and the interviewer while your partner gives a satisfied grin. "We really did!"

The media did not need proof to know of your enjoyed time during the production of Dune. In fact, multiple vlogs and documentaries about the film had fans and viewers alike become fond of your positive and laid back attitude about it all. Despite playing a calculating character such as Lady Jessica, you were nothing of serious when on screen with your costars.

"Welcome to Arrakis!" You popped into frame, wearing an exquisite dress, costumed by one of the designers. It was golden yellow with chains running down from the bottom half of your face to your chest. A faint veil covered your head but for right now, you had it placed on your hair. You spread your arms with anticipation for the cameraman to pan around your surroundings. "It's sunny today so I think we'd be out here for some time." You moved extremely close to the camera, before moving out of the frame to the side.

Abu Dhabi was bliss. The production and crew worked diligently day and night working in the deserts. And on this particular day, most of the cast had been present as well for the introduction of House Atriedes on Arrakis.

A few shots slowly pans from the crew's tents and Denny far into the sandy mountains as he speaks with Timothee. Another shot slyly captures you showing Josh Brolin an unknown video, sideways. Which somehow made him cackle very enthusiastically, holding his stomach to air as you quickly pat his back multiple of times. In all, everyone of the cast members were having a blast in the dry outskirts of the unknown.

"Hello," Brolin pops in another clip where he stands, wearing the Atreides armor. Under a massive shade area, a few people can be spotted in the background, moving equipment and conversing with others. From afar, the people filming the documentary can be heard presenting a few questions for him to touch upon. "Ah what do I think about Lady Jessica being played by," He says your name sincerely.

The video cuts to you having a conversation with your on and screen husband. A hand covering above your face to shield yourself from the sun, while Oscar tries to move where the light is hitting you as the best he could.

"I mean a phenomenal actor like her playing in that kind of role is guaranteed to have an amazing performance. She's- We've known each for a long time since Sicario and with Denny," The male actor softly grins, staring at where you were. "But Oscar on the other hand, eh- not so much." His tone becoming monotonous, as if the shift in topic was distasteful to the touch.

"Whatcha say, Gurney?!" A scream echoes and it's Oscar, cupping both his hands into an O.

The older actor couldn't keep it together before breaking into frivolous giggles. "Nothing, my lord!" He takes one last glance back before seeing you give him two big thumbs up with a silly smirk. "No in all seriousness, those two are just the best! You can never have a bad day with them."

Another prominent section in the video fans adored was with the actors that played Duncan Idaho and Dr. Liet Kynes. This time they are situated in what looked like the structure of Arrakeen. Where all ornithopters were supposedly stationed and the introduction of Dr. Kynes.

"They're so mom and dad," Jason Momoa shaking his head playfully with his hands clamped together. Both him and Sharon Duncan-Brewster wore still suits unlike many other extras who wore Atreides armor. "I mean- they're playing Paul's parents- but in real life it's just so different."

"Definitely more chaotic," Brewster jumps in, earning a hum from her costar. "They act nothing like them."

A cool shot from different location displays you in a dark with Timothee. It was the scene after Paul is put to test to by the Reverent Mother. It was a chilling scene yes, but in post production, many realize how unprofessional you sometimes were even in the most serious times.

The cameras were not live however the film crew were about to pan to you gesturing back and forth with your on-screen son. It was a interactive and intriguing conversation you both were having. You looking in purely engaged with what the French actor was saying. After a few sentences being spoken, it looked as though you chided a teasing joke which gave the reaction of Timothee slightly snickering, backing away slowly.

"I mean do they look like my parents? No," The young actor states shortly. It looked as though the clip was shot right after capturing your cute moment togehter. "But I'd say- yeah Oscar Isaac's a great actor and- to be able to play my dad is pretty cool. Even though we look nothing alike." Nervous laughter spouts as he clears his throat.

"I feel like I get the resemblances from my mom though," Affectionately stating your name, "You can tell where I got my powers, good looks from." Momentarily readjusting his collar as he takes a quick look from behind, knowing your footsteps.

"See? I'm the favorite parent!" In hushed squeal, you wrapped your hands around Timothee's shoulders, earning a lovable grin back.

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, brief mentions of violence, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 10: rough patch

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Breakfast is peaceful enough, you changed rooms last night and got a decent by your standards sleep. Damian's half asleep in his cereal and dukes speedily trying to finish a test between bites of his egg sandwich. It's weirdly domestic to you as Bruce gives you a cup of coffee and your medication and then takes a seat by you. Once again you feel out of place, like you've stolen something from someone else. but you don't show it. Weakness is not tolerable.

Unfortunately, peace never lasts.

“heyyy look who's alive and kicking around the place again!” To your absolute horror, you're dragged out of your chair and hugged tightly from behind by some loud mouthed-

“Dick we've talked about this…let em go chum.” Bruce quickly stands and tries to separate you from the hug, thank God, you could almost kiss the man when you're released. Suppressing a shiver at the unprompted affection, disgusting.

Duke Snickers into his food while Damian tries to cover up a snort by clearing his throat and shoving a bite of cereal in his mouth, traitorous children. You suppress a scowl as you turn to face your attacker - your hugger.

“come on I'm just happy they're still kicking and recovering, how're you doing operater?” Dick sets his hands on your shoulders as he speaks, he's far too touchy for your taste, but his words catch your attention more than his body language.

“operater?”

The room goes quiet for a moment, dicks hands tensing just a touch before he smiles and pulls you in once again. “It's a nickname you had, cuz y'know, you helped operate Wayne charity foundations like you were running the Navy. It's a lil inside joke.”

This time you're the one wriggling out of the hug, what part of ‘you're a stranger to the amnesiac’ does he not get? “You're telling me i was running those events? Why would i do that and not just hire a planner.” You sit back down in the chair, hopefully it'll discourage anymore cuddle attacks.

“I've actually said the same exact thing to you, guess you liked being the boss?” Bruce snorts beside you as dick speaks, Dick tosses himself into a nearby chair and starts making grabby hands at Damian's cereal.

“I'm going to pretend that didn't just come out of your mouth, right in front of my coffee. thanks.”

You grab the hot coffee and down a few sips before popping your medicine, that sounded a little too much like an innuendo to not royally piss you off. This entire…. Thing is gonna test your patience like never before, you swear.

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Bruce went to his office and Mr pennyworth left to drop the two boys off so you're alone in the manor, having shaken Dick off enough times until he himself had to leave back to whatever it is he does, you bet he's a cop or a gym teacher or something.

With free reign, you start snooping. First thing you note is how clean the place is as you wander from the kitchenette towards the event hall, props to the old man where it's due, The place is relatively spotless from floor to ceiling.The second thing you notice is all the damn hidden cameras.

your hand drags across piano keys in the otherwise silent hall, it's dust free and even tuned, for some reason the perfection of the place angers you just as much as the lack of privacy. Makes you think the Wayne's are too…superficial, the avengers tower wasn't even this perfect. There's a tiny blinking red dot in the eye of the gargoyle sculpture nestled in the corner of the room, letting you know that the mask can't slip even when you're alone. someone's watching. you close the fall board and wander to the next area.

