#unless the child is illegitimate

[chaos-an0n]

the fuckk you mean seeker's a father?

[imfromthemiddlekingdom]

People who don’t understand how feudalism works and tries to shoehorn in our modern sensibilities into said world with very clear world building and set rules in place are the bane of my existence.

In ASOIAF, bastards cannot inherit anything unless legitimized and have no trueborn relatives to inherit their seats. It doesn’t matter if they are “recognized” as trueborn by their parents if other people doubt and have ‘convincing’ proof that they are bastards. And being recognized as trueborn does not equate to being legitimized because in order for someone to be legitimized, they have to first be acknowledged as baseborn to begin with.

The books are more ambiguous since Rhaenys had Baratheon black hair and purple eyes, but even she had the purple eyes of her father. But no matter how people might interpret the Strong boys’ appearance, it was made pretty damn clear that they were bastards. The parallels between Rhaenyra/Harwin and Cersei/Jamie, cannot be made more clear with how both of them are present when their paramours were birthing their child. Harwin was present during the birth of Lucerys and Jamie was present for the birth of Joffrey. It literally cannot be more of a parallel between the three golden Lannister bastards of the Queen and the three brown haired bastards of a Princess.

‘Oh but Laenor claimed them as his own!’ So did Robert. ‘Corlys had no problem with Luke being heir of Driftmark!’ And Tywin upheld that his grandkids were legitimate until he died. Plus even overlooking Corlys’ ambitions, have you gave any thought to how things would pan out if he came out and said that the kings favorite child cuckholded his heir? Viserys wouldn’t stand for any slander against Rhaenyra as proven by the Driftmark incident and his inaction after Vaemond was fed to his daughters dragon and the silent five so what makes you think that he would over look Corlys ‘slandering’ his daughter?

If Corlys came out after Jace’s birth and denounced him and Rhaenyra, not only would his life be forfeit, his house’s legacy would be completely ruined. There’s no doubt that Viserys would commit terrible injustices to protect Rhaenyra, seeing how he was one of the three candidates for the culprit of the Harrenhal fire. He’s ambitious not dumb and going against the favored child of the king and the favorite niece of the person who wields dark sister and rides one of the largest dragons alive would be like volunteering to put your head and all of your loved ones heads on the chopping block.

If he had doubts about the Strong boys’ legitimate cannot do anything about it. Not when Viserys is so protective of Rhaenyra.

Bastards cannot inherit unless legitimized and to be legitimized is to proclaim to the realm that they were born out of wedlock to begin with. The Strong boys have not been legitimized since they were never declared to be illegitimate but anyone with eyes can tell that they aren’t trueborn.

Within the confines of GRRM’s world building, passing illegitimate offsprings as legitimate is a crime punishable by death or a life of servitude to the faith. Within royalty, it’s tantamount to high treason with the only punishment being the death of the adulterer. The only reason Rhaenyra wasn’t penalized by law was because she held the favor of a king. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t penalized by the masses because she was shown to be an oath-breaker. Because that’s what adultery is in ASOIAF, it’s oathbreaking. (Literally the whole reason Catelyn and Ned’s marriage was so fraught with tension in the beginning was because she thought Ned broke his oath.)

Sure in modern day society, if you and your husband consent to an open relationship which results in children and he adopts them, then in the eyes of the law the child is his legitimately and he is their father. But once again, in a feudal setting, adoption, especially as a noble, doesn’t exists.

Blood matters a whole lot in ASOIAF, Robert was not only able to take the throne through right of conquest but also right of blood through his grandmother. Legitimacy was tantamount. You can make the argument that Jace would’ve been fine to inherit the Iron Throne through the blood of his mother that was running through his veins but Luke had no Velaryon blood in his veins bar what’s left of Alyssa Velaryon which was four generations ago. It’s like saying Jon can inherit Runestone since his great-great grandmother was a Royce.

Even if Rhaenyra ascended the throne without opposition. She shot Jace in the foot with her remarriage to Daemon and subsequently producing two trueborn sons. If the dance of dragons didn’t occur between the black and greens, somewhere down the line, some grasping lord unsatisfied with a bastard ruling them would push to get Aegon on the throne no matter the cost.

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

okay! here's the first poseidon 'snippet' . this takes place before and during this scene!

second snippet

there's a masterlist now!

hope you guys enjoy! ദ്ദി(˵ ���̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

*a few months after poseidon had left apollo’s infirmary finally all free of holes all healed up*

*up on olympus*

zeus: *bored outta his godly mind after 20 years of entertainment (especially those last 10 years)*

zeus: *suddenly struck with an idea*

zeus: *to no one in particular* i think i’m going to go pay my brother a visit… just to check on how he is…

zeus: *disappears in a flash of lightning*

hera: *entering the room*

hera: *stares at the scorch marks on the ground where zeus just was*

hera: *to herself* as long as its nothing to do with a woman or illegitimate child… then i don’t care.

*below the sea in poseidon’s palace*

*poseidon enjoying some peace and quiet; when in a flash, zeus on one of his very rare visits, appears in front of him*

zeus: *looking around the room* so… how are things?

poseidon:

poseidon: *sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose*

poseidon: what do you want zeus?

zeus: *ignoring poseidon’s question* where’s your queen?

poseidon: amphitrite is out visiting her sisters…wait never mind that-

poseidon: what do you want?

zeus: *now looking at poseidon* can’t i come see my big brother?

poseidon: you never bother, unless you want something.

poseidon: *anger now in his voice* so out with it.

zeus: *putting his hands up in front of him* whoa! no need to get angry…

zeus: *putting his hands down and a smirk appears* ...remember how that ended for you last time?

zeus: *smirk gets bigger* how you let odysseus beat you like that, i have no idea…

poseidon: *glaring at zeus* do not speak that name in my home

zeus: why my dear brother? are you perhaps… scared?

poseidon: *falling right into zeus provocations*

poseidon: i am NOT scared of that mons- mortal!

poseidon: he merely took advantage of my state after using a lot of my power!

zeus: *under his breath to himself* that power still didn’t kill him though, did it?

zeus: *to poseidon this time* but you’re not in that state now, are you? nor have you been since you left olympus… so what’s holding you back now?

poseidon: *raising an eyebrow at zeus* holding me back from what?

zeus: *knows he has poseidon hook, line and sinker*

zeus: i understand you can no longer hurt him or his family; unless you want to incur the wrath of my daughter… and i suppose even my wife

zeus: but you can make trouble for him still, can’t you?

poseidon:

zeus: *notices the slight hesitation*

zeus: or maybe you are truly fearful of him now? the mighty god of the seas, terrified of a mortal king.

poseidon: *blinks and then goes back to glaring at zeus*

poseidon: i told you i am not sca-

zeus: -then what’s stopping you?

poseidon: NOTH- *coughs* nothing.

poseidon: *crosses his arms and looks away from zeus*

zeus: *laughs knowing he’s done what he came here to do*

zeus: well, i shouldn’t stay too long away from olympus... enjoy the rest of your day brother.

zeus: *disappears in another flash of lightning*

poseidon: *looks at the scorch marks on his floor*

poseidon: he always leaves a mess…

poseidon: *thinking over the conversation again*

poseidon: i’ll show him who’s scared.

*outside the shores of ithaca*

poseidon: *looking the nice clear weather and seeing the merchant ships coming to and from ithaca*

poseidon: it would be a shame if something disrupted this...

poseidon: *smirks* *summons his trident & lifts it to the sky*

*the wind picks up and storm clouds quickly start forming*

poseidon: *can hear distant shouts of mortals reacting to the sudden storm*

poseidon: *laughs to himself* perfect.

poseidon: well, i guess i’ll leave this to brew. i’ll check back later to see what damage has happe-

poseidon: *a full body shiver comes over him out of nowhere*

poseidon: *turns to look at the ithacan docks where he can see..a mortal?*

poseidon: why i am i bothered by that mo-

poseidon: *sees deep red eyes and realises who the mortal is*

poseidon: -oh no.

*the king of ithaca odysseus stands there, glaring into the storm*

odysseus: *in a cold voice* I am going sailing with my son. There will be no issues, is that understood?

poseidon: *even though he knows odysseus can’t hear him* aye aye captain!

poseidon: *with a whimper calls off the storm immediately and quickly dives back under the water*

poseidon: *before he can completely leave, he can hear the voice of odysseus saying “good.”*

poseidon: *about to head straight back home but pauses*

poseidon: *remembers odysseus said he was going sailing with his son*

poseidon: *knows he may be god of the sea, but he can’t always be there to control what the residents of said sea get up too*

poseidon: maybe i should just make sure there’s nothing to make him angrier at me

poseidon: *secretly follows & stays near odysseus’ and telemachus’ ship*

[suckmyfatdee]

The real problem with Rhaenyra having three obvious bastards.

As I said before, if you have a problem with what I wrote, ignore this post or dispute my words on your own blog, just don't mention me or comment on my post. You won't change my mind, especially if you choose to approach expressing your disagreement with my post in ridiculing me. I'm not expecting you to agree(as we all are individuals, so naturally our opinions vary), just saying if your comment is in any way aggressive then you will be blocked and your comment deleted. So don't bother. And sorry for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.

As a person who believes in the inheritance in the Firstborn SON'S claim, therefore supporting Team Green(and no, my views for the ASOIAF universe, A FICTIONAL WORLD, do not correleate with my modern real life views and no I don't agree with Team Green's representatives every action), I don't actually care that Rhaenyra had bastards. That's not my issue. King's have bastards all the time(even tho I belive as King's it's still frowned upon). But the thing is, there is a big difference. Let me explain:

To put it simply, as misogynistic as it is, Rhaenyra is a woman. The difference between a man and a woman is that during their time(Medieval times) and their universe, DNA tests do not exist. You cannot prove wether a man has a bastard or not, if he doesn't personally claim it as his(even if it's likely, like with King Aegon II). He is not the one carrying the child so even if the child comes out looking like him, no one can prove the child is his. But a woman CAN get pregnant, and when the child comes out not looking like her OR her husband, it can and(in their universe) will be assumed that said child is a bastard.

And I do believe that even in the books Rhaenyra's first three sons are bastard, because I belive in the ASOIAF universe, genetics work differently and that you can actually only look like either one of your parents. But that's just my opinion and I don't think it's actually been confirmed by George.

Now, she did not go about this smartly and since im the show, the accusation of her having bastards(SOMETHING THAT WAS ASSUMED BY MANY IN THE BOOKS AND NOT JUST ONE PERSON), was made canon, then let's go by that logic. The main issue, is that she knew her sons were bastards...yet she tried passing them off as legitimate and even let them inherit. That's considered High Treason that not even King's, that had at least mediocre intelligence, did.(unless the child was legitimized, tho even that caused crisis)

"What would you have her do! She had no choice! Laenor was gay and just couldn't do it!"

There are two different ways to have gone about this:

First way:

She had three. THREE. Even if in the books they were legitimate, had she(and with that also Laenor) been smart and seen the risk of her first son with Laenor not looking like either of them, therefore being accused of bastardy, that should've been her sign to not further procreate with Laenor. They already had a son, having only one would have been easier to argue. But three sons that look like neither of them? A bit suspicious in their time and world.

