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cinnamon-galaxies · 4 months ago

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𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐢𝐫 - Part 1

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairings: Alastor x female reader Summary: During a night out at a club with the hotel crew, you enjoy dancing and drinking with Angel while Alastor remains visibly uncomfortable in the lounge area. Seeking distraction from your conflicted feelings towards him, you connect with another woman, which quickly escalates into an embarrassing situation. This forces you to question not only your emotions but also the true nature of your complicated relationship with Alastor. Warnings/Tags: female reader, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, drunk reader, kissing, reader is bisexual and makes out with another woman, Alastor gets jealous, Alastor is bad at feelings so instead of communicating his jealousy he decides to taunt reader, second hand embarrassment Wordcount: 4.4k A/N: I can’t believe it – I’ve finally managed to write a new story! It has a second part that’s almost finished and will be posted at the end of the month. If you’d like to be tagged when it’s up, just let me know! Fun fact about this story: It includes lore about my OC Mara, as the circumstances under which the reader meets Selena are the same as those in which Mara encounters her best friend in my AU! Comments, Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!

Masterlist

The club was packed with bodies and the colorful neon lights flickered in time with the relentless beat of electronic music. Loud chatter and the pounding bass around him formed an unbearable cacophony that made Alastor cringe inwardly. He despised the modern scene and its noise, the crowds and overall lack of refinement. It was far from his idea of a pleasant evening. Oh, how much he hated to be here. Stressed and feeling completely out of place, Alastor sat in the lounge area of one of Pentagram City's most notorious clubs, his grin strained, his ears perked up and a much too sweet cocktail in his hand. If it wasn’t for his gloves, the whitened knuckles from his heavy grip around the glass would’ve been apparent even from afar. He hadn’t intended to come here and would’ve preferred to stay at the hotel, settling himself in front of his fireplace with a good book and fine jazz in the background. Honestly, he would’ve even preferred to clean the entire hotel over being forced to spend his time in this establishment which felt as wrong as a walk through the Vee’s district. It was Angel Dust who had brought up the idea of this excursion, promising a wild night of fun and debauchery to blow off some steam. The other residents had barely hesitated, convinced by the idea of spending a night out together. To Alastor’s biggest disapproval, they had insisted on him to accompany them. Not that they would’ve had the power to convince him to leave the tranquility of the quiet hotel behind for such a cacophony of modern entertainment that could be the product of one of his nightmares – no. It was you who had convinced him in the end. You were just too persistent and persuasive, and he was just too taken with you to refuse after such big eyes begged him to join.

You, on the other side, enjoyed the evening. You were completely in your element, dressed up in a tight but elegant cocktail dress and exuding confidence as if you owned this place. Together with Angel Dust, you dominated the dance floor with fluid and inhibited movements, your arms held up in the air while you swung your hips to the rhythm of the music. You quickly became the center of attention, especially for Alastor who couldn’t help but watch you from his secluded spot, a mix of admiration and irritation flickering in his otherwise unreadable eyes. How he admired your confidence, your ability to let loose in such an uncomfortable and overstimulating place, reveling in the atmosphere with such vivid enthusiasm. Yet, the feelings he held for you were a secret, cautiously buried beneath the layers of his Radio Demon persona.

“Come on, Smiles, loosen up and have some fun,” Angel Dust suddenly interrupted his train of thoughts, and Alastor snapped his head in his direction, raising his eyebrows at the spider demon. When did he leave the dance floor? As Alastor glanced at him, he noticed a small tray with half a dozen shots in his hands. Angel must have left for the bar to get drinks for himself and the others. If he really thought he could convince Alastor to indulge in this kind of modern entertainment, he was delusional.

Without a word, Alastor rolled his eyes and waved him off, his gaze drifting back to you before he got aware that Angel Dust still stood beside him and turned his attention to the glass in his hand.

The spider demon let out a deep sigh. “Alright. Haven’t expected anything else,” he murmured and walked on, but not without placing one of the full shot glasses on the small table in front of Alastor and disappearing before Alastor could say something. He watched Angel Dust return to the dance floor, heading directly towards you. Then he stared at the shot glass and raised his eyebrow, clear liquor grinning back at him. With a sigh that was impossible to hear under the loud noise other people dared to call ‘music’, he took it in his hand and downed the substance in one gulp. A spicy burn seared in his throat, making him cough. At least the shot was tolerable…

You had the time of your afterlife. Increasingly intoxicated after downing one drink after another you danced in the crowd, hips swaying vividly to the music with such unrestrained joy you haven’t felt in a long time. It was a good idea to agree to Angel’s suggestion to go partying. You didn't know that you needed this until you had arrived and he dragged you to the bar almost immediately to get ready for a night of reckless debauchery. You haven’t left the dance floor since you’ve emptied your first longdrink and probably won’t within predictable time because Angel Dust served you with new drinks almost every quarter of an hour.

You watched your friend worm himself through the crowd, skillfully avoiding contact with any of the other guests, balancing the tray high above his head while he shielded himself from accidental punches with his second set of arms. When he arrived, he placed the tray on a high bar table not far from you. Still entranced by the music you danced your way over to him.

“Damn, you really want to mess me up, huh?”, you joked as you noticed the amount of shots he got and Angel shrugged his shoulders.

“Lil’ stock supply will prevent me from fighting myself over to the bar for at least another half an hour,” he responded, handing you a shot glass and taking one for himself.

A laugh escaped your throat and you praised him for his genius idea with a quick wink. “Then let’s hope no one will spike them when we look away.” With that, you raised your shot glass in a quick toast and downed the clear liquor with high anticipation, a cough escaping you as the spicy alcohol burned down your throat. Dry Ouzo. Tasty, but like fire in the stomach.

Angel chuckled at your reaction, clearly unaffected due to his regular club nights with Cherri.

“Hey man, thanks for the drinks!” a random stranger exclaimed over the music, boldly snatching two shots away and disappearing in the crowd as fast as he had appeared.

“And so the stock runs out,” Angel Dust deadpanned with an annoyed expression, staring with narrowed eyes in the direction the shot thief took their leave.

You snorted through your nose, erupting in wholehearted laughter at his reaction, and shrugged your shoulders. “Looks like you’ll have to return to the bar sooner than anticipated,” you mocked him with a smirk, patting one of his lower shoulder joints.

“Hmpf…” Without another word, Angel took another shot and downed it right after.

You and Angel Dust spend some time just standing at the bar table, chatting with raised voices and watching the other guests while you commented on their dancing styles or played a sheepish game of ‘fuck, marry, kill’ with random strangers you pointed out from the crowd.

After what was about an hour, you cleared your throat. “I need to go to the bathroom. After that, I’ll head to the bar and get myself a soda,” you informed Angel, and he nodded in acknowledgment. Pushing yourself up from the table, you navigated through the crowds, the effect of almost half a dozen shots clearly affecting your vision and balance. It wasn’t too debilitating because your body could handle large amounts of alcohol easily, but you still felt uncomfortable and needed some time to steady yourself and return to your senses. Some non-alcoholic drinks might work wonders to ease the symptoms. You're bound to face a brutal hangover tomorrow anyway.

After you returned from the bathrooms you walked over to the bar, ordering a simple soda from the barkeeper. You thanked him as he handed you your non-alcoholic drink and leaned with your back against the bar counter. As you took a few gulps, your gaze wandered around the club and a sigh escaped your throat. It was an awesome evening though different from what you expected. You actually had planned to take it easy and not indulge in such debauchery. But Angel had claimed you as soon as you entered the club, dragging you away from the group and lulling you to loosen up. It’s not that you weren’t eager to go clubbing. You actually liked to partake in such excursions and just forget about the daily stress for an evening full of fun and loud music. And this time, it seemed to be helpful to suppress certain matters of the heart as well…

Your gaze wandered to the lounge area where you found a certain deer demon sitting on a couch – the seats around him unoccupied because no one dared to sit close to him – and you could feel your heart sink. You were so confident when you convinced him to join your excursion and yet you didn’t dare to spare him a single glance ever since you entered this establishment. You had convinced him to join in a moment of boldness, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this could be an opportunity to bridge the gap between you. But instead you feared that you complicated things even further.

Alastor was an enigma and that was part of the allure that drew you in. His charm, his charisma, and the old-world chivalry he brought to every interaction caused you to melt every time he was near. He made your heart race with a single glance, his touch – so commanding yet delicate – set your skin on fire, sending thousands of butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He was a force of nature, fierce and unpredictable, with a soft spot only those he chose were privileged to see. And you were one of those people. Yet, you weren’t even sure if you meant anything to him because he held you at a respectable distance, initiating a game of push and pull between you that left you reeling.

Was it a mistake to bring him here? A part of you thought it was because you knew he never was one for Hell’s modern nightlife and seeing him sit there, a predator among prey with a strained grin plastered on his face and holding onto a drink in his hands, only highlighted the chasm between you two. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that you made things worse by dragging him into an environment where he seemed completely out of place, and where your feelings for him felt more unrequited than ever.

"Dizzy head?" A female voice disrupted your train of thoughts, and you raised your head to meet the kind face of a beautiful woman leaning against the bar counter. She held a long drink with a tiny paper umbrella in her hand, her lips curled into a soft smile. Her skin had a pale pinkish hue, almost ghostly under the club's dim yet colorful lights, while two horns peeked out from her thick raven hair.

"A little," you responded, pushing your daunting thoughts away, and took a sip from your soda. "But nothing to worry about. A few minutes of abstinence will do enough," you laughed lightly, trying to shake off the haze.

The woman laughed along and glanced thoughtfully at the drink in her hands. “I’ll probably do the same after this one.” She shrugged and then turned her gaze back to you. “I’m Selena,” she introduced herself with a bright smile.

“Y/N!” you returned much more joyfully than you felt.

“So, your first time here? I’m a regular guest here so I know all of the common faces.”

You took another sip from your soda. Maybe getting to know someone new would help you feel better. “I actually came here with a group of people. Friends and co-workers, you could say. Just a simple night out to get some distraction from the stress of maintaining the hotel,” you explained with a slight smile on your lips as your gaze quickly wandered around the club. You noticed some of your companions scattered across the establishment.

Selena tilted her head curiously, clearly intrigued. “The hotel? So, you’re working at that ‘Hazbin Hotel’?” she asked, and soon your casual small talk turned into an extensive conversation. You told her about your job and Charlie’s unusual belief in redemption that barely received any recognition, and Selena listened intently, her curiosity keeping the conversation alive with thoughtful questions. As you talked, a sense of relief washed over you. Slowly, you learned more about Selena, and before long, thoughts of Alastor faded from your mind entirely.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drawn back into the rhythm of shots and cocktails, and soon enough, Selena dragged you back to the pulsing dance floor. The flashing lights and thumping bass faded into the background as you moved in sync, the world reduced to just the two of you dancing and laughing like old friends. The chemistry between you was palpable. Selena mirrored your enthusiasm and joy with such ease that it felt like you had known each other for years. With every dance move and shared laughter, the bond between you deepened and you were certain that if the night continued on this smoothly and you both remembered each other the next morning, you had found a new friend.

The music – a popular pop song from the early 2000’s – filled the air, infusing the atmosphere with nostalgia and energy, and a sense of euphoria washed over you. You danced, drinks raised into the air while you held each other on the shoulders. Each move felt like a release, a moment of being liberated from all worries and constraints as the adrenaline rushed through your veins.

You exchanged meaningful glances with Selena, unable to ignore the magnetic pull you felt toward her. Was it merely the alcohol heightening your perceptions, or was it genuinely her captivating presence – her allure, infectious personality, and sharp wit – that drew you in? You didn’t know but your mutual attraction pulled you closer until you eventually slipped away, stumbling into a quiet hallway at the back of the club, away from the pounding music and the press of bodies. The alcohol clouded your vision, lowered your senses and your boundaries. And so, you found yourself caught in a passionate embrace with Selena. Your fingers played with her hair as you pressed yourself against her, using the proximity with that alluring woman to your own benefit to forget about the tight squeeze around your heart and all the inner turmoil you felt whenever you thought about him.

Meanwhile, Alastor still sat in his secluded spot, grateful that his presence was nervously avoided by the other guests. He appreciated not having to endure forced proximity with people – at least most of the time. One time during the evening, Charlie – ever the caring person – had seated herself next to him, expressing her worry about his obviously strained mood and claiming to feel guilty for not allowing him to stay at the hotel. How funny that the princess truly believed she was the reason he joined their little night out; as if she had any authority over him... To his surprise, Alastor had easily managed to brush her off by affirming he was alright all over again. A blatant lie, but preferable over enduring more of her neverending rambling. Of course, she reassured him several times that returning to the hotel would be okay, before she eventually left him alone. And Alastor would have already left hours ago if it wasn’t his primary concern to ensure your safety.

He felt a migraine coming on, an unpleasant throbbing in his temple caused by the stress this establishment was inflicting upon him. Rising from his seat, he decided to retreat from the main area to seek some respite from the oppressive atmosphere, instructing his shadow to remain vigilant. With his cane tapping against the floor with every step, he walked past the lounge area and the dancefloor, the crowd instinctively parting to make way for him like Moses parting the Red Sea. Thanks to his observant shadow, he already knew that the back of the club led to an outside area that offered a welcome relief from the sensory overload.

As he walked through the dimly lit hallway, the music became quieter, no longer assaulting his sensitive hearing, and instead, faint giggles reached his ears. He hesitated before rounding the corner and stopped dead in the tracks. There, in front of him, were you, pressed against a wall and your lips locked with another woman in a heated kiss. The scene was intimate, passionate, and entirely unexpected. Your body was entwined with her’s, your hands roaming through her hair while the woman held you in her embrace.

For a moment, Alastor simply watched, unable to avert his gaze. This revelation caught him completely off-guard and his heart twisted painfully in his chest, an unfamiliar feeling of jealousy and confusion warring inside him. He had known that you were fond of men but this revelation left him reeling. But no matter with whom you were with, seeing you in such an intimate manner with another person was a blow he hadn’t anticipated and that sent a surge of anger through his body. He clenched his fists, torn between storming away and interrupting you, the discomfort palpable in his features while he fought to regain his composure.

Sensing eyes on you, you broke the kiss and looked up. You startled immediately as your eyes fell on the red deer demon.

