#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

[eka-paige]

Finally watching the end of s7 ... Zym speaking was one of those things I was happy with never happening but ok sure

[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

[eka-paige]

Finally watching the end of s7 ... Zym speaking was one of those things I was happy with never happening but ok sure

[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!

[meangreennunseen]

I just realised that for some reason all Daemon Princes have wings.

Fulgrim? Winged.

Angron? Winged.

Magnus? Winged.

Mortarion? For some reason too, winged.

Does... Does wings come with 'Sell your soul to Chaos' package deal? Or it's 'First 4 get exclusive pair of wings' special preorder bonus? Are Chaos Gods with EA? Why these four suddenly became eldricht horror pixies?