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#for vastly different goals but… you know

bbyteach · 4 months

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Uhhh sooooo NYC 80’s punk scene AU where ed used to play in bands when younger but not anymore & runs a popular venue and is totally burned out on the scene. Until a blonde weirdo wearing pastels started coming to shows there and he had to understand what is going on with this guy?? And the guy wants to learn more about this world and Ed confused but ends up having more fun than he has in ages??

#ofmd #blackbonnet #our flag means death #edward teach #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #ofmd season 2 #my draws #ofmd au #I rushed the first one to hammer it out bc last drawing of the year babyyyyy #one of Ed’s old bands was called ‘here comes the kraken’#anyway he’s burned out on The Grind and all the bad bs in punk spaces overall #he’s not too cool to get flowers now in fact he welcomes the occasion okay #and uh. happy new year #oh and the venue is queen Anne’s revenge bc he’s a pirate history nerd maybe idk #punks and pirates seem like they are kindred spirits #for vastly different goals but… you know

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mrchiipchrome · 15 days

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Work

W.C. - 1.2 k

a/n: I’ve been having so much fun dealing with migraines, a break up, exams and getting an eye infection that I’ve totally forgot to write, so take this as a sort of apology:)

———————

It wasn’t hard to be the best footballer in the world’s girlfriend. All things considered, life with Aitana was pretty good, amazing even, if it weren’t for Aitana’s incessant need to ask people if they were employed.

It started small, when Aitana first met your family in Sweden, she had asked your brother whether he worked or not, happy when he started raving about his work, happy to find someone as passionate about their work as her.

Since that interaction it seemed like she searched that passion out in every interaction she had, going as far as to climb over rows of seats in order to speak to people.

She was nothing short of a social butterfly, and you were her anti-social caterpillar. The Swede in you was drawn to the Spanish affectionate nature even if it was vastly different from your own.

Your tiny girlfriend was as much of a magician on the pitch as she was off it, her ability to simply vanish the second you took your eyes off her was quite impressive, but not very enjoyable on your part. You almost had to invest in a private investigator to figure out how she did it, the way she always fooled you simply driving you crazy to the point of oblivion.

Still, you loved her strange habits simply for the fortune of having her, having her in every way imaginable.

You loved getting to hold her even as she squirmed to get away, kisses raining down on her face after a long game, using your substantially taller frame to put some space between her feet and the ground so that she wouldn’t be able to get away.

———————

Your muscles ache as your feet thump against the ground, the last game before a small break one of great performances, you yourself slipping 4 goals past the keeper, all of them assisted by your wonderful girlfriend.

Still, despite your obviously tired appearance, you were still ushered away to the corner of the pitch for an interview, being handed a man of the match award for your efforts during the game. This meant that your girlfriend was left unsupervised, your tired mind mixed with needing to seem professional before the camera completely taking up all your attention, meaning you didn’t immediately notice your girlfriend beelining for the stands.

“So, how does it feel to be back in the squad after the hamstring injury?” The reporter looks at you intently, trying her hardest to stare into your soul, or that’s at least what it seems like.

“Yeah, I mean it’s always special to be part of this squad, I’m not even going to lie and say that it’s been easy sitting on the bench when all I wanted was to jump on the field and score again but ultimately I got through it. I’m really happy with the performance as well, my beautiful girlfriend assisted all my goals so that makes it even better.” You smile widely when you mention your girlfriend, seeing through half-lidded eyes as the reporter's smile drops before she plasters it back on.

‘No need to be unprofessional now’ you think to yourself, looking away from her in search of that girlfriend to see if she could save you from the creepy situation.

But in your attempt to catch your girlfriend’s attention, you see her about to climb over the railings to talk to fans. You know that it’s dangerous, not only because of the altitude, but also because you never knew the intentions of some fans.

Somewhere in the background you can hear the reporter speaking to you, but you don’t pay her any mind, simply getting more anxious the longer you are standing there.

“It has to be special to be back with your teammates-”

“Perdón!” Is all you’re able to get out before you take off in Aitana’s direction, your legs no longer aching thankfully enough.

Your hands latch around her hips, tugging her softly away from the railing like you would a cat that had burrowed its claws into the couch. Aitana yelps as she looks back at you suspiciously, her hands coming down to rest on your shoulders when she realized that she didn’t have any plan of escape, seemingly just accepting her fate.

There are multiple cameras pointed at you, including the social media manager’s, so you just know that the interaction would find itself on the internet by the time you would be sitting in the bus.

Strangely enough, you didn’t mind that fact all that much, liking that the world would see how much you loved your girlfriend, maybe it would discourage reporters from trying to shoot their shot with you.

“Hey there pretty lady, whatchu’ doin’?” Aitana smiles at you innocently, acting like she totally didn’t try to climb over the railings. She presses a quick kiss to your cold cheek, enjoying the way your face darkens a few shades, the red spreading up your cheeks like food coloring in water.

It leads her to continue, kisses soon being placed on every single space on your face, with you soon blending in with the tomatoes you were growing in your garden.

“You are very cute.” She whispers lowly, her eyes flitting over your face as she smiles, keeping the words between the two of you like it was a secret only meant for your ears. Perhaps it was, you never knew with Aitana.

“And you are trying to distract me from the fact that you were totally trying to climb up into the stands. You’re lucky to be adorable, because Jona is one more abandoned interview away from benching me.” You boop her nose, shifting her body around so that your left arm was the only thing holding her body up, her arms still around your shoulders.

Walking back towards the interviewer, her professional smile drops from her face the second she sees Aitana perched on your arm, but nonetheless you approach her civilly. Aitana smiles brightly at the camera soon pointed at her again, media training mixed with the attention she’s getting from you being the perfect situation for the camera.

“Hola, lo siento, this one was getting herself into trouble. Had to get her out, don’t want the gaffer to bench the superstar now do we?” You motion towards Aitana with your head, the girl still sitting perched atop your arm slapping the back of your head lightly. Switching her around again, you quickly put her down back on her own feet, Aitana’s arms coming down to wrap around your waist tightly, almost possessive in a way.

“Thank you for today, that was all we needed. Here’s your man of the match trophy.” You get handed the trophy, turning to your girlfriend to brag, only to find her gone once more, her small body shooting across the pitch to get as much space between you two as she could.

It was almost as if you could see into the future as she jumps up and throws herself over the railings, giggling madly along the way.

You start to laugh too, the high speed chase the biggest highlight of the day, because not even scoring 4 goals could overshadow spending even a second laughing with your girl.

And even though Mapi would be teasing you for weeks about the absolute lovesick actions that day, you wouldn’t have it any different, besides you had more than enough ammunition to be able to blackmail her for eternity, so it didn’t really matter anyways.

#woso #woso x reader #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #barcelona femeni x reader #aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #stay tuned for the Alessia fic it’s currently at 9.6 k words:)

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femmefatalevibe · 10 months

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Femme Fatale Guide: How To Validate Yourself & Stop People Pleasing

A comprehensive guide to learn love & trust yourself and break out of your people-pleasing identity. Hope this helps xx

HOW TO MASTER THE ART OF SELF-VALIDATION:

Remember the longest relationship you have in life is the one with yourself. While we all need an external support system to be well-rounded & healthy individuals, no one else will be with you throughout your entire life except for you. So, acting as your own best friend is the secret to living your happiest and most fulfilling life. You ultimately need to do what's best for you. Otherwise, you're damaging the only relationship you will have to confront in every aspect and stage of your life.

Acknowledge your humanity and fundamental right to have needs, goals, and personal desires. Validate your personhood and individuality. Remember you're only human and are bound to have your own physical/emotional limitations and preferences. If you would be willing to cater to others' schedules, boundaries, and limitations, give yourself this equal level of respect and expect others to do the same.

Know everyone is self-centered to a certain degree. No one cares about your happiness as much or is watching you as closely as you are. They all have themselves and their lives to worry about. People are paying attention to their own self-interests (or want you to accomplish things to boost their own credibility or self-esteem). Being your greatest personal cheerleader is the only way to fully give yourself the praise and spotlight you deserve for your accomplishments.

Self-confidence is magnetic. It is the secret to showing up as your best self in all areas of life. Being secure in yourself makes you a better friend, family member, lover, partner, spouse, professional, conversationalist, etc. Validating yourself will make you feel good, but also radiates into every relationship or interaction in your life.

Discover what you love about yourself. Reflect on the personality traits, skillsets, and behaviors you know to be admirable about yourself. Are you constantly making others laugh? Do you get endless praise for your cooking, drawing, singing, or problem-solving skills? Would people come to you first to manage a crisis like a champion? Are you a master disciplinarian when it comes to going to the gym or reading? Do people regularly compliment your outfits or nails? Think of all of the aspects of your being that make you unique and help you to feel content with your existing, authentic self.

Take control of your life to cultivate your ideal self. While you should consistently praise your naturally admirable qualities, remember that you always can change aspects of your life that will help you feel like your best self. Know that you're in control of your decisions and have the mental freedom to think & act in any way you desire to reach any goals or implement lifestyle changes to feel like the person you feel destined to be.

Block out the noise and negative self-talk. We're (almost always!) our worst critics. Consider every new experience or interaction as a learning opportunity. Mistakes and failures are life lessons that facilitate self-reflection and opportunities for growth. Remember not to beat yourself up for past mistakes: You did the best you could with the information you had at the time. If you weren't embarrassed by your past self, you never gave yourself the chance to evolve and grow. Every success, failure, and new life stage offers its own lessons and teachable moments. Remember that we're all our own unique life paths. Comparing your life to someone else's is like comparing apples and oranges. Both entities may be fruitful but have vastly different flavor profiles, growing seasons, and rates at which they ripen. As Dita Von Tesse shrewdly said: "You can be the ripest, juiciest peach in the world, and there will always be someone who hates peaches."

HOW TO STOP PEOPLE PLEASING:

Acknowledge that people-pleasing is a form of self-neglect. By prioritizing another person's desires or approval above your own, you're ultimately neglecting your physical, emotional, energetic, or spiritual needs. Consider acting in your best in your own best interest as an act of self-care that safeguards your well-being.

Set boundaries. State your limitations, calmly, clearly, and directly. Understand that boundaries are your response to other people's actions, not a means to control other people's behavior. An expectation would be to ask someone not to call you during the workday. A boundary is stating that you will not pick up the phone during the workday and will only make/return calls in the evening after leaving the office.

Communicate your needs & expectations clearly. While you can't control what others will do, being upfront with your needs and expectations can eliminate unnecessary stress, logistical issues, misplaced hurt feelings, or disappointment in any type of relationship. Direct communication between parties will allow you both to respect each other's boundaries and to prioritize interactions that are mutually more positive, helpful, and emotionally nourishing.

Express your "no" freely (and without over-explaining). Remember that "No" is a complete sentence. You do not owe someone your time or emotional energy simply because they asked or expect you to do something/attend an event out of perceived obligation/guilt or simply to make someone else happy. Making sure you're okay is your first priority. Feel free to say "no" to any requests that would emotionally drain you, make you overextend yourself, or compromise any of your personal values/goals/priorities. You don't need to justify your needs. Just kindly decline, and let it be.

Remain consistent with your boundaries & priorities. People will treat you how you let them treat you. Once you set a boundary or share your priorities will someone, stick to these words through your actions to show you're serious about how you expect to be treated. Teach people how to interact with you in a way that doesn't feel self-sacrificing. No one will respect your boundaries and priorities if you don't and are easily swayed to forgo these self-imposed standards on a day-to-day or case-by-case basis.

Consider the long-term consequences of people-pleasing. While it may appease immediate conflict or anxiety, people-pleasing offers a one-way ticket to resentment and misplaced anger. By ignoring our own needs for the sake of others, we place unspoken expectations on these individuals' obligations to reciprocate our emotional labor – whether it be with their future actions or matching our generosity with unprompted favors or emotional support. We start keeping score as we continuously give ourselves over to others of perceived obligation. When someone doesn't return the favor, we get upset, despite never expressing this expectation of someone else or that we're even self-sacrificing in any way. This can lead to us feeling depleted or guilt-tripping others, and from their perspective, seemingly out of nowhere. It is best to remember we always have a choice whether to give to others and it should be of a genuine desire, love, or support for the other person – not as a way to gain external validation or manipulate a situation to create a false sense of obligation that we keep ourselves or the receiving party beholden to. Think of your energy, time, and personal resources given to others as a gift, not a bargaining chip.

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monakisu · 3 months

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I want you to know that I came across a random post of your Death Note art, went "Awww, oh my gosh, with the way this person draws Light I think Akechi would look fantastic in the same style!", clicked onto your profile, and then saw your newest artwork was Akechi. I'm still kind of cackling over it and thought maybe you'd find it funny too. Your art is SO cute, I'm very happy I found it <333

HAHA THAT’S AMAZING (<< was an akechi artist wayyyy before i fell head over heels for light)

but rlly… theyre so similar:

- brunet

- asshole

- pretty boy

- mass murderer

- black-haired homoerotic rival

at the end of the day, the key difference is one is a top and the other is a bottom.

ok but seriously, they’re vastly different characters on a fundamental level:

- light was handed everything him on a silver platter: family, friends, looks, intellect, a comfortable life… as a bastard child of a sex worker and now an orphan, goro had to fight his way to his current position and will always harbor a terrible sense of inferiority (light is completely confident in his absolute superiority, Always (that’s why the challenge of L sent him off the deep end of obsession lol))

- light genuinely sees himself as a hero, while goro would like to feel the same but is nonetheless depressingly aware of his villain’s journey (his undesirable position as the detective vs the underdog phantom thieves, his string of assassinations, his ultimate dirty bloody goal, etc.).

