#prince Ea

[carolkeiter]

Prince Ea | Change Your Life | Choices You Make

A new lovely rap message from Prince Ea “Start Changing Your Life 2024” regarding empowering people to see that it’s the choices they make that will allow them to aspire to make the most of their life.  …step out of your comfort zone ~ change your life through the choices you make… Courage to Order Off the Menue Escape Your Comfort Zone This had rolled into my inbox today on the spring…

[belleandre-belle]

Stop trying to be perfect - Prince Ea

[happytwerk]

my respect for this man is out of this world

[zcarbonart]

his royal highness the crown prince of xianle & crimson rain sought flower are my new favorite couple <333

[virsancte]

me in the studio writing 50 pages of lore for the ts4 vampires over the course of a day

[revasserium]

the good earth

chevalier; 1,282 words, fluff and the barest hint of angst; chevalier agrees to have a picnic, gn!reader

you ask him out for a picnic, and he agrees before he can stop himself. later, he’d wonder what possessed him to entertain such foolishness, such misanthropic meanderings of the mind but then — then you smile, and he puts aside the seventeen things he’s had on his mind and reaches out to help you carry the four bottles of champagne.

by the time you all settle in the rose gardens, clavis is grinning like the devil and chevalier teeters briefly on whether or not to kick him in the shins.

he decides on not as you go about laying out the freshly baked breads and the soft, melting cheeses. there’s jam from the orchards and cakes from the kitchens. chevalier cocks his head as he watches you spread a liberal dollop of creme fraiche on a piece of bread and offer it to him.

“it’s good! i promise.”

chevalier quirks a single eyebrow, smirks, and takes it from you. the cream is sweet and light and tangy, the bread the perfect amount of warm and chewy. he wonders if the kitchens have always been this good, and then he wonders if it’s just the effect of you.

and later, much, much later — when they’ve all had their fair shares of creme and bread and fruits and jam, when the sun is hanging sweet and low as summer berries, the sky painted in languid, lazy brushstrokes of pinks and golds and blistering silver clouds, he finds himself watching you. like he always has.

“you’re staring,” you say, your eyes slipping towards him to catch his gaze, to hold it for a second before it flickers back up towards the darkening sky. up, far, far above you are the first burgeoning sighs of twinkling stars.

“yes,” he says, unabashed in his intensity, “so i am.”

he watches as your cheeks darken, watches as your eyes slowly slide back to meet his again. and this time, he doesn’t let you go. all around you, the other princes are slowly making their exits, their excuses muttered on smirking lips, first luke, then nokto, and finally even clavis, who’d been watching you both with a sharp, rapier-like amusement bows his head and heads back in. you try your best not to blush and you’re unsure if you manage it.

“there’s still a glass of champagne left.”

chevalier’s voice is pointed as always. you turn to look down at the half-filled flute sitting by your hand.

“so there is.”

“come.”

chevalier stands up with a woosh of ghost-white robes and offers you a hand. you regard it for a split second before taking it and letting him help you to your feet.

“leave the mess, we’ll come back to for it later,” he says, as if reading your mind.

you press your lips together but before you can make to follow him, he turns around, his eyes fixed on you as he says —

“bring the champagne.”

you blink. and then, you reach down for the glass.

you follow him to the memorial grounds, the huge marble monoliths carved with the names of all the knights and soldiers who had given their lives for the greater good. chevalier pauses before each with a solemn silence. you follow behind him, unable to stem your curiosity as you watch him.

“graves are for the living,” chevalier finally says as you come to a pause beside him, looking over the vast sunken green field of the memorial grounds, “they’re for us to mourn the dead. those who have passed have no use for them.”

you nod.

“yes… i know.”

“but it’s because of that… that they’re made all the more important,” he says, turning to face you again. there’s the shadow of a smile flickering across his lips.

“go on then, pour the champagne.”

you blink at him before turning back to the memorial grounds and slowly emptying the glass of champagne into the grass at your feet, pouring it out in a steady, horizonal line. a toast to the dead, made for the living.

how fitting.

later, after the remnants of the picnic have all been cleared away, after the glasses have been washed and the fruit pits disposed of. you find yourself watching him as he reads, leaning against the wall of your room, the balcony open against the tepid summer air.