Second way:

If in the books they were illegitimate, and she did have an affair with Harwin, meaning she held little regard for her marriage with Laenor, she could've hired someone(a lowborn to easily dispose of)with similar features to Laenor to impregnate her while keeping her affair with Harwin. She is a royal and she obviously holds little, if any, regard to those below her. She should have had no problem disposing of said man she sleeps with considering her actions in the books AND in the show. That was the smartest and safest way to go about it. Also, if her first bastard came out looking like Harwin, then she should've also just stopped at the first one. As said before, arguing one bastard's legitimacy is easier than three.

Main conclusion, she was dumb and set her sons up for failure. So that's that. There were ways to have gone about this. She just needed the correct strategy for it.

And the main problem was trying to dit a bastard on the throne after her. That's the biggest issue.

[o-cute-blood-o]

KG oc-Antonio Huxley

Antonio is the illegitimate son of the Huxley family, but at least the blood of the Huxley family flows in his body.

He has an extremely cold personality and seems to care about nothing but revenge.

His true age is a mystery, perhaps over 90, but he is still physically and mentally a child of 5 to 6 years old, similar to Felix and Ted.

He was murdered at the age of five and accidentally gained the ability to become immortal (yes, it's weird, tell me if you don't like it)

His mama is dead, murdered

He believed a member of the Huxley family killed his mama

He has a deep hatred for the Huxley family and its members (unless a member of the family is trustworthy) )

I really don't hate any of the Huxley OCs, they are all great! ! ! ! I just wanted to create an OC that was born purely out of hate.🙂🥰

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hear me out-

How would Leona react to darling having/giving birth to Malleus's kid when he thought it was his 🤭

A lil more context:

Darling has been having a 'lil' affair with their fiancée's rival. All their fiancée does is sleep so they grew bored and chose to engage in a friendship with Malleus. The once small conversation turned to casual hangouts and... This...

Malleus of course knew about the child being his from the very begging but Leona only found out after like a year in when the baby began to grow small horns, wings and a tail...

Welp, the darling better have a good explanation 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

(I think he'd know from the very begging by like the scent of Malleus on darling and how the baby would be born with the dragon features right away but like- IGNORE THOSE FACTS FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS PLZ)

Illegitimate Lizard | Yandere Leona x Married Fem Reader

That is if you get the luxury of a live birth at all

More than likely Malleus’ dragon heritage is going to come back to bite you

And you’ll be laying an egg 

Even more alarming the little tike that pops out might just be a fire-breathing baby dragon

What’s worse they don’t even grow fast 

Either way he’s more than likely having the kid shoved in a bag and tossed on the Briar kingdom’s doorstep

You on the other hand are on lock down

And he’s going to guarantee that the next baby you have is most definitely his

He’s not leaving your side

Just to make sure the lizard doesn’t come crawling back

And by the time he does your round and pregnant with your actual husband’skids 

I doubt you’ll be allowed to ever see your child again

Unless Malleus is just as determined to have you 

In which he’s no doubt pulling some arbitrary fae law out to prove he has ownership over your womb

But goodluck if he’s not 

You’ll be left to deal with Leona’s scornful obsession

Never letting you forget 

He doesn’t care if he was sleeping 

You’re his 

And he’s sure you won’t forget when you’re constantly giving birth to his cubs 

Over 

And over again

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Do you ever think more rumors about Harry’s 12 year old child will come to the surface? As years go on since the Las Vegas thing, I’ve been hearing about it more and more. I’m pretty sure if Meghan is aware she wants it to stay buried. I don’t see it really impacting the royals as a whole so why continue to protect him in instances that will only hurt him?

Why continue to protect Harry if the rumors are true? Because it's not Harry they're protecting. It's the mother and the child.

Do I think more rumors will surface? Or even confirmation? I don't know. I think the rumors will continue the way rumors always do. I don't see the rumors being confirmed (again, if true) unless something incredibly drastic or shocking happens.

I do agree that if the rumors are true and Meghan is aware, yes, she probably wants to keep it buried. My theories why: 1) because it's evidence the BRF has "tampered" with the LOS on Harry's behalf before and it makes the spotlight on Archie's and Lili's inclusion that much hotter. 2) it bumps Archie and Lili down another spot on the LOS. 3) it cuts into her, Archie, and Lili's inheritances. 4) the kid would cut into their press coverage, and even more so if they're as much a Harry lookalike as the rumors claim.

(FWIW, there are rumors that Meghan is aware of the child and has even met them.)

Again, these are only just rumors and speculation. Nothing has been confirmed.

Edit: To everyone sending me asks about the LOS and status of illegitimate children, I already addressed that here:

[drama-trauma]

LEVEL 72

Tw:short smut,manipulation,plot twist,minor character deaths,daddy issues,suggestiveness,a little grooming if you squint, consent

You were the illegitimate second heir to a dukedom.Born from an affair whose mentions were swept under the rug by your father — not for your well being but for his status.

What made you stand out the most was your intelligence. Being labelled as a child prodigy and remaining to be a genius while growing up.You were chosen to be a royal advisor to one of the princes,Atticus de Margalline.Being the sixth child, he didn't really have a chance for getting the throne unless through slaughter. But you highly doubted if he could do it, considering the way he follows his other siblings around, in hopes of a single glance from them.

You knew all too well what power could do to a man. Alas, to survive —one must first be willing to die and kill. And you were willing to do whatever it takes to survive.Even if it means to guide a naive prince in a world of darkness and show him just how cruel the world can be.

From the first meet alone, you could tell that the prince did not want the throne one bit. What he wanted was affection and attention from his father and siblings.Yet there was always a longing for something far beyond his reach that shined through in his eyes. For what? you didn't know and you were not interested in finding out either.A wish that would always remain unfulfilled was what it would be.

It was hard to gain his trust at first. He looked at you with eyes filled with naivety yet a kind of suspiciousness at first. After a while of being with you, he had come to terms with your presence. He started to seek you out more. You had seen the smiles that followed after each request fulfilled. But you remained unaware to the cold and calculating gaze he had on you at times.

To ensure both his and your survival, slowly but surely , you had started to spill the poison of envy and greed.His mother will die soon of sickness, his father could care less and his siblings are too busy trying to save themselves, so who cares about him other than you? They would all leave him without a single thought but not you. You will be his guide.He only has to follow your words and you will be with him? You will protect him? You will cherish him? Only you would do that.

You started tempting him with the luxuries the throne has to offer, the way no one will take their eyes off of him and how the people will kneel and follow his every word . And lastly, how you would stand by his side through it all.He gave into your words and massacred his family. They were nothing to him, right? So why are there tears from his eyes as blood falls everywhere?Atticus knew this moment was inevitable yet the grief of a sin committed haunted his mind.

That was the night where you first held him.Taking Atticus to his room and pushing him down on the bed. For the first time in his life, he knew what it meant ,to be comforted by entwined bodies.

He was crowned King and you stood by his side. You got rid of pests that came in both your ways. And that included your family. Years of your planning led to their downfall and you, to your success . The people threw rocks at them while they admired your righteousness.Your greatest desire was being fulfilled right now.

You could see the horror stricken look on your father's mistress. The look of grief , hatred and regret on your siblings. Yet the expression you wanted to see the most was your father's.On his face was a look of acceptance. He knew that his schemes couldn't be concealed forever. Not with a prodigy like you in the house. Right before the execution, for the first and last time in your life, he smiled at you.

Tonight, it was you who wanted comfort. For the first time in years, you cried. That man couldn't spare a glance at you when he was well off but smiles at you as he's about to die!? What in the world was his problem!? Does he hate seeing you happy? Does he hate seeing you alive? Does he hate your very existence?

To Atticus, who only knew comfort by intercourse, that was what you needed tonight. You did or said nothing as he lubricated your hole. He kisses you, one filled with gentleness. He kisses you again, one filled with passion. And he kisses you once more, one filled with hatred.

He enters you gently. You wanted nothing more than to have your mind blown out. For a genius like you, the curve of his dick, it's size or the vein at the top meant nothing more than a tool for pleasure. For a fool like him, the crevices of your hole, it's twitching and the moans you let out were the only good things in his boredom filled life.

As he went rounds after rounds, your brain was turning into mush. Too tired to keep up , you fall into slumber. After spilling his seed inside you one more time, he covers the blanket over you two.

Tonight's events will be kept a secret just like any other of your shared nights. Yet what makes tonight special is the small light emerging from the room, one Atticus states at intensely. And it's source is a screen which says

★★★[MISSION COMPLETED]★★★

[COMPLETED QUESTS: COMFORT AN NPC

EARN THE TRUST OF AN NPC]

[REWARDS: 1500 EXP

5000 COINS

<<FATE'S PENDANT>>]

[ LEVELLED UP ]

[katerinaaqu]

Unfortunately my mind came up with two more questions

1. More historic than classic texts related

Since men didnt marry until their 30s usually, and im very sure they did not tend to be THAT chaste nor was birth control safe or common (im assuming lol), what happened to illegitimate children? I'm guessing theyd stay with their mothers (who more commonly probably wouldnt be free citizens from all i could guess) if they didnt get abandoned (which probably ended deadly or in slavery often enough ig unless they got extremly lucky?) ....idk just a random shower thought x)

2. Actually text related, again Odyssey/Iliad bc the fixation is still fixating:

How do we know when Iliad/Odyssey was supposed to have happened? We roughly when Homer was supposed to have lived

But from what i remember from the one or two lectures I had on ancient history and troy, there are a bunch of inconsistencies of descriptions in homers work (iirc the example being used was a helmet not worn anymore at the time of writing) but they also mentioned that during Homers time they mightve seen the ruins and archeological finds of that time which he/the oral tradition couldve used as inspiration or more like, coming up with a story for these finds?

So what is that assumption of when it'd happened based on?

The descriptions , archeological finds (tho i think with the whole "did they find troy" story, they wouldve based their assumption of having found the city on the already established time frame of how old the city wouldve had to be), other text evidence? Cultural evidence?

DID Homer mix (to him) historic/archeological/cultursl finds AND (to him) current descriptions/customs/etc?

So many thoughts so many questions fjdjksjsdj

Im curious if/what you know about that, thank you again for your time!! ^^

Oh my! Thank you so much! Your questions are fire! Let's get down to it then! ^_^

Well I cannot say that really they DIDN'T get married before their 30s, it is just that this was considered the ideal age for them to marry

That is because in ancient Athens men had plenty of dues to fulfill to the city before settling for a life such as finishing their education or serving the army etc. In one essence it was considered the perfect time for them to be married given how they have finished all their dues towards the city and society but that doesn't necessarily imply they never got married before that age. It was just considered the ideal. Just like nowadays they say the ideal age for someone to have children is till roughly the mid-30s but that doesn't mean people do not have children early or later etc.