- light’s motive is about the world’s salvation, cleansing, the birth of his ideal reality (very messianic of him with the slightest loving tinge of mary cradling her lamb hahaha) while goro is laser-focused on ruining this one asshole’s life in particular, vengeance and revenge at once! one’s focused on rebirth, and the other gunning straight for death! they both use murder to get what they want but light probably floats around thinking himself so clean and divine as mother of the world (ignorance is bliss) while goro is constantly desperately trying to cover up his suspiciously red hands with his gloves hehehe… they’re both constantly striving for perfection, just with varying levels of self-awareness!!

- goro is a canonical loner; light has a horde of friends; this is probably due to a difference in public persona! goro is an untouchable idea of what he thinks a human should be and is completely out of the loop when it comes to normal social interactions (believes opening with hegel will instantly endear himself to the average person (luckily he inflicted that upon akira who is decidedly not average in the slightest)), light is implied to be more down-to-earth and even slightly goofy (he’s gaming decorum like an advanced speedrunner)! it’s probably good how distant goro is, because getting any closer to him will allow you to see how off-putting and uncanny he is, sorta like an AI-generated image—seams in the wrong places and far too much teeth LOL. meanwhile light has this whole shebang so thoroughly figured out that he’s BORED with it all! he’d like to move on to the next game (with L), thank you!! light definitely still exudes uncanny creepiness (it’s his natural state of being) especially when he zones out or starts hysterically cackling out of nowhere at his own thoughts, but he’s a hundred times better at masking compared to goro due to a better upbringing. goro is starved for the adoring friends he sees akira easily picking up one after another; light couldn’t give less of a shit because he’s always had those trivial luxuries! he’d much rather prefer an adoring WORLD!!

- then there’s the difference in how they die… one started out surrounded with company but ultimately died alone, while it’s the opposite for the other (if you count the de-realization of maruki’s reality as goro’s “death” (which i don’t)).

- in conclusion, light and goro are like funhouse mirror reflections of each other!!! one is a pampered lapdog getting a taste of rabies and letting loose, while the other is a starving wolf trying to domesticate itself for treats and headpats!! and i <3 them both!!!!!

anyways i may be wrong about light because im going purely off of fics, tumblr shitposts, and my own imagination :] feel free to school me in a way that won’t destroy my delusions!

#美迪 archive #💡princess posting⋆˚✿˖°#mailbox 💌#light yagami #death note #goro akechi #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #art #artists on tumblr #digital art #doodle #rkgk #画画 #涂鸦

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topguncortez · 1 year

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Older, Wiser, More Experienced

Spring Break Kickback | Masterlist

synopsis: Bradley knew you were innocent, but he wasn't just sure how innocent you were.

prompt: “There is no way anyone is that innocent.”

word count: 3.1k

warnings: age gap (reader is 23, Bradley is 35), oral sex (f receiving), mentions of phone sex, blink and you miss it corruption kink, a dash of daddy kink.

Bradley wasn’t quite sure what he was getting himself into when he first walked up and asked for your number. The aura you gave off was a sophisticated one. You handled yourself with such poise and control that he surely thought you were near the same age as him. But then he watched as the bartender asked for your ID, and got a glimpse of the last digits of your birth year and nearly had a heart attack. You asked him if the twelve year age gap was an issue for him, and he just shook his head and smiled.

You were twenty-three, but very mature for your age. You graduated college two years prior, and landed a good job with a well known law firm in LA, handling some high profile clients. You told Bradley that you had to grow up quick, your childhood anything but glamorous. You spent your high school and college years with your nose in your textbooks, determined to get into your dream school and become a lawyer. He admired your charisma and spunk that you had. He liked girls who had goals and followed through with them.

However, those years of spending time alone in your dorm and apartment set you vastly against the rest of your peers. You didn’t know how to tell him, slightly frightened of how he would take it. You had only had one “boyfriend” if you’d even call it that, and he dumped you the second you said you were a virgin. But Bradley was different from college frat boys, but alas he was still a man. And you. . . well you hardly knew the first thing about sex. So, just like how you did in college, you began researching. And man, were you both terrified and intrigued.

Bradley never pressured you with the sex stuff. He was a proper gentleman, and decided to take your cues on everything, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable. Hell for the first six weeks of being together, he didn’t do more than hold your hand. It was a constant battle to not just lean in and kiss your plump lips, but he knew that his mother would smack him if he did without your permission. But then one day you turned to him during the middle of the Lion King and asked him to kiss you.

He had been caught off guard, and it took him a second for his mind to catch up, but he obliged by your request and kissed you. And since that night, nearly two weeks ago, it was like a beast had been unleashed and was clawing its way out of you. You didn’t know that even the simplest kiss could send that shiver down your spine and in between your legs like those smut novels you read could. For the past couple weeks, that’s all the two of you have done, shared quick kisses here and there. But now you laid your head on his chest, you wanted more. His brown eyes were trained on the TV screen in front of him, and you looked over his features.

“Just take a picture, sweetheart,” Bradley looked down at you and you quickly looked away, a blush on your face. You were silent for a moment, before looking back up at him and he looked back at you, “What’s up, darlin?”

You opened your mouth to say something, but suddenly words failed you. The only thing that came to mind was to kiss him and that’s what you did. Bradley reacted within a split second and kissed you back, but as he went to pull away, you put your hand on the back of his neck and deepened the kiss. He was surprised, but didn’t show it. His hand went and rested on the thigh of the leg you had draped over his. His rough palm sends shivers up your body as he moves his hand up and down your skin. You pulled away breathlessly, but pulled his head down to place kisses on your neck.

“More,” You pleaded and Bradley nodded, the hairs of his mustache tickling your skin as he kissed your neck. You closed your eyes tightly as you felt that familiar pulsing in between your legs. That oh so delightful feeling that you had never indulged in, but loved so much. Bradley had been the only real guy to bring out that feeling, and you wanted more of it. As if he could read your mind, he pulled away from your neck and kissed your lips again, shifting your body so he could set you on his lap, straddling him. His hands ghosted down the sides of your body before resting on your hips, pulling you down even more. You gasped as you felt something hard against your thigh, and you pulled back from him.

“What? Too much? I’m sor-” Bradley began to speak but you shook your head, “Talk to me, sweetheart, please.” He gently cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over the supple part of it. You loved when he did that, and nuzzled into the warmth of his hand.

“Bradley, I. . . I’ve never done. . . You’re the first guy I’ve ever kissed,” You admitted and Bradley slowly looked up at you.

“What?”

You wanted to hide, but you knew it was now or never. That if Bradley wasn’t the man you thought he was, it would be better to get the heartbreak over and done with now, than let this go on any longer. You were trying to conjure up in your head what you were going to say next on how you would explain your lack of experience without sounding totally pathetic. That’s how guys your age saw you. Pathetic. What twenty some year old had never had her first kiss? But something deep down, told you that Bradley was different.

“There is no way anyone is that innocent,” Bradley said.

Well, not anymore.

You snapped your head up at him, tears welling in your eyes and he quickly regretted every word that just came out of his mouth. He didn’t mean for it to sound bad. It was that he was utterly shocked. He knew that you wanted to take things slow, and so did he. He was in no rush to just get down and dirty. He genuinely cared about you, and wanted this to be more than a friends with benefits thing. But he didn’t know that your apprehensiveness was due to inexperience. Which now the way you looked at him, made him feel like the biggest asshole on the planet.

“No, baby, it’s not like that,” Bradley said and rested both of his hands on your back.

“Then what is it like, Bradley?” You spat.

“I mean it as. . . You’re a virgin.”

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest, “I am. But I’m not some bible prude.” You turned your nose up and Bradley couldn’t help but chuckle a bit, “I just haven’t found anyone that makes me. . . get. . . mushy?”

“Mushy?”

“That’s how they describe it in the books.”

“Books?”

“Yeah you know like. . . spicy books,” You mumbled. You knew that if you held a tomato up to you right now, you would not be able to spot a difference.

You watched as that boyish grin spread across his face, “You read porn?”

“It’s not porn!” You slap his chest and Bradley chuckles. He wraps his arms around you and brings you in close, so your head is resting on his chest. You suddenly realize that you really like this position and you think that Bradley can tell too.

“I’m following your lead here sweetheart. You tell me what you want to do. I’ll do whatever you are comfortable with,” Bradley said, running his hands up and down your back. You nodded and placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth. You gently moved so you were laying on the side of him, your head still on his chest and his arms around. He hummed in satisfaction and squeezed you a bit tighter.

— — —

True to Bradley’s word, he had followed your lead completely when it came to sexual things. You hadn’t done anything more than just some making out and on top of the clothes touching, but you knew he was dying to do more. And he knew you were too. It almost caused you pain to push him away, put you were scared of that feeling in your body as you’d grind against Bradley’s lap. Bradley was doing what he could to help you, letting you know that the “mushy” feeling you were feeling was normal and encouraging you to touch yourself when you were alone.

You didn’t know the first thing about masturbating, but luckily Bradley knew a thing or two about female pleasure. He had called you one night, and walked you through the steps. On what to rub, what to touch, how it should feel. You were almost one hundred percent sure that you stopped before you could actually orgasm. The shaking of your legs and that tight feeling in your stomach was too much. Bradley promised that once you actually did it, it would be the most euphoric feeling you ever felt.

“Bradley,” You whined out as his hands skimmed up under the sweatshirt you were wearing. The two of you were having yet another movie night at his place. You were slowly making your way through the Harry Potter series, the fifth installment acting more as background noise than entertainment. Your wear leaning against the arm of the couch, with Bradley nearly on top of you, both of your legs crossed over his lap as you two made out.

“That’s my name, honey,” He said against your skin. He pulled away from you, so you could see his face, his hand grabbing yours and intertwining your fingers with his, “How can I be of service?”

You had been practicing how you were going to say this all week. It wasn’t something that he had even brought up yet, but during one of your research dives you had come across a rather interesting video. And of course that video led you on a deep dive into other videos, but they were all the same, with all the same outcome.

“Do you. . . do you like, uh, oral sex?” You asked him.

It was silent for a moment as Bradley had to restart the computer that was his brain. He wasn’t sure how such a simple, innocent question, turned him on so much.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Yes, I do like oral sex,” Bradley said. All guys liked a good blowjob every once in a while. Bradley would be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of the day you’d get on your knees and put his mouth on him.

“Do you like. . . giving it?”

No one had ever asked Bradley that question before and it had taken him aback. But he nodded and said, “Yeah. I do like giving oral sex. Why do you ask, sweetheart?”

He watched as you fiddled with your intertwined fingers, and as the blush creeped up your neck. You smiled softly as you looked up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and wonder.

“Could you. . . Could you give it to me? Oral sex, I mean.”

Bradley could not think of a single sensible word in his head, so all he did was lean forward and kiss you until his mind could catch up. No girl had ever asked him to give them head, and not that he expected them to. He’d always ask the girl if she was okay with it before he settled between their legs, but he had never flat out been asked like this. And it made him want you all that much more. Bradley pulled back from the kiss and nodded, pecking your forehead.

“Yes. Yes, I can give you that,” Bradley said and you nodded like an eager child on Christmas, “Get comfy, baby. Do you want to stay here or go to my room?”

“Here, please,” You answered quickly. You hadn’t ever seen Bradley’s room before and for some reason, going to his room felt too. . . intimate. You weren’t ready for that step yet, so you let Bradley help you sit up so your back was resting against the back of the couch, and he could kneel in between your legs on the floor.

Bradley kissed you passionately, one of his hands tangling in your hair, while the other rested on your hip. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him as close as he could get with the couch in the way. His hand on your hip slowly crept its way towards the front of your yoga pants. You knew that he could probably feel how wet you were through the thin material, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You needed him. You needed him in a way you never needed a man before.

“You can stop me at any time,” Bradley murmured against your skin, as he pressed hot kisses to your neck, “Just pull my head back and I’ll stop.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” You asked and Bradley smirked.

“Then pull me in closer,” He whispered against your lips. A shiver ran down your spine as Bradley sat back on his heels, his fingers hooked into the top of your pants and pulled them down your legs. You knew that green was his favorite color, and you went out to buy a dark green pair of lace panties for the occasion, “Too good for me,” Bradley’s voice had an extra rasp to it, as his finger traced over the lace pattern covering your cunt, “All so cute and untouched. . . just for me.”

“Just for you. . .” He smirked as he could hear in your voice that you were holding back one small little word, but he’d let it go for now. You’d say it when you were comfortable enough to. And Bradley was dead set on getting you to say it.

Bradley leaned forward, so his head was resting between your parted thighs and placed a kiss on the wet spot on your panties. Having him so close to where you had dreamt about him being was like a headrush, and your hand went to his hair for support. Bradley chuckled as he placed another feather light kiss in the same spot, and nuzzled his nose against your cloth covered clit.

“Haven’t even gotten to the good part and you’re already gripping on for dear life,” He said and you felt your ears turn red, “It’s okay, sweet girl. I got you. I’m gonna take these off now, okay?”

“Okay, Bradley,” The sound of your voice was so innocent, and trusting. It filled Bradley with a sense of pride that you trusted him so much to be your first. He sore that it made him fall in love with you even more.

Ever so carefully he pulled the panties from your body, setting them gently next to your pants. He grabbed one of your ankles, placing a kiss on it before putting it over his shoulder. He leaned in closer to you again, grabbing your other leg and putting it on his shoulder. You looked up at the ceiling and gulped, then you felt his tongue on you. Your jaw dropped, a silent gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes fluttered shut, your hands in his hair. He licked a stripe from your opening to your clit, getting the taste of you on his tongue. He swirled his tongue around your opening several times, before finding your clit.

“Oh!” You moaned, as he sucked your clit into his mouth and then swirled his tongue around it. This felt better than you could’ve ever imagined it.

“Can I touch you?” Bradley asked, and you had to open your eyes and look down at him to focus on what he was talking about. Then you felt it, his finger gently rubbing against your folds, “It’s up to you. I can just use my-”

“Yes. . . Touch me,” You answered and Bradley nodded.