“you’ve never done that before,” you say, without preamble. because chevalier has never needed you to explain to understand.

“hm.”

you bite back a grin, “what’s made you so sentimental?”

the book in chevalier’s hands snap shut.

“don’t asks questions you already know the answers to.”

you fight back the urge to roll your eyes as he pins you with a glare.

“alright, alright — but… it really isn’t like you… even after all…” you motion vaguely at the space between you and him with a faint blush, “all… this.”

at this, chevalier smirks, cocking his head, and you feel your stomach twist into ever tighter knots inside you.

“i suppose it’s because… someone somewhere once taught me that the only difference between a graveyard and a garden is what you choose to put in the ground,” he says, his head still cocked, his eyes cool even as you go ever and ever hotter beneath his penetrating gaze.

you can’t help but blush at his pointed words, but your body is awash with tingles as you finally parse out the depths of his admission.

you’d taught him something.

“o-oh! i — uhm… that’s… well,” you cast about for something to say, something other than oh and uhm. finally, you settle on, “sounds smart, whoever taught you that.”

chevalier’s smirk grows as he pushes off the large loveseat and closes in on the edge of your bed, towering over your as he looks down at you over his aquiline nose and sculpted lips.

“yes. they were.”

he leans down, and you feel your breath hitch in your chest as he presses you back into the soft, downy sheets of your bed.

“s-so… have you thought about… planting some more flowers in the memorial field, then?” you ask, averting your eyes as he crawls onto the bed, his weight shifting the bed beneath you, your traitorous heart thumping up against your chest in ever and ever faster rhythms.

“i have,” chevalier muses, his voice light and unaffected, “i’ve already given the order for it to be done.”

“oh…” is all you have in response, though it seems to please him all the same. you take a deep, steadying breath before forcing yourself to turn back and meet his piercing, star-fire gaze.

“so next time,” he says, pulling back suddenly, smoothing his hands over the material of his clothes as he makes his way back over to the loveseat to resume his book, “we might have a picnic there instead. once the flowers start blooming.”

“a picnic… in the memorial field,” you echo.

he nods, flipping open his book again.

a picnic with the dead… for the living.

you allow yourself a secret smile as you nod, thinking back to that last glass of champagne.

because yes — the only difference between a graveyard and a garden might be what you choose to put in the ground. but says who that life cannot thrive in a place for the dying? after all — graveyards are for the living, aren’t they? and champagne and flowers too.

“yes… i’d like that,” you say, nodding, smiling, bright as bright can be, “i’d like that very much indeed.”

requests are open

[masoncarr2244]

[lacnunga]

If you've ever felt like you're not good enough to apply for a job, I would like you to read up on 'Sir' Gregor McGregor and you will be dsiabused of that notion Real Quick

[bronzebtch]

❝  hello,   ❞ she's munching on grapes when she sees her. though rhea doesn't actively smile, there is a softness to her looks when she offers what's left upon her gloved hand — ❝  would you like to share, little lady ?   ❞

@wcrriorhearts / unhinged starter call.

[thedragonagelesbian]

im gonna invent time travel just so i can go back in time, grab my younger self by the shoulders, and shout YOU’RE WRONG MARK OF THE ASSASSIN IS NOT THE SEBASTIAN DLC LIKE YOU THINK IT IS AND IF YOU BUY MARK OF THE ASSASSIN NOW INSTEAD OF THE EXILED PRINCE, IN FIVE YEARS TIME YOUR ONLY OPTION TO GET SEBASTIAN WILL BE TO BUY THE DRAGON AGE 2 UNLIMITED EDITION WHICH LIKE ISNT A MASSIVE PURCHASE BUT STILL FEELS LIKE A RIDICULOUS AMOUNT OF MONEY TO SPEND ON WHAT IS, EFFECTIVELY, ONE EXTRA GUY

[eurodynamic]

HADES (2020) ZAGREUS, Prince of the Underworld

HADES II (2024 - EA) MELINOË, Princess of the Underworld

[03163757629]

Dear Future Generations: Sorry (2023)

[memoiandy]

Omg, this shit again? Of course these assholes have to make it sound like we poor girls don't have the intellectual capacity to recognize that a character we like / are attracted to is a dick, has some toxic traits and would be insufferable in real life. But of course boys are allowed to like fictional dickheads because they are cool. Many, many Bruce Willis' characters come to mind.