Oh that is a very good question. Indeed by n large the illegitimate children didn't have rights on the family's fortune and by n large they stayed with their mothers unless of course one would adopt them and recognize them officially but of course the status of the children differed massively depending on their parentage. For example if the illegitimate child (or Νόθος, Nothos, "bastard") was a product of two Athenean citizens or from an Athenean and a non-citizen (mētroxenoi) then of course the status was expected to differ. And that of course might have played much greater role for the time when the Athenean pure blood propaganda was high enough. One would expect that being illegitimate was a reason for someone to be stigmatized. Mythologically for example Odysseus was often called "Son of Sisyphus" being insulted that not only he was not legitimate son to Laertes but also a product of a man that was sinful and shameful. So even in myth it was a sign used for offending him (see also my random inspiration on Philoctetes where I partially use it) Historically they say that Diogenes the Cynical Philosopher mocked a boy that was born out of a prostitute who threw stones at public by yelling "Hey watch out you might hit your father!"

So being illegitimate was generally seen as a sign of shame for the individual. Most of information we have are from classical Athens for example the law of Solon Whichever woman her father or brother born of the same father or paternal grandfather should betroth on a just basis to be a wife (damar), from this woman the children are to be legitimate (gnēsioi). And we do see a series of laws as to who is considered illegitimate and what responsibilities or rights they bare. Other writers such as Aristpphanes also mention stuff even in their theatrical plays such as A nothos may not have the participation-right-of-close-relatives (anchisteia) if there are legitimate (gnēsioi) children. But if there are no legitimate children, then the estate is to be shared by the nearest kin. So by n large the illegitimate children have no right to the estate apart from those who were officially adopted although there seems to be a generally smaller amount of money called "notheia" that a father can leave to their bastard children if he sees it fit. I believe initially the illegitimate children still could hold some hope for succession but later on that was less and less possible to happen. Need to research more on that though. For example Plutarch mentions how a child that was born from an etaira (aka official concubine) shouldn't be even looking for their father anymore. Demosthenes also agrees Neither male bastard (nothos) nor a female bastard (nothē) may have participationright-of-close relatives (anchisteia) in the sacred and holy rites (hiera kai hosia) from the archonship of Euclid So yeah by n large we see a separation of the illegitimate chilren from their father unless the father seems to wish to adopt them. A classic example in Homer is Teucer and Ajax. Ajax is legitimate but Teucer even if he is older he is illegitimate. Ajax is the leader of the fleet of his city, Teucer's job is to support him instead and we can expect after Ajax's death Teucer was left alone with no kin due to his illegitimate status. The father usually recognized a child upon the tenth day of its birth in an official ceremony (decate) but that didn't automatically give them economical rites of succession, rather than religious ones. With the latter the classical athenean constitution basically considered anyone not owning land or rites of their family not useful for the prosperity of the land and so the bastard children fell often in this category since as it was above they rarely ever inherit their father's estate.

Which I find quite interesting given how many children in mythology are technically illegitiate born by some god or other and succeed. Quite possibly blood indeed runs thicker than water for high class bastard children over common ones I would suppose. Okay that is a very blunt analysis. I would be happy to search further in the future.

2. Yay! Here we go!

Okay the short answer would be; thanks to Schlieman! The dude dug up the city that we now know as Troy in the 19th century. Ever since the city was thoroughly examined by modern day archeologists and based on not only the descriptions in Homer but also the evidence provided from the city itself we do believe that Troy fell probably around 1200 BC. One key point is that we do not see for example in Homer Doriean greek tribes such as Macedonians or northern kingdoms of Epirus etc which are mentioned later as part of the campaigns of the greek heroes to the north such as Neoptlemous establishing the kingdom of Epirus or Odysseus traveling to Thesprotia to repent himself to Poseidon. We know the Doriean Greeks arrived to the area around 1100 BC so the fact that Homer doesn't include them in his narrative was an indicative of the time the war took place. It is also linked to the fights and wars that we believe happened among the greek kingdoms before the fall of Bronze Age kingdoms and the beginning of the "Dark Ages" at the Iron Age which was the time Homer lived in. Th layers of the city that we now know as Troy are very well preserved despite the fact that Schliman did a great deal of damage by digging deep. Archeologists have timed the layers they discovered based on evidence or stylistic details. The city itself named Troy is not just a hypothesis of modern archeology but it seems to be a roman hypothesis too given that we have found tablets from Roman times speaking on the city of Ilium/Troy. Possibly it was already a tourist attraction for the romans at that time given how it was their legendary origin city through Aeneas. Can we say with 100% certainty this is Troy? Perhaps not but we still have very good evidence to support it. Obviously we cannot be sure of the timespan given by Homer to my knowledge but it is safe to assume a war happened at that time in Troy we just establish it was probably a war over the control of the area the coastline and the crops and the passage with the east.

Homer is actually surprisigly accurate in some things (for ecample Meriones giving a boar tusk helmet to Odysseus and the helmet is very well described and fits the mycenaean counterparts) but yes he uses anachronisms a lot for example the mention of iron weapons in his narrative even if Iron was't widedly used at that time or round shields mentioned were more common in Homer's time than mycenaean times. The same goes with other weapons. It is more a case of anachronism rather than a case of inconsistency. We also see burial customs that are more consistent with Homer's time and later times as well rather than Mycenaean times. Or some politica ideals and so on such as the gatherings for voting among the kings or soldiers or the ideal of straightforward battle or being remembered in eternity which were all ideals we know were establishing by Homer's time but we do not know how much of it is true about the mycenaean times. Which makes sense given how Homer was mentioning things he and his audience were familiar with. Another we can see from subjects of shame and modesty such as Penelope covering herself in a veil for modesty. That we do not know if it was a thing in mycenaean times although in Homer's time we can assume it was more common which was done again in classical times where women should by n large be covered in the presence of men.

Yeah probably it was a mix of oral mythical traditions and historical traditions that survived from mouth to mouth given how we unfortunately do not have much written evidence from that time and since myth and history were often tangled together in ancient greek tradition it makes sense how both travel the same way. Homer probably hears the stories and the traditions and indeed mixes in some of the customs or details more familiar in his time and creates his story. Unfortunately given how the mycenaean scripts are scarce and all of them are logistics and not literature or history, is really hard to be 100% certain on their society and history but it does seem to be a very good amalgamation between history, myth and anachronysm. Homer also provides us so much detail on warfare and wounds that it is estimated he was at war possibly at a high position or that he was trained as a doctor among others. Many of the anatomical details he mentions are simply on point which makes it even more interesting as a hypothesis.

Obviously one cannot use Homer as a historical source to learn about the war of Troy but rather they can use it as a reference as to how these wars of the late Bronze Age Greece passed on to the immediate next generations a few hundred years later.

[rouecentric]

I'm just imagining two scenarios -

either dion almost gets the isekai treatment where a gen-Z potential transmigrator gets reincarnated as him after dying but instead, dion has og!dion and transmigrator!dion in their body.

Another is where lanthe has an illegitimate child (b/c he would) and this daughter of his literally looks just like the younger version of lanthe and she grows up right alongside dion and teaches him how to stay sane and akes sure he's mentally stable tips on how to survive. Cue the two of them helping Roxana kill lanthe

YOU AND ME.

dion agrece + transmigrator!gen z!reader got reincarnated as him, but og!dion and reader are in the same body — platonic. / fluff / tw torture , mentions of suicide .

letters from the stars: OMG I misread the ask.. I'm so sorry </3

DION both pities and envies you. He pities you for the fact that you were stuck in such a situation, and envies you for the fact that you got a better childhood than him pre-transmigration.

Although he doesn't show it, DION grows to care for you as time goes on. despite you both being pure subconcious minds, he learns how to be more human because of you, he learns how to feel more.

Although you two were souls stuck in his body, the two of you decided to split duties. DION gets to train, go on his missions and do the monthly test while controlling the body, so you do everything else while DION rests.

If you're younger than DION, he'll eventually see you as his younger sibling, refusing to let you do any "dirty work" that he's meant to do.

If you're older than him, DION respects you, and even sometimes asks your input and opinion on things, as he's been thankfully taught to respect his elders.

DION doesn't really tell you what to do or say, unless you have to talk to Lant, then he'll definitely tell you what to do so you wouldn't get on his bad side.

You and DION usually interact through dreams or in your guys' headspace, but the latter being uncommon.

DION doesn't want to see you how he tortures people and toys, because he, surprisingly, hates the feeling of you being scared or disturbed.

You two are able to feel each others' emotions, so the two of you are like open books to one another, it's impossible hiding something from him.

DION, unsurprisingly, doesn't get your humor, and usually finds himself somewhat concerned about the things you say. He doesn't want you to turn out like him, and the dark humor and pessimistic stuff you say doesn't help with his concerns.

Although he doesn't say it, you somewhat scare and confuse DION with your actions and threats of committing suicide. Please don't actually do it, and why the hell are you fist-fighting a crow?

You and DION get into playful banters often, usually from a weird thought or stupid question you ask him, trying to intentionally piss him off.

[jackfrostvn]

I've already asked a lot of questions, but I can't get enough of Jack 😓🤞. So, I have another one out of genuine curiosity.

What if the MC had a religious belief that prevented her from dating or marrying anyone outside her religion? Would Jack learn about her religion and convert? 😭💗

I know you mentioned in a previous answer that the MC wouldn’t become queen if she got together with Jack. You don’t have to answer this if it contains spoilers, but would that mean their child would be considered illegitimate and not in line to become king or queen?

Also, does Jack want to marry the MC? If so, how long would he wait to marry her? And what would he be like as a husband?

NSFW question (you don’t have to answer this, of course): How would Jack react if the MC cried during intimacy because he was too rough? Is he more of a gentle lover or a rough one?

Thank you for reading again! I also really love your art, by the way. I find the hard work and creativity you put into the game absolutely amazing, and I can’t wait for the full release! 😊

Hey again and absolutely! I’m more than happy to answer.

1. Jack would definitely take the time to learn about the MC’s religion and convert. He would do anything to be with the MC and respect tradition and customs all the same.

2. I mean technically the MC would become royalty- fae systems and courts work differently- but for the most part if they were to have a child, the child would be heir unless jack were to forfeit his own crown.

3. Jack would 100% marry the MC. For faes, the prospect of marriage is not as important just a means to an end, but when you find your soulmate they undergo a ritual in where they link each other’s souls to one another and become each other’s Anam Cara. Jack would 100% do that with the MC. As a husband, Jack would be very caring, protective, and loving to the MC. He would be the same as he is with the MC before marriage but let out much more of his possessive traits. 🫣

4. So in terms of this- Jack naturally is more gentle but would be rough if the MC prefers it. He just wants you to be happy and safe in his arms. Btw he would feel very bad if he made the MC cry for whatever reason. Want to make it up to them most definitely.

Thanks again!

[armoredtitanmistress]

𝙖 𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙡𝙤𝙦𝙪𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙬𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 | ᴛᴏᴊɪ ꜰᴜꜱʜɪɢᴜʀᴏ| forgotten gems (18+ MDNI)

pairings: toji x gojo!reader

summary: your family doesn't understand your value but Toji sure does.

tags/genre: toji x gojo!reader, gojo’s older sister, pre-star plasma vessel arc/star plasma vessel arc, suggestive language (thanks to Toji, of course), explicit language, symbolism (?), misogyny, satoru being a little brat (are we surprised?), strangers to friends to ?, fluff, 2nd person point of view, the first person point of view switches are intentional!, original character (Osamu Zenin).

warnings: 6.3k word count, rated M (18+) for language and sexual scenes, mutual masturbation, vaginal sex, male dom, fem sub, praise kink, degradation kink (barely), boob play, calls her a slut, handjob (fem and male rec.), teasing (this is toji were are talking about), sweet talk, dirty talk, pet names, semi-edging, cowgirl, safe-sex (they used a condom).