"Alastor!" you exclaimed in shock, instinctively pushing Selena away. She turned her head, her eyes widening immediately, her face paling in shock and fear as she recognized the figure standing before you both. "You– you’re the Radio Demon!" she stammered, her voice shaky.

You, still breathless from the kiss, clenched your jaws together, feeling just as uncomfortable as Alastor. His grin looked strained for a second but then he returned to his cold, unreadable expression, and your heart sank in your chest.

“Alastor… this isn’t what it looks like…” you muttered a cheap excuse while you felt the heat rising to your face, turning your already alcohol-induced cheeks to a burning red. Your lips curled into a nervous grin, driven by the rush of embarrassment coursing through your veins, mingled with a heavy, unidentifiable tangle of emotions. Out of all your companions, why did it have to be him who caught you in the middle of the act?

Alastor raised an eyebrow, his smile now sardonic while his gaze wandered back and forth between you and Selena. His voice carried a heavy static as he responded, “Oh, I think it is exactly what it looks like, my dear.”

You took in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t mean to–,” you tried to explain but Alastor cut you off with a dismissive wave of his clawed hand.

“Nonsense, my dear,” he laughed his discomfort off, pushing his jealousy aside, though the enhanced static on his voice betrayed his forced facade. “There’s no need to apologize. You’re free to do whatever you want. I am the one who should be apologizing. I didn’t mean to interrupt your…” He wiggled his fingers in a suggestive gesture that implied everything he wanted to say without having to utter a single word.

You giggled nervously, your heartbeat slowly calming, and glanced at Selena who appeared visibly intimidated by Alastor’s presence, her posture tense and her joyful expression replaced by a mortified grimace, which only made you feel more uneasy.

“I– I should go,” she eventually said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that lingered in the hallway and attempted to walk off.

“No, wait!” you tried to stop her, not wanting to be left alone with Alastor, but Selena just forced herself to tighten her lips into a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you later,” she retorted, interpreting your reaction as a worry to not see her again instead of the sheer plea to not be left alone. With that, she walked off, returning to the main part of the club and leaving you alone with Alastor.

You felt his lingering gaze burning into your side, the faint glow of his crimson eyes in the dim light of the hallway making him appear more dangerous than he was. Well, assuming that Alastor wasn’t dangerous would be utterly naive – he was literally an overlord and one of the most dangerous ones at that. However, he would never harm you, so in that sense, he was harmless.

“Enjoying yourself, I see,” Alastor eventually commented, his unreadable expression sharpened by a subtle flicker of disapproval in his eyes.

You still couldn't bring yourself to look at him and that comment only exacerbated your unease. Why did he have to be someone who found pleasure in keeping other people on edge? Could he at least not wallow in your discomfort now? It wasn’t as if you weren’t already suffering enough.

You sighed and bit your lip, swallowing the clod in your throat before you pulled yourself together to say something. “We were just… oh fuck me…” you mumbled those last words quietly to yourself, “Look, she’s a friend and we got a little too comfortable after drinking so much booze.” While you tried to explain the situation, you asked yourself why you even bothered. He couldn’t care less. You weren’t dating and probably not even friends. Damn, you didn’t even know what you were because everything was just too complicated between the both of you. There were pushes and pulls and every time you felt some tension crackling between you it dissipated again, leaving you clueless and completely confused by Alastor’s unpredictable behavior, his intermittent interest in you, and those random moments that allowed you a fleeting glimpse behind his facade. It was infuriating the least and most of all profoundly frustrating. If it wasn’t for him and your damned feelings for that man, you probably wouldn't even have found yourself in this predicament.

“Why are you even here?” you asked and eventually dared to look at him.

“I was seeking some quiet,” he replied, his voice softer now, the edge gone.

“And then you stumbled upon us and decided to watch?”

He let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, come on. I did not watch,” he dismissed your question with a nonchalant throw of his hand, rolling his eyes as if you just asked him the stupidest thing. “But your little rendezvous was attracting quite the attention, dear.”

You gritted your teeth and decided to push his borders a little. If he could make the situation awkward for you then you could certainly return the favor. Besides, you were still drunk and the alcohol lowered your inhibitions enough to go completely bold in front of him.

Narrowing your eyes you crossed your arms in front of your chest and relaxed back against the same wall you were just pressed against by Selena mere minutes ago. “Quite the attention or your attention, Alastor?” you asked, pretending to be more confident than you actually were.

Alastor’s grin grew more strained immediately and you could swear that one of his eyes twitched for a quick second before he regained his composure yet another time. Why was he so tense? Normally, Alastor would’ve just raised an eyebrow and walked past you without further interest. But instead he froze on spot, obviously unable to avert his gaze until you felt his eyes on you.

He didn’t respond, so your expression grew more smug as you decided to push him just a little bit further. Maybe you could use this situation to your advantage and finally get some answers… “Could it be that it bothered you to catch me with someone else?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, dear,” he dismissed your question with another throw of his hand, rolling his eyes yet again. “I was merely caught off-guard by seeing you engaging in such frivolities with another woman. I didn’t know you swung both ways.” He tilted his head and chuckled, the static filter on his voice distorting the sound almost unnervingly.

“Well, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” you retorted, your voice coming out sharper than expected.

One of Alastor’s ears twitched at your aggravated tone. “Is that so?” he asked.

“It is.” You deadpanned.

A moment of silence lingered between the two of you until Alastor broke it, “Well, the world is full of surprises, isn’t it? And you, my dear, seem to be full of surprises too.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or offended.”

“How about both?” He tilted his head once more, casually positioning his cane in front of him and leaning on it the way he usually did when he found himself intrigued by something. The tension that had gripped him so tightly vanished as if it had never been there at all. And there it was: the so-called push and pull that left you reeling for months.

You took a deep breath, growing annoyed by this conversation. “If you don’t care then why are you still here?”

“Curiosity, dear,” he responded casually.

“Curiosity?” You arched an eyebrow, not quite buying his answer.

“Indeed,” he affirmed.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” you deadpanned.

“And satisfaction brought it back,” he retorted, clearly enjoying the banter.

You groaned. Why did he have to do this to you…? “Well, if you’re satisfied now… you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.” You pushed yourself off the wall, ready to return to the dance floor – but not without heading towards the bar beforehand and ordering the strongest booze you could get here.

You already set off, as Alastor’s voice called after you, “Running away, are we?”

You stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, reminding yourself that you were in public and therefore couldn’t just hit his head against a brick. Or…? Well, actually you could. You were in Hell, anyway. But Alastor was much stronger than you, and if you were to attack him, it meant that you couldn't be certain he would no longer be harmless to you. “I am not running away. I just don't see any reason to stay here and be interrogated by you any longer.”

“Interrogated? My dear, I'm simply making conversation.”

“This ain’t a simple conversation if you’re prying into my personal life.” With that you straightened your back and headed back to the main room of the club, leaving Alastor alone in the hallway, completely unaware of the hurt expression on his face.

Part 2 will be out at the end of the month. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

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judesmoonbeauty · 1 month ago

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Chaotic Night CE Prologue

Not 100% accurate. Cybird owns everything. Fan translation only. Re-blogs are appreciated, but do not repost my translations anywhere. Thank you for your support!

Victor: It’s almost Halloween, Will.

Victor: Of course, there’ll be a party as usual. Vogel’s also been invited.

Victor: It’s just - will we be able to spend our time peacefully?

Victor: Fortunately, we did get through last year’s “Queen of the Night.” [1]

William rested his chin with his hand that was propped on the armrest, and narrowed his beautiful blood-hued eyes.

William: Vic, you have a bad habit of pretending to be a good boy, despite not wanting peacefulness.

William: One of the pleasures of Halloween is when unexpected things happen, isn’t it?

William: Especially for us “cursed” ones.

—And so, on the day of the Halloween party.

Victor: Now, pay attention! If I cover this basket with a cloth — something magical happens!

Harrison: There’ll be candy. It’s Halloween after all.

Jude: Tch, every year this shitty thing happens ‘n that Queenie wastes my time. Someday - [2]

Ellis: Jude, you’ve got some left over roasted venison, can I have it?

(Everyone’s doing things their usual way, but it seems like they’re having fun.)

Kate: By the way, I had a chance to speak with everyone at Vogel —

Nica: Well, it’s terrible to invite someone and then ignore them, isn’t it?

Kate: Whoa!

Suddenly I heard a voice in my ear, and I almost jumped.

Kate: P-please don’t scare me.

Nica: Haha, sorry? I just wanted to deepen my friendship with the robin. [3]

— At that time.

Roger: Hey, have you seen a small odd bottle?

Everyone’s attention was drawn to the clear voice.

Liam: A small bottle? As you can see, there’s all kinds of bottles of jams and syrups…..

Liam: Roger, what are you talking about?

Harrison: Everyone ate whatever they wanted.

Roger: ….Does that mean it got mixed in.

Roger slowly walks around the table, examining each bottle.

Elbert: Now that you mention it…..the syrup Al recommended was delicious.

Alfons: Surprisingly, it suited Lord Elbie’s tastes.

Alfons: The delicate fragrance of flowers causes a wonderful feeling.

Darius: Oh, that’s it. I thought it had an elaborate taste.

Ring: …..I, felt like I had to eat it too, so I did.

William: —It seems no one was able to resist the temptation.

(Hm? Something seems off.)

The atmosphere of the party filled with a strange enthusiasm, and it felt uneasy.

Roger had a knowing expression on his face —

Roger: This thing’s been eaten by all the cursed here.

Roger laughed holding a small, opened, empty bottle.

Roger: I just inhaled its scent too.

Kate: R-Roger, what was in that bottle?

Roger: — It’s essence of the “Queen of the Night.”

Shortly, it became clear.

What they consumed,

Strengthened the “curse” of the cursed ones,

Even transforming their appearance.

And tonight, with their cursed blood stirring, the curtain opens on anything but a peaceful Halloween.

Ftn [1] This directly translates as “the moonlit beauty.” However, it is referring to the Dutchman’s Pipe Cactus AKA, the “Queen of the Night.” This flower blooms once a year at night, and is part of IkeVil’s lore on the BD sets, and even some avatars.

Ftn [2] Jude uses 女王陛下 (Her Majesty the Queen). However, there is a superscription above it あの女 (that woman), indicating that it should be read as “that woman the queen,” in order to distinguish her from Kate who is present at the party.

Ftn [3] Nica may be calling Kate robin in German as “rotkehlchen”.

[Event Master List] Dividers: @.saradika-graphics

Tag list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka Please let me know if you'd like to be added my translations tag list!

Jude: Wastin' my time every year with this shit....fkgdfjgsdf; Me: Sir, do you remember what you did last year? Please deliver this year too.

#ikevil translations #cybird translations #ikevil #ikevil jp

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toxycodone · 6 months ago

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what about a laios and a chubby reader who has a fascinations with monsters much like him. (they big back it together actually lmfaoo) and reader begins to notice that they were getting chubbier (bc senshi's food is so bomb they can't help but get seconds.) i don't see much chubby readers for laios...which in itself is a crime but i digress 😔😔

dude see this type of ask like. makes me so confused bc like. canonically being chubby is ideal for dungeons! I was reading lore extras and kui mentions like being able to maintain weight (especially excess weight) in the dungeon shows off skill in surviving bc it means you didn’t have to be revived often (since being revived costs calories). And before dungeon expeditions you wanna get a little weight on you bc it preps you for what’s ahead.

plus like, in the world of dungeon meshi it’s difficult to have a body that’s “abnormal” if that makes sense? Like there’s a lot of different beauty standards. And it’s all based on just culture and influence but obviously that doesn’t apply to everyone. The only real out of the ordinary is beastkin (but like. I think as time goes on that becomes less abnormal or something since kui draws a lot of them just chillin around in extras so!) IDK. I’m rambling let me answer the prompt.

I honestly don’t see Laios treating you much differently than anyone else, at least in the first meeting and getting to know you. Body type doesn’t matter as much. But he shares your enthusiasm about monsters (duh) and happily chats your ear off about them.

and when it comes to food and cooking he’s SO happy to see you eat seconds (along with Senshi tbh he’s probably super happy and proud of himself lol). I think it shows how much you appreciate their effort and “unorthodox” ways. The fact you’re so enthused about eating makes them happy, but especially Laios. You know how much he emphasizes eating three meals a day plus snacks! When you eat your fill he’s just all *glowy smile with flowers*.

And he asks you about the foooood. What did you think? What’s your favorite monster to eat? Did you like it better than the last one?

also…Laios feeding you…from his own utensils….😳

But also like. You know that extra with the orcs? He definitely loves your body type. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind about that 💀 bro was a second away from frothing.

#laios touden #hes my beloved.#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laios x reader

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silenzahra · 3 months ago

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Luigi serenades Daisy 🎶✨

This post was originally shared on 14th July 2024 on my old blog, which was deactivated the next day. Due to this, I decided to redo it since there were too many links that led to my old content and therefore didn't work anymore.

I came up with this idea thanks to @kelbreyworshipper who sent me an ask (to my old blog I mean), and I decided to play with my own musicians headcanons to create a romantic ambience for Luigi and Daisy as well as a few headcanons for their relationship in my lore. You may also find a couple of hints to my Luigi the Bookworm post.

Many people read this one before and I really appreciate your support, and I'll be linking your reblogs to the original post below as a way of saying thank you 💖

Still, for those of you who read it before, I'll be adding some paragraphs and sentences here and there that I believe will enrich the reading experience, and I'll highlight them in different colors just in case you'd like to check them 🥰

@bberetd @kimasousparky @artycomicfangirl @keakruiser

@aqua-peri @jellyfishinc @doodleydoo101 Hope it's okay that I tag you since I believe you didn't get to see the original post and I thought perhaps you might be interested. Of course, if you want your tag to be removed, just let me know! 💖

As I mentioned here, I decided to redo this post mainly because of the songs I linked and translated on my side blog, as the original ones were lost when my old blog was deactivated. I want readers to have the chance to listen to each song and understand their meaning if they're interested, so that they can enjoy the entire experience. Still, some of the lyrics would change a bit in Luigi's version to fit with Daisy's appearance (like the "white cheeks" for example, as I headcanon Daisy has tanned skin) and their love story. Apart from that, they are songs that make me think a lot about this couple and their romance, so I hope you'll like them if you give them a listen! 🥰

Without further ado: let's-a go! ✨

Spontaneous serenade

The first time Luigi sang for Daisy was almost accidental. After their first date many more followed, and Luigi gradually became more and more comfortable in the company of Daisy, who showed him by her actions and affection that she liked every part of him and, therefore, he could be himself when he was with her.