He briefly pulled his hands away from his core to stick his middle and ring fingers in his mouth to wet them, before he was placing his middle finger back on you.

“This might hurt, tell me if it’s too much,” You grabbed Bradley’s free hand and squeezed it, letting him know you understood.

His mouth was back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, and you felt the feeling of his finger sliding into you. His finger was much larger than yours, and you felt a slight stretch but then it went away and pleasure filled your body. Now you were moaning, not trying to hide the sounds you were making as Bradley ate you out. Between the movement in and out of your core to the way his tongue sucked and swirled around your clit, you were in total bliss. Bradley was right, this was the most euphoric feeling ever.

“Christ! Bradley, I. . . Oh my god!” Your back arched as you felt that familiar feeling in your belly. The one that would always make you stop immediately and lay panting on your bed. Your legs began to shake as your stomach contracted, “Bradley, I-”

“It’s okay,” Bradley said, and kissed your thigh, “Feels good, doesn’t it?” You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes from the beautiful feeling, “Then let it happen. Just let me make you feel good. Just close your eyes and let it happen.”

You nodded and your eyes fluttered shut as he put his tongue back on you. You screwed your eyes shut tightly, and Bradley grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. He looked up at you right as the dam broke; your back arched off the couch, your mouth wide open in a silent moan, your legs shaking, nipples hard. It was an absolutely beautiful sight. He believed that you were painted by angels. He kept fingering you and lapping at your cunt as you rode out your high, hearing as the breath entered your lungs again. You very weakly pushed his head away, and Bradley sat back on his heels, his mouth glistening with your cum.

“I. . . I never let that happen,” You were still seeing spots in your vision, but it slowly started to feel like you were coming back down to the planet earth, “I always stop when I start to feel that. . . uh-”

“Orgasm?” Bradley asked, his hand was rubbing your bare thigh and you nodded, “Poor girl, you’ve been edging yourself for weeks. No wonder you came so hard.”

“Edging?”

Bradley chuckled and shook his head. He leaned up and placed a kiss on your lips, “My sweet girl. . . I have so much to teach you.”

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow my library blog for notifications when I post:) @cortezslibrary

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copperbadge · 3 months

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More on mindfulness and meditation

I feel like perhaps I came across as anti-meditation in that last post I did on it, and there were some folks who were a bit vocal about not liking meditation in the notes, but the notes also had some great and interesting discussion of what can count as mindfulness that isn't traditional meditation and what some alternatives might be, so I wanted to do a follow-up. Especially since I don't think I'm going to get to respond to everyone individually.

The post was not meant to be anti-meditation, but to express frustration with the way meditation frequently is, or rather fails to be, taught. I can understand why people would struggle with "mindfulness" (vastly overused term) and meditation, so I'm not here to argue with or shame anyone, and I really appreciate the alternative suggestions. But because mindfulness can mean so many things, and people can meditate for many different reasons, I wanted to talk a little about why I'm being asked to do it.

It's easy to lose track of why one might try meditation for mental health, because the cause and effect are so temporally dislocated from each other. I try to keep in mind that my specific goal is emotional regulation deriving from increased present-moment attention. Some of the stuff that was suggested is great for a goal other than this, like puzzle games that allow people to empty their racing minds or activity that brings someone back into their body when dissociating -- both extremely laudable functions! -- but that's not why I'm here. Meditation is meant, for me, to be a maintenance medication, not a rescue inhaler.

There is science that suggest that mindfulness practice, under a specific definition of the term, can help to manage emotional dysregulation, ameliorate Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, and reduce depression and anxiety. I discuss the science in a slideshow here but essentially this specific form trains the attention into the present moment, which improves executive function -- and as we know, emotional regulation is a facet of executive function, so this leads to better emotional regulation.

There is not a lot of science on it yet so there is room here for yoursamplesizeissmall.jpg, but it's all we've got so I'm running with it. There is one foundational practice and three practices that build on it which effected this change in subjects of the study:

Breathing Meditation doesn't really confer any benefit the others don't, but the others all employ it as a basic practice. We know this can calm the parasympathetic nervous system, although to be honest I have not found that to be the case personally. As soon as I stop the deep breathing I'm right back where I was, likely because my issue is ruminational, not situational. But everything else wants you to breathe first, so I still have to do it.

Body Scan focuses attention on the body and as others have pointed out is good for people prone to dissociation. As I said in the other post, I live here; paying extra attention to my body isn't something I need. I was asked to try it anyway as part of a practice in keeping an open mind about stuff I think is dumb, and clearly I do need practice in that. Still, it's likely I'll be able to let this one go pretty soon.

Loving-Kindness asks you to think positively about others, expanding compassion from a single point outward to the world. I've encountered this before in reading Pema Chodron; I don't do it as meditation, but I do try to practice it in life because I am not naturally a patient or compassionate person, and that has been helpful in the sense that it keeps me from getting punched in the face a bunch. For me there's no real "train the attention to be in the present" aspect on account of that, however.

Observing-Thought is where you just sit with your thoughts, let them arise, sometimes label them in some way, and let them go. I was most interested in this purely because it's the only one I hadn't already encountered. I haven't found it useful so far, but I don't have enough data about it to be definitive, and if it is training executive function I would expect that to take time.

Now, I know that all four of these have science backing them, so I know that we're not just dealing in new-age woo here. The problem is functional, not theoretical. The issue overall is not "meditation is boring" -> "find a way to make it interesting", although I do appreciate that it may be an issue for others and I like that people were offering solutions. The issue for me is that the boredom derives from the fact that the meditation isn't being taught. There's no progressional learning -- there's no step-progress-reward-step-progress-reward like with most difficult skills.

Any task is boring if you aren't deriving any reward from it or you are being expected to execute it without skills or training, and in this case I'm facing down both. Long silences from a meditation leader are fine if you're there to engage with a practice you already have familiarity with, but if you're trying to learn, they are the opposite of helpful, and they are actively punishing to someone with ADHD.

I don't want to be entertained (I mean, generally I do, but in this case I don't expect it). What I want is a pedagogical approach that steps up to the practice rather than beginning with it, so that I know I'm doing it right, I experience rewards along the way similar to how I currently do learning Italian, and I have more confidence that what seems dull and fruitless actually will produce results.

Uh, so yeah thanks for coming to my TEDtalk; the fact that a practice that's especially hard for people with ADHD helps with almost every problem ADHD presents really sucks, and I wish we approached teaching meditation as if it were something you actually did have to learn rather than something you're supposed to Do Until You Get It. In the meantime I guess bumping the speed on the recording isn't the worst thing I could be doing.

#sam has adhd #not yet fired from therapy #mindfulness

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epiphyllous · 4 months

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when morning comes (Astarion/Reader) [1]

With your bleeding heart and altruistic bravery, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his best plan of action is to seduce you. All he has to do is not fall for you-- a feat easier said than done.

-or-

(Where were you ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he needed you? How dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

Word Count: ~10k Notes: Astarion/Reader, Paladin!Reader, AFAB, gender-neutral "you", a study in Astarion's romance route + added features, [switches to your POV], annoyance to lovers, fall first/fall harder, slight Lae'zel/Shadowheart, Wyll/Lae'zel, Halsin/Reader; may have some descriptors of my Tav but generally no specifics (let me have my brown eyes), NSFW contains Virgin!Reader, trauma related to Astarion's past [Part 2]

[Act I: Druid Groves]

From the start, you and Astarion chafed at each other's presence. Granted, he had threatened you at knife point, quick to suspect you were of the illithid colony, and you had responded in kind with a painful headbutt. But surprisingly enough, that had nearly no consequence to the relationship compared to the vastly different way the two of you engaged with the world.

"Do you always just... do things for other people for no reward?" Astarion asks you disdainfully when you promise Zevlor you would speak to Kagha. It's the third favor you've picked up in the last hour. "Seems very... inefficient."

"Yes?" You reply, confused as though he were the strange one. (In his humblest opinion, you're the lunatic who decides to help everyone who asks despite the arguably more pressing issue of their hostile parasite.) "I mean, helping them is going to help us in the long-run. We need information and supplies, and they have both of that."

A half-truth at best. Astarion has seen you soothe stray animals and children on the beaten road, help wayward allies, and offer up your amenities without hesitation. Helping others happens to align with your goal rather than the other way around. He feels his mouth twist in annoyance.

Astarion sniffs at your answer, and you give him the massive eye roll you habitually do every time the two of you argue. "Would it kill you to help them out a little?" You say, "It's not like it's completely out of our way to do it."

You make it sound so simple, he thinks bitterly. He glances at the sword at your hip and the shield on your back and wonders if you could ever understand how it feels to be powerless. It would explain your naivety, the way you cling onto doing the 'right' thing, your paladin vow to protect the weak no matter how foolhardy it may be.

(Where were you, he thinks, ten, fifty, hundreds of years ago when he was still surviving on the scraps of whatever Cazador decided to provide for him that night? Where were you when his cruel master carved into his skin, a painter on a screaming canvas? When he was buried underground, no longer alive but still living, until he clawed his way up with bloody hands, only to find out his body and soul belonged to another? When he was compelled by vampiric thrall to lead his first victim of thousands to their death?

And how dare you come now, the knight in shining armor for the less fortunate, when he has been waiting centuries for someone like you to save him? How dare you come to him now when he is like this?)

"It's a matter of principle, darling." Astarion simpers, "I, for one, am not the type to play hero."

He expects a sneer, the silent treatment-- those he knows easily how to respond to. The gauging look you give him, though, and a thin veneer of frustration just underneath before it dissipates gives him pause. "Well," you say mildly, "we can agree to disagree. You're coming along anyways so let's just get going, yeah?"

Astarion follows you then with no comeback in mind, only a question as to how far your patience can go.

It is with great hesitation and no small amount of begrudgement that Astarion admits he has never been one for planning. After all, why hope for a future that will never occur? What future does he have when every move he makes is in accordance to someone else's will, every decision made never his own?

When Astarion decided to travel with the unfortunate duo (now group) with similar illithid fates, he did not anticipate how difficult it would be to hide his affliction of a vampire. For the brief moment in the sun, he thought perhaps that because he was immune to daylight, his thirst for blood would have also disappeared. Imagine his surprise, nights after, when he finds himself starving and with no inconspicuous way to feed himself.

There is always someone on the lookout for goblins or other enemies alike. There have been few times he can sneak out without calling attention to himself, especially for such a long absence as hunting for prey would be. Astarion can feel himself grow weak over the course of a few days, and though he briefly thinks about telling you the truth about his identity, he is resistant.

Good heroes tend to hunt creatures of the night like him. Considering his blatant disregard for those you choose to protect, he isn't sure he will continue to be under your protection if he is outed. Astarion finds traveling as a pack to be too conveniently safe, but he is so, so hungry. In the midst of his hunger, anyone's blood will do, but it is yours that tempt him most: healthy, righteous, and pure-hearted. He has never been allowed to feed on a thinking creature, and at this point, he isn't sure if he should, considering the risks.

But Astarion is tempted by the smell of your blood shed during a particularly fierce battle, and as he feels his hands tremble, he concludes that he must find a way to feed tonight.

You always, without fail, set your tent up near the fire. It is where he finds himself creeping over your bedroll at the dead of night only to find that you have woken up to look up at him in shock. (He has never been one for planning.)

"...Shit," Astarion lets slip out, backing away. You stand at the ready, eyes boring into him as you come to the realization of what he is. "No, no- it's not what it looks like."

"...And what exactly is it supposed to look like then?" You ask tensely, and Astarion feels the situation quickly run away from him.

"I wasn't going to hurt you!” He puts his hands up and swallows. “I just needed, well, blood."

"You're the reason why that boar on the side of the road had no blood.” You realize, narrowing your eyes. "How many things have you hunted without us knowing?” You accuse, “People?"

"No!" Astarion exclaims, "No people. Never any people. I can sustain myself on animals, kobolds even-- but it is not enough. Not when we're fighting every day like this."

He sees a flicker of sympathy in your eyes and hope builds in his chest. "I feel so weak," he pleads. "If I just had a little bit of blood, I could think clearer. Fight better. Please."

You don't relax but you don't try to attack him either. Astarion considers that a winning chance. "Have you told anyone that you're a vampire?"

"They're more likely to ram a stake through my ribs than anything," Astarion mutters. "At best– even for you– you'd say no unless you trusted me." He looks up at you and sees the way your eyes look into him for the truth. "And you can trust me. I wouldn't want to harm anyone in this camp." And it is technically the truth, though Gale tests his patience sometimes. Even he cannot promise that he wouldn't betray everyone at the drop of the hat if the situation begs for it, but this is a completely different matter at the moment.

Your gaze is unfaltering, the silence palpable as the two of you look at each other. Astarion feels his palms sweat as he awaits your judgment and for the proverbial hammer to possibly fall on his head.

"Okay," you say instead. "Alright. I trust you. As long as you don't try biting me again without permission, it's fine. Can you promise me that at least?"

"Really?" Astarion knows this is what he could ever hope for, but a part of him is baffled that you would ever think to trust him. He supposes your foolhardy compassion has its benefits-- though he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit there was a part of him that was rather... flattered by your trust. "Yes- yes, of course. Thank you."

He presses his lips in thought. If you were so willing to put your faith in him, then perhaps it would not hurt to ask. "If I could ask you to trust me just a little further..." He says, "I just need a little blood. I won't take anything more than I need. Please."

Astarion can see the hesitation in your eyes when he asks. Are you weighing your trust in him, he wonders. Or are you worried about your safety, the benefits versus the risks? It would make sense-- you really shouldn't. But a moment before you respond, he somehow knows that you would.