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You had let your guard down. Your mother had informed you about a brunch you had with your father and it did psyche you out. Your father never had a one-on-one with you unless it was business-related. Therefore, your thoughts leading up to the brunch pertained to your father with slight glimpses of that night with Toji.  Your mother had chosen your clothes, usually a cause of alarm but you had been so preoccupied that you didn’t question why she had insisted you wear a pale blue kimono with displaced floral arrangements as the design and to wear your hair up in a bun with silver floral blue hairpin. Extravagant wardrobe choice for a brunch.

You were truly blindsided when instead of seeing your father you were met with a smug Osamu Zenin sitting at the table you were directed to with food already there for you. 

“Gojo, you made it this time. I was expecting to be stood up as per the usual routine that we find ourselves in.” He mocked. Even his appearance reeked of pretentiousness. His relatively long hair was being pushed out of his face and into a low ponytail.

He wore a yukata that was similar in color scheme to your outfit, just a darker shade of blue and devoid of any sort of pattern. His frame came nowhere close to Toji’s. He was slender and had a few developed muscles in his biceps at best. Gesturing to the seat in front of him, he says, “Please take a seat. I paid for all this food and it would be a shame to see it go to waste.”

Osamu Zenin was the perfect man for you. 

A sentence that your mother believed wholeheartedly to be true. In comparison to any other son that Naobito had tried to set you up with, your mother voiced her utmost praise for Osamu. She would surmise him as a younger version of your father, down to the haircut and the personality. Truly what any woman wants a potential suitor to be described as. Among the Zenin clan, he fell under the previously inhabited category of Most Attractive. However, his personality didn’t match it. His looks had the female diaspora yearning for him and his personality had them at his beck and call. You called it an epidemic of Stockholm Syndrome.

You surveyed the restaurant out of the slim hope that your father would appear from either the bathroom or the front doors. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found. You scoff at the situation, “If a woman actively avoids seeing you during arranged meetings like this, that should be a clear enough sign that she isn’t interested.”

“Send your mother my gratitude for managing to make this happen.” He took no offense to your words and dared to smirk, “You’d be pleased to know that this meeting holds substance.” 

“How so?” You ask with the same amount of interest that you had from the beginning of the interaction. 

Zenin hold a dominant trait within their family. It appears in each generation and if it skips one then surely the child is illegitimate. That trait is being incessantly annoying until they get what they want. You’ve seen it first hand and historians write about it enough for it to be true. They were bred manipulators with an apathy that matched that of a sociopath. 

The Gojo’s were quiet with their manipulation. It’s hard to tell it even happens until someone is negatively impacted by the repercussions. They also hid their misogyny well.

“Take a seat. I hate looking up at women when it’s unnecessary.” He urged with a load of disdain coming from his mouth. Women were to be at his beck and call. Never the other way around. He had confessed that to you during one of your first meetings. He knew of your reputation and he was confident that he could make the impenetrable Gojo his without much effort. Gojo’s are complicated beings and he had figured that out after 6 years of courting. His favorite play must’ve been Shakespeare’s Taming of the Shrew. Unfortunately for him, yours was As You Like It.

“And I like looking down on men when it is.” You shot back with a pointed look with your arms crossed over one another not before directing it toward the other patrons inside. The entire establishment reeked of affairs and widowers. “Speak up or I’m leaving.”

“You Gojo’s are insufferable.” You heard him mutter under his breath. 

The Gojo’s and the Zenin had a history dating back to the era of feudal Japan. The story goes that during the Edo period, the heads of the clans fought resulting in the death of the Gojo clan head. It was said that they were each in possession of their inherited techniques– a battle of the century. The backstory as to what led to the fight has been misconstrued and in semblance to the Bible has been interpreted further and further from the truth. It was a mystery to you why Naobito wanted to push a marriage between the two families. The malignant history should’ve prevented any sort of arrangement.  Your father was impartial to the arrangements and if he did care, he made little effort to show it. 

“Yet you still chose to pursue me. Seems counterproductive.” You chastise, “The answer will remain the same for as long as I live. I’d pick any of your relatives over you without missing a breath.”

He scoffed and countered, “Now you and I both know that’s not true.” 

He may have been right. The other “suitable candidate” would be Jinichi and let’s just say you liked his brother better.

“Do we? Because I’m failing to see when you and I have seen eye to eye on anything.” Your voice had slightly risen and if there had not been prior threatening conditions, a few heads would’ve been turned. From the outside looking in, you two were in the middle of a lover's quarrel. A demeaning assumption to be lumped into.

“You’ve wasted my time.” You sighed and decided not to linger any longer, “This meeting doesn’t hold any substance and I do not like wasting my time so frivolously. If that’s all you had to say I’ll be leaving.”

Your feet pivoted away from him, walking away as you searched inside your clutch to text your driver that you were ready to be picked up.

Osamu didn’t seem bothered by it. He had anticipated that reaction. He snapped his fingers at your departing figure and called out, “Oh, I wouldn’t leave so soon. This proposal is concerning the Six-Eyes that you treasure so much.”

His words managed to halt your movements but were not enough to commit to turning back. Each snap he’d do was transcribed in your mind as a countdown of you getting closer to getting visibly pissed off.  Having found your phone, you quickly typed out a text to your driver but let your fingers hover over the send button before you questioned his audacity,  “Are you using my brother as a threat? Should I relay to you the reason for my declining all your former marriage proposals?”

“I say that to you not as a threat but as a warning from your clan.” You turn around and see the satisfaction dripping from his tired eyes. You’ve seen that expression before and it wasn’t as antagonizing as his.

“You’re speaking in tongues. Would you like me to cut it off?” You warned but he didn’t back down even if he knew you weren’t one to speak without purpose. 

“Always quick-witted aren’t you?”His boisterous laughter resounded through the restaurant. He turned some heads but they soon disappeared into their conversations. He laughed out your name before explaining, “Do you truthfully believe that your clan is going to allow a woman to lead them? Let alone by herself? It would be blasphemous for you to even be considered in earnest for such an important position.”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t. I at least would know how to get to the point in meetings like this.” You stated before turning your phone off and placing it back into your clutch.

“Your clan has no plan on making your position permanent. You are merely there to become an acting clan leader for Satoru. After he gets to a relatively sentient age, they’ll release you of your title and sell you off to become a housewife.” He informed you as he looked thoroughly pleased that you had finally given him your full attention. He took a bite out of one of the hors d'oeuvres and continued, “How does it feel to be lied to?”

You remained poised but let your words pierce for you.

“Why would you of all people know any of this? I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you at any of the Elder meetings.” You mockingly wondered, searching for an answer in the ceiling. Your eyes find him again and you deadpan, “Oh, wait.”

He scoffed, “I happen to be in the ones you aren’t a part of.”

“Is that so?” Knowing full well that he was spewing bullshit.

“Why would I risk my livelihood for a man.” Then it clicked. He was so insistent on being married off. Particularly to you. A Gojo, nonetheless. It was for the same reason men initiated wars or talked over women. It all came down to power. 

“Ah, that’s what it is, isn’t it? What this whole thing is about? This has never been about Satoru.” You began as you lifted yourself from your seat and gathered your clutch into your hands.

“Where are you going?” He asked. His hands were getting ready to grasp your wrist but were repelled by an invisible force. You glance down at his hand and scoff, “Not enough for you to know how different you are from me.”

“I’ll say this as I look down on you because I know how you adore looking up to me. You’ve been doing it your whole life.” You leaned your body down until you were level with him and zeroed your blue eyes into his eyes, “You loathe the idea that a woman would be in a higher position than you. If I marry you, it’s because I chose to. Not the other way around. Your threats don’t even hold a value because even in that scenario, you're not the one in power.”

But neither did you. Sorry to cut off your monologue but if his power was nonexistent then yours was miniscule.

Families tend to bear the signage of their legacy. A Gojo was thorough and quaint with an honorable benevolent presence. Their eyes and hair are key components to their icy exteriors. Not an inch of warmth to be dispelled from them. They get what they want and whoever harbors the consequences of that is left as residual fragments of their greed.  

That’s why when you walked into your family’s dining room, you had all but smoke coming from your ears when you saw your mother enjoying her midafternoon tea with a fashion magazine in hand. You were a spitting image of her minus your hair and eye color. Her hair was pulled back into a bun and a blue hairpin similar to yours. Her kimono was also blue but was a shade of blue that was nauseating to stare at. Kind of like a person with motion sickness on a boat. She didn’t have to bat an eye to notice the bad energy you had given off when you entered the room.

“Back from brunch so early?” She commented as she licked his finger to turn the page. 

“Would have been there longer if the meeting was worth my time. I ask that you don’t involve me in any of your schemes moving forward.” You tried to remain composed but it was hard when she barely acknowledged your presence. 

“Osamu is a good man. He has a good head on his shoulders and enough tact to understand what it means to rule a clan. He is perfect for this family.” She answered, not breaking her stride in skimming over the magazine pages. 

Your father was the pillar of your family and your mother was the maintenance crew that made sure to preserve that image. Your mother had a mind but that mind was enshrouded with images of your father’s reputation. It must have been an inherited trait to desire to control every and any aspect of life. Her image must be upheld alongside those whom she associates with. 

Of course, you included. It was deceitful to the public that she portrayed herself as a loving mother. You’d tell me that she was the Victorian era’s incarnated embodiment. She loathed you since she laid eyes on you. She had done everything right — met your father, married him, received the power, and bore the clan an heir. During that high, she failed to take into account birthing a daughter. A firstborn daughter, at that. Countless times had she tried to mold you into the perfect woman by attempting to dissuade you from becoming the clan head. Deeming it to be too masculine for a woman. That playing house was biologically instilled within you and that going against it was an act against nature.

Your mother, though married into the family, held the insinuation of being a Gojo best. Her favorite color would have been green if blue didn’t exist. She designated specific blues for the family. Your father was a Royal Blue to commandeer his role in society and accentuate his noble features. His color resembled the waves of The Great Wave off Kanagawa. He carried power in his stride with a color that was made for him.

 Satoru was categorized as a blue which could never be forgotten. You see it once and use it as a reference for describing the perfect hue of blue. It illuminates any kind of room whether it be an office, a library, or a bedroom. It matches each occasion. As a gem, he was a sapphire solitaire. 

Blue is the root of all your problems. From your conception to the present day, blue plagued you because you weren’t a specific hue of blue. Matter of fact, you were the palest blue that painters could find. The kind of blue that was painted in nurseries, the kind that the sky was known for, and the kind that resembles a forget-me-not. As a gem, you belonged in the possession of someone else.