The bedrooms aren't that interesting, the unoccupied ones all look the same, smell the same, beige walls and dark bedding. The occupied ones look like stereotypical teen boy rooms, messy bedspreads and posters on the walls. video game consoles, paint supplies, old films, at least these rooms look lived in, imperfect. The next bedroom makes you freeze in your tracks, the familiar vanity and ballet flats makes unease churn in your gut, how'd you see the exact setup in your…. You close the door quickly. The dreams are meaningless and you won't ponder on them for longer than necessary. You take mental note of the large computer set up in one of the other rooms and move on to a different area.

You're back in the library now, your legs are starting to ache from all the walking you've done, you'll have to work on your agility and stamina in this body for sure. Plopping down on a leather sofa you grab at one of the books on the table in front of you and flip it over to read the title, realizing this is the book Jason was flipping through yesterday when the bookmark slips out of it, guess he's a fan of Mary Shelley. The grandfather clock against the wall chimes loudly and you scowl at it before hauling yourself up and slowly leaving the dusty room, you could use a nap right about now.

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It's late when you're woken up, the butler knocks loudly on your door until you answer him.

“Master Wayne? You missed dinner. Would you like me to bring it up to you?”

You grunt as you rub at your face, before remembering that that doesn't count as an answer.

“No, I'll come down myself…. Will anyone else be there?” the silent ��is my husband waiting?’ goes unsaid, but not unheard.

The butler doesn't answer for a moment, the creaking of floorboards telling you he's shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“…no, the children are at friends houses tonight, Cass is at her dance practice and master Bruce is dealing with an emergency at work. It is just us two tonight.”

“Oh, alright. I hope it's not a serious emergency…is everything good at work?” you act concerned, curiosity bleeding into your voice as you untangle yourself from the sheets and go to open the door.

“Nothing of the sort, there is just an issue with an incorrect filing mishap and mismatched records. Nothing worth worrying about.” Alfred steps out of the way when you open the door and turns to lead you to the kitchenette.

You know for a damn fact that Bruce's position in the company doesn't have him dealing with paperwork issues, your best guess is an affair partner that pennyworth is covering up. Of course the rich guy is cheating on his spouse, at least you don't have to entertain conversations with him over dinner…. Though it would have been nice to have a buffer between you and the butler. He definitely doesn't trust you as much as your husband seems to.

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“anything new you can tell me about the phone.” barbara turned towards bruce when she heard him speak,the glow of her monitors casting her in a greenish glow as she turned her wheelchair.

“well, i don’t have access to their files or their systems anymore. just their location when it pings off cell towers.” barb leaned back and picked up her bag of chips while speaking, eyeing bruce up while he paces her floor, his cape swishing quietly behind him. “the decoding technique you saw before the shut out?” bruce doesn’t look at her as he speaks, his gaze focused on the stained glass above their heads.

barb loudly crunches on a chip as she turns her chair back towards the monitors, wiping her hands clean before she pushes her glasses up her nose. “strange, for them i mean. they didn’t go through the standard coding channels or even the normal hardware wiping techniques, i’ve been doing some research on the dark and back channels and i still haven’t seen anything quite like it.” she offers him a chip.

bruce walks closer to her and wordlessly takes the offered snack, glancing down at barb as he digests that information.

“so…they’re not associated with any known hackers?” barb gives him a sharp look. “B, are you thinking your spouse is a plant?” he shakes his head slowly, glancing away from barb before he continues. “no, no not at all. i just….can’t ignore something strange in my home, even if it’s *them.”*

barb looks down at her lap with a pensive look on her face for a moment, glancing back up at him with thinned lips as she bites her inner lip.

“i’m still scrubbing through the dark, you’ll be the first to know if i find anything that sets off alarms.”

bruce nods once, turning with a dramatic flair of his cape as he turns to leave.

“B.” barbara called out to him before he disappears, turning her wheelchair around to face him again as he pauses midstep. “just don’t get too caught up in your theories yet, they’re still the same person that walked into that gala with you.” bruce resumes walking after barb speaks, disapearing into the darkest part of the clocktowers room.

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M.list | prev | next

A/n: ruh roh readers jumping to conclusions about Bruce's late night disappearances. Wonder how that'll go 👀👀👀

Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet

[twistedpink]

Maybe some Boyfriend!Epel hc with małe/masc presenting reader if that's okay? Happy valentines day btw, I Hope you're spending it well!! 💗

Thx for being my first request of the window! Hope I did this justice, I’ve always been very fem lol

Reader has those boy eyelashes

Boyfriend!Epel LOVES that you’re so masculine, how’d he get such a cool boyfriend? He shows you off all the time to his friends and family- There’s nobody on sage island that doesn’t know about your relationship, and that’s how he likes it!

Boyfriend!Epel learns to live for leaving marks on you,,, When he’s more comfortable with his own identity it’s not uncommon to find lipstick or patches of concealer on your face and neck. He basically vibrates when you walk into class looking all disheveled- That’s his man!!

Boyfriend!Epel likes to feel masculine in your relationship, too! He loves feeling useful, so when you look at him through your pretty lashes (if you’ve ever SEEN a teenage boy yk what I’m saying) just to say please, babe? he folds HARD. Or maybe you’re the type to fight for responsibility? No problem, you’ve got a great couch to duke it out on!

Boyfriend!Epel that, even when you clash and argue, really loves you. Down to his core, he cares to a fault. So whenever you’re in trouble he’s sprinting to the scene- Whether you need an accomplice or an alibi, he’s right there to help you get away with murder! With how many fights you’ve started in the dorm, Vil hates how passionately you defend each other. But he’s no monster, even he can admit it’s romantic - If not a tad crude, and lovingly discourages your “pissing contests”.

Boyfriend!Epel loves to make your own fun, and he’s got enough energy for two! You guys get into devastating shenanigans- But what’s the staff to do when you’re the picture of innocence if you’re accused? Epel uses his looks a lot to get out of trouble (much to his delight- expect the unexpected ig) and you’re his biggest sucker <3 How’re you supposed to resist when he’s so pretty???

Boyfriend!Epel’s built to be boyfriend material,, He’s so in love with you that it’s impossible to just be fleeting, so you’d better treat him right! Your relationship’ll never be half assed, and he’s going for the finish line- no matter who walks down the aisle <3

[sunderwight]

Thinking about the weird camaraderie that exists between demons but not angels in GO.

Have we ever seen two angels who are actually friends? Or even friendly to one another? We have met angels with a capacity to be friendly in general, but I think the closest we've come to two angels actually getting along would be Gabriel making a point to laugh at Sandalphon's terrible "can't have a war without War" line in S1.