Well, guess what, Astarion is a 200+ years old vampire elf from a fictional land who's been through stuff no real person can realistically go through. We... kinda know he's not real, Bobby.

Rant ahead:

I am so tired of men treating women like this when it comes to them being attracted to a FICTIONAL man. And, of course, just like in the old days, they resort to using derogatory terms like "psychosis of the average woman" (do they even know what psychosis means lol), which is just the updated version of "female hysteria" that was so commonly thrown around as a legit medical diagnosis.

You don't have to like the character. You can call him wtv the fuck you want. Astarion isn't real. But the women in these spaces are. Even if you disagree with their perspective, don't be that dude who is so blatantly misogynistic.

Also, of course we are once again dealing with those who keep mixing fiction with real life and "women just love Astarion and in real life they like men like him too" as if we are all the same and too "dumb" to see through an obvious facade.

The whole "You are being emotionally manipulated by a fictional character"??? Do you guys even hear yourselves??? Astarion was written by real people. He was brought to life by a trauma survivor, so you are basically implying that those who were involved in creating him are manipulating women in real life.... like gtfo.... seriously.

THIS IS FICTION! A GAME!

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 2

Part 1, Part 3

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Kissing, Angst, Asexual Angst, Allusions to Past Relationships

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: OMG, thank you to everyone who has read the first part. I was not expecting for it to blow up like it did. Hopefully this next part doesn't disappoint. And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!! (Especially those I've tagged. I'd really like to know if you still like it.)

Word Count: 3.0K

How could ten feet of hallway feel like a death march?  It was a question you never thought to pose to yourself, until you faced the distance between your door and Astarion’s. 

What could you even say to him? An apology was always a good start, but for what? Neither of you made any formal declarations of intentions towards each other. That was the whole point of this game of yours, to keep the other guessing. It wasn’t like you outright lied to him or made promises you didn’t intend to keep. 

So why did you feel so guilty? 

Of course, you could be working yourself up over nothing. He could just as easily laugh in your face. 

With all these thoughts swirling in your mind, you were almost surprised to see the light beneath his door reflecting on your boots.

A lump of panic tightened your throat. From the angle of the light, he wouldn’t be able to tell you were standing there. There was still time to turn around, put it off until morning–.

“The door is open, darling.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his voice. He didn’t sound upset or angry. Hell, he didn’t even sound smug. It was that rare gentleness he only took on when nobody else was looking. There were times it seemed to surprise even him. You didn’t stand a chance. 

With a breath, you opened the door. 

Warm candle light met your eyes, illuminating the room with a soft orange glow. The room itself was nothing special. Similar to yours it really only held the bed, desk and chair. The only noticeable difference was the widow facing due east, its curtains open allowing a view of the rain pittering against the window. 

Astarion had insisted on this room. You understood why now. He always wanted to start the day facing the rising sun. 

For a brief moment, you allowed the stillness of the moment to calm you, before turning your gaze to the man himself. 

Oh thank the Gods, he was still dressed. 

Astarion sat on the edge of the bed, in his most comfortable white ruffled shirt and black pants. Despite his casual appearance he still came off as nothing short of a prince awaiting his court. His lips were posed in a knowing smile as he regarded you, tilting his head to the side. The light of the candles caught his scarlet eyes, making them burn.

“Are you going to keep that open all night?” he asked. 

Blinking, you turned to see your hand was still on the door handle. A little too quickly, you shut it behind you. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, not knowing what else to say. 

“It’s quite alright,” he said, his tone only mildly teasing. 

You stood there awkwardly, not really knowing where to put your hands. How in the hells were you meant to start a conversation after everything he saw? You were a bard for Gods’ sake. Talking was supposed to be something you were good at. Still the silence lingered, becoming worse with every second. 