You were cold. No, not because of your appearance but because you decided to wear nothing beneath the baby blue silk pajama set in place of the pair of sweats and the baggy t-shirt you had tucked underneath the floorboard of your closet. You were in your room and you easily could’ve wrapped your blanket around you but didn’t feel like staying in your room. It had as much personality as your public persona. It’s not like you were able to design it. Your mother’s strict aesthetic did not discriminate when it came to your private life. If anything it was meticulously calculated. She wanted it to become a lifestyle rather than a facade. 

You wanted the comfort of a home. This room that has been yours since you were born never grew to become one. The house as a whole was not one either. In hindsight, you should’ve gone to the garden but the chances of running into Toji were too risky. 

Since your night with Toji, you were scared of him. How he made you feel per se. Never in your life had you felt as desired as he made you feel. Sex was coined to be meaningless for people in your age group. Just something that had to be done by a certain cutoff age. From what Yuki had told you, it happens and you move on. So why would you rather let your garden wither than have to face him? 

Intimacy comes with sex, that’s just the nature of it. You knew what you were getting yourself into but the capacity of it left you blindsided. You’ve been praised for your value for so long that you have forgotten that your value was based on your worth besides someone else. Without a name, you were as good as a fine china dining set. You had gone on a whole morality spiel with Satoru about the importance of names and yet you hated when people used your name. That night your name was brought up but instead of it feeling like a weight on your shoulders it was the complete opposite.

A man should never have this sort of hold on you. They never have until him. Not even with guys who looked like him. All the men in the world could disappear in the world and you’d exhale in content but not without the wandering thought of him. 

Nature was a familiar topic for you. Nature and instinct coincide with one another. You adhered to instinct well. That’s why you knew that your relationship with Toji was based on the natural pull of instinct. 

While you were enshrouding yourself to fear, Toji was convinced that you would be the best he ever had and encouraged the thought of seeing you again. He had been going based on late-night fantasies he’s had of you since he was a teenager. How could he not? The desire to want something that is so out of reach yet so agonizingly close? You had manifested into a personalized kink for him. He could freely explain his desires for you ranging from what he wanted to do to putting those desires to practice. He was open in that sense of your relationship. That was the situation until you turned the tide.

You stopped coming to the garden, completely. It could’ve been a coincidence seeing as during that time of year cursed spirits tend to be at an all-time high. However, you aren’t the only sorcerer in the world and you couldn’t possibly be busy enough to neglect your garden. It wasn’t until after the second week of your absence that he clued in that you were avoiding him.

He wasn’t having it. In the same way that he was “having” an overly intoxicated woman grinding her ass on him with no rhythm to save her life. A few weeks ago, she would’ve been the standard- an average girl with big tits and an even bigger ass. He accepted that a lot has changed for him since he met you. He pushed her off and though she scoffed at his rejection she didn’t continue her advances and let him leave. He didn’t even know why he was at this club. He didn’t want to be there. He thought the neon flower light decorations were too tacky compared to what he had grown used to. He didn’t want to see the flowers in the garden, frankly, he didn’t give a fuck about them. He wanted to see you.

You had been in your world when you began to hear taps against your bedroom window. You’d seen clouds earlier that day and had written off the tapping as heavy rain. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest when you noticed a dark shadowy figure tapping incessantly on your bedroom window. Foolish to even confuse the sounds of Toji Zenin as something so peaceful

You pondered for a while if you should even acknowledge him. You could go about your night and pretend he’s not there. You would’ve followed through if your window didn’t sound like it was on the brink of cracking.

You cracked the window open and immediately started questioning him, “What are you doing here? How’d you even know this was my room?”

For once, Toji wasn’t annoyed by your incessant need to ask trivial questions. He would’ve let you continue with your tangent if it hadn’t felt like it was below zero degrees outside.

“I’ll answer all your questions if you just let me inside. It’s fucking cold out here.” He had the decency to ask but didn’t plan on listening to what you had to say after. He tried to push through the small gap you left open but you blocked it with your body. He raised a brow at your actions, amused by your stance, and cocked his head at you to speak. His expression briefly reminded you of the look he had from that night and you prayed he didn’t hear you gulp. It was dark out and the light from the moon couldn’t make out. 

“Ironic. The man with an inhuman body is getting taken down by a little breeze.”

His eyes darted to your breast and he couldn’t help but lick his lips, “Not the only one that’s being affected.”

You furrowed your brows and let your eyes travel to where his eyes had landed and felt yourself heat up. You weren’t wearing a bra. Why would you? Your nipples pierced through your silk pajama shirt enough that you couldn’t even form a rebuttal. You crossed your arms over one another trying to protect your decency. Again, why would you? He had seen far more than an erect nipple from you.

You shook your head and tried to affirm, “You need to leave. You can’t be here.” You planted yourself in front of the opening and tried hard to play off your embarrassment. He took your attempts as nonsensical.

He planted his elbow on the ledge and used his hand to prop his head, he mused, “You’re gonna make me leave after I’ve gone through all this trouble? You're so cruel, sweetheart.” 

He had used that nickname once before. At the time, you assumed it was a slip of the tongue. Even now, you have followed that same mentality. 

You scoffed and puffed your chest out, “Cruel is one of the many things I’ve been called and I take pride in it.” 

His position remained the same, caring little that his body could enter hypothermia if he remained outside. He continued the banter, “So have I. You’re nothing special, sweetheart.”

Surely, not a slip-up anymore.

“That’s a new one.”

“Like it? Think it matches you well.”

“A lot of words have been used to describe me but sweetheart has to be a new one”, You shook your head in protest and subconsciously side-stepped out of the window opening. Enough to give him an opening, one that you had noticed too late. Your back was already pushed into the wall and his hands were cupping your jaw. You opened your mouth to speak but he had his fill of hearing your voice. His lips caged yours in desperation. His desperation could only be described as Odysseus coming back home after decades away from Ithaca. You couldn’t reprimand him either because as much as you had actively avoided him, you missed this feeling. One that you couldn’t pinpoint.

“Good.” He breathed out before diving back to your lips. His lips suctioned onto yours as if he were sucking the seed out of a cherry. His hands that had been stationed on your chin deviated to the back of your neck, pushing your lips further into his. Breathing did have to happen and with one last peck, he spoke, “I would hate for someone to see you like that.” 

“As a decent person?” You tried to joke and keep the situation airy but you missed the feeling of his lips on yours already. This is what you had been afraid of. He is an addiction you can’t quit once you start. He held that over you and he didn’t even know it.

“You think you're decent?” He asked as his lips traveled down from your lips. Kissing against your chin with the same amount of passion as he had down to lips seconds prior.

You softly exhaled, “Don’t think I’m the worst.”

“Sure, you don’t.”

“And you are?”

“Don’t start putting words in my mouth now.” He scoffed as he sucked harshly against your neck. He let that happen multiple times, each more prominent than the last. You let his mouth ruminate on your neck in bliss. The breeze coming from your window knocks you to your senses.

“We have to stop.” Your room was far enough from the rest of your family’s rooms but you didn’t trust your voice if you did continue on the path you guys were heading toward.

“Have to? Or scared to?” He asked with the intent of getting a legible answer. He knew you avoided things when they got too serious. He’s experienced it firsthand. His hands trailing toward the buttons on your shirt and unbuttoning them with expertise. With your boobs on full display, he let your shirt drop off your shoulders and onto the floor while his fingers wasted no time toying with the nipples that had been taunting him since he had seen them.

“Gotta answer? Your body does.” He mocked before letting one of his hands sweep across your stomach until they found solace in the band of your pajama pants. Just like the bra, you weren’t wearing any panties. His fingers fiddled with the band but restrained themselves from delving further.

“Got anything to do with you disappearing on me?” He whispered into your ear with his eyes targeted at your own. You tried to avoid them by focusing elsewhere but looking up or down you’d still be met with him. 

You groaned from the sensation of his hands, “You want to talk about it now?” 

He squeezed particularly harder on your boob and inched his hands further into your pants then cheekily asked, “Why? Is now a bad time?”

This had to be some form of torture. You wouldn’t put it past Toji to leave you like this. He tends to do things his way and right now was a prime example of it. As you said before, Zenin’s are inherent assholes. However, he was currently the asshole that managed to cause a pool to form in between your legs and the only one capable of doing anything about it.

“I was busy.” You answered quickly. It wasn’t a lie but it also wasn’t the whole truth. You could’ve reached out to him or even gone to the garden. The reasoning as to why briefly left you as you pushed your legs against one another was to absolve you of the tension that he had built up. 

You felt his smirk against your ear before whispering, “Nah I don’t think so.” He dipped his head down to kiss the edge of your cheek that led into your ear. His hand on your boob continued its ministrations while the other one let your pants pool at your ankles before continuing its journey into your cunt. He would stop himself whenever he’d hear your breath falter, “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were avoiding me, sweetheart.”

You hummed eagerly, impatiently waiting for his fingers to find your clit. Any conscious reasoning telling you to stop before was shunned by lust. He was satisfied with your admission. He promised himself that he’d edge you the next time he’d get to have you and this reaction was enough for him. His fingers gave you what you wanted and your immediate response was to let out a cry. Your mother was home and unfortunately, her room was the closest to yours. 

You bit your lip to mask the noise but he wouldn’t allow for that. His pace went faster, swirling his finger over the bud and flicking it a few times. He was trying to elicit noise out of you. It was hard to tell before what he was wearing, the moon barely illuminating his figure. He was wearing a black crew neck and sweatpants. Nothing to gawk at. It was his usual clothing but it did give you an idea of your own.

You slid your hand to his bulge and palmed it over his pants. He groaned into your ear, “You're better than that. If you’re gonna do it, you shouldn’t half-ass it, baby.” He let the hand that had been busy on your boob deviate to his waistband pulling his pants along with his boxers down to let out his hardened cock. He grabbed your hand and said, “Spit.”

“W-What?” You stuttered, staring at your hand in awe. 

“Need to wet it before you start to stroke it.”

You were reluctant to do so but did as you were told. He smirked and guided your hand to the base of his cock. You’d never given a handjob before yet you managed to handle his cock with ease. He had to reward you for your hard work and caught your lips before plunging his fingers into your cunt. His groans and your moans fought for dominance as they desperately tried to be heard. 

He was knuckling deep in your pussy while your pace on his cock was faltering. 

“Doing so good for me, sweetheart. You must be wishing my fingers were something else.” He grunted as his pace increased. Your back arched against the wall while your body curled into his. His words held truth but you weren’t going to deny his fingers were doing a good job substituting it. 

Your fingers tried to simulate the same pleasure he had been giving you, trying to remember the porn videos you’d watched when you were younger. You let one of your fingers graze his slit before swirling your finger around the base of the head. 

“Am I doing good?” You panted out between battered breaths.

He sucked on your neck as he praised, “Always s’good f’r me.”

His praise went straight to your core and had you shuddering out an orgasm on his fingers. Though you were wrecked from cumming, you were still adamant about getting Toji to cum. His cock was twitching in your hand and you knew he was getting close. Just when he was close to finishing, he pulled your hand away.

You raised a brow at him and he pecked your lips before quickly replying,  “Wanna cum in you.” 