Most scenes between the angels actually seem to have an undercurrent of absolute hostility. Teeth-clenched teamwork. No wonder it took them so long to notice that Aziraphale wasn't on the same page as the rest of them! The rest of them are barely on the same page as one another, either! When Gabriel goes against the majority vote, no one bats an eye at demoting him and wiping his memory. Michael and Uriel immediately begin vying for his job. The only times we've seen angels team up is when they're working together to bully someone else, like when they're trying to intimidate Aziraphale in S1 or going to the aftermath of the bookshop raid in S2.

Saraqael's overall neutrality towards Muriel is the closest we get to two angels in Heaven getting along, and it's more a lack of hostility than any kind of friendliness. At least until Gabriel loses his memories and Muriel shows up to spy on Aziraphale, and Aziraphale decides to be kind to both of them.

Demons, on the other hand, actually seem to form alliances and even friendships among one another. Hastur and Ligur are awful, but Hastur seems genuinely distraught over Ligur's death, not just fearful of suffering the same fate. Shax and Furfur conspire together and even though the 1940's investigation into Crowley's fraternizing doesn't work out for Furfur, it's not due to any double-crossing on Shax's part. Unlike the angels, who stick almost exclusively to making threats until the Metatron decides to try dangling a carrot at the end of the season, demons actually offer rewards to other demons when trying to work together. Beelzebub offers Crowley a promotion if he can bring them Gabriel, Furfur offers to back Shax up politically if she goes for the Duke position opening, and Crowley successfully stalls Hastur in S1 by pretending everything was a test and he's going to be put in charge of a legion as a reward for passing. They're still not great at socializing, but they're significantly ahead of the angels.

Of course, it's a fact that demons are awful to one another (Eric's treatment is really bad, they throw that random demon into holy water just to test it, "it'd be a funny world if demons went around trusting one another", etc) but they still seem more capable of forming friendships than the angels do.

I think that's because Hell cramps and crowds everyone together to try and increase their suffering and hostility, whereas Heaven isolates angels to decrease the odds of questioning or rebellion. Hell's methods are unpleasant, but it still ends up putting demons together, and some of those demons inevitably forge alliances and make friendships. Because as Crowley and Beelzebub demonstrate, demons are still social creatures with the capacity for love and affection, even if it's strongly discouraged and buried under nine million layers of trauma and a cultural mandate against kindness.

Angels are the same, but isolation makes is harder to form connections than overcrowding. Muriel and Jimbriel are both so eager to make friends, but Muriel's spent the past millennia shut in an empty office, and Gabriel has been distanced from his peers both through his position and also through Heaven's culture of fear and surveillance. He only breaks away from it when he finds something that's stronger than "choosing sides" (stronger than the fear of being rejected by Heaven and Falling, in fact strong enough that Falling seems worth it if he gets to be with someone he loves). Both Muriel and Gabriel are only able to start forming connections when they're away from Heaven.

I just think it's interesting that demons, despite being supposedly devoid of love, have an advantage in forming relationships compared to angels. Angels are supposed to love, but have far fewer opportunities to actually do so. Demons aren't supposed to love, but they make connections anyway.

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕊𝕙𝕪 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hihi saw your req were still open so if you dont mind, may i request wrio and thoma with fem reader who is quiet and shy but loves to hug and cling onto them! And sometimes she talks and rants about her interests so much that she doesnt even realise then gets all shy again!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hello! Yeah! They were at the time you requested!

And helppp somehow I find it so similar yet a bit different from myself- Either way, I enjoyed writing it actually! So hopefully you'll like it as well! ^^

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Thoma definitely fell for your shyness but it actually doesn't mean at all he thought of you less when you began to get affectionate! In fact, he found that little break cute~

✧ it felt like he's your trustworthy person and he wasn't even thinking about letting that opinion down

✧ at the early stage of your relationship, when you were still more shy than affectionate, he was really supportive and reassuring! He'd initiate any small affections for you, like holding hands, hugs, etc...

✧ but when he started seeing signs of you opening up like initiating more and more acts and talking about more topics with him... he decided to not mention it as to kot discourage you, but it definitely melted his heart

✧ now, when you start to ramble, he literally stops anything he's doing just to look you on the eyes with that soft smile and nod his head with ocassional "mhm" to let you know he's listening to whatever you have to say to him

✧ same goes for affection actually! If you ask or initiate one, he's not gonna just decline!! So he immidietly returns and drops whatever he's doing if needed. If anything, the hug or so is just gonna be a bit shorter because he doe shave work after all...

"Why won't we go back to it another time? Don't get me wrong, I'm extremely happy you want to get this affectionate with me! But... I do need to clean Kamisato Estate... just give me an hour and I'll be at your disposal, okey?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your perfect malewife~

✧ at the beginning, Wriothesley may not be the one who looks soft towards shy people but he actually is a big sweetheart!

✧ the most he's gonna do is wrap an ark around your shoulder or eventually hold your hand, since he doesn't want to force you or make you uncomfortable

✧ but when you start opening up and show more affections, he learns what you are and what you're not comfortable with! So he initiates more acts, just like you!

✧ he's gonna support you no matter what, but when you're opening up slowly, he can't help but push his luck a little bit and drop one small teasing line

✧ if it makes you slow down drastically, he'll note to himself to never do that again tho...

✧ as for rambling... it all depends of the situation he's in right now. If he's busy with something at the moment, hell either listen you with one ear and ask you to repeat it later or he'll just ask you to move this conversation to another time

✧ BUT if he's not busy..!! Then he'll even make you two tea so you can sit enjoy your time as you ramble about anything that's on your mind

"Oh? Getting chatty are we~? No, no, it wasn't supposed to discourage you... I was actually interested in the topic."

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your teddybear duke~

[theunderestimator-3]

The Underestimator Mixtapes - Post Punk Dancefloor

Two hours of mostly-'80s post punk, new wave & funk/disco/jazz-related sounds guaranteed to spin you round like a record.

Available for online streaming on Mixcloud:

https://www.mixcloud.com/the-underestimator/the-underestimator-mixtapes-post-punk-dancefloor/

Download as separate mp3 tracks in a zip file on Mediafire or Mega:

https://www.mediafire.com/file/en6l3od3e3mci8x/THE+UNDERESTIMATOR+MIXTAPES+-+POST+PUNK+DANCEFLOOR.zip/file

[Don’t be alarmed if you are denied access: In case you get the error message “Permission Denied” prompting you to download a copyrighted song via Amazon or sth, you should be aware that this is a Mediafire trick to discourage you from downloading when the uploaded file includes copyrighted material, so they can appear legit in the eyes of the copyright holders. If you close the tab and try a couple of times or more, the link will eventually appear (don’t refresh the mediafire page, it doesn’t work that way, just open the link from the underestimator post to a new tab, then close it and re-open it in a new tab a couple of times or more).]

or

https://mega.nz/file/PuwCSBwJ#m4Ywwi9aRyvsiYZhIPB7YQBaUFrYYl_yJ4CSwFd46X8

Download some more playlists posted on The Underestimator Mixtapes series, here.