Astarion raised an eyebrow. “What are you still doing way over there?”

You shrugged, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise up your neck. “Is there somewhere else you want me?”

He gave you a playful smirk, offering his hand. “Come on. I’d promise not to bite, but…” He trailed off, widening his smile enough for his fangs to show. 

Of all things, it was that small flash of teeth which put you at ease. He was poking fun at you. Surely that was a good sign. 

Slowly, you walked toward him, taking his outstretched hand. He was cool to the touch. His fingers a mixture of manicured softness and well fought calluses, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. You centered in on sensation letting it the ground you back into the here and now. 

He guided you to sit next to him, never letting his touch slip from yours. 

“That was…quite a performance,” he said. 

You gave a half hearted smile. It was as good a place to start as any, but you couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on the way his hand intertwined with yours. It should have frightened you or at the very least made you suspicious, but it felt too good. You didn’t want to break the spell. 

“I wasn’t expecting it,” you said, honestly. 

He gave a hum of agreement. “I don’t think any of us were.”

His hand trailed further up your arm, allowing his thumb to brush against the scars on your wrist. 

A small shiver went through you. The scars on your neck had long since faded after the first night you let him feed on you. You’d made a point to only let him bite your wrist from that point onward. It was meant to hedge expectations. You’d thought a neck bite would make the act more charged than you intended. What a fool you were. Of course he’d find a way to make even the barest touch feel intimate.

“The melody alone…I’ve never heard its equal,” he continued. 

You nodded, unsure what to do with his praise. You couldn’t dismiss it as easily as before. He sounded too sincere. 

“Thank you,” you said, softly, “but I’m not sure how much credit I can take. It felt more like the song was playing me.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me. How else could you explain such radiance?”

You felt now was the time for you to say something clever, but any words that might have formed fell heavy on your tongue as he moved your wrist to his lips, pressing a kiss to the raised marks of your skin. Your heart began to pound. No doubt he could feel every racing beat of it. 

“Are you hungry?” you said, the words blurting out before you could stop them. 

He laughed, the vibrations running down the length of your arm. 

“Certainly,” he purred, turning his gaze to you. “But not for blood. I was hoping you’d let me indulge in some other parts of you.” 

Panic struck you then, turning in your stomach as your eyes widened. “Astarion…”

“Don’t get shy on me now,” he said. He still held your wrist delicately in his hand allowing the other to brush lightly against your cheek. 

Your breath shook and damn you to the hells if you knew exactly the cause. 

“I saw you,” he whispered. “I saw what it is you truly desire. It was beautiful, passionate…starving, and all for me.” He leaned it close, the warmth of his breath dancing against your lips. “Am I wrong?”

Your mouth became dry as sand, forcing you to swallow. “Not entirely.”

“Would it surprise you then, to know I want the same thing?”

The sudden urge to laugh rose within you. Gods was this really happening? “I rather doubt that.”

“Then allow me to show you.” 

Before you could say another word, he closed the small gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. 

It was…nice; really nice, if you were being honest. His hand cupped your cheek, as if it were made of the finest porcelain. There was a care to his touch you hadn’t expected, leaving the door open for you to pull away. The assurance was enough to make you want to stay. 

You’d always liked this part. In truth, you craved physical affection; holding hands, hugging, kissing, they had a way of making you feel so much closer to those you cared for. The trouble always came when people expected more.  

He pressed further into you, teasing your mouth to spark a reaction. 

You needed to pull away. If there was a time for you to stop, this was it. But, it did feel so good. Maybe you could indulge a little longer. It was just kissing. 

Your own hand reached out, lacing your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. 

He hummed in approval, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. 

You let yourself get lost in him. It was easy to forget when he held you so reverently. For a moment you could convince yourself this was all there was. 

A slight shift in his body. His hands grasping you just a little tighter and next thing you knew you were on your back with Astarion hovering over you. 

His low moan poured into your mouth as he slotted himself between your legs and pressed his weight against you. 

Fear spiked within you, forcing the air from your lungs. Shit, this was happening.  