He tossed his crewneck somewhere amongst the other discarded clothes before lifting you and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“My bed. Now.” That is all you managed to get out of the kiss. He chuckled against your lips before sitting down on your bed and having you straddle him. He tossed his crew neck somewhere amongst the other discarded clothes before cupping your hips in his hands as you leaned in to kiss him. Your hands had tangled themselves in his hair pulling on it as your pussy grinding against his thighs. He halted your movements with his palms, tapping them against your thighs.

“I forgot a condom.”

The Toji Zenin. Forgot a condom. The irony. 

For once, you thanked Yuki for her stupidity. You got off of him, walking toward your closet and searching for the clutch she had let you borrow. Pulling out the box, you tossed them to him before clearing your throat, “Will those work?"

He caught the box and looked at the familiar packaging then smirked up at you, not expecting you to have a stash of condoms but amused that you did. Shaking the box at you, he asks, “Where’d you get these?” 

“A gift from a friend.” You respond as you walk back to him.

“A friend?” He tries to pry, opening the box and pulling out a condom. As far as he’s concerned, he was the only friend you had. 

You narrow your eyes, “Do they fit or not?” 

He chuckles at your insistence but nods, ripping the packaging and putting the condom on with ease. He hooked a hand around your waist, situating it in between his thighs before snaking a hand down to slap your ass catching you off guard. He smirked and challenged, “Still wanna learn how to ride, cowgirl?” 

You flushed at the memory of your first time together. How you managed to be so daring was a mystery to you. It had to be the sex-induced confidence. You’ve heard of a lot of different positions from Yuki. She even gave you a ranking on which positions were best and listed the pros and cons for each one. The downside of this one was stamina and luckily for you and Toji that wasn’t a concern.

You nod your head and you feel his hands on your hips lift you back to the position you were previously in while your hands situated themselves on his shoulders. He kept your hips slightly alleviated from his then used one of his hands to align his cock to your entrance. Not before sliding it along your entrance getting a mewl out of you. 

“Can’t you just put it in?” You irritably asked. Your cunt tried hard to clench on his cock whenever he’d glide it over. 

“Need to give my pretty girl what she wants.” That was his warning before he slammed his cock right into you. Your head lolled to his neck while your nails dug into his shoulders from the impact. A wanton moan followed after the impact and you could only pray no one heard. 

The cocky shit dared to cackle at your reaction. You bit his collarbone but his laugh just became more obnoxious.

He gripped the small of your back, guiding you to bounce up and down on his cock. Compared to your first time, he was handling you in the same manner as he did his hedges, sloppy and rushed. However, just like the hedges he had a method to his madness.

“Just gotta do it like this.” He instructed before whispering in your ear, “Think you can do that, sweetheart?” 

His answer came in the form of another moan and the rolling of your hips into his. You were a fast learner. Such a fast learner that he’d think you’ve done this before. You were going along with what felt right and what would get you closer to the end. With that being said, your awareness about your noise level had been clouded with desire.

“You can’t be so loud. Wouldn’t want your family hearing you be such a slut now would we?” He mocked, rutting his hips into yours at an animalistic pace. He had delayed his orgasm for as long as possible and as he had said he wanted to be in you when he did.

“N-Nooh” Your words and your tone of voice weren’t corresponding to each other. You tried to ignore the way you clenched at the degrading nickname. He wasn’t.

“Oh, you like being called slut?” He growled, harshly slapping your ass causing you to bite down on his collarbone to mask your cries. You tried to match his pace, trying to coordinate with him but it was no use. He was animalistic.

“That’s right. You’re my slut, baby.”

You whimper — something bordering pathetic — but your pride is left on the floor with a whimper being the only noise you could remember. You're nearing your end. He can tell, probably before you can. Your mind is enshrouded in galaxies and nebulas. You wanted it to stay there. You wanted him.

“S’good, baby,” he coaxes, brushing a few sweaty strands of hair from your face. “My pretty girl.” 

You cum hard with his name still on your lips. He caught your moans with his mouth and didn’t relent with his speed trying to catch his end. If he’d continued any longer you would’ve reached your third orgasm of the night. Fortunately, the loud groan he let out in your mouth and the feeling of the condom filling up didn’t let that happen. You wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t feel like your legs were going to be impaired the next day.

He tied the condom off and tossed it in your bedside trash can. He fell into your mattress pulling you on top of him. Your legs tangled and the both of you were communicating in giggles. 

“Can’t believe you forgot a condom.” You teased, laughing into his chest. 

He seemed flustered by the question, an expression you don’t see often from him. He avoided your eyes and lifted a hand to rub his neck before he answered, “I wasn’t planning for things to go this way.”

“What were you planning?”

You felt him shrug.

“Just wanted to see you I guess.”

“Oh.” Is the safest response you could think of. You guys were friends. It was just now with the added benefits. A sting was felt in your chest at the implication but his hands rubbing circles on the small of your back soothed that sensation away.

It was silent for a while. Neither one of you knew what else to say.

His slowed breathing indicated he’d fallen asleep. You felt safe enough to say what you had initially thought. You left a shy kiss on his chest as you mumbled, “I wanted to see you too.” 

Morning came soon and Toji had left just as fast. By the time you’d woken up, he was gone and the window that had been open was firmly shut. All that was left of him was your discarded clothing from the night before, the condom in your trashcan, and a text from him.

Toji:

Sorry.

You rolled your eyes at the text. Why’d he apologize for leaving? You sent a question mark and tossed your phone on your mattress. You threw your pajamas into your hamper before putting on a robe, grabbing a change of clothes, and walked out of your room and toward your bathroom. 

A shriek of your name caused you to turn around. Satoru was standing a few feet away from you with his eyes beyond the words of terror.

“Your neck!”

Curse that Zenin fuck.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: sorry for the three month break! honestly had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. I decided to rewatch the anime and saw some edits on tiktok that sparked my inspiration. the next couple of chapters are going to be heavily reliant on action as to stay relevant to the anime. Also, I have a playlist that I use when I'm writing for this fic. Here's the link!

references:

Taming of the Shrew: Lucentio loves Bianca but cannot court her until her shrewish older sister Katherina marries. The eccentric Petruccio marries the reluctant Katherina and uses a number of tactics to render her an obedient wife. Lucentio marries Bianca and, in a contest at the end, Katherina proves to be the most obedient wife.

As You Like It: Rosalind and her cousin escape into the forest and find Orlando, Rosalind's love. Disguised as a boy shepherd, Rosalind has Orlando woo her under the guise of "curing" him of his love for Rosalind. Rosalind reveals she is a girl and marries Orlando during a group wedding at the end of the play.

The Great Wave off Kanegawa: famous japanese painting.

tag list:

@cococola-cocaine @justtnat @softvgold @missroro

comment to let me know if you want to join the tag list for future updates!

make sure to reblog, like, and comment! they really help me know what you guys like and don't like!

[pterodactylterrace]

Unapologetically Team Green Take:

Alicent

Ok, I’m going to call it now. They decided Maelor being Aegon and Helaena’s child was green propaganda. In F&B Helaena couldn’t even care for herself, let alone her remaining children.

Aegon allegedly gives Maelor to his mother to raise as her own. No mention of the surviving twin being given the same treatment. They will likely decide to give Alicent at least one bastard just to drive home the feeling of “see? Evil hypocrite!” Even though Alicent is a widow and not putting her illegitimate son in the succession.

It was rumored that Daeron would be an Alicole bastard, but then how in the fuck did he hatch his dragon? I’m getting the vibe that Tessarion was hatched to Daeron, which wouldn’t be possible unless Viserys was his father. I can already hear Condal now “everyone kind of forgot that only Targaryens can hatch a dragon egg” “it’s green propaganda that only Targaryens can claim dragons”

Just waiting for all the “Alicent is a hypocrite and a slut!” Hate to start rolling in. The only issue is that her paramour is a member of the kingsguard. And he is willingly breaking his vow. A vow Aegon doesn’t seem to even really care about that much. It sounded more like a suggestion when he told his kingsguard pal that he was supposed to be celibate. Plus, isn’t the vow that they would father no children, not that they wouldn’t get their freak on? I mean, maybe it’s splitting hairs, but the point of the vow is that they won’t have anyone or anything else they would put before their duty. Isn’t it kind of null and void if the resulting child would be a member of the royal family? Not to mention, Alicent took Ye Olde Morning After, so they are actively preventing him from fathering children.

Aemond

Speak High Valaryian between my legs to me

That smooth, cool voice just effortlessly tearing into Aegon. That had no business being THAT hot.

It’s nice to know Aegon wasn’t planned on being there. At least they have some sort of brain in their heads.

My take is that Aemond gave Aegon a chance, and came to his aid when it was clear he couldn’t win on his own. I also prefer to think that he didn’t mean to roast his brother.

We see Aemond walking around the crash site with his sword out. He is in the process of sheathing his sword when Cole approaches.

He exchanges no words, just points to where his brother and Sunfyre are.

My guess is they will try to frame it as “Aegon was a big dumb dummy and we needed him out of the way”

Aegon

He is so upset no one is listening to him. Can’t say I blame him.

His broken HV 😭 especially in comparison to Aemond’s easy grasp of the language.

“Mom, why are you in my room?”

Alicent has no idea the morning her son has had and her words are most certainly what pushes him over the edge.

The little kitty cat bapping of the pitcher off the table 😭

OH MY STARS AND GARTERS, THE SUNFYRE BOND!!!

Just a happy golden boi giving his rider a chest boop with his snoot. I may never recover from this. This is how I imagine TGC greets his dog when he gets home.

Sunfyre doesn’t need HV commands, he knows what Aegon wants. (Lemme guess Condal, Sunfyre just kind of forgot dragons only understand HV, it’s not because of their bond)

Golden Boi doing his absolute bestest!!! Poor baby has 0 battle experience. What he does have is a drunk rider and a can do attitude!

Maybe drunken dragon fighting was a bad idea?

The golden flames tho!!!!

Cole

Finally using his head for more than something to put his helm on.

It was a good plan. Kudos for the thought that went into it. Unfortunately, no one accounted for Aegon drinking and flying.

Not Gwayne instantly thinking Cole planned on Aegon showing up at the exact worst possible time.

Riding hard to get to Aegon, even as Aemond and Rhaenys fight overhead.

First thing he does when he regains consciousness is resume his search for Aegon.

Falling to his knees when he sees his eldest surrogate son burned and broken after his first taste of battle. He may not fully respect Aegon’s authority, but he still cares for him as a person. As his son.

Sunfyre:

WE WERE ROBBED

We needed more Sunfyre! He has been on screen for like two minutes, but in those two minutes he showed so much personality. The boop! THE BOOP!!!!

He throws up a wing against Vhagar’s flame to protect Aegon.

When they fall, sunfyre curls around Aegon to protect him.

Vhagar

How TF did they manage to hide a mountain of a dragon in the woods?

She is a real one for that nap, though 😂

Aemond said “wait” and she was like “thank FUCK!” And just flopped back down for a snooze.

How is this giant somehow also a master of stealth?

I understand Meyles being able to sneak up on Sunfyre, she is a very fast dragon, but Vhagar is noted to be slow.

But somehow she just manages to pop out of nowhere and snack on other dragons no problem.