Since they had danced together in the park on their first date, Daisy suggested one night that they go to a club to dance for a while. Luigi wasn’t too sure, as he’s not very fond of crowds, but Daisy had taken this into account and took him to a very quiet place located near the beach, in the Muda Kingdom in Sarasaland. Some of its inhabitants were there, but not too many, and the music was at a volume that allowed conversation. This certainly reassured Luigi and allowed him to enjoy the evening after all.

Daisy, knowing his shyness, didn't ask him to dance in the center of the dance floor: they kept to one corner, chatting while standing, and they had a few drinks as they enjoyed the music. Sometimes they’d sway gently when some lively song played, encouraging them to let themselves be carried away by the rhythm. But then one of Luigi's favorite songs came on, and enthusiasm shone on his face as he discovered that Daisy loved it too. He immediately forgot that they weren’t alone: in a sudden display of boldness, Luigi grabbed Daisy by the waist and improvised a dance with her as he began to sing with all his energy and passion.

Daisy was taken aback but did not complain at all. Since she loves dancing, she immediately adapted to Luigi's movements, and with a rapt smile, kept her eyes fixed on him while Luigi sang the romantic lyrics of the song, totally devoted and enjoying every note. He even took her by the hand and spun her around before drawing her back to him, and as he continued to sing, he did so while looking into her eyes with intensity, as if declaiming poetry, his voice laden with a sweetness that rivaled that of honey.

And Daisy felt herself melting. That was the moment when she knew with absolute certainty that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with that sweet man whose bright blue eyes watched her with such warmth and devotion. That sweet and charming man who used to be so shy but who didn't hesitate to show his confident and daring side when he was with her. She loved that contrast in his personality, and it filled her with joy to know that she was one of the few people with whom he felt comfortable enough to bring out his bold side.

It made her feel so lucky and privileged.

Art by @lizannamae on Tumblr.

Songs for Daisy

That night, as he sang with his eyes lost in Daisy's, Luigi realized that she had loved listening to him… and found that he had enjoyed it too. After all, it was a way of expressing how much he loved her and how deep his feelings for her were. And he found himself wanting to serenade her and use music as a way of declaring his love for Daisy.

So he set to work. First he tried taking the ukulele with him on some of the dates they had in the park and on the beach, and he improvised some romantic melodies and lyrics for her while Daisy listened mesmerized. Sometimes she began clapping in rhythm, and other times she got up and began to rock softly to the pace of the tune Luigi plucked from his instrument.

And he treasured every second, but he felt he could do more for her. That she deserved more.

She deserved the world.

Art by LinkerArts on Deviant Art.

The ukulele offered a good way to improvise quick, happy tunes, but Luigi felt a fervent desire to create music pulsing in his veins. He wanted to compose songs for Daisy, songs whose lyrics she could learn in order to sing them along with him if she wanted to, songs that would entice her to sway her body with that hypnotic charm that captivated Luigi and left him speechless. The melodies flowed in his mind, as did different lines born from his deep and pure love for the flower princess.

He then began to write them down. Phrases that alluded to her beauty, her joy, her energetic personality. Sentences that expressed how she drove him mad in the best way possible, how he was simply unable to stop thinking of her, how he couldn't wait to spend every second of his life with her, his desire to always see and make her happy. Luigi poured all his feelings onto paper as he hummed the tunes in his head and decided to replace the ukulele with the guitar to try to give them shape.

Not long after, Luigi surprised Daisy with a moonlit picnic in a quiet corner in the woods near the beach where he had so often jammed music for her on the ukulele. The sound of the waves lulled them as they dined on the delicious dishes Luigi had prepared for Daisy, her favorites, and the candles he’d brought were hardly necessary given the brightness of the huge full moon.

Due to nerves, Luigi was almost unable to eat, but he enjoyed watching Daisy savoring the dinner he had cooked for her. The princess, however, realized that something was wrong with him, always concerned about his well-being and comfort. Not wanting to worry her, Luigi decided to grab his guitar and leave the food for later.

And, looking Daisy in the eyes, he started playing.

(Song: Tragicomedia, Estopa)

"Yo, que vivo en la luna, quiero darte mi granito de arena..."

Daisy was speechless. Luigi's hands flowed with delicacy and mastery as they plucked chords from the guitar, and his voice emerged from his throat firm, confident and somewhat husky, and he was singing in Spanish! For her! The princess was convinced that, had she not been sitting on the grass in front of him, her legs would have turned to jelly, and she would have needed to sit down urgently.

The sight of Luigi playing and singing for her, the guitar resting on his crossed legs, his hands moving deftly up and down the neck of the instrument, his eyes watching her intently with a special, intense glow shining in them, the soft, confident smile dancing on his lips as he intoned the most romantic lyrics Daisy had ever heard...

"Y si tengo que morirme, que me muera en primavera, pa' poder echar raíces y vivir siempre a tu vera."

A sigh escaped from deep within her core and she needed to bring a hand to her chest to calm her racing heartbeat. Her cheeks were burning.

Luigi's smile widened, and his voice gained assurance as he realized that she was enjoying the experience. Daisy listened to him attentively for a few seconds longer, her heart melting at each line with which Luigi expressed his love for her, an endearing smile painted on her lips. She didn't notice she had begun to silently cry until Luigi himself, concerned, stopped playing and reached out his hands to cup her face lovingly. Daisy was surprised to feel the wetness on her cheeks, but smiled and reassured her boyfriend that they were tears of emotion. Luigi's gesture had touched her heart.

Despite the tears, she couldn't restrain herself: she leaned her head forward and kissed him.

Art by @arktm on Tumblr.

Luigi the Musician

The first song Luigi wrote for Daisy was followed by many more. At first, Luigi was afraid that the princess would get emotional again, so he thought that maybe he should keep his new songs to himself. They emerged from deep within his soul, and he couldn't, and wouldn't, hold them back, so quitting creating them was out of the question.

But, to his surprise, he found that, on their next date, Daisy sheepishly asked him if he had written any more songs, as she’d love to hear them. Luigi hadn’t brought his guitar with him that time, but he didn’t hesitate to start singing with the sole accompaniment of his hands clapping, something that Daisy began to replicate almost instantly (Song: Cuando amanece, Estopa). That time, even though she was also moved by the beauty of his verses, she didn't cry, which encouraged Luigi to keep bringing his guitar to their next dates to continue serenading her.

Daisy came to enjoy the experience of hearing him play for her so much that she ended up improvising her own dances to sway to the music he created, fulfilling Luigi's wish that they could share their passion for music and enjoy it together. He went on to create many, many songs during the early years of their relationship, including a very special one he composed after the first time they slept together (Song: Tan dulce, Estopa).

Daisy learned them all by heart. More than once, when he came to Sarasaland for a surprise visit, Luigi found her singing, with no musical accompaniment, the lyrics he had written for her.

And on those occasions it was he who was moved.

But Luigi doesn't just play the guitar and ukulele. Another musical instrument that he's passionate about playing is the violin, because it is, in his opinion, one of the instruments capable of creating the most beautiful and harmonious melodies that reach deep into the heart and soul of those who listen to them and can make them dream and be transported to faraway lands where everything is possible. He learned to play it when he was in high school, and he came to be a great violinist, but, unfortunately, a bad experience with his classmates made him move away from his passion for the violin for a long time.

However, it was precisely thanks to Daisy that he remembered how much he enjoyed plucking beautiful notes from this instrument after so many years devoted almost exclusively to the guitar. On one of the occasions when they were alone at his home, Daisy noticed the forgotten violin lying inside Luigi's closet when he opened it in search of a blanket to cuddle up with so they could read together on the sofa. She was fascinated when he explained that he used to play it, and she immediately started to clap as she expressed her eagerness to hear him play.

Luigi couldn't stop the bad memories from flooding back into his head, but Daisy's lovely and shiny gaze, filled with excitement, accompanied by the good feelings she kindled in him, managed to eliminate those remembrances in the blink of an eye. When he was with her, Luigi felt safe, comfortable, secure. Nothing bad would happen if he played the violin for his beloved princess.

He felt rusty after so many years, so it took him a few minutes to get used to it again. However, once he did, he decided to surprise Daisy by playing the same song that played on their first date and made them dance together for the first time. Their first song.

And Daisy recognized it and, again, was moved, but the smile on her lips made her face glow with pure joy.

Luigi didn't know how to compose a song on the violin, so he was content to leave the creation to his guitar and decided to treat Daisy to the most beautiful melodies he knew and that, he hoped, she’d like. Merry go round of life was only the first, for it was followed by many others such as Mi manchi, A postcard to Henry Purce and Valse sentimentale, as well as several other famous waltzes that sounded wonderful on Luigi's hands.

Daisy loved them all, but above all, she adored the passion with which Luigi played, always closing his eyes to let himself be completely caught up with the melodies that emerged from his violin and reached the princess' heart. She took the habit of almost always wearing a dress to their dates, or at least a skirt, so that she could dance not only to the songs Luigi wrote for her with his guitar, but also to the ones he played on his violin. Even though she always preferred to dance with him, and he with her, she knew that he loved to watch her dance to his music. He was hypnotized by her movemens while she was entranced by the tunes he played. So she let herself be carried away by the beautiful chords of the violin and performed the waltzes by herself under his attentive and ardent gaze.

And then, when they were alone in the princess' chambers, Daisy would "steal" Luigi's cell phone and select all those songs, one by one, so they could dance to them in the privacy of their room and, at last, together, giving them the chance to let the passion that burned in their hearts take the lead.

A very special night

Music and dancing, like reading and gardening, became two of the many passions Luigi and Daisy shared. They were very important to them, practically essential to their relationship. Whenever they saw each other, some harmonious melody would accompany them, either played by Luigi or playing in his phone to make their evening more pleasant and entice them to dance. It was something vital in their lives and it also defined their relationship, as music had witnessed the birth and growth of their romantic bond and how it only became stronger over time.

Therefore, for Luigi, it was only logical and natural that music also attested the moment when he would ask Daisy to be his forever.

More than that: it was going to be what helped him propose.

On this occasion, he preferred to arrange an intimate dinner in a place where they could be completely alone. He wanted the evening to be special, to make Daisy feel special, just as she is in his eyes. But he also didn't want it to be all public so that she’d be forced to say yes if she didn't want to take the next step. Luigi knows all too well how horrible social pressure can be, so there was no way he was going to subject his girlfriend to anything remotely like that.

So he decided to surprise her at the Sarasaland library, where they've spent many good times since they first celebrated Book Day together. Daisy had a busy day ahead of her with her royal duties as monarch of the empire, so Luigi suggested that, when she finished, she put on her best clothes and join him in the library to have dinner together and relax after her tiring day. He doesn't know yet how he was able to conceal the nerves that gripped every corner of his body.

While Daisy was away, Luigi, with the help of Mario, Peach and Toad, organized everything in the library. The day before, Princess Peach had helped him choose the most suitable dishes for such a special night, so they prepared them together in the morning and brought them to Daisy's home from the Mushroom Kingdom. Together with Mario and counting on his invaluable help and talent, Luigi had composed what was his most romantic song to date, with certain parts in Spanish to surprise Daisy so that she’d truly understand what a huge place she had earned in his heart.

He simply couldn’t see his life without her in it anymore.

Art by mong_milo on X

During the afternoon, Peach and Toad advised Luigi about his outfit, as he was unable to make up his mind and his anxiety was skyrocketing as the time approached. Finally, the princess encouraged him to opt for a dark blue suit jacket, very elegant and appropriate for a proposal, and Toad chose for him a green bow tie and a light blue shirt that enhanced his eyes.

They left for Sarasaland all together when dinner was still a couple of hours away. Luigi was a bundle of nerves, his heart fluttering in his chest like a hummingbird, and he clung to the guitar as if it were a life preserver. Mario made sure to be by his side, comforting him with soothing words and cracking a joke or two to get a few laughs out of him and help him relax.

When they arrived, Daisy had not yet finished, which gave them some leeway. They made their way to the library and Luigi chose the corner by the window to set up the table. Peach and Mario helped him serve the dishes, and Toad took care of placing Luigi's guitar near the table. Luigi was surprised to discover that Mario, secretly, had decided to bring Luigi's violin and ukulele as well, just in case he felt like he needed to de-stress a bit by playing something quieter first before asking Daisy the big question.

Peach disappeared shortly thereafter to meet Daisy and help her choose her outfit, and Mario and Toad encouraged Luigi to practice the song as they’d rehearsed it to try and keep him as calm as possible. Luigi thanked them heartily.

Art by Fioreandresr on Deviant Art

His brother and his friend left him alone shortly before the appointed time. Mario said goodbye with a tight hug that gave him warmth and reassurance, and Toad did with an energetic handshake that elicited a genuine giggle from Luigi. As they left, they continued to wink and cheer him on to wish him the best of lucks.

Then Daisy appeared in the doorway. She was dressed in a beautiful purple dress that matched her auburn hair perfectly, with star patterns on the flowy skirt and a tight, sequin-covered bodice. Her gloves were lilac and a bit longer than the white ones she usually wore, her beautiful hair fell down her shoulders like a cascade made of autumn leaves, and she had put on a light pink lipstick that made it extremely difficult for Luigi to look away from her full and tempting mouth.

He gasped first and swallowed later. She looked more than stunning. She looked radiant. She looked dazzling. She looked breathtaking.

He certainly seemed to have forgotten how to breath.

He was going to propose to the most beautiful woman in all universes and his heart galloped wildly in his chest at the mere thought.

During the date, despite his nerves, Luigi was able to give Daisy the attention she deserved while she told him about the boring day she had had as she was forced to attend to her royal duties. For her, this dinner meant being able to relax and be herself at last, plus, of course, having a nice time in the best company. She didn’t fail to praise the food that, again, he had prepared, though Luigi made sure to point out that Peach had helped him this time, especially with the dessert, a delicious marble cake that they’d chosen especially for her, as it’s Daisy's favorite.

The princess, as smart as ever, noticed that Luigi had brought his three instruments with him, and asked if he could play one of her favorite pieces on the violin after dinner. Luigi, relieved to have a little more time to work up the courage to ask her to marry him, didn’t hesitate to oblige. Daisy closed her eyes and rocked to the melody, enjoying every note Luigi played for her, and he found himself feeling more and more relaxed as the piece progressed.