[He looks so tired, you think, heart clenching with sympathy. You wonder how you've missed it for this long or if he's that good at pretending otherwise in the presence of others. It could be both-- Astarion has shown to be a great performer, and you are one of his best audiences. You find it difficult to argue against letting him bite you; the anticipated pain, the possible negative effect, the case that his hunger is too much for you to quench all pales in comparison to what good you would do for him.

You are halfway to being smitten already, and you cannot deny yourself this.

But you are not naive. You are not fearless. For whatever trust you give to Astarion, you are afraid of the fact that if he betrays you in this, you can never go back to how it was before.]

"Promise me you'll stop if I tell you to," you tell him quietly.

He acquiesces quickly. Of course, he will, he promises, only just enough. You lay back down at his suggestion, body tense in anticipation. He does not let that feeling linger too long, seizing his chance before you decide to change your mind. He buffets your body with his arms before he sinks his teeth into your outstretched neck.

You taste better than he could possibly have imagined.

To think he fed solely on mice before-- bog water in comparison to the sweet red of your blood, invigorating and undeniably delicious. Astarion gets another mouthful and groans, feeling strength return, warmth pooling into his belly. If bears and boars were the main course, then you are the mouth-salivating dessert– irresistibly delectable and leaving him wanting for more.

Your body trembles underneath him, your hand clenched into his shirt as a counterweight to the pain. Your pulse bounds underneath his tongue, the small gasps you cannot suppress resounds into his ears. This, too, puts feeding in a different plane than before, an extra level of appeal that can only be experienced with thinking creatures. Perhaps it is you in particular that adds another layer to the pleasure. Having you at his mercy, taking what you so graciously offered with ravenous hunger: power courses through him for more reasons than one.

[Your heart beats as fast as a rabbit's, fear and adrenaline powering you in the same manner. Or, if you were being honest, anticipation and a little bit of excitement fuels it as well as Astarion climbs on top of you, hunger in his eyes.

It is a more literal type of hunger, but it is an intense look either way that leaves you frozen like a deer in headlights.

The bite itself is more shocking than it is painful. You barely muffle your exclamation, unused to the feeling of someone so intimately close combined with the instinctive fear that accompanies the loss of blood. You hold onto Astarion without thought, and you squeeze your eyes and bite your lips as he takes your blood in with every suck.

As scared as you may be, you are undeniably aroused from the feeling of it all-- the numbness that gently overtakes your mind, the light, floaty feeling of pleasure of the bloodloss combined with the intimacy of someone you’ve always been attracted to. The knowledge that he is gorging himself on you, taking pleasure from you, makes your blood run hotter than it has any right to in this situation.

And then, you feel a switch flip, and the lightness becomes disorienting, and the numbness bleeds into coldness. Panic starts climbing up your throat. You let yourself think for the briefest moment if Astarion will let go on his own, but you know you will not last long enough to wait. Worry gnaws at you at this thought, and you can only hope that Astarion is true to his word when you tell him to stop.

And he does. Perhaps it is the feeling that you have placed your trust in the right person that has felt the best out of everything that has happened tonight.]

"Astarion-" he hears you grit out, "that's enough."

“Hm? Oh, yes, of course.” It takes but a moment for Astarion to register it before removing his fangs from your neck. He sees blood trickle from the punctures and he bemoans the waste as he pulls away. Next time– if there is a next time– he'll be neater, he thinks. He watches as you breathe just as hard as him, eyes slightly glazed over, and he barely resists the urge to lick his lips.

He stands from you to give you space, and you slowly sit up, looking at him with an emotion he can't quite place. It concerns him little at the moment with the strongest blood he's ever consumed in two millennia coursing through him.

“That was…” Astarion begins, breathless with adrenaline, “Amazing.” He delicately wipes the blood from the side of his mouth, an irrepressible smile on his face.

“Hope that helped,” you say, and he almost laughs at the understatement of two centuries.

“It very much did.” Astarion breathes in deeply. “My mind is finally clear. I feel… strong,” he nearly purrs. Happy.”

“Looking forward to seeing you fight then,” you say, hand at your neck as the punctures gradually close. You sigh, wiping your bloody hands onto the patch of grass. “Going out to hunt?” You ask like any other day.

“I am, darling.” He stands tall, head held high with a confidence he has not felt in ages. To think this is what he's been missing out on… “You're invigorating, but I'll need to get something more… filling,” he tells you, glancing back.

You give him a flippant wave of the hand, and he isn't sure if you are too tired to be wary of him or uncaring of the risk considering what you allowed him to do. “Good hunting,” you say genuinely before yawning.

“I will. And-” You turn to him then, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion but still alert. Astarion pauses for a moment. “This is a gift, you know,” he says. “I won't forget it.”

He walks off into the forest after and finds easy prey to feast on. It's a shame it does not taste as good as you did, but he will make do and ride out the feeling of power for as long as he can. It is when he returns to camp with you fast asleep by the fire that Astarion realizes the emotion on your face was relief: relief that he had stopped when you had asked, and that he kept to his word.

What a fragile thing trust is, to be put to the breaking point at a single moment in time. What if he had continued to consume and drink you dry? He suspects it would have rather dire consequences to your mortality and even worse effects to his relationship with you. It would be unsalvageable, he realizes, if he had not stopped when you had asked. For some things may be forgiven, but this would be reprehensible.

Astarion finds that he understands you too well for his liking. How many times has he not been able to give consent? Wanted to say 'no' but forced to say yes? (Not knowing now how to say 'no' at all?)

For the sake of his own livelihood (the camp would kill him for your death), his budding relations with you, and a part of him that yearns for what he should have had, Astarion is glad that he was not greedy tonight-- and, as the day comes, for the following nights to come.

The pitchforks and torches do not come the next morning. Maybe it is because everyone else has their equally dangerous secret to hide or because of your influence on the camp. You are more concerned at how you would help him feed than afraid that he will hurt anyone.

"Why, isn't it my favorite traveling companion," he says to you when you approach him.

"You mean tastiest,” you say back, and he knows you are truly well and beyond hard feelings if you can joke about it.

"Well, I suppose that as well.” He tells you, “Though you have been the only one I've bitten so there is no competition, really."

And to his surprise, telling you about Cazador, his ill-begot fate as a vampire spawn and its subsequent diet, is easier than he would have expected. You listen with a sympathetic but otherwise neutral ear that makes it easy for him– and he suspects everyone else– to confess their circumstances to you. He's rather surprised he's been able to “resist” for this long. Even Gale has confessed he has a literal living bomb inside him in the little time they've all spent together as a group.

(It goes to show how much everyone has grown to trust you; even Astarion is starting to see what everyone else sees in you.)

“I don't mind you taking my blood once in a while,” you instruct him, “but you can't just do it to an innocent person.”

“And how about a guilty person?” Astarion asks slyly, gleefully watching as you saddle next to him with a similar smile.

“Free real estate, I suppose,” you say nonchalantly. “Just ask before you bite me?”

“No more late night surprises, you have my word on that.” He smiles, fangs bared, and you don't even blink at the sight of them.

In the druid grove, you pick up a few more favors from the locals, though at least you have begun to ask for aid for the road. Not exactly payment, though you are offered a reward anyways. Astarion thinks you are either very lucky people are desperate for help or very charming in that innocent, eager to do good type of way that compels people to be generous. It is not unlike Wyll, who joins your group of illithid-afflicted companions, as the Blade of Frontiers.

Naturally, the two of you get along as like-minded individuals. Gale, too, gravitates toward you for your compassion, and Shadowheart trusts you for perhaps the same reasons. Even Lae'zel, who you often have problems speaking to without feeling intimidated, has come to begrudgingly accept you as the de facto leader of the group. You are, as Astarion suspected, strong in battle as you are in personality.

He often forgets both, but he cannot be blamed. After he witnesses you stand up to Lae'zel for the sake of an intimidated tiefling, he sees you lose an argument against a squirrel. Astarion sees you send goblins off rooftops and speak to trolls with confidence, and then he watches as you ask him to unlock a barn door with raunchy sex noises simply out of morbid curiosity.

It is in these moments-- apart from your heroism and startling sense of morality-- that you and Astarion are often on the same page. As long as it is not from the needy, you don't find it a problem to loot. (He thinks practicality plays a role in disturbing dead bodies for money and items, and your vow says nothing against it.) If it's for the sake of peace, you don't mind spinning half-truths and lies. (The lies he personally thinks you need to work on more but he is a master of deception so perhaps there is no comparison with him.)

Your curiosity knows no bounds, and it is in this, both you and Astarion take cheerful glee in raking chaos.

"I don't know what I expected!" You say almost cheerily after the group defeats the unlikely couple of bugbear and ogre after purposely interrupting their very loud lovemaking.

Shadowheart gives you a raised eyebrow that has you sheepishly grin at her, and Astarion lets out a laugh. "Well, I certainly had a guess, but finding out was very interesting indeed."

"Interesting... is certainly a way to describe the scene we just witnessed," Gale says dryly. Astarion catches your eyes before you smile slyly.

Innocently, you comment, "I wonder how the mechanics worked with the height difference-"

Gleefully, Astarion is quick to join in, watching Gale balk at the topic, “Well, with the way she was on her knees-”

"Some things need not be pondered!"

That is when Astarion realizes that as long as the world stops begging for your help, the two of you get along quite well. If anything, Astarion finds your presence and comments most amusing out of everyone in camp. Gale is exceedingly verbose and other times awkward. Lae'zel Astarion isn't sure knows the meaning of joking, though her violent tendencies are right up his alley. Shadowheart-- as it turns out and makes total sense-- is a worshiper of Shar and therefore an automatic stick in the mud.

Wyll waxes far too much about justice, and Karlach, when they find her and proceed to not kill her despite Wyll's initial request, is the next best thing though he is still wary of how hot she burns. You, however, have the humor and wit to match every ridiculous situation they encounter, and if anything, Astarion must give you that. God knows how he'd survive the boredom of camp and not being arms deep in gore without having someone to gossip with.

The two of you agree the most when it comes to other topics, like Mystra's treatment of Gale, how good Wyll looks with horns, feelings about Gods. It makes for great and easy conversations though the two of you are also quick to snark if there is a disagreement. Astarion admits his words were sharp in the beginning (and you gave it right back until you just mellowed out) but he eventually relaxed when his role in camp solidified after his vampiric reveal.

And what a gift your blood was; Astarion counts his lucky stars that you continue to offer your neck to him as long as it is only yours he bites-- with permission, of course.

He was almost beginning to relax when a gur comes, asking for him.

Luckily enough, it seems this Gandrel has no idea what he looks like, so the two of you can play innocent together. You and Astarion give each other a discrete look before you go back to talking to the monster hunter. It must be Cazador, he seethes. Who else would put a Gur on his tracks acres away from Baldur's Gate?

"And what did you want to do with this vampire spawn?" You ask innocuously.

"I would like to capture him."

"Capture? Not kill? Does someone want him alive?" You question, and Astarion must give you this: you are an excellent conversationalist, to seek more without giving much at all. Your eyes widen in what can be assumed as surprise, though they remain calculating. "You said so yourself: even vampire spawn are dangerous. Why would you accept a job to capture him?"

The gur shuffles his feet for a moment, chewing on his words. Astarion watches in secretive awe as you urge the hunter to trust you with unbidden information. "Well... It's not a request from an outside source..." He trails off, "We... have questions we were hoping he would answer."

Now that's curious, Astarion thinks. What would a monster hunter need for a spawn besides its demise? He knows you have the same question when he glances over at you as you watch on thoughtfully.

"Were you hoping to capture it to get to the vampire lord or something?" You ask, "Is that something that would even work?"

"We have little leads besides this vampire spawn, if I can be frank." He sighs and Astarion watches as he unravels the truth before you. "It's our children, you see. They've been captured.”

You are ever sympathetic to the Gur's plight--genuinely so. You hold no qualms keeping Astarion's name from your mouth but you speak to the Gur and provide him with advice and information you have received from Astarion. What a cheeky pup you are, playing double agent without batting an eye. Astarion feels like forgiving you for taking away the opportunity to get rid of the monster hunter once and for all just for the show of your wit and guile.

Though Astarion thinks you could afford to be more ambitious. If you could have perhaps a little creativity in deciding what you want to do with the little tadpole in your brain or the absolutist cult, Astarion is sure the two of you would get along more.

"I don't know how the tadpole will change me," you admit with unexpected vulnerability. "I don't want to give them more power over me, and I don't know if feeding them will let them."

"Well..." Astarion pauses, scoffing at your response before he can accept the fact the two of you have more in common that he would rather believe. He'd rather not lose what he barely got back as well, he thinks. "I suppose there is reason to hesitate so maybe I'll wait until some other brave soul decides to give it a go." He gives you a look before continuing, "Try not to convince the others too much. I'm not too eager to be the first and only one to eat a tadpole."

You shrug noncommittally, promising nothing. Astarion barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. Paladins.

Considering the dire straits in which you are bound and the rocky start the two of you had, Astarion would not have imagined the relationship with you to progress in this manner. Having you trust him was already beyond what was expected, especially after revealing his vampiric origins. Giving him your blood was a gift that he could hardly believe happened. One can imagine his surprise when he finds out you are charmed by his wits, finding genuine joy in his wry commentary.

For god knows why, you have grown fond of him-- he can see it in the way you provide him with the best equipment, the way you seek his presence. The way you laugh freely around him and turn your back to him during battle, believing he will defend it. Though arriving at this point was coincidental, it is almost too easy for Astarion to come to the conclusion that his next step is to seduce you.

Astarion sees your laughter, but he also sees the way you throw him glances when you think the others aren't looking. You instinctively lean closer to him when he is near and when he speaks, your eyes are quick to find him. You are attracted to him– and he means to capitalize on it and make you feel as though you would rather die than have him get hurt.

It's a simple plan, really. The seduction comes easy; all he needs to do is stay unattached, so if things go wrong, he'll find someone else to take cover under.