Grabbing Meyles by the leg and roasting her. Grandma knows how to handle these hatchlings!

Conclusion:

Can we please have more focus on the dragons in a show about war between dragon riders? They are more than just transportation devices. They have personalities. I WANT TO SEE MORE OF THAT. Not more Syrax and Caraxes. Syrax is less of a dragon and more of a chicken pony, and we have seen the noodle boi so much. Show us the Green dragons FFS. They have less. It should be easier to show all of theirs, but instead we are constantly shown the dragons being used to patrol or transport the blacks. The one other time we see Vhagar it’s from miles away while she is patrolling KL. Also, why are none of these riders practicing evasive tactics? That seems really important. Instead they just fly at one another, clash, lock and bunny kick the shit out of their opponent.

I would just love to see them actually doing something with their dragons other than just using them as horses.

[raylazuko]

Genshin Spoilers

Okay okay lemme cook for a second.

Anyone else find the blood purity and relations shit weird?

Like what we know now is that Caribert died at age 8 in the creation of the loom of fate. So therefore Caribert has no heir and was also regarded as an illegitimate child by Clothar and that his mother is of Mondstandt origin. So he is not pureblood which is why he was turned into a hillichurl.

We can make assumptions that Clothar had no other children with this woman or if he did, they are still monsters and not able to repoduce, so therefore there are no halfblood heirs of Clothar.

Next I have to talk about race and geography since I’m such a nerd about this crap. So many characters should have darker complexions based on how much sun they get (Sumeru desert, Natlan, and Liyue, PLAYABLE character not just NPCs.) Like if Mualani looks dark compared to 90% of the cast, we have a problem.

So let’s assume Teyvat is a globe and it’s laid out on a flat map for us to see. Let’s also assume that the climate is similar to earth. Let’s assume the equator is around the center so like above most of Liyue and Sumeru. Parts of Mondstandt being based on Italy, it should have a medeterranean climate, therefore melanin, but I digress. Okay so the Sumeru deserts and Natlan are close to the equator. Inazuma would be closer to the South Pole and has a harsh climate hence people not getting sun. (This is also ignoring places like Fontaine which is based on France, where yes, Black people exist in real life, but I digress). The only playable characters with dark(er) skin as well as NPCs are from Natlan and Sumeru (and also Xinyan for some reason).

We also know from Dainsleif, Halfdan, and the Sinners, that they use Norse names. Also Khaenri’ah being underground would mean they got little to no natural light. So it’s safe to assume pureblood Khaenriahs are white as fuck.

With this knowledge, wtf is going on with Kaeya?

We also have to examine how this curse works. If all the non pure bloods were turned into monsters, it’s safe to assume they can’t reproduce. Also judging by Kaeya very clearly being a child in the past and growing up with Diluc, it’s safe to assume that the modern Khaenri’ahns have a normal lifespan (unless being halfblood is what dictates that). It may have diminished or weakened over time, throughout the generations. We don’t know the exact mechanics but we can assume that Kaeya has a normal lifespan. I know Hoyo is gonna try to say he’s pureblood and not explain stuff but logically, no. When he sees Dain he comments “you’re a pureblood Khaenri’ahn” implying that, he, Kaeya, is not that. Also there’s the Sumeru trip when he was young. Assuming that his father is the one with the Alberich surname, which makes sense judging by how surnames usually work, we can assume that Kaeya’s mother was the one who isn’t Khaenri’ahn.

We can assume that the only Khaenrians who could reproduce from that original cursed generation were the ones who retained human form (pure bloods). We can also assume that Kaeya is a descendent of one of Clothar’s pure blood children. He probably had an affair with Caribert’s mother out of wedlock. We can also assume that more blood mixing naturally occurred over time. So either Kaeya’s family has been mixed for awhile and it’s no big deal, or more likely, Kaeya’s father had an affair with Kaeya’s mother out of wedlock. Judging by how dark he is compared to the majority of characters, his Indian inspired outfit for his in-game skin, the trade trip to Sumeru, when he was young, and the geographical proximity, it’s safe to assume that Kaeya’s mother is probably Sumerian (and likely from the desert and Eremite affiliated). I could go deeper into what I think may have happened but for sake of brevity, it’s very possible and likely that one reason Kaeya was sent as a spy and to Mondstandt and not made an heir to the clan has to do with the fact that he’s an illegitimate child.

Okay, another additional note. Ragnvindr is a Norse name, make of that information what you will.

[roguishcat]

Conversations with a vampire - part 7/10

Story summary: A story told through a series of conversations between Astarion and child Tav, tracing the slow and steady progress of trust and friendship.

Chapter summary: Having brought Tav home, Astarion has a conversation with a member of her family.

Tav surprises Astarion by coming up with an unusual way to keep her promise.

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: I'm sorry it's been so long since I've updated this story, I've been trying to work on my writing. Hope you like this chapter! ❤️

“My, my... What mischief did she get up to tonight?” Mamzell Amira looked at him carrying Tav with thinly veiled interest. The woman was dripping in jewels, fine fabric whispering tantalisingly against skin as she lifted her hand to grasp Tav’s chin. Turning the girl’s head sideways, she appraised her appearance before letting go with an inaudible sigh.

“Thank you for bringing her back. You may enter,” she said pointedly, giving him a long look.

Their eyes locked and Astarion scowled.

“Oh, don’t pretend to be so sensitive that you feel offended at being given orders.” She raised an eyebrow and cocked a hip, shifting her stance gracefully.  “Come. We have some things to discuss.”

Astarion did not want to follow the woman, especially when her words sounded more like a command than a request. He has had enough of that in the past two hundred years, being compelled to do Cazador’s bidding. Instead, Astarion told himself that he chose to follow the woman through a concealed entrance that was clearly not meant for the clientele.

They walked down a narrow, winding corridor. Wood creaked underneath their boots, and unlike the areas where clients were entertained, there was no plush carpet to swallow up the sound of their steps. They turned once, then once more. There were no guests, just servants and staff in various states of undress that hurried past quickly. Perfume and incense mixed with the scent of sweat. Giggles, sighs, and groans revibrated in near unison, creating an atmosphere where inhibition was replaced with uninhibited expression of debauchery. Anything for coin. Every fantasy was possible within these rooms, if one could afford it.

Amira stopped in front of a door, unlocking it swiftly and beckoning for Astarion to follow before closing the door behind him. He felt power and saw the door glow. Arcane lock. No way out unless she permitted it.

The elf gave the room a cursory glance. It was pleasantly decorated and seemed like a personal space, where one would relax rather than receive company. One could even call it cosy.

Astarion was just about to set Tav down gently on the plush sofa when a servant appeared and plucked Tav out of his arms as if she weighed nothing, whisking her away. Magic hummed and the servant was gone.

“Sit. Let me have a look at you.” Amira lowered herself to a half recline on a chaise longue, motioning for him to sit in the chair across from her.

She appraised him unabashedly in a way a butcher would look at a prized turkey and clicked her tongue.

“You are a looker. It’s no wonder that she follows you around like a little lovesick pup. She never spoke of you, of course. She never tells anyone anything. But I have my sources,” she said casually, pouring herself some wine into a beautifully crafted gold goblet. She did not offer him any.

“We have been watching you, vampire. Oh, yes. I know what you are.” Mamzell Amira did not seem to be fazed by his scowl and the hard, hostile look shot in her direction. “And if you were any less careful than you have been, you would have been dead in a ditch somewhere,” she took a sip and hummed, apparently pleased with the taste.

“Is it a threat?” Astarion bristled, his hackles raised.

“A threat? Oh, no, my dear, dear frightened boy,” she said with mock concern, her fingers casually dancing over the rim of the goblet. “We all have to watch ourselves, really. This one comes from a very prominent family. An illegitimate child, of course. But potentially an important chess piece. And with no official heir still and Tav turning sixteen soon, her worth just keeps going up!”

Mamzell Amira took another sip of her wine, letting the silence stretch. It was surprisingly quiet in her quarters, considering all the activity that was going on at Sharess’. There was most definitely an enchantment of some sort. He supposed a woman as rich as her could afford the services of a good mage.

“Why hide her in a brothel, of all places?” Astarion was the first to break the silence. “Why not send her somewhere in the countryside? Somewhere far away from the vultures?”

Amira scoffed, as if she had never heard something so ridiculous.

“Oh? And have her turn out a sweet, unassuming country bumpkin? How short-sighted would that be! If she is to run with the wolves, she must know how to show her teeth. Her killing that merchant came as a surprise; I would never have guessed that she had it in her,” she said, sounding proud rather than concerned.

“Besides,” she went on, looking away from him with an unreadable expression, “her father was one of the favourites at Sharess’. Shame about what happened to him, really. Such potential simply wasted. But these things happen when one is careless and gets mixed up with powerful people.”

So, a child of a prostitute and a noble. It wasn’t unheard of, although they had plenty of potions and spells to make sure there were no accidents. This meant that Tav’s mother wanted to have a child enough for her to choose to conceive. The fact that her father was now dead, he presumed, possibly meant that the decision was not well met. Either her mother was foolish and naïve, or wanted to get something out of it. Either way, lovers were disposable. Children could serve a greater purpose down the line. Therefore, there was a very strong possibility that Tav’s family had her father killed. Possibly an accident, a carefully orchestrated charade of an investigation, and then nothing.

“There is not much that the child is fit for, unfortunately. Absolutely talentless. Quite useless. The head of the family was most disappointed by her daughter. Yet, this one may have her uses still. Or just turn out to be the goose that lays the golden eggs,” she said nonchalantly, as if she were discussing inconsequential nothings rather than a child broken by the power games that the patriar families of Baldur’s Gate were playing.

Mamzell lifted herself up higher on the chaise longue, crossing her long, lean legs as she poured herself more wine and popped a grape into her mouth.

“She is still a child,” Astarion spat, incensed at her words about Tav. Was there really no limit to how vile the world could be? “What kind of family allows one of their own to get hurt in such a way? Are they prepared for the scars that this would leave?”

“Life lessons always leave scars. Life is pain. Life is loss. I have no reason to stop her from making mistakes, not when they burn so profoundly, so horribly.” Her smile turned wicked, making a chill run down his spine.

“You are not Mamzell Amira, are you?” He flinched as she barked a laugh.

“Oh, so the spawn can think! Bravo! Yes, the real Mamzell is asleep. She is useful but quite simple. Though that is true of most, of course,” she gave a longsuffering sigh. “Don’t expect me to snap my fingers and show my true form. To reveal myself to the likes of you, to what end?”

She seemed to be finished with the conversation, rising gracefully and walking towards the door.

“Consider this conversation as me sizing you up and finding you lacking. Then again, my disappointment of a granddaughter could not have found herself a more fitting friend. You may leave, spawn.”

“I’m assuming you are going to tell me to stop conversing with Tav, aren’t you?”

“Whatever for? As I said, life lessons always leave scars. The ones that she will get from choosing you for a friend are going to be beautiful, I’m certain.”

Astarion rose stiffly, ruby eyes trained on the woman in front of him. He was not an expert when it came to family relations, yet he was sure that perhaps Tav was better off having no family at all rather than being under the tutelage of this monster who masqueraded as a woman. Tav had a heart. This villain certainly did not.