Lost In Music (Sister Sledge cover) – The Fall (1993)

Adolescent Sex – Japan (1978)

Heart Of Song – Josef K (1981)

Do The Du (Casse) – A Certain Ratio (1980)

We Got Soul - Big Boys (1982)

Shoot You Down – APB (1981)

Tear You Apart – She Wants Revenge (2005)

OBCT –Sleaford Mods (2020)

Heart & Soul - Joy Division (1980)

Optimo – Liquid Liquid (1983)

Same Beat – Marine (1982)

(secret track)

UFO – ESG (1981)

Wipeout Beat – Alan Vega (1983)

Nerve – Shriekback (1984)

Funky Stuff (Kool & The Gang cover) – Lizzy Mercier Descloux (1982)

The Comb – The Waitresses (1978)

You Fascinate Me – The Offs (1980)

Crosseyed & Painless – Talking Heads (1980)

Overpowered By Funk – The Clash (1982)

Black Arabs – Black Arabs (1979)

You’Re My Kind Of Climate – Rig Rig & Panic (1982)

Black Leather - Nightmares In Wax (1985)

Love Song – Simple Minds (1981)

Bostich – Yello (1981)

Der Mussolini – DAF (1981)

Some Aspects – Chain Of Command (1983)

The Night Watch – The Bellewether Syndicate (2012)

50:50 – Sad Lovers & Giants (1984)

I Found That Essence Rare – Gang Of Four (1979)

Super – NEU! (1973)

(Cover photo: dancing in the early-'80s at Duke’s in Austin, Texas, by Ben Desoto).

[spoonfulofmilo]

How do you feel about L 34 with fancy upper class male reader who also has an aristocratic title e.g. Duke, Earl, Marquess?

okay, im going to stop accepting requests in 29 hours (0:00 AEST 12 August) but I will finish the ones I have got over the next couple of weeks - at the latest by the time the Paralympics have finished. I'm so sorry they've taken so long :/

if you want to participate in my 300 followers event, look here :)

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

l - lewis hamilton x 34 - badminton!male!reader

A sir and an earl together

God

Honestly you were initially discouraged to participate in any sports

So you entered under lewis’ name

Got selected for the olympic team

And then honestly everyone just freaks

The fuck you mean an aristocrat is going to the olympics

Trying to discourage you from staying on the cardboard beds

But honestly it will support yours and lewis’ weight so you’re fine with it tbh

Bodyguards surrounding the both of you everywhere you go

Go and support simone biles besties!

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @anicega, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m

[the-eternal-child]

Just noticed something...

This part of Iron Flame noting how Riders are usually discouraged from politics and are discouraged from keeping their family seats.

Xaden's grandfather who was Sgaeyl's former rider was said to have died without making it out the quadrant. We know assassination attempts on students with powerful parents happens. So maybe this was an assassination carried out because of the power dynamics mentioned above. The future Duke of Aretia being a rider? Bonded to one of the strongest dragons out there?! It's what I'm thinking because why else mention the fact that he died while in the school? Info drops like these are purposeful.

My first question is timeline wise... WHEN did he have Fen 🤣🤣?!! I'm assuming he wasn't married since you can't get married until you leave... Unless he was married before entering the quadrant. Maybe marriages don't play that much of a part in the legitimacy of heirs for the Tyrrish 🤷🏾‍♀️.

Next question is, was this a case like Aaric? He found out what was going on and decided having a dragon would help the effort to fight the venin?

It brings me back to my questions in a previous post wondering about how much the Tyrrish know.

They're described through out the series as having been the last to join the unification, seen as troublesome or prone to unrest by Navarrian leadership, the Tyrs describe themselves as being 'loyal to their own' which makes me think of the kind of cultural identity people have when they're discriminated against...

It seems like the Tyrrish have been aware of the fate of the continent for a long time - or maybe only their leadership? They maybe have always had issues with Navarrian rulership decisions and being last to the party of unification and objecting to things would give them the reputation of being 'too proud' or 'thinking they're too good to submit to the king'.

Maybe Fen grew up being aware why his father died and decided to try another route to change. Let us become our own country so we can deal with this problem ourselves.

And the Navarrian top brass like Markham were just waiting to finally have a reason to drop the hammer on the Tyrrish people. Crushing a rebellion is one thing... But to raize a capital city to the ground?! A city described as having been beautiful?

Seems like a purposeful psychological blow to the people. Very publicly defame your beloved leader, take out almost everyone affiliated even loosely with the rebellion planning - Liam's father's execution even though he wasn't involved, and I bet he wasn't the only family member to get that treatment - they'd even wanted to execute the damn children! Cripple their financial centre by burning the capital, which would give them something else to focus on in the years to come, trying to rebuild their lives!

They humbled them, invalidated the claim they fought for, crippled them financially and painted a target on their back for the disdain of the rest of the kingdom. Amber Mavis was literally described as 'one of the good ones' because her family didn't take part in the rebellion!

Jesus fking christ!! Someone stop me! Cue 'make it stooooopp!!' screams like Jeremiah 😅😅

The more I think about this damn series the more insidious things start to look, the more glaring Navarre's crimes. The Tyrrish are entitled to freaking reparations man 😭😭!!!

[flowerandblood]

The Vanity and Variability

[ Jane Austen • Aemond x Baratheon • female ]

[ warnings: angst, mention of trauma, violence ]

[ description: Despite coming from a family with royal blood, Aemond is forced because of his brother's debts to choose one of the daughters of the famously wealthy general, Borros Baratheon, as his wife to save his family from bankruptcy. When he arrives to make his choice he is distraught and discouraged, made all the more so by watching from the sidelines his youngest daughter, who seems more intrigued by his dog than her possible future husband. Slow burn, sexual tension, regency and Jane Austen prose vibe, vain, self-righteous Aemond. ]

A story which is an alternative universe of The Impossbile Choice taking place in regency times (1805-1815). The characters are all the same as in the main series, however, for obvious reasons they will behave differently and experience things differently from medieval times. You can read this without having to delve into the main series.

Aemond & Miss Baratheon & Vhagar Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The Targaryen family name was one of the most famous and respected in London. His father's great-grandfather had been a duke, so royal blood flowed in them, and their family estate had been part of the kingdom for centuries.

He grew up with a sense of his own uniqueness, which his grandfather, his mother's father, Otto, constantly reminded him and his siblings of, remarking on their upbringing, their gait, the way they spoke. From an early age, everything they did was to testify to their origins and properly represent them to the world.

They were not allowed to run or shout, they were not allowed to eat with their hands, keep their elbows on the table, swear or laugh loudly. He was not allowed to play with other children, instead he was expected to keep reading and expanding his knowledge, and at the age of twelve he could already speak French and Italian as well.