Next, since he hadn’t jammed any verses for Daisy in a very long time, Luigi opted to pick up his ukulele and let himself be carried away by what came from his now tranquil heart. He serenaded Daisy about her beautiful hair the color of autumn leaves, about the constellation of freckles that dotted her lovely cheeks, about the deep, beautiful sea into which he plunged every time he looked into her eyes, about how the dress she wore tonight made her look like a shimmering star fallen from the firmament. Daisy felt her heart swell more and more in her chest and a lump form in her throat at the profound and sincere love that this sweet man felt for her, which she, of course, reciprocated. She felt like the luckiest woman in the world. She knew she was the luckiest woman in the world.

Then, after a few cuddles and kisses, it was time. Luigi stood up, switched the ukulele for the guitar and turned to Daisy with the instrument ready in his hands, the princess gazing at him with her blue eyes shining with anticipation and affection, a soft smile in her beautiful and full lips.

And just before he started singing his new song, Luigi realized that he felt no trace of nerves.

(Song: Cuando cae la luna, Estopa)

He began to play the first notes with confidence and poise, his eyes fixed on Daisy's, piercing her with his intensity. His voice came out steady and serene, flowing effortlessly, as easily as the air flowing in and out of his lungs. It felt like this was what he was meant to do, the reason he was born. After all, he was expressing his feelings to the woman he was deeply in love with and for whom he’d give his entire life without a second thought. For him, it was simple, natural, spontaneous. For him, loving Daisy was like breathing.

The princess had stood up to listen to him with her full attention and, also, to dance, but, given the passion that radiated from Luigi's eyes as he sang for her and only for her, she remained staring at him spellbound, mesmerized by his deep voice, his beautiful words and his gaze full of sheer adoration and devotion. She just rocked softly, with a sweet, soulful smile on her lips, whose color matched perfectly with her dazzling dress and her tanned skin. She couldn't take her eyes off Luigi's.

He had been approaching her as he sang, smiling assuredly, also swaying to the rhythm of the melody he was creating. He felt entirely in his element, not just confident but also delighted, enjoying the moment to the fullest, and Daisy’s entranced expression only encouraged him to go on. She made him feel brave, strong, capable of anything, and he decided to allow himself to be carried away by the boldness she roused in him and started to kneel slowly to her attentive and surprised gaze. His grin widened when Daisy, realizing that Luigi was now singing in Spanish, put a hand to her chest with an amazed gasp.

“Y yo te digo: ¡morena, vente conmigo! ¿No ves que me desespero? Escucha bien lo que digo: prometo llevarte al cielo si te casas tú conmigo.”

Daisy gasped even louder and covered her mouth with her hands. She remained like that for a few moments until she managed to breathe again, but her breath sounded choked with emotion and her body began to tremble before the first tears sprang to her eyes. Noticing that Luigi, concerned, stopped playing and sat up, one arm outstretched toward her, Daisy was quick to nod, shaking her head up and down frantically as a strangled sob broke from her throat and ended up turning into a high-pitched shriek. She pounced on Luigi as she laughed and cried at the same time, wrapping her arms around his neck and squeezing him with all her might, and he barely had time to let go of his guitar to return her embrace with the same intensity.

Delighted at her reaction and relieved to have been able to carry out the proposal as he wished, Luigi chuckled as well and began to spin around with her in his arms, at which Daisy raised her head and stretched her arms out to her sides, laughing with joy as tears of pure emotion spilled down her cheeks. Her auburn hair and flowing skirt danced with the movement, creating a myriad of colors that made it impossible for Luigi to look away. She was more beautiful than ever.

As he twirled, Luigi couldn't stop gazing at her. After a few giggles, Daisy returned his glance fervently and rested her arms around his neck again. Luigi stopped swirling little by little, his eyes trapped in those of the princess, his girlfriend, his future wife, the queen of his heart. She slowly leaned towards him with a knowing smile. Luigi also drew one quickly before their lips met and started devouring each other with passion.

That night they danced a dance in which neither music nor words were necessary.

Just the two of them.

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Thank you so much for reading! Here are the reblogs the original post got so you can read other people's opinions if you'd like. Of course, thank you so much to each and every single one of you for your lovely feedback! 💖

-@dragon-fly34's reblog.

-@vulpixfairy1985's reblog.

-@teegeeteegee's reblog.

-@peaches2217's reblog.

-@itsavee4117's reblog.

-@knighted-princess's reblog.

-@dragon-fly34's answer (sorry I didn't get to reply btw! 🙏).

Of course, thank you to @wahooitsamee, @megamagimugi, @kelbreyworshipper and @ask-rosalina-and-her-family for your lovely comments on the original post! I deeply appreciate it 🥰

Also, I hope it's okay if I ask those of you who already reblogged the original post to perhaps consider reblogging this one too, so it reaches a wider audience now that it's fixed. I'd sincerely appreciate that 🥰

Comments and likes are obviously more than welcome too, and please remember that my asks and PMs remain open for whoever would like to reach out, share an idea, ask me anything...

Thank you so much for your help in building up this new blog, and I hope you're ready for more Luaisy and musicians content coming in the future 🥰

EDIT: I would just like to add that it's totally fine if you'd like to create something inspired by this post, as long as you properly credit me, of course! That's all I ask for 💖

66 notes · View notes

joydoesathing · 2 months ago

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IT NEEDS TO BE SAID!!!

Joy… Lets just… appreciate your brain.

Like, in OG tnmn if a guys is wearing a tie, you manage to put in in the gender bend’s design (Agnes’ necklace, W’s necklace, Izabelle’s scarf, Francis’ dress she wears under the milklady coat, arlenes scarf etc etc)

You stick to their OG colour pallete! Like how Martins tie has the polka dots (ref to Margerettes dress) and Raffael’s Hawaiian t-shirt!

Hair. THE WAY YOU DESIGNED EACH CHARACTERS HAIR. I LOVE IT!

THE WAY YOU DRAW SHOES. I COULD NEVER!

You actually stick to like, 50s fashion. Like, accurate 50s fashion.

Your artstyle itself is just gorgeous

They just LOOK like their genderbend’s genderbend. You can easily tell who’s who without confusion

Character design isn’t even the SURFACE of your creativity.

YOU MAKE EXTREMELY GOOD LORE FOR YOUR CHARACTERS!!!

Im being fr, you’re a really good storyteller.

You see the characters as real life people with actual stories and views.

YOU DO RESEARCH!!!!!! THIS IS ONE OF THE THINGS I APPRECIATE THE MOST! You actually research and understand facts about the 50s and its customs and what they considered normal!

Something else I like about the characters is that they’re realistic, yes I’m extremely delusional and want Frances x Nacho to be together but they aren’t exactly made for eachother, which is why they aren’t together. WHICH MAKES SENSE!

YOU WOULD WILLINGLY CHANGE A CHARACTER’S LORE IF SOMETHING NEW IS DISCOVERED IN THE GAME! I’m mainly talking about Dr. w and Michael, you changed their age (27 to 36) when the th project document got solved, and you said youd change some things up abt Wil’s lore again in campaign mode

Okay, so this might be controversial but… I really appreciate how You didn’t draw NSFW of Nacho x Frances. Yes, they’re your characters and you have to power to draw whatever you want with them (chelsea in the corn outfit lmao) But you chose not to draw NSFW of the 2. FRANCES WAS SEVENTEEN! Imho, you made a good decision.

YOU ACTUALLY UNDERSTAND ALL THE BIASES! Martin was judged because of his eye, Wilma was judged because she was a WOMAN, and Anatolii is judged because of not having a mother and glenn and arlene are judged for their race.

THE CHARACTERS ARE REALISTIC! NONE OF THEM HAVE A ‘PERFECT’ LIFE. THEY ALL HAVE FLAWS AND PROBLEMS THAT THEY’VE FACED. I WOULD LIST THEM ALL BUT THAT WOULD TAKE FOREVER!

Okay thats chap 1 of me talking abt how much i appreciate ur au.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

My heart cannot- thank you for appreciating the effort that i invest too much into the characters 💗

when I made this AU, I initially did it for making genderbent designs for them but afterwards i thought that it would be more fun for the neighbors to have they're own individual traits and detailed stories!

i value putting in all my effort I can give to make sure everyone is their own character at the end of the day.

not to be judgemental but i kind of find it very unsatisfying when there's only certain neighbors that are given so much emphasis and detail and the rest are treated like "props" or their personality, dialogue, actions and drive are solely built around the certain character/s with a lot of detail to make them look better or have story development while the "prop" characters themselves remain stagnant with no interesting traits to them or only one-dimensional traits

and honestly for me, i feel like the characters would be more interesting and fun if they were kind of realistic ,aka have some kind of character development and have faced struggles and biases on the way, so that from there, the neighbors, while coming from very different backgrounds and lives, can still connect, empathize and make bonds with each other via similar struggles in their lives :))

so in conclusion: my enthusiasm for making genderbent designs for them + wanting all of them to be actual characters with character gave birth to what is known as my genderbend au. it became my little isolated platform in the tnmn fandom where i can go crazy with these expectations and wants for the neighbors without necessarily conflicting with the hcs that people have for the OG neighbors

(also I don't mind if you make a whole ass list)

#ask stuff #that's not my neighbor #genderbend #au stuff

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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago

Text

thots

First, I am so grateful to everyone who reads my stories and gets invested in my characters. I love and appreciate you all so much.

I'm just getting a little introspective because I have several new stories I want to unleash, but I've been holding back because of how many active characters I already have, and I don't know how many different ongoing AUs/fics people can handle. I put out stories, people ask for more, and I always have more thots to give. But as a result, sometimes I don't let myself explore other things. When people constantly ask for updates on things, I take it as a compliment, but maybe subconsciously I'm also letting it restrict me creatively by feeling obligated to try to update everything with a certain frequency. It would be easy to tell me to just wrap up certain AUs when those aren't your favorites, but I shouldn't have to if I have more thots for the future. Also, my thots just aren't predictable enough to say ok I'm hibernating x and y character for z amount of time.

I'm realizing I have anxiety about releasing new stories due to the perception that I'm neglecting others. It was so much easier in the beginning when I didn't have so many things we were attached to lol. I guess I'm sick of holding back on new stuff. For an optimal experience, I humbly suggest having low expectations and going with the flow. Either way, I'm going to HC that's what you're doing lol. It's for my own good. Meanwhile, to support your favorite characters, you can reblog/comment if you haven't already, or when you re-read.

I recognize this is a very good "problem" to have, and I'm honored by it. This may sound like one big humble brag to haters, but I don't care, I'm trying to be open.

I'm thinking about all this because I really want to unleash a specific new dark!Javi P.

p.s. see my reblog for another anxiety I'm trying to face and release related to being able to post hypotheticals and lore

- and don't worry about expressing your enthusiasm.

#toxicanonymity writer's room

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encanto-extended-edition · 1 year ago

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✨️Bienvenido, everyone! Thank you all for your patience with this event, we are so excited to share this with you! ✨️

To start, we are your lovely hosts for the Encanto OC Appreciation Event:

Amanda @overly-dramatic-artist & Pena @dororoxpenana!

You may recognize us in the Encanto OC community already with our OCs Angela Morales Estrada (Amanda) and María Madrigal (Pena), but you’ll find out more about them during the event! 💖

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♡ The main goal and drive of this event is to spread some much needed love and appreciation to our fellow OC creators! You are all such a gift to this fandom, and it’s more than time to recognize each other! While we will be reblogging everyone’s creations on to this blog, this event will only work as intended if you all interact with each other! We can speak for almost everyone when we say that it is entirely welcome for you to go feral in the tags and comments. Share your enthusiasm. Go wild. If someone says something kind to you, you are legally required to pass that on ten-fold (Just kidding, but please please interact with each other!). ♡

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✨️The Prompts!✨️

👋🏼 Week One (October 1-7) : Introduction. Time to share the lore of your OC! For this week, we are looking for your OC’s backstory, what connects them to canon, and who they are as a person! This can include detailed character sheets, a written backstory, drawings of them through stages of life, how you developed this character, even a ‘slide show’ of their background; literally anything pertaining to who they are.

❤️ Week Two (October 8-14) : Relationships. Let’s take a deep dive into the interpersonal relationships of your OC! Family, friends, lovers…enemies? For this week, share any works that give us a look into who your OC is connected to; it can be a family tree, drawings of them with friends, their wedding; as long as there is some form of connection, you’re golden!

🌟 Week Three (October 15-21) : Extras and Add-Ons. Have an AU? Or two? Or ten? All you full of bits of information and side stories? Share it all! This week is for you to share anything and everything you want. Any sort of obscure alternate timeline, a detailed overview of their sense of fashion, pieces of trivia like their favorite food or weather, what their handwriting looks like, comics you’ve been wanting to share. Anything and everything is game!

🫂 Week Four and a Half (October 22-31) : Share the Love. Spread around the appreciation for your fellow artists and writers! Send head-canons or thoughts about someone else’s OC, or maybe some artwork or a one-shot! Or even express your delight for another person’s creativity. We highly encourage you to engage with people you may not be super familiar with.

You are more than welcome to use older material for this event, especially for the first three weeks, but we just ask that you make a new post with this blog tagged so we know to reblog it! New creations are greatly encouraged, but we understand that making art and writing is time consuming 💖 You can also make multiple posts for each week if you have a lot to share, don’t feel pressured to cram everything into one post!

‼️Rules regarding the event:‼️

🔴Please refrain from comparing OCs against each other or to canon characters in a negative manner. This event is meant to appreciate everyone’s efforts, we’ve all dealt with enough negativity already. Be kind.

🔴We want to keep this event friendly for all ages in the fandom, so we will not be reblogging any blatant NSFW content on to the blog. You are welcome to share things of adult-theme, but just know we won’t be sharing it from our platform (we’ll drop a like though).

🔴Any content of incestuous nature will not be allowed whatsoever. This is a one strike policy. Don’t do it.

🔴No tracing or stealing works from other artists/writers. If you have commissions or artwork made by other people for you, that is more than welcome, but do not steal someone else’s work.

🔴No content made using AI

🔴Keep in mind this is not a contest or a competition; please be kind to other artists and writers. We are all on equal ground here.