His lips left yours trailing kisses across your cheek to the underside of your jaw. 

“Just relax,” he murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re doing so well for me.” 

His lips met your neck and it was taking everything in your power to breathe normally. 

This wasn’t what you wanted, but it didn’t feel bad. Astarion was being so tender with you. Maybe, if you went through with it, things wouldn’t have to change. You could still flirt and tease. Hell maybe you could convince him to simply hold you now and again. All you’d have to do is let him have something for himself. It was more than a fair trade. Besides, he was experienced in this, certainly more than others you’d been with. You could do this for him. It’s not like you hadn’t done it before. 

His hands moved further down your body, teasing the edge of your shirt. 

The memory of that twisted melody came into your heart filling you with dread. The way you had been so willing to morph yourself into what somebody else wanted for the sake of not being alone. Wasn’t this supposed to be different? 

“Wait, stop,” you said, before you had time to question yourself. 

To your relief, Astarion didn’t hesitate pulling his hands away as if they just caught fire. 

“Are you alright?” he asked. “Did I hurt you?” 

You shook your head, that familiar guilt twisting inside you at his concern. “No. You didn’t do anything, I just…” You swallowed. You weren’t going to cry.  Not now. Gods, you were such an idiot. “Could you…could you move off me? Please.” 

His brow furrowed, but he did not question you as he pulled himself away. 

Cool air rushed over you, pulling a sigh of relief from your lips. For a long time you just laid there, calming the rush of adrenaline pumping through your blood. It was over. It was all over.

With an effort, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position. Out of the corner of your eye Astarion watched you, his expression unreadable. You’d expect nothing less from him.  

“I’m sorry,” you managed. 

“I don’t need an apology,” he said, firmly, “but I would like an explanation.” 

Slowly, as if to keep from frightening an cornered animal, he turned his body to face yours, making a point to keep a respectable distance. He really wasn’t going to make this easier for you. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. 

You shook your head fervently. “No. No, you were perfect. That’s rather the problem.”

His lips turned into a hard line, clearly unsure how to take your statement. His eyes then narrowed, leaning closer to more carefully examine your features. 

“You’re not cursed, are you?” he asked, suddenly. 

The question caught you off guard, forcing a laugh. “What?”

“You know, something something, any man who touches you below the belt is smited. That kind of thing.” 

You shook your head, baffled as to where this conversation was headed. “No.” 

He nodded, in consideration “Alright then, any diseases you neglected to inform me about?”

“No.”

“Hells, don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

“Gods no!” you snapped, feeling your whole body go flush. 

“Then what is it? One second you were there and the next…” he trailed off, before forcing a deep breath. “Look, I’m not angry, but if there is something wrong, I’d prefer to know.” 

“Nothing is wrong,” you insisted. 

“So why the hesitation?” he pressed. “You find me desirable. I’ve made clear I find you desirable. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks and even have a proper mattress for the occasion. The only conclusion I can come to is there’s something you’re not telling me.” 

You opened your mouth only to close it again, wracking your brain on how to start this.

To your shock, Astarion remained silent. It wasn’t the quiet entitled anger you had received in the past or even idle confusion. He looked like he truly wanted to know. 

You let out a long sigh. There was no getting around it now. 

“I do find you desirable,” you said. “The trouble is, physically speaking…I don’t really.”

He raised a doubtful eyebrow. “Is this your way of telling me you don’t think I’m pretty?”

You had to laugh, shaking your head. “Astarion, I promise, you are possibly the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t factor into why I desire you.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“No,” you said plainly. “It never has. Not with anyone.”

He cocked his head, his eyes caught between his natural suspicion and genuine surprise. “Never?”

You shrugged. 

“Above such things are you?” he said, dryly. 

“It’s not as if I’ve taken a vow of chastity,” you snapped. “I’m not trying to achieve some arbitrary moral purity. I just never felt attracted to anyone in that way. I can look at someone and know objectively they’re beautiful or handsome or any number of other descriptors, but that need, that hunger so many people describe, it just never clicked.”

He continued to stare at you blankly before his mouth turned into a hard line. 