(The plan should be simple-- he has learned tactics that would put any to their knees, tricked hundreds of people of his affections. But something about doing this to you-- this performance-- makes him uneasy.

It's a shame, he finds himself thinking. He thinks he was beginning to like you too.

The thought lingers only for a moment. He is quick to push it from his mind; that too is a learned habit.)

Astarion finds his opportunity after the goblin camp has been slain and the tieflings throw a celebration in thanks.

The wine is mediocre at best, but there is much of it to be shared, so the party is still in full blast when the moon is overhead. He finds himself a secluded part of camp to sip at the sorry excuse of a liquor, discomfited by the praise they give him for participating in the fight against the goblins.

You are unused to the praise as well, humble as you are, but you are nearly glowing from the joy you feel as you make merry with those you have befriended. The rest of the party, even companions who were ambivalent at best at the idea of helping the tiefling immigrants, are satisfied with the outcome despite the lack of progress with removing the tadpole. He would say otherwise– the trade of goblin lives for tieflings hardly makes a difference, and surely the goblins would throw a wilder party than this. He says as much to you when, faithfully, you find your way to him to talk.

“All I want,” he tells you, “is a little bit of fun. Is that so much to ask?”

You snort into your drink. “Knowing you, it could be.”

“Don't be so sour,” he croons. “I like a good time as much as anyone.” His eyes fall half-lidded as he looks at you. You raise your brow at him, noticing the change in tone as he continues. "You know, we could always make our own entertainment."

The look you give him is partly apprehensive and the other amused. He knows that glimmer of recognition of what he is asking, though you are quick to hide it for plausible deniability. "...What do you mean by that?"

Astarion, with practiced ease, leans in, watching as you instinctively do the same before he purrs out, "Why, sex, of course. Experiencing a little death, figuratively speaking, is quite fun, wouldn't you agree?"

Your face is already flushed from the alcohol, but your cheeks on high brighten in the dimly lit torches at his tent. It's evident you didn't expect him to suggest something like that, especially to you, though you are not completely unwilling if the lack of immediate denial is of any indication.

You are rendered speechless though; a first for you considering how quick you often are at retorting back at his comments. It makes Astarion think of two conclusions: you are either inexperienced or incredibly shocked at his offer. Both are familiar, though the thought of your naivety extending into sexual relations does, at the very least, give him pause.

It is not as if he has never been someone's first. Virgins are often most eager to lose or prove themselves in someone so willing to offer bliss. If you are one, well– the shy ones are always the ones that are easier to fell.

He prepares himself to drop a few one-liners to convince you to take the offer, but you glance away for a moment before you turn toward him, face unreadable.

"If you're down," you say. You smile. "I don't mind."

"Until later then," Astarion replies easily. "Wouldn't want the others to interrupt, unless you're interested in that."

At this, you laugh, and he relaxes. "Definitely not. Though, I'm curious." You ask, "Am I your first choice, or am I just the first to say 'yes'?"

Astarion finds the best lies are in truths. "Lae'zel was quite eager to find a partner earlier. Luckily she and Wyll are in quite the agreement for tonight as far as I can hear and I have no desire to get in between whatever the githyanki has in store." He smiles slyly at you. "Besides, I couldn't help but overhear you flirting with our druid earlier so I at least knew you were in the, ah, mood. Never imagined you'd be quite so bold."

"It's the alcohol," you mutter, rubbing your cheek. You take the wine from his hand and take another swig. "Also, I didn't realize he'd be coming with us so that was a surprise. Almost as much of a surprise as you asking me." You glance at him briefly. "Well, sort of."

Astarion feels a familiar prickle of suspicion as he stares at you, already unamused at whatever dirty truths you have prepared for him. "What is it now?"

You quip a half smile, eyes bright under the torch fire. (Your eyes are brown.) "Nothing," you say teasingly. "Guess you do like me a little bit."

Astarion watches as you walk away, feeling less victorious than he imagined himself to be.

The flirting, the seduction, the fight for survival is familiar. The banter, the bickering, the camaraderie between the two of you is beginning to be just as familiar. Astarion feels just the slightest bit unease at how true your words are.

Astarion has much to prepare for the night, so it is lucky that you take center stage of the party, as the savior of the grove. You take part in the merriment and make conversations, taking genuine interest in the stories others tell. The tieflings keep you busy for the most part, but Astarion is nothing if not good at building anticipation, putting as much heat into his gaze as possible when you do have time to take a glance at him.

You are quick to focus your attention elsewhere after giving him a look, but the smile on your face that stays means that at least he is always on your mind. In some ways, he has missed this... coyness, the thrill of the chase. The results of his previous endeavors never fail to unease him, but with you, it is different. The familiarity of seduction comes with a little bit more fun knowing you are not going to be his victim- not like it usually is.

"Hey, still not joining in on the fun?" You suddenly ask him, your hand gently prying at his arm so you can hook onto him. You have gotten more drunk in the time you were away, the warmth of your skin seeping into him from where you've attached yourself. Your face is almost comically red if not for the carefree smile on your face and the affection that betrays on your face when you look at him.

Something in his chest warms at the sight of you.

"Unfortunately, the tieflings' company has not become any more appealing since you've been gone. Besides," Astarion says slyly, "the only thing I've been thinking of is how you'll taste later when we're alone."

You let out a huff, turning your head away with a half-embarrassed and pleased smile. "Laying it on a little thick, aren't you?"

"Not at all," he replies easily. "It's the truth, after all."

You look at him as though you don't believe a word, but you are charmed by them anyway if your expression is of any indication. As conscientious as you normally are, the alcohol and the fact you are delving into his territory of seduction puts you at a disadvantage. Even if you are the one that knows him best in the camp, you are not attuned to every secret. Half-truths and lies come easier than anything else, if only because it allows him to keep his distance.

When the camp is cleared and you linger to bid the others farewell, Astarion slips away to the lake to prepare. It is almost ritualistic the way he cleans himself, the cold waters readying himself for what comes next. He thinks of what lines to tell you, how he should appear to you to best whet your appetite. Are you chaste or are you more animalistic? Would you prefer to take a dominant or submissive role? Astarion cannot tell these things about you based on his interactions with you, so he can only rely on his flexibility and years of experience to get him through it.

(For a brief moment, he wonders if this is something he must do. What if you would protect him regardless of how this night goes? You are compassionate, sympathetic to the plight of others-- goodness flows within your veins like the light that beacons from your holy sword. Could that light not shield him too, without his body as an offering?

But gods are rarely so magnanimous, no matter the sacrifices. Astarion will not take his chances even with you.

Even then-- even then, he wants this night to be at least a little enjoyable. It is with you, after all. If there is someone who can allow him to feel safe, it is you.)

Moonlight beams above, and Astarion hears your quiet footsteps come closer. His expression masks into something more suitable for seduction and he steps from the shadows of the trees to greet you.

Upon seeing him, you yelp in surprise and- god, can you blame him?- he jumps as well.

"What in God's name-"

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't expect to see you half naked all of a sudden!" You stammer, "I mean, not all of a sudden, I guess. Your... state of undress didn't cross my mind as something I'd see right away."

It is reckless when his mark is so close to fruition, but he finds himself dropping the act, hand at his hips in an instinctual indignant huff you seem to invoke from him easily. "Darling, what did you expect after the invitation I gave?" Your sheepish grin is your only answer, and Astarion feels a quick flash of annoyance at how easily you are able to derail his thoughts.

Quick to redirect the conversation though, Astarion angles his body sensually, lowering his voice in the manner he knows can send shivers down his victims. "Perhaps you'd prefer if you could strip me down yourself?"

Like clockwork, your cheeks flush pink even as you roll your eyes in attempts to salvage your embarrassment. "Only you'd be able to pull those lines out of nowhere," you mutter, and Astarion allows himself the satisfaction when you approach him, eyes looking down at him appreciatively.

Only a small gap lies between the two of you now, your dark eyes meeting his. You are waiting on him; Astarion does not hesitate.

He takes your face into his hands and brings his lips to yours. Your eyes close almost immediately to the touch as you give into him, face tilting up to align with him and mouth parted to allow him in. Though Astarion knows not how you incline to be normally, he knows that this night, he's the one in control.

Your hands curl into the front of his chest as though you do not know where to touch, so he helps you along and pulls you in until there is nothing separating you. Astarion can see the way your eyes widen when you can feel his arousal beneath his trousers, and recognizes your interest with the way your pupils darken your eyes.

There is a slight satisfaction in seeing you this way. As stubborn as you are, you are malleable in his touch, opening up to his hands like a flower in bloom. He lifts you up against the tree, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist in response, and your little giggle morphs into a gasp of pleasure when he grinds into you fully.

It is probably instinctual the way you arch your back and bare your neck to him. It isn't in him to resist the temptation to bury his nose into the crook, nipping at the sensitive skin between your collar bone. And this is when he feels your hands, that were curled into his hair, push him back slightly, and his stomach drops.

He should be worried that he made a mistake and think about how to put you back on track with him. His safety depends on his success, after all. Despite himself, Astarion feels more hurt at your rejection, your mistrust, than anything. (Since when did that ever matter to him?)

"I wasn't going to bite, you know," he says, hoping nothing in his voice gives anything away.

"No, that's not it," you tell him, and your hand is quick to cup his face reassuringly. He finds himself soothed by your gesture though he wishes he was not in need of it in the first place. "I trust you not to without my say. I mean, you probably could tonight if you wanted..." You trail off. "I just wanted to let you know something before we go any further."

The offer for blood pleases him more than it should, as does the affirmation of your trust. "Whatever you want to say, darling, I doubt it'll deter me from having my way with you tonight," Astarion says, eyes half-lidded and staying strong despite the undignified huff you give him.

"Well, alright," you say as you try to save face. You brush over his collarbone with your thumb as you think. You're nervous, he realizes, over whatever you have to say, and he can't begin to guess what you could possibly reveal that would be of such import to leave you in such a state. "I... have never-- this is my first time. Having sex," you say, and Astarion does his utmost not to show any semblance of surprise.

"I hope," you continue, "that's okay? You'll probably have to show me a lot of things but, you know..."

You are a virgin after all. Astarion had some thoughts on the matter but he never truly took stock in it considering how rare it is to save yourself for this long. You were modest but far from prude, and you had thoughts of debauchery like any other in the camp. But you are of untouched flesh. Inexperienced. And yet you accepted him to be your first?

You are not so unique that he has never bedded someone like you, but it does tweak his heart in a way it has not for a long while that you are giving yourself to him as a result of his seduction. You feel self conscious about this inexperience, and it would be easy to take advantage of that for his benefit. Typical, even.

The thought does not sit well with him.

"I know you wanted a fun night," you tell him, eyes downcast when he does not respond. "So I get it if you're not interested anymore since I'm probably going to be a lot of work-"

"And what’s to say we cannot have fun while discovering something new?" Astarion interrupts in a momentary panic. He's not on autopilot but he's not stopping the night from happening despite your deference- so what is he doing? "Darling, I'm rather concerned you want to spend your first night with a vampire-" He needs to get back on script.

He recites the words in his mind. Isn't this what you want? To lose yourself in me? And all he has to do is say it-

"No, that's not-" You talk back, frowning. "You being a vampire has nothing to do with it. When you asked, I said yes because I trust you, vampire or not."

To have and to hold, he thinks, and wonders how you have survived for so long being so willfully trusting when at times you should not. "Then trust me, darling," he says, heat building in his chest. He lifts you up again and growls. "Let's have some fun. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"If that's what you want," you breathe out, and Astarion claims your mouth with his own.

You let out a sigh when he begins to undress you, his dexterous hands easily removing every lace and button to leave you bare. You giggle into his kiss, and Astarion lets himself smile, being pulled along as you roll on top of him playfully, mischief in your eyes. You full on laugh when he rolls you back over, uncaring of the outdoors, bearing your neck for him to bite.

Astarion doesn't remember the last time he's had fun doing this. And it is fun- always has been with you, he realizes, a type of levity that he has not experienced with anyone else. He takes leisure in biting you, sucking a mouthful of blood that has him moaning into your neck as he rolls his hips into you. Your hand gently cards through his hair as he bites, and true to his word (only taking just enough), he pulls back with blood on his lips before swooping down to share in his bounty.

He cannot help but laugh when you stick out your tongue at him, nose wrinkling at the metallic taste of blood that is otherwise sweet to him. He pulls his remaining clothes off and smirks when he sees you follow the line of sight down to his hardened cock in compulsive curiosity.

"Like what you see, darling?"

You make a noncommittal hum as you sit up, quick as you are unbothered by your nakedness. "Can I?" You ask, gesturing toward him, and he would find it amusing for you to ask if not for how eagerly you grasp his member at his nod.

Astarion hisses in pleasure as you pump his cock, getting into an easy rhythm with your thumb sliding deliciously on the tip of it. He watches as you gather spit to smoothen the pace, hand delicately pushing your hair from your face, and feel arousal melt into his belly like molten lava.

"Why, it seems you have a little bit of experience in this matter, or are you just talented?" He asks and earns himself a coy look.

"Just twice," you say, twisting your hand in a way that has him rolling his hips. "Hold my hair, will you?"

Astarion is quick to follow your orders-- almost instinctively-- and before he has a moment to ponder on that, he is throwing his head back when your mouth swallows his cock in wetness and heat.

Most of his so-called lovers were more eager to be pleased than please; it makes sense that you would be different with the way you are. Your eagerness is quite adorable, as is your earnestness to provide him pleasure. Astarion revels in it, ecstasy climbing up like a tidal wave.

"That's enough, dear," Astarion purrs. He sees you look at him with a protest on your lips, and he continues, "I'd much rather continue this while I'm inside you."

Based on your expression, you are more than thrilled at the aspect.

Astarion guides you to lay down as he climbs over, hands carving a path over your curves and into your heat. He is careful to not scrape his fangs over your bosom, though he suspects you would not mind it in the least with how roughly he plays with your nipples to elicit a moan. You are dripping by the time he is done preparing you.