✨️Please tag our event blog (this one!) as well as using the hashtag ‘encanto oc appreciation’ & 'encanto oc event' as we want everyone’s work to be shared on our blog like an archive of love!✨️

💖If you have any questions, please feel more than welcome to reach out! We want this event to be as fun as possible! 💖

#encanto #encanto oc event #encanto oc appreciation

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snickerdoodlepie · 22 days ago

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When Christmas Goes Delightfully Wrong

Christmas is a time of laughter, love, and cheer, urging families to prepare for its celebration weeks ahead. But how would it be if what was planned isn't what is due?

Christmas had always been one of the most anticipated seasons of the year for me. The memories I’d build each time with my family and friends never failed to be unforgettable. But there was one particular December that changed everything, the kind of day you could look back on and feel it alter something deep in you—a day that will forever hold a special place in my heart.

The day before Christmas of 2022 had an unhurried, lazy feel, like a typical weekend without a single plan or task due. I was sprawled out on the floor, aimlessly browsing the internet and wondering how I’d spend the remaining hours of the day. Then it struck me—why not reconnect with my love for drawing in a way that challenged me? I then dabbled in sketching here and there, but something about today made me feel like going further, diving back into an old passion. With this idea in mind, I planned to create an animatic as a Christmas gift for a special friend of mine. These so called animatics involve digitally drawn storyboards with lyrical music set in the background to aid the narrative's storytelling element. Energized by this goal, I spent the entire day creating and perfecting every detail, even having enough time to create digital Christmas cards for my family and other friends.

As night began to settle, I heard my mom call from downstairs, asking me to come down to talk with her about something important. I slid down the stairs to meet her, curiosity sparking as I saw her waiting expectantly.

“Ewel,” she began, “we’re doing something different tonight. Instead of having dinner at your grandparents’ place, like we always do, we’re going to McDonald’s in Valencia City.”

I blinked, surprised. “All of a sudden? Why?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“Well, Luke won a McDonald’s coupon from an event at his school,” she explained. “He said he wanted to use it for a family dinner tonight.”

A smile broke across my face, excitement bubbling at this unexpected change. Luke had never won anything in a contest before, so it felt like a mini celebration for him too. I rushed back to my room to get ready for the evening, brushing my hair, putting on a bit of makeup, and grabbing my favorite jacket. The more I thought about it, a huge array of possibilities for the night began to fill my mind with warmth and anticipation.

Soon enough, my mom called for me again, and I hurried downstairs, ready for the short drive. We stopped by my grandparents’ house to pick them up, where Luke’s older brother Hobe suddenly begged our grandma to ride in a different car so he could sit next to me. She sighed but agreed, and soon Hobe and I were chatting up a storm in the backseat. We discussed plot leaks from upcoming animes like Demon Slayer and Attack on Titan, adding in some talk about the latest updates in Genshin Impact, from new character releases to theories about upcoming game lore. I could hardly keep up with Hobe’s enthusiasm, and yet, it filled me with a sense of comfort and nostalgia—a simple, familiar joy.

As we drove along, I caught glimpses of the soft, peaceful scenery passing by outside, giving me a moment to appreciate the calm night surrounding us. Once we arrived at McDonald’s, though, the peace was replaced by the lively, bustling chaos of the holiday crowd. The restaurant was packed to the brim, with people lined up and some even filing complaints about their orders. My mom glanced at me with a thoughtful look, clearly weighing out her options.

“Mom, should we really eat here?” I whispered, tugging gently on her sleeve.

She sighed, “Well, we came all this way, and we don’t want to waste Luke’s coupon. We’ll make it work. Just wait outside, okay? I’ll call you if I manage to find a table.” I nodded, trying to keep a poker face as I stepped outside into the cool December air. The chill hit my face, a comforting reminder of the season’s specialness. “What a beautiful night,” I murmured, taking a deep breath and feeling grateful for the little things.

My younger cousin, Luke, suddenly tapped me on the shoulder. “Ate, can I see the drawing you told me about?” he asked eagerly. Smiling, I pulled up the animatic I’d been working on earlier that day, sharing it with him as we waited.

Minutes passed with our family gathered in the parking lot, while my mom and my aunt continued to wait in line. Soon enough, the familiar smell of fries and nuggets filled the air. “Food’s here!” Hobe shouted in excitement.

My dad looked at my mom and asked, “Why’d you get takeout?”

She shrugged, “The place is packed, not a table open anywhere. We’d be standing there forever. So, it’s dinner in the cars.”

I froze for a second, processing the reality—just hours before Christmas, and we were about to have a family dinner in a McDonald’s parking lot. The idea was so bizarre, yet it excited my heart, bringing with it a comforting sense of simplicity.

With everyone gathering, we split up, with all the kids piling into my aunt’s car, awaiting our share of food. As my aunt handed out the meals, she laughed awkwardly. “Oh, by the way, they ran out of utensils. So, you’ll have to get a little creative.”

“What?” I exclaimed dramatically, but in truth, the weirdness made it all the more memorable. Eating without utensils? The night was turning out to be more eccentric than expected.

As I looked around, I noticed everyone improvising their own ways to eat. With no hand sanitizer on hand and no chance to wash up, I ended up digging right into the food, hands-free, face-first into my nuggets. From the corner of my eye, I saw Luke using his baby brother’s food bowl, while my aunt fashioned a makeshift glove from a plastic bag. My grandparents, the only ones with utensils, smiled at us, probably thinking about how unusual and funny this whole setup was.

We continued eating, and just as we were finishing up, a group of children carolers came by our car. Being the season of giving, we gave them some money—and even shared some untouched nuggets with them. It reminded me that Christmas was about more than just receiving; it was about spreading kindness and love, sharing what we had, no matter how simple, and behaving like how Our Heavenly Father wanted us to. Glorifying Him with our choices, words, and actions.

As we cleaned up, my mom suggested we visit the nearby plaza. Enthralled by the sparkling lights and the festive music, we all agreed. Walking into the plaza, I felt a sense of peace, like being home. I took a moment to reflect, thinking maybe this was what life was all about—enjoying the gift of the present. People get so caught up in perfection and planning that they sometimes miss the charm of spontaneity.

Just then, I noticed colorful lights shimmering from the corner of my eye. Grabbing my cousins’ hands, I led them toward the plaza’s famous dancing fountain. The vibrant lights and the kids playing around the fountain captivated me. I felt my heart light up with childlike excitement. As I debated the idea of joining them and facing the consequences of being soaked, my mom appeared behind me.

“Do you want to take a bath?” she asked knowingly.

“I do…” I quietly admitted.

She then smiled softly. “Go ahead.” And with her permission, it felt as if any future worry was nothing but trivial. My cousins quickly got approval from their own mom, and the three of us raced toward the fountain, our laughter mingling with the festive atmosphere.

Dodging the jets of water, we found ourselves among other kids, playing, laughing, and just living. For the first time since lockdown, I felt truly free. The night felt like a celebration of life, a reminder of all the beautiful moments I’d missed during those confined days. Families gathered around, watching as we enjoyed the spectacle of lights and water, unknowingly creating memories that would stick with us for years.

After a while, the cold began to settle in, and we wrapped ourselves in blankets, ready to head home. Even though I was chilled from the dampness, a sense of warmth filled me, my heart brimming with contentment.

When we got back, I thought the night was winding down, but I decided to log onto Genshin Impact to complete my daily missions. Scrolling through my friend list, I noticed someone online—a friend from school with whom I’d been chatting more often, one I’d come to realize I might have a crush on. We’d never met in person, but we connected so naturally over random late-night conversations on Messenger.

I felt a rush of excitement as I clicked Join World. Watching the loading screen, my anticipation grew, and when it finally loaded, I was over the moon to see he’d accepted. We spent hours together, fighting monsters and gathering resources, helping each other out to level our characters and weapons. The cutest part is that we even took pictures at the game's prettiest places during our gameplay! You could say that I was constantly kicking my feet in glee the whole time we played.

As midnight drew near, our messages drifted from the game to Messenger's personal chat. Then, as the clock struck twelve, “Merry Christmas!” messages flooded my phone. I dashed downstairs to greet my parents and texted holiday greetings to family and friends. As I checked my inbox, I realized I hadn’t yet messaged him.

“Merry Christmas (^∀^)!” I typed to him.

“Merry Christmas to you too :D.” he replied.

Just when I thought our chat would end, he sparked a new topic, and we kept talking, sharing stories and laughter as the hours slipped by. Time passed almost unnoticed, until we suddenly realized it was nearly four in the morning.

“I can’t believe it’s 4 AM, haha.” I typed, half-laughing at the absurdity of staying up so late.

"Yeah, i just realized too, LOL." he expressed casually.

There was a pause, the kind that feels both comfortable and charged. My heart raced, realizing I was sharing this quiet, magical moment with someone who felt like they really understood me. It was silly, maybe, and a little unexpected, but I felt a warmth that I couldn't quite explain, and that I hadn't felt in a long time.

After a few more messages, he finally typed, "Alright, I should probably sleep now, haha. Merry Christmas again:)."

"Yeah, thank you for your time. I really enjoyed it. Merry Christmas, and goodnight!" I sent back, smiling at the screen like an idiot.

As I finally closed my phone and sank back into bed, I felt content in a way I hadn’t felt in years. There was something so pure about the night—no fancy dinners, no elaborate plans, just family, laughter, a bit of mischief, and a quiet, late-night chat with someone special. It was far from the perfect holiday I’d pictured, but maybe that’s why it meant so much.

That Christmas wasn’t just memorable; it became a reminder that the best moments are often the unplanned ones. And as I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face, I knew that this Christmas would be the one I’d cherish most, a story to tell again and again, like a melodious song replaying in my mind.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

HAPPY HOLIDAYS & GOD BLESS!

#Plates123tonic #all i want for christmas is you #crush #mcdonalds #christmas #Spotify #PlatE-TECHtonic #PlatE-Techtonic

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strawberrypinky · 3 months ago

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fire and ice. [gortash x tav] - part 2 [the waiting game]

Enver was no stranger to playing the long game, so long as he knew he would win with absolute certainty and any risk could be mitigated or forfeited altogether. Elodie Liardon was one such prize, and while he had yet to win her, he knew it was only a matter of time until she would be entirely, unequivocally his.

If only because it had been decreed by powers beyond their comprehension.

A/N: Chapter two here we go baby! Sorry for this taking a while. I was in Paris for the Olympic Games and then unfortunately got really sick when I came back, lol. Anywho. We are absolutely getting deeper into headcanon territory, so let me just say that there are no specifications for Banite marriages (to my knowledge), but there is a lot of material on Bane, his church, clergy and dogma. The wonderful lore compendium made by @y-rhywbeth2 was an absolute godsend for this (alongside the Forgotten Realms Wiki), so shoutout and thank you for the incredible work you've done compiling so much information over all the DnD editions etc.! Additionally, I found some Bane dogma online which is also referenced at certain points in this. Just giving credit where it's due. Lord knows I couldn't come up with all of this on my own if I tried, lol. I'm just playing around with the canon information and uh... potentially making Enver as psychotically Banite as I can. Thank you to everyone who is supporting this story! Your support, however big or small, means the absolute world to me ❤️ On we go with uhm... general Enver, Bane and Elodie shenanigans, I guess. Aka this is yet another reminder that Enver is, in fact, a piece of shit in this and no - Elodie nor I can fix him. As always, this story is also available on Archive of Our Own. Word Count: 7.2k CW: Mentions of prostitution.

Shoutout to my personal cheerleaders @legacygirlingreen and @gufu-vire. Ily gals ❤️

Enver had rarely made the mistake of underestimating people, for in his line of work, that was as treacherous as it was deadly.

Each step was one of measured precision and calculated contingency, allowing none, least of all himself, to falter on the path to greatness. He could not, would not, fail to fulfil his destiny. At times, people were displeased with his enthusiasm - alarmed even at the lengths he would willingly tread to reach his goals. To Enver, it was simply another marker of his god-given preeminence. There was morbid satisfaction in being victorious, no matter the price, and he was hardly capable of feeling guilt. His effrontery was congruous with his rancour, and Enver revelled in landing on top. He had worked tirelessly for years upon years, ruthlessly and ambitiously disposed of those who stood in his way and reeducated and availed of those who yet served as a means to his end. His sense for people had aided him more times than he possibly cared to admit, and while Enver firmly believed none measured up to his genius and vision, he wasn't fool enough to disregard the few who did present with the potential to be equal to himself. To him, it was far more preferable to have a formidable ally than it was to have a formidable adversary, even if his Lord often helmed his hand in affairs such as this. Bane had not steered Enver wrong a single time, strengthening him as his own malevolence fuelled his Lord and, in turn, fuelled him.

His alliance with the Bhaalspawn was one such alliance, though he nearly came to appreciate the Child of Murder on his own terms, even without the tentative and strained relationship between his Lord and the Lord of Murder looming above their Chosen's own. Enver would never fall to the folly of believing the sorcerer to be his friend (not that he believed in friendship anyway), for the scion of Bhaal was not born but created for nothing but annihilation, but their Masters once had a near consanguineous relationship, and if Bane saw value in his now sworn foes spawn, Enver would not undermine him. If anything, the Bhaalspawn, for all their uninhibited murderous urges, was a masterful weapon if cards were played right, and if Enver appreciated anything, it was usefulness. He was still, but a servant to his dread Lord, and in his divine quest for ultimate tyranny, winning was everything as natural as oppression. And while Enver would ultimately need to shatter and thwart all those beneath him, he would utilise the aid of those he and his Lord deemed worthy in the meantime.

One such worthy person, it seemed, was a certain half-elven maiden who had not only intrigued him but Bane himself, too. When Elodie had first graced the gentility of Baldur's Gate upon her debut in society, Enver had made the grave mistake of underestimating her as she parleyed with Duke Portyr, ostensibly oblivious to the gazes of volubly obtuse spinsters and the prurient ogling of men and yet she had intrigued him, if only because she was bewitchingly alluring. When Enver danced with her, he expeditiously realised she wasn't quite as clueless as she had perhaps pretended to be. In truth, the young woman was not clueless at all. She had surprised him with a curious amount of inquisitiveness and acuity, and by the end, he had not only decided she would look delightful, embraced by his Lord, but that he wanted more.

By their second meeting in High Hall and the rather convenient reveal of her parentage, she had also intrigued his Lord. While Enver was far above frivolities such as love and desire, he almost felt giddy when Bane spoke to him a mere day after their brief meeting near the ducal offices.