“So when I was kissing you, just now. You didn’t feel anything?”

“Not especially,” you said, a little guilty. “Don’t get me wrong, it was pleasant. I do like being close to you. It’s just the things kissing leads to I’m not a fan of.”

You didn’t know what to make of the look that shot across his face. He seemed lost, somewhere far away, before blinking back to the present. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asked. 

“I meant to,” you assured. “I should have. I just…sometimes forget I don’t need a reason to say no.” 

You took a breath, willing yourself to calm. 

“I’ve spent a lot of my life thinking some part of me was broken. That if I waited long enough or tried hard enough, I’d feel the things I’m supposed to feel. I’ve come to terms with the fact I never will. I’m not upset about it. It just means that what I want, what I desire from another person, it’s different than most.” 

He took that in, his red eyes peering deep into yours as if truly looking at you for the first time. 

“So, if it’s not my body you desire, what else could you possibly want?” 

You stared at him as his expression suddenly hardened. His whole body turned on edge as if waiting for you to cast the ending blow. 

“What?” he prompted, sharply. 

You shook your head. “You really don’t understand, do you?”

He gave you an incredulous look. 

Keeping your movements slow and obvious, leaned closer to him. You reached out, moving towards his hand. 

He didn’t pull away, but the guarded expression never faded. 

You took that as a good sign, allowing your hand to rest on top of his as you looked him straight in the eyes. 

“Astarion, when I say I desire you, I mean all of you,” you said, keeping your tone as clear and open so there could be no doubt of the truth of your words. “I want your attentions. I want your adoration. I want your petty jealousies and loud annoyances. I want your teasing. I want your promises and your secrets. I want nights filled with your laughter and mornings in your arms. I want to feel your heart in my chest. I want to know it beats for me. And in return, I want to give you mine. So no, I’m not especially interested in your body. But for the rest? I’m insatiable.”

He only stared at you. You supposed you should take it as a triumph. You’d found an effective way to shut him up at least; declare your overwhelming love for him.

“I know,” you said, softly. “It’s a lot. I’m a lot. But, you don’t have to worry. I don’t expect anything.”

“You don’t?”

You gave a self deprecating smile.“Despite all evidence to the contrary, I’m not an idiot. I know whatever…favor you gave me, it wasn’t real.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly.

You gave him a doubtful look. 

He grimaced. “Alright, maybe some of it was, but–.”

“It’s fine,” you cut off. “I know what game I was playing. I’m just not very good at it.” 

You pulled your hand away, letting your eyes fall from his. Despite the coolness of his touch, somehow your hand felt even colder at the loss of it. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice unnaturally unsure of itself. 

You tried to smile. “Don’t be. I’ll get over it. I always do.”

Something in his eyes flicked in the firelight. His expression turned contemplative as he looked deeply into your eyes. 

“I rather doubt that,” he murmured.

A sharp pain buried its way into your chest at his words, not because they were cruel or came from a place of arrogance, but because they were undeniably true. 

You pushed yourself off the bed, forcing down the well of emotion threatening to burst from your eyes at any moment. 

“I should go,” you said. “Goodnight.” 

You made your way towards the door only to stop at the sound of your name. It was said so gently, like a desperate prayer. 

You didn’t reach for it, not this time.  It already burned too much. 

Without another word, you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you leaving nothing but dark and silence.

Tag List:

@yaimlight, @hallowedandhungry, @bluestuesday, @meggsssart, @murmoruno, @prophetszendo, @cabbit17, @sunset-sunrise-sunshine, @isharaneith, @thisisew, @easy-there-leftovers, @ohhnoimbisexual, @dolceaspidenera, @dork-of-the-universe, @righteous-scamp, @ambrolyer, @our-little-shared-infinity, @baldursgateslittlestar, @pkail, @nanaoise08squad, @becksynthetic, @deliriumcrow, @badgerstorms-art, @taraiel, @writingmysanity

[nectar-cellar]

test driving the new and improved empire eidolon from the fast lane sp...

does anyone use EA or maxis match cars? i feel like we've all been spoiled by real cars converted by fresh-prince.