“Tav. Such a strange name. I wonder why she picked it?” She said more to herself than to Astarion. In any case, the woman seemed to be quite finished with him.

“Grab that man on your way out, won’t you? You have to deliver someone to that Cazador. And seeing as you are still useful, I have no reason for wanting you to be locked up. Off you go,” she dismissed Astarion with a wave, facing away from him as she looked out of the window. Leaving one’s back unprotected in this way whilst in close quarters with a vampire would be considered foolish or borderline suicidal, if it wasn’t for the fact that they both knew that he wouldn’t be able to take a step in her direction without being crushed. There was so much magic in the room that it made his fangs itch and his insides twist. He was no threat to this creature, who was apparently related to Tav.

And so Astarion hoisted whatever soul was unfortunate enough to be captured on this night up on his shoulder and left without another word. After all, what else was there to be said?

Astarion did not see Tav for several months after that. Not that he ever sought her out specifically in the past, but he did find himself glancing in the direction of the brothel as he passed by, looking up at the roofs of the houses that hugged the streets of Rivington in case he would see her perched somewhere on an upper floor.

Astarion rarely noticed change; timeless creatures stuck trudging through the years rarely did. Yet even he soon noticed that the days were growing shorter, the first whispers of autumn filling the air. As the city was shrouded in red, gold, and orange, Astarion and his siblings haunted its streets, plucking victims like overripe fruit. Still, there was no sign of the child that used to follow him around. Astarion was not sure how to feel about it.

The earthy smells of autumn soon gave way to the first chills of winter, its cold breath making streets clear of anyone idling the hours away. Clutching their collars closed, Baldurians hurried down slippery streets to seek shelter in taverns, where Astarion and the other spawn waited for them with warm wine and heated promises.

And just like many times before, it was Tav that found him, surprisingly by Elfsong, so far from where she was previously able to go. Astarion quirked an eyebrow as he walked out of the tavern to see her leaning against the wall. For whatever reason, the enchanted band round Tav's ankle no longer shackled her to the streets of Rivington.

“Hi,” Tav said timidly, running her fingers through her blonde hair. “I- I am sorry about what happened when I saw you last. It’s quite embarrassing, really.” She gave a high-pitched, nervous laugh, shifting from foot to foot, eyes darting to look at anything but his face.

It was strange that most of all she was worried what he would think.

Tav was dressed in layers of black with shimmering red and gold hexagon patterns. The fur-trimmed collar was high, buttoned up to the very top, and the clothes would be almost shapeless if not for the cleverly hidden buttons and ties that held the structure in place. Cloth rustled softly against cloth as she moved. Unlike the clothes that she wore before, this outfit made her look older. Or perhaps that was not it. Perhaps there were some other imperceptible changes that one could not immediately put a finger on.

“And how are you feeling?” Astarion asked, walking away but not so fast that she couldn’t follow.

Tav shrugged and scrunched her nose, as if it hadn’t occurred to her to analyse how she felt until he asked.

“I think I’m okay. I don’t know. They brought a healer, and I guess I feel better. I can still remember what happened vividly, but it feels like it happened to someone else. Weird, right?”

“At least I can pick my own clothes out now. Apparently, you have to literally kill someone round here to get someone to respect you,” she joked weakly.

“Anyway," she cleared her throat, "I wanted to thank you. Thank you for looking after me then, I mean.”

“Well,” he huffed, “your debts just keep stacking up. I suppose you would have no choice but to follow me around long enough to repay them.”

“It would seem so.” Tav smiled a little. It was a weak attempt, but it was better than blank looks or tears. Astarion was pleased that she was holding it together much better than he thought she would.

“Also, I found this in my bag.”

Tav stuck her hand into her brocade bag, once again making Astarion wonder what sort of enchantment would make for such a useful accessory and where one would learn it. Rummaging about, she produced a handkerchief. It was a little crumpled, squashed, and full of untidy creases and folds. Tav straightened it with utmost care, revealing the all-too-familiar embroidery.

“I’ve never seen it before in my life,” Astarion stated in a tone that brooked no argument.

She didn’t bother to pretend to believe him.

“I never get Midwinter presents. Or any presents for that matter. Not even once.”

“I mean,” she sighed and pushed her hair out of her eyes, “I get things for me to use delivered, and the tailor now comes to Sharess’ for me to choose my own clothes. And I get plenty of money to spend, but I- I never actually-” she cleared her throat and took a deep breath. “I just wanted you to know that this means a lot. It’s beautiful.” She gulped when she found that her fingers were shaking and squeezed the handkerchief to her chest.

Astarion found that he was quite unprepared for such genuine gratitude. It wasn’t that special, not compared to the extravagant ensembles and jewellery she wore. He simply had a bit of time on his hands and needed a distraction. So, he embroidered her name and a pretty, delicate butterfly perched on a flower using some red thread.

The handkerchief was dreadfully plain, but Tav looked at it with such open adoration that he felt his shoulders relax a touch.

“I love red. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Well, that is simply a coincidence.” Astarion turned away with a huff. “I had no intention of choosing red, just something I had rattling about in my drawer.” Children were ridiculous creatures. Showing their emotions so freely. Someone really ought to teach Tav not to wear her heart on her sleeve like that.

“Still, I love it. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“Well, when one’s standards are so low, it is not difficult to surpass expectations,” he shot over his shoulder.

“By the way, don’t think I’ve forgotten our deal. In fact, as you stopped accepting the potions, I’ve got something else that’s even better.”

She took a scroll out of her bag.

Circling him, Tav grasped his hand tightly. She curled her pinky finger around his, stated that it was perfectly safe, and then proceeded to mutter something he couldn’t make out. The scroll glowed warmly and disappeared, specks of power settling over their hands and then seeping under skin.

“What in the hells was that?” Astarion slapped her hand away with a hiss and took a step back. It didn’t hurt in the least, but he did not know what Tav’s definition of ‘perfectly safe’ was.

“A promise spell,” Tav said breezily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Beg pardon?” he questioned incredulously. Because surely she did not just make him a ‘pinky promise’ out of all things! How very juvenile and how very Tav.

“I promised to set you free and get rid of Cazador, but words just ring a little hollow. And the spell creates a magic bond between the caster and another willing creature-"

“Well now, I don’t recall being asked!” Astarion all but hissed. “Surely you could have thought this through for five minutes! Or at least have given me a warning!”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” she scrunched her nose and frowned, as if the thought hadn’t really occurred to her.

“Well, what’s done is done, I suppose,” Astarion gave a longsuffering sigh at her visibly chastened look and commended himself on having the patience of a saint. “Besides, if I am to bear your company, I might as well know that it is all for a worthy cause.”

Tav’s mouth quirked into a smile. Seeing as Astarion didn’t look angry anymore, it wouldn’t hurt to show off a little.

“By the way, look what I can do now.”

She waved her hand, and all lights in the streets wavered, the colour cooling and turning purple, bathing the street in a pretty, if eerie, glow.

“How’s that for a fun party trick?” Tav boasted, clearly very pleased with herself.

“Cute,” he scoffed. “But hardly useful.”

He had to admit, for a child that seemed to take pride in the fact that she slept through most of her spellcasting lessons, she seemed to have performed the trick easily enough.

“I can do all sorts of things now. Not sure why, but doing magic has become much easier since- since that merchant died,” she finished weakly and swallowed.

Astarion supposed this was the part when he was meant to give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and impart some words of wisdom. Except he was not the type to do either, so his silence would have to do. Luckily, Tav seemed to snap back to reality quickly enough.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! I got Ebony back!”

One had to admire how easily Tav bounced between emotions. Although keeping up with her changing moods would be enough to give one a headache.

“Dare I ask who is Ebony?” He drawled with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched some drunks stumble past them. He ought to follow the two humans; they seemed the type that could be coaxed to come with him with nothing but promises of free wine and a straw mattress to sleep on. Yet, he stayed to listen to childish prattle.

“Ebony is my dog. Used to ride her around when I was about five.”

“And why would I be interested in some mangy, flea-bitten animal?” Astarion let out with a smirk still on his lips.

“Hey! Ebony is a beauty! For your sake, I will tell her that you were joking when you called her that.”

Ah, there she was. No trace of sadness in her blue eyes. A useless victory that warmed his undead heart.

“And where is that dog of yours?”

“Oh, somewhere about. She comes and goes as she pleases, unless I actually call her. She likes her independence.”

Just wonderful. A potentially mad child followed about by an apparently invisible dog. He sure knew how to pick his acquaintances.  

“Whatever is happening to me, I think it is a good change. I can feel myself growing stronger. So just wait a little longer, Astarion. We will be free.”

She blended into the shadows, making him blink in confusion as it became hard to focus on her. It was as if she became one with darkness, making him once again wonder. Wonder if by some unimaginable stroke of luck he actually managed to find himself a half-useful ally.

The pale elf looked down at his hand, noting that if he focused on his fingers, he could see the faint glow around the smallest digit.

“A promise spell,” he mumbled to himself softly.

He hadn’t heard of anything like it. Which made him wonder, what exactly was this mystical pact that he found himself a part of? And what set of circumstances could possibly lead to this promise being fulfilled?

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[bethanydelleman]

I forgot if I already asked you or just thought about it:

Do you think Adele is Mr. Rochester's biological daughter? He doesn't think so and Jane couldn't find any resemblance between them but maybe she just takes after her mother a lot? But I have to admit it's a better look for Mr. Rochester if he takes in the illegitimate daughter of the woman that cheated on him out of pity than his own child out of obligation.

Either way I think Adele is a very sad character although it doesn't seem to bother her. Then again, she's only seven when we meet her.

I think it's impossible to know if Adele is Rochester's or not, because some kids don't look much like their father and DNA testing won't be around for about 150 years. I will always find his confident denial ridiculous.

That said, I think he denies Adele is his child because that makes him more of the hero of Adele's story than just someone acting out of obligation. However, it would also be pretty impossible for anyone to force him to take care of Adele, what with international borders and proof that Adele's mother was unfaithful, so I do think that Rochester's care of his maybe-daughter is admirable, no matter what you believe about her parentage.

Adele does seem to have landed in good hands, so I don't exactly feel sorry for her. She is doing better than the majority of natural children born in this era. Also, I find her characterization freaking hilarious. It's VERY revealing of Charlotte Brontë's prejudices. Here are two quotes:

I e’en took the poor thing out of the slime and mud of Paris, and transplanted it here, to grow up clean in the wholesome soil of an English country garden.

As she grew up, a sound English education corrected in a great measure her French defects; and when she left school, I found in her a pleasing and obliging companion: docile, good-tempered, and well-principled.

It's pretty heavily implied that Adele, either by nature or very early FRENCH nurture, is going to grow up into some sort of harlot unless they ENGLISH her away from the depths of Hell. And the way Jane Eyre talks about the French mother seducing the poor English Rochester, as if he didn't wander into France with the exact intention of finding a mistress... Well Charlotte Brontë seems to think very poorly of the French is all I'll say, despite the fact that she could clearly speak and write French herself.