"I am tyranny. I am hate. I am fear. And you, my Chosen, carry out my divine will on earth. For how it is in the Barrens of Doom and Despair, it shall be in your world. You shall rise above and crush my enemies beneath your boots and conquer the weak as is your place. Marry the Liardon girl. Make her submit as a husband should, for you are the head of her, and I am the Tyrant of you. Carry out my unholy will, and you will be partners in this life and the next. She will carry beacons of your tyranny, and in your matrimony, my might shall guide you and your brood."

Enver had always known that if he were to marry, it would be of a person of Bane's choosing. It was the way matrimony has been handled in his Lord's church ever since it first established itself. Marriage was holy, but love held no place in them when all they served as were means to strengthen Bane and his divine will. And while Enver had known a select few of his Brothers and Sisters in faith to marry of their own choosing, he held no such interest himself as love was a frivolity he would not indulge in, lest of all it rendered him weak and assailable - things he had promised himself to never be. And yet he was entirely pleased when Bane had decreed he should marry Elodie Liardon, for the young woman was not only beautiful, but her wit was undeniably useful.

He liked her. Enjoyed her presence, even.

It was far more than he could ask for, really, as his Lord could have chosen any bride for him, and yet he chose the one Enver might have picked himself if he were capable of love. A rare display of generosity, yet he would never dare question it and instead reverently thanked his Lord for allowing a woman such as her to be his.

He spent a few days weighing his options. Enver knew her father was no votary of his (as Elodie had also aptly realised), and it was unlikely he would voluntarily agree to a marriage between himself and the girl, which left him with three options: ruin the girl for any suitor but himself (he quickly disregarded this; her social status was far too valuable), dispose of Duke Liardon (a feasible option, though not very prudent given the state of affairs) or finally, ensure the girl would not want to marry anyone but him. It was a speculative game at best, but it would buy him time to gather more information on the Liardon family and if he could make the girl believe in some sort of illusion of love in the meantime, all the better.

He spent a near tenday vigilantly preparing for the most opportune moment to arise to get her alone. Or at the very least, without her father around. Enver had met Lady Liardon once a long time ago, but he remembered she was far more agreeable than her husband, and if he was adept at anything, it was swooning wealthy women. His inferiors had been tasked with observing the family. One of the Iron Consuls (Enver did not care which) had gathered that Elodie savoured the gardenia bushes of the private grounds of her residence, which obviously meant Enver held a large bouquet of the white eyesores when he knocked on the door of the Liardon estate the day Duke Liardon was conveniently 'held up' in the Ducal Offices.

A butler had shown him inside, the lavishly grand estate remarkably tasteful, if reeking of age-old affluence. High ceilings with elaborate crown mouldings and endless shades of pastel and white - an expansive and open space stretched before him as he strode along the entry hall, adorned with a myriad of elaborate artwork and invaluable objet-d'arts. It was precisely what Enver had expected: A grandiose setting, much unlike the meagre abode he grew up in until his parents pawned him off to a devil, where he spent the better part of his life feeling as if there was a constricting and stifling noose around his neck as he drowned in the echos of chaos.

"The Lady of the House will be with you shortly," the butler announced as he took his leave and Enver was not even afforded a second of correcting him. He wasn't there for Lady Selise Liardon, but he supposed making a good impression on her wasn't a lost cause.

The aforementioned woman did join him rather promptly, strolling into the drawing room with laissez-faire as she regarded Enver with a polite smile. He regarded her intently, noticing her eyes were as calculating as Elodie's own, the colour shimmering in the sunlight. They were the only pretty thing about her, really. The woman was otherwise not a sight to behold, with a narrow chin and wide cheekbones, entirely out of balance, and ghastly pale skin, which Enver presumed was once tan given the sheer amount of wrinkles that already had been etched into her face. He knew she wasn't that old, younger than his parents, but time had not been particularly kind to her. He silently hoped his soon-to-be wife would age far more gracefully, though she seemed to have inherited her father's elven refinement instead.

Still, Enver offered a polite bow as the woman approached him.

"Sir Gortash," Selise Liardon nodded. "I wasn't expecting any visitors today. My husband will be back a bit later than usual, though you are welcome to wait for him if you'd like?"

"Thank you, Lady Liardon. But I am here to call on your daughter," Enver cleared his throat, a sickly, smarmy voice carrying his words.

"Elodie?" the woman gasped, surprise written on her face.

Unless you have another, Enver nearly rolled his eyes. "Yes. I do hope she is available? I understand if she were otherwise occupied."

"No, no," the Liardon matriarch shook her head, a broad smile on her face. "Of course she is available, just - Bertram!"

The butler from before stepped forward.

"Would you please fetch Elodie? She should be in the library."

The man nodded and left without another word, leaving Enver alone with Elodie's mother as he waited for the actual reason behind his visit. He noted with pleasant surprise that the matriarch was positively beaming, eyeing the bouquet of wretched gardenias in his hands and observing him with near childish delight.

"Forgive me for being bold, but I simply must ask," she nearly giggled. "But are you looking to court my daughter?"

Enver wasn't entirely sure if the woman was jesting or simply daft, though he hardly expected a man like Thamior Liardon to marry someone stupid - much less a human. And yet, the longer Enver stood there in his estate, the more he wondered what the man had seen in his wife. Perhaps she had other, more carnal qualities, he surmised, before deigning to answer her intrepid question. Bane offer him strength.

"I am," he confirmed with a confident smirk. "Your daughter was simply captivating the night of the Breaking, and I have been unable to forget the dance we shared."

He was aware he was laying it on disgustingly thick, yet it seemed to have the intended effect; the woman was nearly bouncing with delight.

"I had hoped she would at least dance with one gentleman," the woman swooned. "How wonderful to see my efforts were not in vain."

"Your efforts?" Enver carefully prodded. He was aware that each step around the gentility had to be far more carefully curated than any step around the proles - they often did not take kindly to snooping. Any information he pried from there were often thinly veiled beneath half-truths or mistakenly told over too many glasses of wine.

"Oh," the woman waved him off. "I needed to positively beg for Elodie to even attend the festivities, especially since I had been unable to. She hasn't been very keen to attend these things."

"I would not have been able to tell," Enver tilted his head. "She seemed to enjoy herself when I found her parlaying with Duke Portyr."

"Probably chewing his ear off about our travels," Selise shook her head. "I was happy to indulge her in her youth, but it is time she fulfils her duties here, in Baldur's Gate. Nevertheless, I am quite happy to hear she danced with at least one gentleman. I was starting to doubt my abilities to raise a proper lady when callers had all denied dancing with her."

Callers? Enver was torn between jealousy and eudemonia. It hadn't been surprising to hear she received visits from men — she was disarmingly beautiful. And yet she was also his. His girl. His. Even with the lack of a betrothal, it was a given that Elodie Liardon belonged to him, as if she had no other value and no life outside of his embrace. It had been divinely sworn and decided by powers beyond their comprehension. If that could not be considered ownership, then what could? And while Enver knew he yet had no claim on her heart — he barely knew the girl! — he didn’t relish the idea of anyone else having it either.

"She is a wonderful dancer," Enver offered, hoping to appease the woman and calm his own envy. "And an even better conversationalist."

"She's quite something, isn't she?" the woman's eyes twinkled mischievously, and Enver almost glimpsed his future's betrothed in them. "I am happy to hear it nonetheless. Most of her visitors haven't enjoyed her wits."

Of course they hadn't; Enver wanted to strangle her where she stood. No one but him could ever hope to measure up to her, much less deserve her. It was no surprise to him they were unable to appreciate her mind.

"I find her refreshing," he only cryptically said. It wasn't a lie, but it was a vast understatement.

"You must be the only one. I swear, that girl is going to chase off one suitor at a time. Too bad Ulder sent his son away; otherwise, I might have been planning a wedding by now."

Enver clenched his jaw, though Selise did not seem to take notice. He remembered the young Ravengard heir, Wilfred or William, or whatever his name was. The boy was, if Enver recalled correctly, Elodie's age and as the son of a Duke perhaps an obvious choice, but luckily for Enver, Ulder Ravengard had sent his son away just a year or two before. However, the reasons remained unknown to him. It was a good thing, really. Enver remembered the boy as an even weaker version of his father.

"I was not aware Elodie was spoken for."

"Oh, by the Morninglords' grace - she isn't. I keep wishing for it. I am not getting younger, and after suffering from Wilting, my priorities regarding her have shifted," Selise Liardon sighed almost wistfully, a faraway look in her eyes. "Truthfully, I don't know how many years I have left. The illness took a lot from me, and I hope to spend my remaining years caring for some grandchildren. May Lathander bless her with more than he did me."

Enver's mind was positively reeling. This visit was already working out splendidly for him. He hadn't been aware that Selise Liardon had suffered from wilting disease, though it would certainly explain why she looked rather hideous - the illness was rather horrid. More importantly, however, she was in a hurry to marry off her only child, which he would most assuredly use to his advantage against Thamior Liardon. It wasn't a secret that the man listened to his wife more often than he did not, and if Enver could sway Selise and Elodie into fulfilling his destiny, the two would easily help persuade the patriarch of the rest.

"I'm sure the gods will be most gracious," Enver only smiled knowingly.

The woman of the hour entered the room, exasperation written on her face. Enver mustered Elodie, dressed far more homey than when he had last seen her in the ducal offices - a pale rose dress, simple though he could venture to guess it was still of fine material - and internally sighed with disapproval and indignation. Lathander's colours; and far too rustic of a dress to be worn by a woman such as herself. Enver made a note to himself to ensure Figaro would be tasked with providing her with a new wardrobe upon their marriage. Blacks, emeralds and delicate embellishments would be far more suitable - he would not have his wife dress like a lowly slave.

She did not take note of Enver, another misstep, really - he would fix her priorities - and instead glanced at her mother with a disapproving glint.

"If you have another suitor waiting, send him away. I've no interest in playing your matchmaking games, let alone parlaying with anyone in the barouche."

Her mother only laughed, though Enver almost detected nervousness beneath the mirthful sound as her eyes flitted between Enver and Elodie, a slightly disapproving glance in her eyes.

"Now, now, Elodie. Not in front of guests," she chastised her. "Besides, I have heard you danced with this one."

The girl finally took note of Enver, and it was the first time Enver could read the surprise on her face, and he liked it. "Gortash?"

"It is good to see you, Lady Elodie," Enver announced, taking slow but measured steps before handing over the flowers with an oily smirk on his face. "Forgive me for not calling on you sooner. My businesses kept me more occupied than I had hoped for."

While Enver could glance Selise Liardon swooning at the corner of his eyes, Elodie only stared at him dumbfounded and wide-eyed, flowers held awkwardly. "I hadn't expected you at all," she finally voiced.

"Well, that makes this an even sweet surprise, doesn't it?" Selise interjected, hastening towards her daughter. "And he brought you your favourite flowers."

"Yes," Elodie dragged the word slowly, her eyes suspicious as she held Enver's gaze. The befuddlement slowly ebbed away, the characteristic sifting gaze Enver had come to know of her replacing her wide eyes. She was trying to make sense of him, he bemusedly realised. It was another reminder of her exquisiteness - a rarity among second-class citizens posing as nobility who might have been decently literate but not clever. As far as Enver was concerned, the nobility of Baldur's Gate was a shapeless mass of fortunate yet barbaric creatures that hovered on the periphery of his consciousness - there, but most assuredly beneath him. Yet, if there had ever been an exception to the rule, it was Elodie Liardon.

“Why don’t you take a stroll in the garden with Bertram? I’ll have the chef prepare some tea in the meantime,” Selise offered, and before Elodie could object (her face certainly showed displeasure), Enver took her hand and pulled her away.

Enver took a single glance at the gardens and immediately hated them.

To any ordinary person, they might have been stunning; embroidered parterre and arabesque gardens that resembled a palatial park far more than they did a garden. The ground fell away on every side from a terrace adorned with ornamental basins, statues, bronze groups, lush flowers, and bushes, creating an almost exotic and fragrant play in front of them. They began to stroll along a broad avenue centred on the grass of a green carpet, flanked by rows of large trees as perfectly manicured lawns draped down to what Enver presumed was a small pond. The olfactory notes of peach, jasmine, citrus, and what Enver presumed to be roses assaulted his senses, and he loathed them. It was so very… titillating. There was an overwhelming sense of renewal and happiness in the air, as if Lathander himself blessed this space. Perhaps he did, Enver grimaced. No matter, his gardens were far more spartan, and he preferred them that way.

They strolled in silence, the vexing butler no more than five steps behind them, and while Enver had expected unnecessary pomp and circumstance, it was astonishingly foreign to pretend to court a woman with little more intention than fucking her and extorting her family, and he did not appreciate how out of control he felt. Enver knew how to falsely woo a woman, yet only a few minutes into this charade, and he knew he hated it. The irritating sunshine of late spring, the nauseatingly fragrant flowers and the birds yakking nonstop - he simply loathed it, and he feared it had barely even begun. Enver could only pray to Bane that the woman was worth it.

When he glanced to his right, Elodie seemed to revel in the sun, contently absorbing the feeling of the sunny rays on her skin and breathing in the fresh air of spring. She was beautiful in the light, Enver noted. Not something that could be said about every noblewoman, most of which concealed their hideous faces beneath the dim lights of the night and face paint. And still there was a hint of something feral beneath it all, and Enver wondered if it was her nature or her calling.

“Were you really surprised I called on you?” Enver broke the silence as they strolled along.

“Yes,” she admitted. “It seems that was a mistake.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

She averted her gaze from the path in front of them, a respectable distance between them now as she looked at him. “You don’t court women, Gortash,” she eventually answered. “I would be surprised if you ever even desired marriage at all. I’d wager whichever God you worship has asked you to marry.”

Enver quickly deflected, not yet willing to engage in the conversation of worship just yet. "You don't seem to look for marriage either if your mother is to be believed."

He watched as the young woman rolled her eyes, an uncharacteristic display of defiance and indignation amidst her carefully constructed poise. "And become a broodmare to some idiotic Upper City gentleman who probably can't tell his left foot from his right? Thank you, but no."

"I'm not sure all of them are idiotic."

"Perhaps not," Elodie acknowledged. "But I have no desire to marry them just the same."

This was going to be much more complex than he had thought; Enver ground his teeth. He contemplated his options, annoyed she wouldn't simply submit in her evident unwillingness to be tamed. Finally someone he could break, someone who wouldn't submit simply because he demanded it. She was viciously feral beneath the nobility, and Enver was ever aroused by it.