It does not take much resistance to enter you fully. You let out a short cry, reaching out to him instinctively for comfort as your body adapts to him. True to your words, you are tight beyond measure, squeezing his cock as though you are determined to milk him for what he's worth. You pant into his ears, hands grasping over his shoulders as you ease into the feeling of him.

The moment you nod, Astarion begins to move steadily. It is easy for the both of you to lose yourself in the pleasure, and it is these moments that he feels himself drift away, and the feeling of dread settles in.

Any type of intimacy takes him acres away, the gasps and moans that was music to his ears fading into numbness. He hardly knows what he's doing, except to know that he's doing well enough, hands playing at your clit as he moves at a persistent rhythm.

Astarion wishes it were different. Sex is fun, especially with you, if only it didn't make him feel as though he were fighting for his life. Every stroke calculated, every climax comes with a price. You are not to be taken back to Cazador, but it still feels like he's going to.

You tighten around him, and he knows you are about to come just as he is. He lets out a grunt and persists through a rapid pace before feeling your body jolt in pleasure. He soon follows after, head upon your shoulder as he shudders into his climax.

The night is still young; why don't we go back to my place for more?

Won't you come home with me? We need so much more time to get to know each other.

His next lines come too easily for him that it makes him sick.

A hand pulls at his cheek rather cheekily and Astarion finds himself coming back from the haze. He lifts his head to look at you, face relaxed from pleasure but still otherwise amused.

Is it ridiculous to think that the sight of you makes him feel safe?

"That," you begin, "was crazy. Sex is like that, huh?"

"Be welcomed to the land of the living, darling," Astarion says. "I fear you have been missing out on one of the finer parts of life."

"Well, it's not like I've never orgasmed before," you tell him, "but I guess it is pretty different with someone else." You sigh when Astarion removes himself from you. "Thank you for being so patient with me."

"No need to mention it, darling," he says, finding it easy to relax with the banter, "though I dare say it did not take very long for you to be prepared. Why, I'd even call that a record for getting as wet as you did-"

"Hey!" He avoids your playful slap with ease as you pout at him. "I... I have no comeback to that, except maybe you're welcome."

"I'm welcome? I should be the one saying that to you. I'm rather magical in bed, don't you think?"

"I don't know if your neck could support a head that big if I agree with you." You laugh, flipping your hair away again. For a moment, Astarion has the urge to take it upon himself to brush the stray strands from your face, but he does not. "By the way," you continue, "are you okay?"

Astarion blinks. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, you just seemed a little..." You stop before shaking your head. "No, never mind. You seemed a little far away but what would I know."

His heart lurches. "I had to make sure I didn't lose control," he says carefully. He clears his throat and goes for levity. "Who knows if your fragile, virgin body can handle it?"

Astarion is grateful you take the line for how it is, quick to come up with a haughty retort, the banter easy to fall back to. You are adamant on being sturdy enough and not one to waste a chance, he proposes a long night of lovemaking-- if only to cinch the deal with you. After all, he thinks as your legs close around his head, this is all part of his plan: seduce you and win your protection. Nothing more, nothing less.

He tries not to think how sex for once, as he nips playfully at your thigh, has been enjoyable.

The sun wakes him up before anything else. It is unfamiliar to him, even at least a month beyond the time when his deathly aversion to sunlight has disappeared. The warmth of the morning rays, the light that dawn brings-- Astarion did not realize how much he had missed it until he had felt it again.

He almost isn't sure if he can ever go back to never feeling it again.

He stands to bask in it fully, glancing over to his side to watch your sleeping figure for a moment. You are curled up in your own clothes-- and his shirt as well, he remembers, having a little play fight over it before you eventually let exhaustion take you. The ache in his body from last night is familiar at least, and he stares at you, waiting for the dread to come-- but it does not.

How curious. Only good for his plans if everything is more palatable, of course, but it is... unexpected for him to feel so at ease. He decides not to question it, using this moment of strangely acquired peace to face the sun in its entirety.

Your voice filters in after many minutes, a little scratchy from slumber. "You awake already?"

"It isn't exactly the break of dawn, dear," Astarion replies, and he shoots a glance back expecting your usual deadpan, but you are rubbing your eyes sleepily instead. A thought comes to mind that he has never seen you in your first waking moments: you are rather unguarded, movements leisurely and expression soft still. It's quite... cute. "I'm rather surprised you're awake. I thought you'd be exhausted from last night."

You let out a titter behind your hand at this. "Yeah, well, everything aches in different ways than a fight, so it's not too bad." You yawn. "Still sleepy though," you mumble, looking up at him through the gaps between your fingers as you block the sun from your eyes.

"Say," you begin, and Astarion realizes belatedly that the reason you were looking so intently at him was because you saw his back. "Can I ask about those markings on your back? Are they scars?"

"A poem from my old master," he replies facetiously. "Or so I assume. He carved it all into my back in one night." His lips purse. "He made a lot of revisions."

"I'm sorry," he hears you say with sympathy in your voice, and he knows he must quickly move on from this topic.

"It's fine," he says abruptly. "It doesn't matter now. I'm free and far from Baldur's Gate. And he'll never control me ever again."

"Good," you say, and he wonders if putting warmth into your words comes naturally to you.

"Yes, it is." He pauses. "May I have my shirt back? Not that I mind being half nude, by the way- if only to let everyone know exactly what went on last night."

"Don't even joke," you sputter, tossing his shirt- miraculously clean- to him. "I don't kiss and tell! And they'll definitely know, but not the details!”

In the morning glow, nothing much has changed. As predicted, the entire camp is in-the-know of whomever slept with who. Astarion is quick to inquire Lae'zel about her tryst with Wyll, only to find, to the mutual disappointment, that he spent most of the time talking about his feelings. Shadowheart, on the other hand, was more than happy to share her wine last night.

"Shadowheart mates like she fights," Lae'zel says. "Precisely and aggressively."

"Which is a good thing, I assume."

"Immensely." Lae'zel pauses then in breaking down her tent to look at him intently, which, for the githyanki, is as terrifying as anything. "I see you and our paladin decided to explore each other's bodies last night."

"Why, yes, thank you for noticing. It was quite the exploration," he responds, opening his mouth to elaborate.

"I suppose even you have your charms," she tells him instead, and the conversation ends there.

(Astarion hopes to glean more conversation elsewhere to no luck. Your talk with Shadowheart this morning is brief ("Lae'zel, huh."/"Astarion."/"Yep."), and Karlach's put-out expression is enough to give sympathy and a wide berth. Astarion sees Gale gazing upon the visage of his goddess again and turns the other way.)

The camp dynamic stays strangely the same. It is to Astarion's benefit, for he was comfortable with how the way things were, though he is more generous with the pet names for you. Halsin joins the fray, and they make their way to the mountains upon Lae'zel's insistence.

In the midst of adventure, Astarion finds that you seek his presence more often. His night invitation seemed to open an avenue up for you to be more comfortable in doing so. Astarion finds he doesn't mind it; your camaraderie is most enjoyable in the too quiet camp and as far as "seducing" goes, you are doing half the work for him.

Your gaze holds some heat for him once in a while when the moon is high and the fire burns low, but you have not asked him for another night. He is neither pleased nor displeased at the notion, because your affections for him are as clear as day. He knows you would say yes in a heartbeat if he did propose another night together, but he rather likes the late-night conversations he often has with you, a type of intimacy that borders on his comfort zone-- exciting and enjoyable without the unnecessary reminders of his past.

Still, he sometimes finds himself recalling his night with you fondly. It's strange: he's gotten on his back ten thousand times or more and forgotten half of them, but his time with you, he knows he will remember.

Astarion puts the thoughts of "why" (why you? Why are you different? What makes you special?) behind him for now. A treasure hunt for the Blood of Lathander (as if you needed to shine even brighter), a stolen githyanki egg (Lae'zel keeps it safe in her backpack), and an escape from a créche later, Astarion is more than happy to find refuge in the underdark, which proves to be more beautiful than any of them could imagine.

Something makes him look over to you then, and he watches as you take in the sights with wonder in your eyes, the gentle darkness cradling your face in its dreamy blue glow.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #astarion/reader #astarion bg3 #will there be a second part? who knows #i black out and suddenly there is 10k words

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diioonysus · 8 months

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it's always a joke i see passed around, but it's also based in a misconception of it, but roman and greek mythology are vastly different.

roman gods and goddesses were named after objects and did not possess a gender, whereas greek gods were decided by human characteristics and traits.

2. greek gods had heavy emphasis placed on their physical appearance, both beauty, and unsightliness. the description of their physical appearance would come from the myth itself. greek mythology would describe the gods and goddesses as having strong characteristics. these characteristics would have a direct impact on the physical appearance they were given, while roman gods were not described in such a way. roman gods had less emphasis put on their characteristics; therefore, their physical appearances were less strong if there was a physical depiction of them at all.

3. many myths are told differently like the trojan war and odysseus' return.

4. in greek mythology, mortal greek heroes were just as important as greek gods and goddesses. greek heroes often had roles that taught life lessons that were just as important as the myths that were told about greek gods and goddesses. greek mythology emphasized the importance of good deeds mortals performed on earth. roman mythology was different in this way. roman mythology did not put emphasis on the works of mortal heroes in regards to their life on earth because roman mythology believed in an afterlife (greeks did too but not in a strong way as romans did).

5. the greek culture viewed deities as an unattainable being. this means that mortals would never be able to reach deity status and have a place among the gods they worshipped. instead, they would have to do good works on earth to have the honor of the gods during their time on earth. roman culture was different. romans believed that mortals should try to aspire to be like the gods they worshipped. part of the reason is that they used the roman gods and goddesses as an inspiration to live life the right way. the other reason is that they believed in an afterlife that they would attain when their life on earth was over.

6. the gods had much different attributes differing from greek and roman; ares was the unpredictable spirit of war, and he wasn't the most popular god, but in rome, mars was hugely popular and was worshipped much more than the greek ares. demeter was the goddess of the harvest and grains, while ceres was those things as well plus art and culture.

7. in greek mythology, the afterlife does not hold much importance. in fact, gods and mortals are regularly snatched from the afterlife and brought in to the present showing no concern for the afterlife. the greek perspective is much more concerned with the physical life on earth as opposed to the afterlife. mortals are remembered and rewarded for their good deeds on earth. in contradiction, the romans did good deeds to secure their place in afterlife. they could even earn a place among the gods and through their life on earth strove towards this goal.

i know it's funny to be like "romans copied greeks," i don't view it as copying and pasting, i view it as the being inspired by greek gods and greek mythology and applying it to their own religions, and that's not a weird, uncommon thing. greeks also borrowed from other cultures to form their own gods. ancient greeks borrowed from minoans, mycenaeans, egyptians and phoenicians. THAT IS NOT A BAD THING! greek language also helped expand the italian language as well, they expanded their own knowledge with knowledge they learned from greeks, and other cultures they came across.

another complaint i see is "they conquered greece, so greeks didn't have a choice." i don't know how to tell you this in the most polite way, but conquering land in this time was gigantic and very common and normal! how do you think the mongolians became so powerful, they didn't do it through peaceful encounters. everybody did it, it's how culture spread so rapidly through the ancient world, not to mention through trade.

i know it's funny to say the italians copied greeks, but get over yourself, it's not funny nor is it correct.

#ive seen many uneducated comments and i had to set some of the picture straight #greek mythology #roman mythology

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theedoctorb · 1 year

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Dungeons & Dragons Content Creators Summit and Being a Corporate "Shill"

I was invited to attend the Dungeon & Dragons (D&D) Creator Summit in early April, and I happily accepted. I initially wasn’t going to publicly say anything about attending because I didn’t see any need. However, in the last week, numerous conversations on various internet platforms have both tacitly and overtly accused anyone in attendance of being a Wizards of the Coast (WotC) “shill” or “clout chaser” who will agree with anything WotC says because they:

Paid for attendees’ travel.

Included a per diem to cover meals and incidentals while traveling.

Have given past promotional materials to many of the people in attendance.

May offer us further financial opportunities in exchange for refusing to challenge currently proposed ideas and materials.

This is not only reductive, but further divides a community still reeling in the wake of the recent uproar over the leaked, proposed Open Gaming License (OGL) revisions which resulted in targeted harassment of individual studio employees and content creators, especially those of marginalized identities, despite the fact that most of those who were harassed had no authority over the business decisions which caused the initial uproar.

What is a Summit?

Summits are opportunities to have open dialogues and share opinions towards a common goal. They’re common in academia and politics. Good summits are about synthesizing new ideas and challenging old ones. They’re often heavily structured and moderated with specific strategic goals, and the good ones deliberately invite people with vastly different perspectives on a topic.

To put it mildly, summits aren’t something to organize if you want people to pat you on the head and tell you that you’re doing just great! They’re often extremely heated because people passionately and vehemently advocate for their perspectives and priorities which may be in direct opposition to others’.

What’s different about this summit is that it ostensibly possesses a level of transparency which I haven’t experienced before. Summits are often closed-door conversations, so that the people in attendance can speak candidly about topics or strategies currently in the planning stages.

My invitation email specifically stated that the goals of the D&D Content Creator Summit are:

To gather feedback on how the D&D team can improve the experience of making D&D content.

To gather feedback on upcoming products such as the D&D Rules Update and D&D VTT.

For content creators to have more opportunities to interact with D&D staff in-person.

The email invitation specifically stated that this summit is based on consistent feedback WotC has gathered since PAX Unplugged 2022, and that this is a “first step.” Additionally, no one in attendance will be expected to create any content regarding the summit, WotC will not be taking any footage, photos, or recordings of the summit for any purpose, and any information shared with attendees may be shared with the community. That last part is notable, because it means that people in attendance – all of whom have platforms of varying sizes – can frankly offer feedback now and in the future on what is discussed, as well as how D&D incorporates the feedback.