And then, during one of the fencing training sessions with his nephew that his grandfather had forced him to do, he lost his left eye. Luke, enraged at his loss swung his sword as he managed to pull off his protection and the blade sliced his left cheek in half.

Having learned that he was not allowed to cry or scream, he howled and sobbed into his pillow all night, praying that his grandfather would not hear him.

Neither his position nor his wealth could change his appearance.

Although his father had a first-born son, his elder brother Aegon, everyone knew that he would have preferred the family estate to pass to his eldest daughter after his death, his only child, whom he had fathered with his first wife, who had died.

They had spent their entire lives in the shadow of his affections for her, simply existing in large palatial spaces, unsure if they were of any use to anyone at all. Knowing that he would inherit nothing, that he had only his name and his disfigured, ugly face, he hid in the world of literature, disappearing for hours in the library thus forgetting the woes of his life.

He knew that eventually he would be forced to marry a woman of similar status to himself.

When he first met the Countess Rivers, a wealthy widow much older than him, he thought she could become his wife, he even suggested it to his grandfather. He, however, laughed at his suggestion, saying that this woman had only married the Count for money and had tricked her way into his bed and then deprived him of his life for sure.

That didn't stop him, after a few grand balls in London, from locking himself away with her in seclusion and enjoying all that was female flesh and female fulfilment, feeling for the first time that he was not a repulsive child, but a man.

Life, however, made a mockery of him again when it turned out that Aegon had lost such large sums of money at cards over the years that, despite the fact that his brother was now a grown man who had a wife, Otto had beaten him before his eyes with a cane as if he were a small child again.

Aegon wailed and whimpered as he laid on the ground, writhing in pain, still drunk, and his grandfather hissed between hits that he was their ruin, their greatest misfortune.

Then his grandfather presented everyone at the evening meal with the solution to the problem they faced.

"Borros Baratheon is an extremely wealthy general with as many as five daughters ready to marry, he is known for his immense love for them, so I am confident that their dowries will be appropriate and also, if we play it right, he will give us a loan so that we can pay our immediate debts. Aemond, you will travel to Chelsfield to rest a little and choose your future spouse during this time." He said lightly, and everyone around him froze.

He heard Aegon's loud, amused laughter as he clapped his hands, the sound echoing throughout the room in the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"An excellent thought, grandfather. Right, brother? There's nothing better than to fuck a country wench." He said taking a glass of wine and raising it to his lips, their mother slammed her fist on the table, silencing him with a hiss, his wife lowered her gaze, embarrassed and ashamed.

Aemond did not listen to him or his mother. He stared at his grandfather wide-eyed, his jaw clenched, his fingers outstretched on the table rubbing against each other intensely in a nervous gesture.

"Is this supposed to be a joke?" He choked out finally, deadly serious, unable to believe what he was hearing.

His whole life, everything he'd denied himself, everything he'd learned was to serve who he was, his heritage, he hadn't been allowed to marry Alys despite her surpassing them all in stature, and now he was to choose from five simpering daughters of some village general?

His grandfather raised an eyebrow in displeasure.

"Ask your brother about that. Thanks to him we have no liquidity, we are finished. We need money, and Borros Baratheon has it. Marry one of his daughters and be happy you have plenty to choose from." He said impatiently, and Aemond got up from the table, leaving the room with a loud slam of the door against the walls.

He rushed into his room like a storm, ordering his servants not to let anyone in, and circled around his bed one way and the other, feeling like shouting, feeling like throwing something or destroying something, but he knew he couldn't do it, that it wasn't proper.

He finally knelt down in the middle of his room catching himself by his hair, burying his face in his arms and crying helplessly like a baby.

How many more humiliations did he have to endure in his life for God to decide that enough was enough?

How much more could he pray?

Why didn't God listen to him even though he went to church with his mother every Sunday, prayed in the morning and before bed with attention and focus?

Why was he not a good enough son either in the eyes of his father or God himself?

He knew there was no going back from his grandfather's decision. He knew that his mother would never defy him and his father would not take any interest in the matter even if he married a strange woman from the fair.

After a week he sat in the carriage that was to take him to Chelsfield and looked out of the window at the busy streets of London, inside sat with him Vhagar, his dog whom he had received as a gift from his mother for his tenth birthday.

She was beautiful, looking like a giant snow fox with white soft fur and a long snout. She was the only one he confided in, the only one he cried with, the only one with whom he could be weak, plaintive, whimsical, cheerful or happy.

Chelsfield was not far from London and they covered that distance in a few hours. Aemond pressed his lips together as he saw through the window a quite grand, country manor house of white brick, overgrown on all sides with ivy.

He saw a man in their army uniform step out, followed by a young boy and a whole bunch of girls in long high-waisted gowns.

He felt like throwing up at the sight of them.

When the door opened Vhagar was the first to fly out and despite him calling her she ran ahead, curious about the new smells and spaces. He felt rage when one of Lord Baratheon's daughters, who also looked to be the youngest, not yet pinning her hair into a bun, but having it partly loose, partly braided at the back of her head, ran towards her, reaching out to her.

He feared that Vhagar would bite her, unused to the sudden presence of strangers, her father thought the same, for he immediately moved towards her, rebuking her, but Vhagar only barked loudly and jumped at her, almost knocking her over.

The girl laughed out loud, catching her around the waist as if she was dancing and they both continued in such an embrace, Vhagar started sniffing her and licking her face.

He had never felt so embarrassed in his life.

Lord Baratheon greeted him with a few meaningless sentences, mentioning what an honour it was for him and that his room was ready, that he hoped he would find peace here and a bit of a break from the hustle and bustle of the city.

He figured the last thing he'd find in this place was rest.

He nodded at his words, pulling his cylinder off his head and following him through the main door to his house, escorted by the curious stares of his daughters.

When he finally locked himself into the room that was to belong to him for now, he sat down on the bed and grabbed his head, feeling like he was about to pass out. He couldn't imagine spending every evening with them, forced to talk to each of his daughters in turn.

He hated talking to strangers, he didn't have the gift to converse easily and he put his thoughts together with difficulty into full sentences, and the more he stressed about it, the worse it got.

He figured they'd tire him to death here, and he'd still have to choose which one of these silly girls to take with him and, horror of horrors, marry her, share his bed and his life with her. He shook his head at the thought, sighing heavily.

He didn't leave until the evening, terrified and discouraged, unpacking in his room, which was small by his standards. He looked out of the window and saw a rather pleasant view of the park, trees and hills.

He heard barking and noticed how the same girl who had let Vhagar lick her face in his presence ran across the grass with her, acting almost as if she were a second dog, laughing loudly, throwing her a long stick again and again.

He had never seen Vhagar in such euphoria before.

What kind of house was this?