"Sometimes our fates are decided by powers higher than ourselves. It would be foolish to deny the path to fulfilling one’s destiny," he commented.

She laughed - a mocking sound and nothing like the melodic tone he had heard the night of the Breaking. "I tread where I please. I don't care what fate my mother or God or being thinks is my destiny."

"So you don't want to marry at all?"

"I'm not sure," Elodie shrugged. "Perhaps someday."

The first time Enver had asked for Elodie Liardon's hand was mere weeks after their first 'official' date.

Naturally, he disregarded Elodie's irascibility and continued to 'court' her to convince both her and Selise (mostly Selise, if he were honest) of the value of a more official union. To him, it was more of a formality than anything else - utterly humdrum and entirely useless. But he complied, enduring endless promenades in that godforsaken garden, tea in the salon and eventually, ice cream dates in the Upper City. Elodie had begrudgingly partaken, her ire barely concealed beneath a pleasant smile and venomous remarks. She was unwilling to submit to the game she had become a pawn in, and with each passing hour, Enver dreamt of the day she would finally submit - a dream sweeter than the conquest of a thousand kingdoms. In another lifetime, he would have long taken her apart and fucked her senseless, but unfortunately, he had to play the long game in this one.

It was maddening at times, because while she could feign innocence all she liked, the girl was hardly unaware of her effect on men and seemed to take vindictive pleasure in pushing his buttons. She wanted him to break, to back down, just as much as he wanted her to submit. During one of their more official outings in the Upper City, she wore a dress so scandalously tight that Enver had almost entirely gleaned her body shape beneath. And while neither her chest nor her ass was particularly large, the swell of her breasts and the delicate arch of her back were alluring enough for him to nearly break. If he were a lesser, weaker man, he likely would have.

Alas, he was still a man, and until Elodie was his in a more official manner, he'd have to make do with finding release elsewhere, lest he squander his tedious work of appealing to her family. The Lower City was full of lowly whores waiting to serve men like him. Perhaps at one point in his life, he'd have pitied them - fucking for money was hardly a pleasurable affair - but alas, he knew cards could be played well enough to escape an endless cycle of transactional sex, and if the whores of Sharess' Caress were fucked brainless it wasn't his place to 'fix' them. They made their bed and would have to lie in it. The brothel reeked of vice and corruption, and the dregs of the Gate's society gathered there in all their rottenness. Charlatans and purloiners (many of which worked for him) rubbed shoulders with scarcely concealed and sleazy nobles, old roués and men like Enver; flourishing underworld types, notorious for things best not spoken of mingled with other speculators, whores and frauds and pimps.

A drow had tickled Enver's fancy - the woman small and slight, though far more voluptuous than his soon-to-be wife. She was pretty enough, even if she would have been hardly worth a second glance outside the tawdry meat market of a place he had entered. Her body, while graceful and smooth, hardly aroused any desire in him. He imagined another entity entirely beneath him, with skin more white and hair that shimmered silver and a voice as sweet as a lullaby, begging Bane to let Enver fill her up.

The whore, whose name Enver had forgotten as soon as he had paid for her services, almost looked offended when the name 'Elodie' spilt from his lips in place of hers, but a single look silenced her before she could begin to speak. Pathetic, he thought, before he left the chamber, knowing Elodie would have never submitted that easily.

He dreamt of what she would be like as he sat in Thamior Liardon's office, waiting for him to graciously appear after he had declined several meetings with Enver.

He imagined she'd be furious and untamed, unlike the wealthy Lords and Ladies he'd deceived in his earlier days who craved gentle touches and slow thrusts. He'd fuck her like a brute, over and over again, until nothing but "Enver" spilled from her lips as she fell apart. Maybe he'd lock her in his bedroom like a bird in a gilded cage and spend the rest of his days in her cunt. Would that anger Bane? Or would his Lord be pleased he conquered her?

"I must say, I wasn't sure when I could expect you, Gortash."

The deep timbre of Thamior Liardon's voice pulled Enver out of his delirium, and the elven man finally appeared in his office. He looked bored, almost a perfected mask of stoicism, though Enver could detect a hint of pique beneath.

"I would have come sooner," Enver divulged. "Your steward was less than accommodating, though."

"How... vexing," Thamior said, though his tone betrayed him. Enver knew he thought his presence far more vexing than an insolent steward would ever be.

Enver rose from his seat, turning to face Thamior Liardon fully, who refused to move far from the door. "You know what I have come here for."

"Of course," Thamior nodded. "You have only been publicly parading my daughter around and beguiling my wife while you've been at it."

"I have been nothing but proper," Enver chuckled, pleased that his efforts had caused the Duke to be irate. "After all, I want to make your daughter my wife. Not my whore."

Thamior was quiet then, his face stoic as he walked to his desk. He kept his back turned to Enver, gazing outside his office window. He didn't even look back when he spoke again.

"Na Kwast Wahir Athu Kyene Wekht Unarihe," he uttered in his native tongue. Perhaps Enver should have picked up the elven language - it seems the Liardon family clung to it still.

"As far as I am concerned, business is usually conducted in a common language," Enver clicked his tongue.

"Business," Thamior chuckled, turning back to Enver with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Is that what my daughter is to you? A transaction?"

"Of course not," Enver denied. She was more than that to him; above all, she was his divine duty. "But a marriage of this scale needs to be discussed. I can hardly do that in elvish."

"Did Raphael not teach you?" Thamior smirked teasingly. "Why he tends to appreciate languages. I almost expected more."

If Enver were a weaker man, he would have cleaved the elf in half for his mockery. The smirk on the Duke's face certainly suggested he felt as if he had won a match of chess the two men were playing, but Enver only laughed. Perhaps once, he would have felt hurt over his past, but now, he only felt burning hate. What once had been prey had turned into a predator who had little reservations about arranging someone's demise. If Thamior Liardon wasn't paramount to the Gate, Enver would have entertained decapitating him, yet while his moral compass swung madly without direction, Enver was above sowing political chaos so long as he didn't have a precise strategy to take the man's place for himself.

"Raphael taught me plenty. But thank you for your concern," Enver mocked in return. "Scared my wits aren't up to your standards?"

"I know better than to question your intelligence, Gortash," Thamior rolled his eyes. "You are a plethora of things, but you aren't stupid."

"Observant," Enver commented coolly. He knew the man didn't mean it as a compliment. "But I'm not here to discuss my genius. I'm here to discuss your daughter."

The man glared at him for a second, sitting down in his grand chair. "Go on then," he nodded. "Make your case."

"I want to marry her, plain and simple," Enver said sharply. "If you expect me to serenade you with romantic soliloquies, you'll wait forever."

"Such a flirt," Thamior chuckled darkly. "Typically, these meetings serve as a way to prove one's worth, not one's love."

"There are few in this city who match my wealth. I hardly think it's necessary to boast." Enver was slowly losing his patience. In the depths of his wretchedly vile soul, he knew what the answer was going to be, and he didn't appreciate it one bit. All his hard work of enduring dates right down the gutter.

"Oh yes. Money you have so honourably earned through your law-abiding business ventures," Thamior's voice was dripped with venomous sarcasm.

"Spare me the false righteousness, Duke Liardon," Enver spat. "For someone who practically lived in a devil's arse, you have little to show for it now."

"Is that so?" Thamior smirked triumphantly. "Unlike you, I have a seat on the Council of Four."

"An inherited seat," Enver corrected him coolly.

"Be that as it may," Thamior waved him off. "My answer is no. You may have my wife under your spell, but I'm not allowing you to marry my only child."

"And why not?" Enver countered like a petulant child. "Your wife is clearly deteriorating and wants grandchildren. I am the only one Elodie has even entertained for more than one meeting. The only one even asking to marry her.

"I would rather choke on Raphael's cock than let my daughter marry you," the Duke stood from his seat. "I don't care what you've made of yourself after your miraculous escape from the Hells, but you are, and always will be, the filthy son of a cobbler."

Five years on, Enver had lost count of his endless meetings with Thamior Liardon and the sheer amounts of "No's" he had thrown in his face.

It was a tiresome game, but he continued to play it, even if he knew the Duke would never willingly turn the "No" into a "Yes" . Enver was no stranger to playing the long game, so long as he knew he would win with absolute certainty and any risk could be mitigated or forfeited altogether. Elodie Liardon was one such prize, and while he had yet to win her, he knew it was only a matter of time until she would be entirely, unequivocally his. If only because it had been decreed by powers beyond their comprehension.

She belonged to him. Years of enduring dates and dances at grand soirées and festivals had at least ensured that the people of the Gate knew better than to try and lay claim to what he owned - because he did own her. As the years went on, the admirers dwindled in numbers until they ceased altogether, and nobody but him was left to dance with her and parade her around the Gate. Enver was well aware that her father was furious, but there was little he could do because while men enjoyed a challenge, people knew better than to challenge Enver Gortash.

The last man who tried had ended as a sacrifice in the Temple of Bhaal. At least Enver thought he did - his now former Bhaalspawn associate had only left a finger behind.

Enver's grip around his cup tightened visibly before lifting it and finishing it in one go. It wasn't exactly a show of decorum, much less at yet another soiree of Duke Portyr, but with how close he was getting to finally fulfilling his destiny and how intoxicated the patriars around him were, he doubted they even noticed his anger. The men and women of the Gate were scarcely astute without alcohol lingering in their veins, and their ceaseless inebriation rendered them even more foolish than Enver had ever thought possible. Between their haughtiness and perpetual idiocy, it was a miracle if they ever noticed anything beyond their visages and grand estates until their self-immolation came to haunt them with crises so grand a hero would have to come along to fix it all. Soon enough, the monstrous armies of The Absolute would threaten their livelihoods, and his Steel Watch would miraculously save them all. Soon enough, Enver would be the very first Archduke of Baldur's Gate, signifying the beginning of his destined draconian rule. Soon enough, Thamior Liardon would have no choice but to give Enver his blessing, whether by choice or psionic compulsion, and everything Enver had tirelessly worked for would finally be his.

Of course, there was a trifling matter of ridding himself of an invulnerable General and an incestuous half-breed Bhaalspawn, the latter of which was an unforeseen challenge he had not come to expect. It angered him far more than it should have; Orin was like a petulant child, desperately grappling for Bhaal's favour yet understanding little of what was asked of her. And while she was an efficient killer by all accounts, her sheer presence was underwhelming and not nearly as imposing as Bhaal's creation had been. To him, she was nothing more than a mad dog, much unlike her 'brother', who was lethally intelligent beyond his slaughtering legacy. Orin would be an easier kill - Enver should have been thankful. And yet his body was filled with near-manic rage as the rancorous void where his heart should be tightened in his chest. All because the Bhaalspawn had failed.

Just when success seemed certain, Enver was forced to restructure years of plans he had made. Plans which had only worked because of the Bhaalspawn. He was no fool to believe he could have stolen the damned crown from Mephistopheles himself, let alone subdued the brain, if it hadn't been for the Bhaalspawn. Where Bhaal's progeny seemed invincible, Orin was a treacherous and epicene replacement, hardly worthy of being Bhaal's Chosen or Enver's co-conspirator, often falling into a feral sort of rage. It would please Enver to see her suffer - to watch as she died painfully and screaming at his hand, even if such tasks were usually beneath his station. But the thought of yet another taking her place and putting him at a disadvantage for a third time reigned his range in. While he was endlessly furious over the Bhaalspawn's failure, he himself could not afford to fail. Unfortunately, he would need to make an alliance with Orin work. Temporarily, at least —

"You seem unusually pensive tonight," the sweet cadence of Elodie's voice pulled him from his inertia.

Enver turned around, staring into the inquisitive eyes of his destined wife. She had grown much in five years - her silvery hair was longer than it had been at nineteen, and her features had sharpened into an uncanny elegance that made her look more ethereal than Enver had ever anticipated. She had always been beautiful, but maturity suited her well. She looked drained, a little perspiration above her brow. Had she been there all night?

"Good evening, Elodie," he cleared his throat. "I wasn't aware you were attending this... soiree."

She tilted her head in question, a hint of disbelief gracing her features as her brow furrowed and she stepped closer. "Are you alright?" There was no warmth behind the question, but she did seem to be curious. "I'm sure my mother mentioned me attending after you came over for a stroll last tenday. It's unlike you to forget."

"Careful, Elodie," Enver chuckled darkly, "One might start to believe you want me to seek you out." He did, of course. Her submission was the sweetest victory, but Enver would never tell her that.

"Perhaps I do," she shrugged before pushing past him and reaching for a cup of wine herself. "I have no desire to marry you. But I do enjoy talking to you. Your mind appeals to me, Gortash. It resembles my own, except you happen to be insane."

"You think I'm insane?" Enver's voice miraculously betrayed none of his ire.

"Perhaps," she grinned mischievously, her distinctive feral glint sparkling in her eyes before her expression turned sombre again as she regarded him inquisitively. "Still. You seem distracted tonight."

Enver waved her off. It was unsettling how well she had always been able to read him. "Simply some unfortunate... setbacks in one of my promising endeavours."

"Oh?" She took a sip of her wine. "Care to tell me more?"

"What is it to you?" Enver raised his brow in suspicion. He could recount the occasions when she explicitly asked him about his endeavours on one hand. Usually, she would simply argue with him - not that he minded.

She shrugged her shoulders, a teasing lilt to her voice now. "I'm bored and my father won't leave until he's spoken to every noble attending. Entertain me."

Enver's grip on his chalice tightened once more, frustration and ire filling his being as he contemplated her demands. It was not in his nature to entertain people, much less give into the demands of anyone but his Lord. If she were his wife, he would have promptly corrected her demanding attitude - perhaps shoving his cock down her throat would have shut her up sufficiently.

"There is not much to tell," he eventually pressed out. "My partner in this endeavour failed and left me to pick up the pieces with his unreliable successor."

"Ah," Elodie let out. "Failed how?"

"He was murdered by his sister," Enver uttered nonchalantly, reaching for a new cup of wine as he heard Elodie gasp, her eyes bulging out of her skull. With how intelligent and worldly she had been, it was easy enough to forget she was likely kept far from the realities of the ecosystem that was murder in the Gate.

"That is terrible," she muttered.