Who is Going? Why Were They Invited?

I don’t fully know who is going. I also don’t know why certain people were invited and others weren’t. No one I know of – outside the organizers and those who helped them – does, and anyone else is likely acting on various degrees of speculation. I strongly suspect questions about inclusion and exclusion criteria will be some of the first things asked at the summit. I’m especially curious about this criteria, given that content creation isn’t my primary job – consultation and education on mental health are, though that role sometimes extends to matters of content creation.

Some creators announced their attendance publicly out of excitement at being included or with the intent of gathering questions from their communities. Some creators kept their attendance privately known only among industry members and friends. Of those I know who have kept their attendance private, the fear of being the target of harassment is a commonly cited reason, but an even more common reason was a desire to attend and push for change.

Many of the people I know who plan on attending are staunch advocates for various topics such as inclusion, accessibility, and representation of marginalized individuals in D&D and other tabletop roleplaying games (TTRPGs). Some of them have directly consulted with WotC before and offered frank feedback as part of their consultant role. Other attendees built their platforms on advocacy and haven’t been shy about calling out perceived missteps. In short, they’re not people who are afraid to voice their opinions.

It’s worth noting that – of the attendees I know – nearly every single one is marginalized in one or multiple ways, whether it’s ethnicity, gender identity, orientation, neurotype, medical/disability status, or a variety of other identities. Nevertheless, who is and who isn’t in attendance is absolutely worth noting, once we have all the facts. Who has a seat at the table is always poignant and important feedback.

Isn’t Your Objectivity Compromised by Receiving Compensation for Attendance? Coercive Rewards and Role Clarity

Some of the online discourse supposes that those of us in attendance will kowtow to WotC’s efforts because they paid for travel, offered a per diem, and many of us have received promotional materials in the past on which we’ve built content. Is that true? Is our objectivity compromised? Probably not, and here’s why. In the psychology field, there are two concepts we talk about frequently: coercive rewards and role clarity. Coercive rewards are often discussed in terms of psychology research. Participants in research are generally compensated in some way for their participation, but the compensation cannot be so great as to compel or coerce them into saying yes when they might otherwise refuse. To give some perspective on the level of compensation, I live in the same geographical region as WotC headquarters, so travel costs aren’t covered for me. I am still receiving a per diem for food and incidentals during the summit. However, I’m taking two days away from both my day job and my private practice. While I can reschedule some of my clients, I won’t be able to reschedule all of them, so I’m going to end up losing money by attending, and I’ll have to make up other work at my day job. To put it bluntly, per diem and travel costs (if I were traveling), and occasional promotional material are not enough to coerce an endorsement from me, especially if I think something is actively harmful and the goal of the summit is to offer critical feedback.

Instead, my attendance is driven by my love of the D&D community, what it’s meant to me, and my desire to help improve that community and help it thrive by bringing as many people to the table as possible. Most of the people I know planning to attend are in similar situations and of similar mindsets – taking time off from work and essentially losing money because the goals of this summit are important to them. The travel compensation and per diem simply help to minimize losses for some people.

One summit attendee I spoke with noted that there is also an equity issue at play. Without offering compensation for travel and a per diem, it limits attendance to those of a certain socioeconomic level. That negates the possibility of wider community feedback. Also, how many memes and Twitter threads exist about creators being “paid” in exposure? Offering compensation hints to me that WotC takes this feedback seriously and is willing to treat everyone in attendance like a professional.

Beyond pure dollars and cents, many of the summit attendees are either immunocompromised or have family members who are. They are literally taking health risks to attend because they believe in the purpose of this summit and improving the D&D community as a whole. If that’s not a sign of how dedicated some of the attendees are to improving the community, then I don’t know what is. Now let’s talk about role clarity. There are a lot of different jobs in psychology, just like there are in games and content creation. In psychology, a person might be a therapist, evaluator, expert witness, consultant, teacher, researcher, or any number of other roles. To perform any of these roles effectively, they must be crystal clear on what that role entails and what is outside its scope. It’s the same thing here with the summit. Based on the invitation email, it seems that the role is similar to one of a consultant – to critically evaluate what is presented and offer feedback based on one’s experience and expertise. Thankfully, this is a role in which many of the attendees I know have a wealth of experience.

Some readers might retort with, “But you might get other jobs by being there!” Yes. Yes, we might. This is a professional invitation with an expected, professional role, and if we perform that role well, we might get future professional opportunities. That’s what should happen when one performs their job well, and it should be true regardless of the industry and context. However, the reality is that those jobs are both hypothetical and not likely to happen overnight. It's more likely that these jobs would be one-off consultations, collaborations, or the like.

While jobs like that are appreciated and welcome, they are not steady employment. Summits are not generally real-life versions of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory whereby the one attendee who is most skilled and virtuous will be given control of WotC. Anyone who plans on attending with the fantasy that they will be instantly rewarded with their dream job is probably going to be disappointed.

Is This Summit Solely to Do Public Relations Damage Control?

Ignoring the fact that a lot of the people attending this summit are generous with their opinions, for good or ill, some in the community have asserted that the D&D Content Creator Summit is simply WotC’s attempt to repair damage to the D&D brand in the wake of the bad business decisions during the recent OGL controversy. Events like this summit take a long time to organize, so I actually believe the email I received when they said that this is based on feedback they’ve received from as far back as late November/early December 2022.

At the same time, WotC would be foolish to avoid using this as a step towards what they pledged they would do at the tail-end of the OGL controversy: obtain and incorporate direct, community feedback. After all, the ability to follow through on proposed behavior changes is what we want when we have problems with people and companies, right? If the goal is to simply do damage control after a public relations nightmare, inviting a bunch of opinionated people with platforms to give feedback isn’t great if one doesn’t intend to actually listen.

No one attending has forgotten the OGL situation, regardless of where they stood on it. If WotC is doing things well, they’ll learn that from the feedback. If WotC is going in a direction that irks folks at the summit, they’re going to learn that too, and if it’s the latter, that’s not going to help WotC, because the folks in attendance have platforms and haven’t signed any non-disclosure agreements.

Final Thoughts

All in all, what is the D&D Content Creator Summit going to be, and what is going to come out of it? I don’t know. I don’t think anyone does.

Much like in D&D, we can’t know the outcome of things before the action. That said, there are going to be a lot of talented, caring, observant, insightful content creators present asking hard questions and offering critical feedback. Content creators, especially advocates like those I know are going, work damn hard to produce what they do, and it cheapens their hard work, especially the advocacy work, to call them corporate shills and assume that they’re going to agree with anything presented. Agreement isn’t the assignment. Neither is the assignment for us to listen to WotC. The assignment is for WotC to listen to us.

If we want to see change from people and companies, we have to be willing to note when they take steps to change, even if it’s just the first step. That’s not to say we can’t be critical at the same time. We should be critical, in fact, but critical isn’t the same as unyielding vitriol, universal condemnation, and us-versus-them. Critical means noting both mistakes and successes and pushing for constant improvement. No person or company is going to go from badly messing up to doing everything perfectly.

As far as I know, WotC is trying something new with this summit, and it represents a shift in how they produce their products. I don’t know if it’s going to lead to sustained changes, but I’m willing to see if it does. I hope it does. More than that, I hope it’s exactly what they said it is: the “first step” in a new strategy of involving the community. My biggest fear is that if they see overwhelming, unflinching condemnation of anything they attempt, especially when it’s violence and threats from the community they’re trying to get input from, then they may stop trying to engage at all, and then we’re left with only anger and unfulfilled hopes.

#ttrpg #content creation #wizards of the coast #dungeons and dragons

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xfancyuu · 1 year

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~ hold your breath, love dive. [aemond targaryen]

this is my first fanfic!!! this fic is also a repost, originally posted on 16th october 2022 on a different blog however i want all my work to be on this blog. reader is afab with she/her pronouns and has no appearance indicators. this fic has also been reformatted and edited, reposted on 7th april 2023.

premise: reader meets vhagar (my queen) [2,945 words]

The betrothal between houses Targaryen and Bolton was a choice not many had seen coming. You especially, you had gone from a girl who was content with the fact your father would marry you off to some Lord, and you'd live a life, you weren't sure if it had been a happy one, but it would have certainly been a life. You knew Aemond Targaryen was unpredictable, unstable even. He chose to claim a dragon as a pre-teen, stable wasn't something you'd use to describe him. He was chaos personified, like waves in the sea, uncontrollable, and you weren't sure what your father thought he was getting out of the arrangement. (You knew what he was getting out of the arrangement: power and selling off his only daughter was clearly the only way he'd receive such notoriety.)

The arrangement wasn't as horrific as you originally thought it would be, Aemond had seemed pleasant company though you were always in public, always chaperoned, so the man could not spend time truly alone with you, while your father wanted to marry you did not have your own opinions or goals in life, he did not trust the man you were to marry fully. Nor did you. You knew the tales of the women his brother ruined the reputations of, while his dutiful wife had to put up with his antics. You never knew how a man behaved behind closed doors, your brothers were a prime example of this for you. A prince was just a man after all and men were much different to the ladies you had spent time around. Kings Landing was entirely different in general, the styles, the hair, the people even, it was far too busy and put you on edge far too much.

They were dragons, both in sigil and temperament, you had thought. Each member of the family was equally fiery and hard to read, comparing them to the creatures which set them apart so vastly was a correct comparison in your opinion. Being around them made you feel powerful, that nobody could cross you, but you knew much better that politics can change in an instant — Rhaenyra and Rhaenys were proof of that. It scared you, being in the dragons pit.

Your time is spent with Helaena, she is a few years older than you though you think she is wise beyond her years, often telling you about the things she dreams about and often times speaks in riddles though you find her company more entertaining than most people. She understands you on a level which others do not, and you think in another timeline you would not be marrying her brother and she would not be married to her own husband, you would still be friends or perhaps more.

She doesn't want you today though, she claims she's ill with a sickness which is contagious — you'd get sick to spend time with her, you consider her your only true friend in this place, though Helaena being the kind sweet soul she is would never allow you to give yourself a sickness on her behalf. Suddenly you're alone, the day grows boring, the library is unappealing, you can only walk around a garden — no matter the size of it, so many times without growing bored. Needlepoint is tedious, and you think you could not cope if your life was to be like this once you were married. The garden however is where you find him, alone. It's the first time you've spent time together alone, and your palms feel sticky, and your heart is beating out of your chest. You don't know how you'll survive within a marriage when you cannot speak to the man without wanting to run away due to shyness.

"You avoid me far too much," he's the first to speak, you doubt words could process from your brain to your mouth to do so, "Do I scare you that much?"

You do not want to answer at first — perhaps he's talking about his presence or rather the scars he could not help, but you're strong, you're from the North and Northern girls aren't typically timid nor shy, "Why would I do that my Prince?" you can see how it would consider it mocking, but the playful tone in your voice indicates your intent. "Am I too fast for you to catch?"

You doubt you've thrown him off guard, though maybe that's why he had chosen you, "Do you think you are fast enough to outrun a dragon?" he asks.

"I do not know, you see I've never met a dragon nor seen one to know how fast they can be... though I have no doubt I can outrun one" you're being cocky, or perhaps you're flirting, you do not know which one would be better though you seem to amuse the price in question.

"Would you like to see one?" you don't know if it's a euphemism or if he's being serious, perhaps he does have a sense of humour after all.

"Hmm... I'm not too sure they would take kindly to those who aren't of Valyrian blood, what if one tries to eat me... I've heard the tales of the dragon who resides on Dragonstone who eats its own kind and humans alike." you're teasing him, who wouldn't want to see a dragon? You'd encounter them eventually, you surmised, it was hard to live in a family with such beasts without doing so.

"You know of the Cannibal?" his interest had piqued at that, your time with his sister had clearly come with advantages, learning more about the Targaryen family, the dragons owned (and not) by his family had interested him, next you'd surprise him by speaking Valyrian.

"Only what her grace, your sister, had told me about it, that apparently the dragon is older than Balerion the black dread — though it seems unrealistic and hearsay, your father rode him once did he not? Balerion I mean, —" your sentence was cut short by the prince, who was seemingly not paying attention to you, it was awkward for a few seconds before he excused himself.

Aemond had seemingly looked off to the side, as if being summoned though you didn't pay it much mind, the two of you were having an enjoyable conversation (well in your personal opinion, the prince may have just been conversing due to the fact his family didn't want the arrangement to sour due to his or your behaviours). Though, he had pulled away at seemingly the last second, muttering an apology and leaving you in the garden alone.

As fast as he'd disturbed your peace, he disappears almost as abruptly, almost making you wonder if you'd spoken out of turn and offended him somehow. And you could not help but notice how much lonelier you had become without his presence.

Some days had passed and the interaction with Aemond had lived within your head, when you weren't needed or doing something you'd thought back to the conversation, he was a seemingly lovely match and paid attention to you. Not that you could say the same for your parents, they hadn't known where you were or what you were doing most of the time, they only lectured you into behaving around the royal family, ladies do not laugh loudly, ladies do not spend more time daydreaming than needlepoint and ladies certainly do not frolic around the gardens unchaperoned. Helaena hadn't miraculously recovered, which meant your family continued to lecture you. Perhaps they were more irritated about the fact you weren't strengthening the bond of both families to ensure the marriage, as your mother had kindly put it. You were aware your family wanted more power, but the possibility of you getting sick while they were heightening their station could not have occurred to them.

Your days continued to be as boring as ever without Helaena's company you were beyond restless, your parents had told you to behave far too many times, so much you could recite their speeches. Though it didn't stop you from wandering alone — again. You wouldn't be shocked if it got back to them — again. However, just as the last time you were alone, Aemond Targaryen once again approaches you. Cockily as ever, though being a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms and having the largest dragon could perhaps have that effect on one's self-confidence.