When it was time for dinner he dressed himself in proper attire, adjusted the black ribbon in which his hair was tied, made sure his eye patch was fastened tightly enough, and went down the stairs feeling as if he was going to beheading.

As he entered the room, which he understood was the dining room, he noticed a beautifully decorated long table, a large fireplace at the end of the hall, lots of portraits and landscapes on the walls , tables and chairs all around.

Everyone stood up at the sight of him and nodded at him, and he reciprocated the gesture, walking unhurriedly to his seat, which was to the left of Mr Baratheon, and which should have been occupied by his eldest son. He saw with surprise that his son was seated opposite him, and only then realised that he had not seen Mrs Baratheon anywhere.

"Let's eat." Ordered Mr Baratheon in his booming, low, throaty voice and nodded to his servants, who one by one began to put food on their plates. As he expected, Mr Baratheon immediately addressed him.

"I hope you find your room comfortable and lacking in nothing, Mr Targaryen." He said lightly, without overbearing or teasing, it was more a statement than a question. Aemond nodded without looking at him.

"Yes, thank you very much. I'm not missing anything." He replied indifferently, grabbing his spoon, wanting to immediately start eating to prevent further conversation. The girl next to him couldn't resist, after a few minutes she tried to initiate light conversation with him.

"How do you find the landscapes of Chelsfield, Mr Targaryen?" She asked softly, and he turned his cool gaze on her, thinking in his head that it was the cheesiest question he had ever heard.

She was the only one with fair hair and seemed to him to be the oldest, her breasts were large and full as were her other shapes, and she had a pretty, common face, but not enough to tempt him.

"They are pleasant." He replied coolly, putting down his spoon so that the servant knew to take his plate from him. The girl beside him fell silent, discouraged.

"The day after tomorrow we will all go to church. Will you accompany us, Mr Targaryen?" Another of his daughters sitting across the table asked him, looking at him curiously, her lips slightly parted, as if defiantly, which he found displeasing.

She was trying to coquette him, to show him physically that she was attracted to him.

"Of course." He replied just as dispassionately, immediately getting down to his second dish as soon as it was served in front of him, wanting to finish the meal as quickly as possible.

As soon as he had succeeded in doing so he stood up and calmly announced that he wished to rest after his journey and retire to his room. Mr Baratheon agreed to this without much concern, watching him closely as he bowed and left without another word.

As he locked himself in his room he felt relieved. He pulled off his tailcoat, staying in just his chemise and trousers, and sat down at the cabinet, which he opened and was relieved to find stationery, quills, inkwell and ink there.

He started to write a letter to his mother, but crossed it out quickly and crumpled the piece of paper, throwing it down with rage.

Why should he lie, reassure her that he was content, that he liked it here, when it wasn't true?

He felt like he was locked in a cage with no way out, he knew he couldn't poke his nose out of his room if he wanted peace and quiet and the thought filled him with despair.

Resigned, he reached into his trunk and pulled out the books he had brought with him to somehow sweeten this awful time, these weeks he was to spend in this feral house full of simpletons.

Only after a while did he realise that Vhagar was not in his room.

He cursed loudly, running his hand over his face, devastated at the thought that surely she was still with that girl rolling around in the grass with her.

He fought with himself wondering if he should just let them stay together since they wanted to, but he felt anger because this was his dog, his closest friend, and she was taking her away from him.

As if his life had taken too little from him.

He stood up driven by rage and opened the door, looking around with a pounding heart. He heard Vhagar growling and barking in one of the rooms and knocked on it quietly, hoping to settle the matter quickly.

He heard someone run up to the door and open it quickly, Vhagar flew out and jumped on him, which had never happened before and he rebuked her immediately.

"Vhagar! Calm down! Sit." He commanded her, trying to be quiet and don't wake anyone. She sat down, breathing heavily, her tongue dangled on the left side of her mouth bobbing from her rapid breaths, her tail scrubbing the floor with joy, euphoria in her eyes.

What was happening to her?

"I was just teaching her a new trick." He heard the whisper of a girl who preferred to greet his dog first rather than him despite the fact that he could be her future husband.

He looked at her coldly, frustrated and bitter, a smile and gentle contentment on her face, she was standing in front of him in only a nightgown and a shawl thrown over her shoulders, her hair already completely loose.

He felt ashamed, it was the first time he had seen a woman in such a negligee. Even during his close-ups with Alys, he had never undressed her, simply not having the time to do so. He looked away, tightening his lips.

"Don't come near my dog again." He hissed, whistling at Vhagar, and she moved after him, stopping once in a while, turning towards her.

He felt furious and grabbed her suddenly by the fur on her neck, wanting to drag her forcibly to his room, like a small child who wants to snatch a toy from another child, and she began to squeal in pain and pull herself out of his grasp.

"− no! − please! − wait −" She begged and he let go of her, suddenly realising that he was causing her pain and watched, panting heavily, as Vhagar ran back to her room.

The girl looked at him apologetically and went back there, he heard her whisper to Vhagar to follow her, not to be afraid.

He stared ahead dully realising that he had just hurt the only being in the world who truly loved him.

That Vhagar would now be afraid of him too.

He felt like crying.

Miss Baratheon finally came out of her room holding something in her hand, evidently a piece of meat from the roast that she must have taken to her room after dinner and using it to train her.

Vhagar came up behind her, sniffing what she had in her hand, but when she saw him she lowered her ears and stepped back, afraid he would do to her again what he had done a moment before.

The girl approached him quickly, handing him the piece of meat she was holding.

"Hand it to her and call her out, just don't get angry." She said to him quietly as if they were acquaintances, but he decided he would not think of that, too distraught that Vhagar hated him so he knelt before her, extending his hand to her, and Miss Baratheon knelt beside him.

"− come, Vhagar − I'm sorry − it's all right −" He whispered and saw his dog begin to wag his tail again, she approached him slowly, uncertainly and sniffed his fingers, then licked them and ate what he held between them.

She pressed her white head against his chest, rubbing against him, and he felt a burning sensation under his eyelids, his lower lip trembling slightly.

"− I'm so sorry −" She said softly in a voice filled with guilt.

He heard her rise and looked at Vhagar, entering his room, and she ran after her at once. He moved behind them and watched in disbelief as she sat down on his floor and Vhagar lay down right next to her, placing her paw on her thigh, letting her know that she wanted to continue playing with her.

She had never behaved like this towards him and he had no idea what he should do with a girl sitting on the floor of his room in the middle of the night.

After a moment, however, Miss Baratheon stood up and looked at him, swallowing loudly, clearly realising herself that she shouldn't be there.

"− I'm sorry for the intrusion, I just wanted her to come in here − good night −" She mumbled almost running out and closing the door behind her, Vhagar wanted to run after her but didn't make it.

He lay down on his bed, distraught, and Vhagar ran up to him, having already forgotten the unpleasant event of a few minutes before, licking him devotedly and tenderly on the face.