"Terrible for my personal affairs, yes," Enver grumbled. "I'm sure the world isn't going to miss him." He was quite confident of that fact - nobody in their right mind would miss a Bhaalspawn.

Elodie pouted, a pensive look on her face. "Aren't you missing him?"

"No," Enver said. "He's dead. There's no point in mourning him. He was utterly mad, and I didn't care for him beyond our mutual partnership."

"Perhaps you might still... toast to him?" Elodie offered carefully. Enver was sure she meant well, but it was downright absurd to him.

"Toast? To what?"

"Hm..." she mulled it over for a second before lifting her chalice with a small smile. "O gurth, cuil."

"I don't speak elvish," Enver lamented. Five years of frolicking with a half-elven woman, and the only phrase he had picked up was "Tanar'ri", which Elodie had graciously translated after one of her maids uttered the phrase under her breath.

"From death, life," Elodie mused. "It's a common Lathanderian saying. There is a renewal in death - a certain peace. If he really was insane, he's likely found more peace in death than he ever knew when he was alive."

"Peace?” Enver scoffed. “I should hope not."

“Y-you... don’t want him to find peace?”

“No," Enver shook his head, the same manic rage he had felt bubbling beneath the surface once more. "Not for a single second. I hope the fucker is suffering eternally for failing me. May he never find peace."

He then raised his chalice in a toast, downing the wine in a single go as if hoping it would drown his fury and mania, not even seeing the sheer disbelief and incredulity on Elodie's face. He panted as he set his chalice down, the alcohol a welcome warmth as it spread throughout his body, and his grip tightened impossibly, his entire body rigid.

“I’m sure you cared very little for him, if only enough to curse him to eternal torment for the crime of dying by his sisters' barbarity," Elodie mumbled silently before placing her hand on his. Enver could feel his hand loosen, the warmth of her own skin almost scalding on his own as he swallowed a deep breath. Had he really been that cold?

"Take care, Enver." Her hand left his again, her warmth disappearing as quickly as it had come, and he felt a strange hollowness fill his chest as he ached for that same kind and comforting warmth to return to him.

Too late did he notice she had called him by his name for the first time, and before he could question her, Elodie's body had disappeared into the sea of people, and Enver was left a little more hollow than he'd been before.

#bg3 #gortash bg3 #lord enver gortash #enver gortash #tavtash #gortav #gortash x tav #gortash baldurs gate 3 #fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #someone please get enver some therapy I am BEGGING #i cannot fix this man even if i tried #he's clearly not a feminist so idk what to tell ya #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion

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redux-iterum · 21 days ago

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Hi! I found this series a few days ago, and read everything in two days. This is an amazing rewrite! I love the new lore, actual character personalities/relationships, and how you keep giving us emotional gut punches! I love your changes to Tigerclaw! I never thought I would be sad about Tigerclaw’s death, but the way you built Fireheart’s relationship with him was incredible! Also, since you give everyone plant facts, I’ll give one to you: The world's tallest living tree is the coast redwood!

Hello and welcome to you! Thank you for the enthusiasm - I hope you got some sleep in between reading this whole damn thing. The plant fact is very appreciated, as is this ask!

#ask #mywizardfox #is it just me or are there a lot of fox-related usernames that show up in my inbox often #either way welcome aboard!#i speak #kind words #plant facts

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itsyagurlchip · 25 days ago

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hot takes, small details or personal headcanons you have in your au?

you. you are my reasonnnnnnN THANK YOU FOR THIS ASK IT'S GONNA BE ONE OF MY LONGEST ANSWERS. VEEEEEEE THANK YOU <3333 (I'm sorry if none of these headcannons match up with any previous ones i've made, simply imagining them as people makes my brain run on 1000)

(me now) Umm. Seeing this is finished you know you better prepared to sit down and read.

Keep in mind that reader is a child! They will not be the average y/n, she won't try and solve everyone's problems, and they're still learning and growing as a person! (That's what this whole fic is for-)

okokookookkokokokok these aren't all relevant to the Au per say, but this does apply to the plot and some of the lore for the fic.

im sure you saw the post- but I headcanon the skeles to be able to pop out their eyes. and at first it seemed random- but Papyrus has fucking eyes in the game (!?!) and so does sans, so why tf not?

Now a thing that I do not headcannon is their bones being able to pop out. I don't have any reason, I just don't like the idea of their limbs being Legos (but fsr eyes r ok?)

They do have amazing dance moves tho (Sans gets a lil zesty when he does the worm).

Everything in this universe is like a sitcom, and while predictable things happen, it's not in the usual way it would.

Ebbot is in New York. (you know why, and if you don't be prepared for a particular chapter.)

In this universe, pollution doesn't exist as much as it does in the real world. Give these guys a chance to see those beautiful ass stars.

Dynamics I'd Like to Explore:

Horror and reader.

I would love to explore that "Mama bear" dynamic that Horror could have without dumbing him down to just "hungry" "traumatized" and "comfort".

I want to show how being in a starvation crisis still affects him, while also wanting someone to take care of.

I think reader would appreciate a person who always makes sure that they eat, because they didn't have that as often in the program they were previously in.

I also really really really want to make Horror very disturbing and unapproachable, so it would make him and reader need their characters to develop for their relationship to actually bloom.

I also wanna see him do odd things, like grinding his teeth to a piercing shriek, or putting things in his skull to remember for later, and reader's reactions and approaches to them.

Sans/Papyrus and reader

Ah yes, they will be a joy to write.

Sans and reader's relationship will come from a place of mutual respect almost? While also blatantly disrespecting each other at the same time???

They dont really do much together, other than chill.

And in the small moments that they actually do things together, they don't actually talk much (in a serious way) at all.

Papyrus and reader start it off rocky a bit, because of the surface level reason for why she was adopted.

Papyrus tries to engage reader in activities that he likes, but every try leads to some kind of avoidance or lack of enthusiasm.

(insert sans threat here)

But after having a deep conversation with each other, they become the bestest of friends!

Payarus hypes up reader every chance he gets, and reader makes so many gifts for him that his ego just can't take it!

I feel like the three of them together would be so wholesome, whether it's Sans reading Papyrus and reader a bedtime story, or if they all go shopping together.

There's never a dull moment with these two!

Swapfell gold Sans and Papyrus

LET THEM BE WINE AUNT BESTIES PLESSSSS

LET THEM TALK SHIT ABOUT THEIR BROTHERS WHILE ABSOLUTELY LOVING THEM TO DEATH.

They always walk in the room stunning, Swapfell Sans won't ever let Paps walk in the room with rags while he's there.

Both of them enjoy those live-laugh-love type decorations at hobby lobby, and always decorate the house up like a doll.

They curse without actually cursing and it's so funny.

"AW CORNUTS!!"

"YOU BITTER HARLOT"

"Outrageously strong-stenched sinner."

"Papyrus I swear to all stars shining if you do not get your scraggly pelvis in this room your femur will cease to exist."

Mostly a crack dynamic, but that's what this fic is for.

Sans and Papyrus

A lot of this is half-personal and half-out-of-spite-in-the-fandom-because-i-hate-the-way-they-are-sometimes-portrayed-in-fanfiction.

Papyrus calls Sans "lazy" in a lighthearted way instead of actually believing as such. He knows that Sans could do many things, but he won't do them because of his mental health.

I like to think that since Papyrus has such great control over his magic, he's very much patient as well when it comes to people.

Especially Sans, because he of all people needs it the most.

Sans loves his brother, but not to a possessive extent. Yes, he will kill anyone and everyone for the coolest guy on Earth, but not without reason.

They take care of each other as much as they can actually.

They also have more complications other than "just keeping secrets". It's actually communication as a whole.

Something that I will not explain because it's a headcannon and not my story yet👍

Red and Sans

I feel like they'd be assholes together. That's all I need.

They probably make card houses out of boredom, but with packs of condiments.

They hate each other at first, but neither of them want to fight so it's passive aggressive comments between the two.

Imagine two Loona's (helluva boss) in one room. One emotionally stumped and the other too laid-back to do anything about it.

Suddenly the hostility goes away and everyone else is confused.

Very nice.

Fresh and Reader

Okay I admit this one is purely crack.

I need them to go to Chuckie Cheese and make fun of two year olds when they lose a game.

I want them to attack Karens in the parking lot with possessed furbies.

I want Fresh to scare reader with an ominous statement about her soul and go back to living life free.

LOOK INTO MY EYES!!!

I want reader to believe he's not real and only a part of the fever dreams she has since the world changed.

I NEED FRESH TO PLAY ALONG BC HE THINKS ITS FUNNY

Dream and Nightmare.

Most of these headcannons are inspired/from Ano (@/signanothername). So if my brain is rotted no it's not.

Their relationship is...complicated.

At first, they sabotage each other for fun and competition.

But next thing you know! They're full blown fighting, throwing jabs at each other physically and verbally.

Most people like to think that the two fight each other because they represent and protect different and opposite emotions.

But they fight because they are mentally teenagers, who are SIBLINGS<

It's very tiring to experience and be apart of, because you never know what the two will do in a room alone.

Coming from experience, when I would want my sibling to feel something that I was trying to get through to them, I would say something that hurts. Like really bad.

Dream and Nightmare remind each other of their past mistakes with aggressive and ingenuine kindness when no one's looking.

While Dream isn't an asshole per say, he just has a hard time keeping himself in check around Nightmare. Other than that he's the kindest soul.

Nightmare is an asshole, but he doesn't make any move to "confront" Dream or make a meaningful conversation with him. He still has regrets and animosities from the past, but won't intentionally heal from that.

^^These all will contribute to main plot and subplot. Nothing will be completely resolved, but each relationship will be expressed with more realistic situations rather than "they feel this way because everyone else says so." (cough cough fandom cough cough)

Every other dynamic like Reader and Gaster, or Star/Bad Sanses will be explored as well- those are just the main ones I'm excited for. Of course, I cant fit them all in (because it'll just be run-on words with no actual plot), but I can try to give everyone a situation where they can interact with each other.

Unfortunately, Swapfell Gold won't be in this story at all- only Horrortale and Underfell and the usual multiverse deities. I may not be able to fit them in one fic, but I can make side content and my own fanart to satisfy myself. (WHY WONT MY BLORBOS FIT IN!!!)

Sans

Sans actually does sleep in my au, probably too much really. He uses it as a means of escape because it's hard for him to come to terms with "no more resets"

Frisk isn't the same anymore, and throughout the story he'll get more and more paranoid.

Sans will trip Gaster any chance that he's given.

I like to headcannon that Sans doesn't have an obsession with ketchup, and it's moreso "gasp! the ketchup guy!" type thing. I also like to believe that the only reason why he can drink so much ketchup like that is because of people's reactions.

Sans is a comedian at heart, so he will do/say most things that people consider outrageous; hence the ketchup thing.

I like to think that he only pursued physics because of his dad, rather than mathematics like he initially wanted to do.

Sans hates slime and the grease it leaves on his phalanges as well as the sound it gives off.

He'd probably bring ketchup popsicles to the function.

Papyrus

Imagine that he can 'port' as well, leaving Gaster the only one who cannot. He just doesn't do it because the "void" makes him uncomfortable.

You could call him the "emotionally intelligent one" despite him not understanding a goddamn thing. He's just good at solving problems with patience.

He can see how someone feels, but he won't use that to read the room and understand what to do and what not to do.

He doesn't understand some social rules, like "comparing yourself to others for competition" and "tips for a cup of coffee"

It's confusing he thinks. Which can also lead him to misreading someone's emotions.

If you open up his closet there's a trick wall in it. And behind it, there's a dart board with Gaster's face on it. He's still mad at him, but won't let it show as to keep the family as peaceful as possible.

Sometimes when he's out with Sans, Papyrus would grab him and hold him under his arm and just carry him like that.

He is actually a pretty decent cook. And Sans doesn't lie to him about that.

Gaster

He actually falls when Sans trips him. It's funny as hell.

Since we don't know much about Gaster, this personality is kind of all over the place.

As I've stated before, he is morally ambiguous, and is comfortable with justifying things that seem wrong to most people.

Like cutting holes in his hands to get children instead of getting a wife.

On the other hand, he finds most arguments that humans have tedious, annoying, and easily solvable.

Or testing on a subject's soul who's figured out how to reset time itself instead of asking various questions.

He probably takes the top off of muffins and puts them back in just to spite Sans.

He loves his sons, but doesn't have a way to show them without making them feel awkward.

Despite him being open minded on human affairs, he can be very closed-minded when it comes to new things like routine, emotional intelligence, and boundaries.

Reader

Reader believes that the only reason why she was adopted is because Sans wasn't okay. Like she was supposed to "fix" him in some way, and kind of resents Papyrus because of that.

She's just a kid! How are they gonna help a stinky blob of depression?

Otherwise, it's probably the best they've ever lived.

When there's chaos, reader will remind Sans how "good" they're being and expect a reward when it's over.

She stims by rubbing her knuckles vertically across the joint of her arm (like me, tehe), and picks at her hangnails when she's under stress (also like me).

Granted, she doesn't remember memories from when her parents were alive, but right now she feels like she's in a place where she belongs. Like people actually want them.

Reader grew up in a place where they were older than everyone else, so they were immediately dubbed "older sibling".

Despite the wholesome sentiment, the way those kids would treat her would be toxic, but a small part of her still misses them.

Cannot match clothes to save her life (she walks out the door looking horrendous AFTER Papyrus gave her an outfit-)

She's fine with it though, "No aesthetic can fit me anyway."

Okay I'm done y'all, sorry for putting you through that torture.

I don't think you guys understand how long I want this fanfiction to be. Like bro IM PLANNING CHAPTERS NOW. I know I was trashing on the "fandom", but do know that whatever opinion you have is fine with me. I just have different ones and I prefer to express that through writing rather than arguing/causing mess.

And reminder: THESE.ARE.HEADCANNONS. If you agree, that's fine, if you don't that's also fine. But please do not come to my comments with your fists up. I'd rather discuss more headcannons for variety/diversity rather than claiming that a character can only be represented in one way. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk :))

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @thealphagirl

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@ziipzeepzop-eez @wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi @acesgarden

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

#yagurlchip❤️#yagurl writes #undertale au #undertake #utmv #sans #papyrus #swapfell gold #horrortale #Underfell #gaster #I wanna list the characters mentioned in this but that would probably be too many tags #x reader #<<<completely platonic/familial my writing does not suggest otherwise

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