"Traitor." He hissed angrily and regretfully, stroking her soft fur.

For the first time in his life, he let her jump on his bed and sleep with him.

Here, there were no his grandfather or servants to report this behaviour to him, which was completely unthinkable.

He fell asleep snuggled into her soft fur, ignoring the fact that she ended up taking up most of the bedding, pushing him to the side.

He thought it was an exceptionally pleasant feeling.

When he woke up in the morning he again felt the stress overpowering him at the thought of breakfast, the fact that this girl had probably blabbed everything to her sisters, saying that he was a violent, cold and aggressive man who hurt his own dog.

However, when he came downstairs with Vhagar his dog immediately ran to her to greet her, also coming up later to her father and brother, who called out to her, eventually making the rounds around the table, getting acquainted with each in turn.

"She's beautiful." Said the second of their sisters, slightly melancholy and hearty.

At breakfast, Mr Baratheon finally introduced his daughters properly to him taking advantage of the lighter atmosphere. He nodded pretending to try to remember their names, thinking with relief only that his youngest child had apparently not mentioned to him the commotion that had taken place during the night.

"I heard loud barking yesterday in your room. Why are you taking Mr Targaryen's dog for yourself?" Asked the girl who had tried to coquette him the day before, and from what he had just learned her name was Floris.

Her younger sister gave him a quick, apologetic glance full of guilt, her gown creamy and buff, pleasantly accentuating the shape of her breasts, some of her curls pinned back, some falling over her shoulders.

"I'm not taking her away, we've just become very friendly." She mumbled, and her sister snorted at her words.

"It's not appropriate." Said another sister, Cassandra, a blonde-haired girl who tried unsuccessfully to make light conversation with him.

He watched Mr Baratheon's youngest child collapse under more and more criticism, and thought with surprise that he felt no satisfaction from it.

"That's enough." Ordered Mr Baratheon, seeing that his daughter was on the verge of crying. "My dear, apologise to Mr Targaryen for your behaviour and for taking his dog for yourself."

He saw her lift her gaze to him, her eyebrows arched in pain, her chest rising and falling in shaky breaths.

"I am deeply sorry for my behaviour and all the unpleasantness that came with it." She choked out finally and he swallowed loudly, clenching his hand into a fist knowing that only he and she understood the context of that sentence.

He thought with shame that he had reacted too impulsively and aggressively in front of her, even though her opinion didn't matter to him, he couldn't get the expression on her face out of his head, her cry full of pain when Vhagar started squealing.

"I also apologise, miss Baratheon." He said lowly, looking at his fingers moving in an uncertain gesture across the table top, wanting her to know that he regretted what had happened, what she had seen. Floris sitting next to him moved restlessly.

"Mr Targaryen, do not apologise to her. She is like an animal herself." She said with amusement, and her younger sister pressed her trembling lips together, fighting for a moment against whatever was rising in her throat, but finally gave up and got up from the table, leaving the room before the tears had time to leave the corners of her eyes.

Her older brother followed her out, saying he would check how she was feeling, and there was an uncomfortable silence broken by their father.

"That was unnecessary, Floris." He said impatiently, his daughter snorting at his words.

"She's embarrassing us all, I just gave her something to think about."

"What a pathetic thing to say." He growled, taking a sip of tea from his cup, setting it down on the saucer with a clatter of porcelain, and only after a moment did he realise that he had said aloud what he had thought.

He didn't dare raise his eyes, feeling the pounding of his heart, feeling that all gazes were directed towards him.

"With your permission." He muttered, rising from his seat, bowing and leaving the dining room, feeling like he was going to burn from embarrassment.

How could he say something like that?

He felt that he needed air and walked outside onto the dirt road, whistling at Vhagar who ran after him, deciding to take a walk to clear his head.

He walked for a long time, going through the forest paths and then strolling around the lake, amazed at the overpowering stillness that reigned all around, the birdsong, the rustling of the leaves, the freshness of the air.

In London, everything was fast, sudden, loud.

Tiring.

He sat down on the sand by the edge of the lake and closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the water, to the sounds of nature, feeling Vhagar lay down beside him, sighing heavily. He continued like this for what seemed like an eternity, and decided that he could spend hours here, simply calming and soothing himself, hiding from the world.

He shuddered as he heard someone's footsteps in the distance, Vhagar instantly rising and literally darting towards the girl he would have recognised from a mile away.

He sighed heavily, turning his face towards the surface of the water, figuring he wouldn't pay any attention to her. Just as he thought, she sat down beside him on the sand, as he did, leaning her head against a long, old tree trunk.

She didn't say a word to him, however, letting Vhagar settle down between them, stroking her head, which she laid on her thighs. When he glanced at her he saw that her eyes were closed, that she was doing exactly the same thing he was doing.

She was running away.

He relaxed at the thought that she wasn't looking for a discussion or a intimacy with him and did the same as she did.

He shuddered, looking around, unsure of where he was or what was happening, running his hand over his face. He'd never fallen asleep outside before, much less in the middle of nowhere. He looked around and saw Vhagar lying on her back, sleeping soundly, embraced by Miss Baratheon, who was asleep snuggled against her fur.

He did not know what he thought of this sight, endlessly innocent and harmless. He was afraid someone had seen or would see them, but he didn't want to touch her, so he grunted loudly. She moved suddenly, blinking her eyelids rapidly, and rose to sit down, rubbing her eyes, as confused as he was.

Feeling that what had happened was uncomfortable to say the least, he stood up and whistled at Vhagar, heading back the same way he had come, leaving her alone.

She did not follow him and he felt relieved at the thought.

Halfway through, however, he stopped, feeling anxious, wondering if he should leave her alone in the forest. He fought the thought convincing himself that since she had gone there herself, she would return on her own, knowing the area better than he did, but on the other hand, he would never let Helaena venture this far, and she was still very young.

What if something happened to her?

He cursed in frustration and turned back, coming across her after a few minutes. She looked at him surprised, clearly not expecting him to come back for her.

"Did you forget something, sir?" She asked him uncertainly, and he rolled his eyes impatiently, turning his back on her.

"Come, for God's sake."

They walked side by side in silence, simply admiring the pleasant summer views of meadows and forests, not a living soul around them.

He had to admit that these views filled him with some strange sense of warmth, landscapes that he usually only saw in paintings now appeared before his eyes, even more beautiful, teeming with life and intense, strong colours.

They returned to the mansion together, which did not escape the attention of the household, he saw that Maris and Floris literally threw themselves at her as soon as he moved on, thinking he could not hear.

"What are you thinking? What have you done?"

"Nothing." She said impatient and resentful, fatigue and despair in her voice.

"Stop. I asked you a question. You forced yourself on Mr Targaryen again, didn't you?" He heard Floris's voice and stopped in mid-step, tightening his lips.

The youngest Miss Baratheon wanted to say something in her defence, devastated by the accusations, but it was he who spoke up first.

"How are you not ashamed?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at her, all three of them suddenly silent. "It's better to be silent sometimes than to confirm one's stupidity."

Floris probably didn't believe for a moment that he had said that, but when it finally dawned on her that he was deadly serious, she burst into sobs, running into the house, hitting him with her shoulder, Maris ran in after her.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, and she looked at him in disbelief, not knowing herself what she thought of his cruel words. He whistled at Vhagar and walked up the stairs to the inside of their mansion, leaving her alone with her thoughts about what kind of man he actually was.

_____

Taglist 1 @its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Here is some hot tea...As always take with a grain of salt. by u/Meegainnyc

Here is some hot tea...As always take with a grain of salt.

I made it text for ease of reading and thanks OP for the scoop! 🧂

THE VIEW FROM THE U.K. I count two Royal reporters as friends. The private view in the U.K. is this:

1. ⁠The Palaces (that is, the institutional faces of the Royal Family) are content that the facts surrounding the Markles slowly but surely come into the public domain with as little "push" as possible from the Palaces. A slow revelation of the facts is considered more powerful and comprehensively final that big leaks which the Markles can counter

2. ⁠The Press in the U.K. is staffed by anti-Monarchists who receive their story feeds from the Markles and play them off against the formal releases to the Royal Rota in the U.K. and elsewher

3. ⁠Archie certainly exists - or, at the very least, a child represented to the Late Queen and Duke of Edinburgh as Archie.

4. ⁠The Late Queen never visited Frogmore Cottage in 2022 and never met any child represented as the daughter of the Markles. She said as too I'll to make such a journey. There is no diary evidence of any meeting whatsoever

5. ⁠The Palaces and the Royal Family collectively are determined never to meet or be in the same place as the Markle woman

6. ⁠The Markle woman's husband is very subtly discouraged from setting foot on any Royal property until he is rid of his for-now wife

7. ⁠The REAL crisis for the Markle woman's husband is a looming tax crunch. By 6 April 2026 he will be non-resident for U.K. tax purposes to the extent that he can return to the U.K. and not pay tax on his American earnings here in the U.K. Alas, he will run out of money before then and the only way he will get any more is if he takes up residence (tax residence) here in the U.K. in order to receive his bequests from Diana/Queen Mother. They CANNIT be paid to an overseas tax resident. Thank you so much this insight. This couple are in a pickle aren't they? Here in the US, in focus is the dodgy business Archewell and it's misappropriating funds & Tax, as well as the other stuff that I have talked about with the US government, if people have been paying attention. There is a reason why the visa info is on hold, but I won't get into right now aside from saying that it is not good, if it turns out to be true. We will have news soon and it most likely be broken by an independent Journalist, international news, and or YouTuber as MSM outlets here in the US will not cover it to avoid diplomacy issues with the UK, and drawing attention of Russia & China for use in foreign propaganda. It's safe to say there are crisis on both sides of the pond looming. These two have made a mess and no doubt Meghan will throw Harry under the bus to save herself when the time comes. James Holt is a fool for taking the liability for Archewell finances as it is only a matter of time before he is called into question.

https://ift.tt/Ud5VeOu post link: https://ift.tt/slMr4Py author: Meegainnyc submitted: May 30, 2024 at 02:05PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[thealexandriaarchives]

The Arrakis Royal Ballet in Arrakeen has just had a crisis of leadership under the management of the CHOAM Foundation which oversees its board, and Vladimir Harkonnen has been ousted as chairman, which means two things: Oh thank god we don't have to watch the same 5 Tchaikovsky shows over and over again this season, Swan Lake and The Firebird are FINE but GOD- and the Company's default leading man for every performance, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, will suddenly have to compete for his slot.

That's totally fine, but the next person to fill the board's slot is Leto Atredies, a man who's actively investigating the Harkonnens for using the Ballet for money laundering as well as reputation laundering, and his son, Paul Atredies, is about to make his international debut after being quietly... discouraged, from applying. Still, whether as a PR move or an olive branch, Leto suggests a Ballet to fit the bill: Giselle.

It's French, so it will give people something different from the aggressively Russian fare Vlad had selected for the last several seasons. ...A bit unfair, perhaps, Chani had been hoping for Balanchine outside of Christmas, but Feyd never expected he'd even get so much as Italian. Paul Atredies was taught by masters in the classical French schools and he's got the light, precise, delicate footwork and speed to show for it. Hell with that slight frame, and some of the moves Feyd has seen him do on TikTok, which is about the only place he's been able to perform up until now, there have even been whispers he could perform the female roles just as easily.

But Giselle is good. It will give Chani some space to show off her acting chops as she falls in love and goes insane, casts Irulan well as a cold and vicious wraith queen, ordering men to their deaths, and it's underperformed- often because it requires two strong male leads in the same company.

As soon as he hears the name Feyd-Rautha doesn't kid himself about which role he'll be playing. Even if he didn't personally prefer Hilarion to the lying noble prick Albrecht is revealed to be, there's no way the new chairman's son and anointed star is going to be the one drowned like a rat in a bucket by the end of act two.

Besides, Feyd knows what the last act requires physically, and he's seen Atredies throwing his whole body into full spins again and again through the air in his million dollar barre studio online. Feyd's just not going to let a spoiled green debutante get away with blowing this for everyone else.

So on the first day of rehearsals, while Chani and Stilgar are off with the set designer, discussing the frankly insane decision to replace the woods and lake with a desert terrain out of Lawrence of Arabia, Feyd-Rautha sidles up to their untested new danseur noble as he laces his shoes.

"I hear you're our new Duke of Arrakis."

[dorindameddler]

so many good wyllstarion dynamics, one i've been thinking about since the epilogue dropped is grand duke wyll and ascended astarion being the only two left in baldur's gate and astarion is lonely so he keeps dropping by the ravengard estate to hang out while internally being like "i'm gonna have to kill this guy eventually but for the moment..." meanwhile wyll (also lonely) (also internally like "i'm gonna have to kill this guy eventually") doesn't do anything to discourage his visits

[youdontneedhenry]

Hi friends- I need a little help. Can you guys help me collect some quotes of Duke being discouraging? I need it...for reasons. If you know roughly the episode that would be helpful too. I don't rewatch the Duke episodes often and this will be kinda chore so just wondering if there's memorable ones anyone else remembers.

[deathishauntedbyhumans]

something abt wyll teaching umi how to fight and kneeling down to get on his level and encouraging him with a voice that’s oh-so-gentle and giving him advice that’s offered in the kindest manner he can offer because. because. because.

when his father taught him how to fight, do you think he knelt down to give his son advice? do you think duke ravengard, when sparring with his young boy, had the patience to speak kindly? do you think wyll is teaching these children this way because that’s the way he was taught?

or do you think he remembers what it’s like to feel discouraged at the hand of his teacher, so he does what he can to never be like him?