"Lady Bolton, you are the exact person I was looking for," he once again spoke, he often left you speechless, from his undeniable beauty to the confidence he exuded — you had found out he wasn't always this way, gaining Vhagar had changed him, and you surmised it was most likely for the better. "If you can recall we spoke about dragons and I have reconsidered the terms of our arrangement."

This made your blood go cold, you were certain you had not offended the Prince, though with the way he'd looked at you during meal times you could see how speaking about the dragons which were an extension of his family could offend him. "Have you spoken to my father about this?" He wouldn't be happy, you knew him well enough to know that.

"You misunderstand me, my Lady," you were sure your heart would have stopped if it was not for the words he spoke, "I cannot marry you without being certain."

It was not a good conversation to be had, and you were almost panicking, and you were certain you saw a taunting glint within his eye, "I can assure you, our union would be fruitful, and you would be happy." You've been taught what it takes to be a wife from your mother, but she had never explained what it truly entailed, your words feel rehearsed and panicked and came out of your mouth far too fast.

"I cannot be happy without being certain that you could handle this life," you're not sure what he's talking about, you've handled court well, made friends, were well liked by most people, and before your mind drifted somewhere else to think of every single misdeed you'd done, he spoke again, "The dragons are loyal, they want to protect their riders, Vhagar especially so," there was something in his tone which told you, you were missing the context of this statement, "I would like you to meet her, hopefully she won't harm you."

You weren't sure what to think, on one hand seeing the marvellous and beautiful beast that she was, was a once in a lifetime opportunity, on the other hand you could be hurt, or worse. It was seemingly a deal breaker to Aemond, if you chose to say no he could easily break off the engagement without remorse, he's a man, they never face the repercussions of their own actions.

"When do you wish to plan this meeting?" you asked, you didn't fear much, and if a dragon harms you, burns you or eats you, you supposed there were worse, less dignified ways to have your life ended.

"I was heading there now and while you are unoccupied I had asked your father's permission," he can't say no to a prince, out of fear of offending, you knew that much.

"With the way some at court speak of you Aemond, I'm surprised you asked for permission," the playful tone in your voice was evident that you truly did not believe court gossip. "How could I ever say no to meeting the eldest dragon known to man? If she eats me it would be a happy day for me."

He finds you amusing, you can tell, he's poker-faced, but you can always tell by the subtle way his body moved closer to yours, "I hope she chooses not to, it would be a sad day. I'm afraid I would not know what to say to your father about the occasion, his only daughter, eaten by a dragon, how would he recover?"

"You don't know my father like I do, he'd spin some tale that I was courageous and chose to fight a dragon and paid for it with my life." You're divulging far too much about your personal family life now, you're giving him too much insight and unnecessary information which could be used against you in a moment's notice. "However, I am not going to let a dragon eat me today, my outfit simply will not allow it."

The journey to the largest dragon currently roaming freely was not as daunting as you'd originally thought, the nervousness you were feeling in your stomach hadn't subsided. Though, you could almost feel the anticipation radiating off of Aemond. Perhaps he wanted a show, perhaps he wanted to see how you'd react to such a magnificent creature, or perhaps he wanted to see Vhagar burn you alive.

She was there, laying and looking lethargic, or maybe she was simply not wanting to live life any more, she was beyond the size you had imagined, though something about her looked gentle. She hadn't harmed Aemond when she was a child and this made you feel safer, along with her rider being there, maybe he'd calm her with his presence. "Are you bonded to her?"

"In what way?" Aemond asks, keeping you behind him while he spoke in Valyrian — words you couldn't understand but if you were to have children in the future you should take note to learn.

"Can you feel what she feels, can she always feel your presence? Does she know when you're in trouble?" The questions come from your mouth before you can stop them, "You're speaking to her right now, are you not? Are you telling her to be on her best behaviour?"

"Did you not know we're always on our best behaviour." His response had made you laugh, you couldn't help it, if it had came from any other person you would have believed it. "Do I amuse you?"

"Yes very much so," Vhagar is stirring now, being so big she looks heavy to even move her head properly, you'd fear her moving her body without injuring anybody within the surrounding area. "It's a good sign she hasn't eaten me yet, isn't it."

"Don't be fooled by her, she's cunning, but she favours the brave." he spoke.

"Would she consider me brave if I were to touch her?" You ask, already moving forward however Aemond hadn't chose to stop you, perhaps he thought you too foolish for your own good.

"Isn't that what we're here for? You're to meet her and she chooses if we marry." Now you knew the motive. There was so much more than what met the eye with Aemond and you'd do well to remember that.

Taking slow and steady steps towards Vhagar was the easy part, she had emitted heat, much like the dogs your father chose to keep around in the Dreadfort. It was hard to stay away from her, she was utterly captivating, and it did not stop you from placing a hand on her. You don't doubt that you looked like an ant to her, tiny and easy to destroy with one singular movement. However, she stayed in place, letting out what sounded like a sigh. It was a good sign for you to continue touching her, it's not at all what you had expected her to feel like, she had felt warm and inviting despite her intimidating appearance. She was like her rider in more ways than he'd ever let the world know.

"You weren't serious about her eating you, were you?" Aemond asks, while you're completely mesmerised by how big and docile she was, your hand still holding the dragon's warm scales while Aemond's presence was felt closely behind you.

"Seeing her up close, I fear I misjudged her," and you goes unsaid. "She seems lonely and I wish she had more company, do you keep her company often? When you're not at court?"

"I suppose I too would be lonely if I lost Balerion and Meraxes." He confesses, "But she is well taken care of, I can assure you."

"There are tales of you claiming her, that you were a child and the only one brave enough to go near her," the stories are fabricated most of the time, "That you lost the eye for the dragon, was it worth it?" you hadn't approached the topic of his long gone eye, though you fear you may have offended him when he does not speak straight away.

"A dragon is a great price for something so small as losing an eye" he spoke though you can tell there's melancholy within his tone, you were so close now, incredibly so, never had you been so close to a man. "It does not frighten you does it?"

"You lost an eye for a dragon, why would that frighten me, my prince?" it's a question he can't answer because he's the one who's finally speechless. "Are you fulfilled in the answer you so desperately sought from this encounter?"

"I think I have all the answers I need," he had pulled you away from Vhagar ever so gently, it was the softest you had ever felt the man, "I shall tell your father we shall be married as soon or as late as you wish to do so."

"When we are married will you let me fly with you?" the answer was unspoken, he'd take you to the ends of beyond the wall if you so much as wished it. Perhaps the marriage was the perfect match despite being arranged, he'd found somebody as equally obsessed with dragons as he'd once been.

as stated before, this is a repost and not entirely a rewrite, just an edited version of mistakes i realised i made months ago. i hope y'all still enjoyed this. crossposted on ao3 under the name hedonism.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd aemond #hotd imagine #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #asoiaf x reader #asoiaf imagine #asoiaf fanfic

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communistkenobi · 4 months

Note

There’s this post going around about convincing conservatives to support trains by painting cars as “an attack on traditional transport” (I don’t remember it exactly, but they specifically used the words attack on traditional something)

Mostly people were taking it as a joke, or pointing out how this could be also be used to convince people of conservative goals and to read carefully when it comes to inclusive or sustainable language (like pinkwashing or certain ideologies related to overpopulation)

But I saw one argument that it was useful because “if your politics can only convince people who already agree with you it’s not useful” and while I agree you should tailor your arguments to tie audience, using “attack on tradition” specifically feels odd. (This argument was in response to someone mentioning the issues a rail system organized by people with that mindset would have)

I guess I’d like to know what you think about it, since I’m not very knowledgeable when it comes to politics.

I believe you’re talking about this post:

If you wanted to take this screenshot seriously I think it’s a pretty bad way to convince people of your own political beliefs and goals, because you’re not actually convincing them of anything lol. There is a difference between tailoring your arguments to your audience or meeting people where they are versus adopting the framework of your political enemies to make your own goals appear to align with their own. You have not actually convinced conservatives that public transit is good for the reasons it is actually good (the reasons public transit is good is diametrically opposed to their beliefs), you have only convinced them that public transit can fit under a conservative policy framework. Well conservative policies are disgusting! They are hostile to human life, they make the world a worse place to live in. The crux of the argument being made here is that ‘traditional society’ is something worth protecting, and public transit is an avenue through which this protection can be done. I think if you are conceding this much rhetorical and political ground to your enemy to make them ‘agree’ with you, you’re not being savvy or politically strategic, you are just making conservative arguments. The problem is that traditional society is a vile concept and no policy should rest on that kind of foundation. The way you frame a problem determines the potential solution outcomes; the solution being championed here is not that more public transit solves a host of pressing social problems (increased accessibility and mobility for disabled people, the elderly, children, and the poor, reducing/resolving congestion and traffic issues that plague every urban centre, vastly reducing the amount of deaths related to vehicle collisions for both pedestrians and drivers, reducing carbon emissions produced by vehicles, the list is effectively endless), but that ‘traditional society’ can be saved using public transit - this traditional society being built by white supremacist and cishetero-patriarchal politics, a system of explicit racial and gendered hierarchy and inequality, conservative cultural ideas about struggle, rugged individualism, the strong dominating the weak, and so on. You’re just making a conservative argument!

The whole liberal fantasy surrounding debates is that politics is primarily a game of rhetoric where ideas clash for dominance and the best ideas win. If you can’t even convince someone of your own political goals on your own terms using your own ideas - or worse, your political goals are so modular and vague that you believe using fascist concepts like ‘protecting traditional society’ is a productive vehicle for getting what you want - you are at best useless and at worst part of the problem. In either case I don’t think it’s effective or worth your time, you’re literally just increasing the amount of conservative arguments that exist in the world, and if you believe otherwise you’re either an idiot or you’re dangerous

#asks #my actual answer is just don’t debate conservatives lol #especially not online there’s no point #If you want to evangelise do it with someone far more amenable to your political goals because they might actually be helpful #conservatives are fascists when it comes down to it and we don’t need to win them over to win #using a general ‘you’ btw I’m not talking about you specifically #geography

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awakenedsalamander · 3 months

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I keep thinking about the section at the very end of the 2E Mage: The Awakening Corebook that discusses Ascension.

Obviously, Ascension is the big goal of both Mage games (the WoD version is, of course, literally named for it), and so it makes sense for a Mage fan like myself to be kind of captivated by any hints of it I get.

And I am in love with the little details we get of how mages Ascend; the strange behaviors and otherworldliness of the Awakened on the threshold of another sublime transformation— how their very names and symbols become charged with power once they cross beyond the Abyss.

But what really keeps my attention is this section:

[None of the Ascended are] remembered by the Sleepers who once knew them. The Ascended slip out of Sleeper memory like water through a sieve. The Quiescence sits heaviest upon close friends and family. People who saw the Ascended every day, if she kept any in her life, wax nostalgic for a short while, as though their loved one had simply gone on a long trip. They quickly change the subject, and resist attempts to return to it. The more distantly a Sleeper orbited the Ascended’s life, the foggier the memories get, until no one remembers her at all.

(Mage: The Awakening, Second Edition, Page 313.)

How deeply melancholic a thought— you become an incarnate symbol of magic, finally complete your journey… and so, of course, the Sleepers forget you.

I’m not here to say that Ascending to the Supernal is a bad thing, I think that’s probably up to the individual mage, but what a heavy price. It really frames the Silver Ladder and the Free Council, and their vastly different but still related dreams of freedom for Sleepers and the Awakened alike.

It was always a painful goodbye, to leave for a world beyond worlds. But the parting is not made easier, knowing only one of us shall remember it.

#chronicles of darkness #cofd #mage the awakening #mtaw

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femmefatalevibe · 1 year

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Femme Fatale Guide: How To Master The Art of Self-Validation & Stop Caring What Others Think

Remember that you have the longest relationship with yourself in this life. Friends, family, lovers, partners, spouses, mentors, etc. will come and go. Ultimately, though, you have to live with the consequences of your actions for the longest – whether they be positive or negative.

Everyone is self-centered to a certain degree. No one cares about your happiness as much or is watching you as closely as you are. They all have themselves and their lives to worry about. People are paying attention to their own self-interests (or want you to accomplish things to boost their own credibility or self-esteem). Being your greatest personal cheerleader is the only way to fully give yourself the praise and spotlight you deserve for your accomplishments.

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ceilidho · 4 months

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Do you have any advice or tips for writing dialogue? It's what I struggle most with 😩😩😩

haha I wish I did 😩 honestly this one sucks the most for me because I truly feel like I don't understand how people talk, or like, I'm really only beginning to get it. I remember spending most of my teenage years (I started writing fanfiction around age 13 or so) really not understanding how people talk to each other and being supremely confused about it.

Once again, the biggest help you're ever going to get is just watching a lot and reading a lot and paying attention to how people talk. I mentioned this in my other writing advice ask, so I'll just reiterate below and add some other observations I have on how people speak:

If you're writing fanfiction, watch or read the source material as much as possible, until you can almost hear the way the character sounds in your head. Take time to understand things like their accent and how they speak (do they talk a lot or very little? do they use slang or enunciate everything? do they speak quickly or slowly?). Here, you just want to concentrate on the cadence of their speech / their speech patterns. If they speak plainly or use lots of proverbs or turns of phrases, that sort of thing. If you have that down, you've honestly done half the work. Even I often reread my work and go "fuck, all of these people SOUND the same even though they're saying different things".

A super important point I should make before anything else is that dialogue is intrinsic to character. If you have a taciturn, sullen, aloof character, they probably won't be a very emotional or heartfelt interlocutor. The things (the content of their dialogue) they'll want to speak about will also reflect this - they might complain more often, might not offer praise as readily. They won't ask for help or share vulnerable parts of them.

A more positive character will be the exact opposite of that. They might be more eager to offer advice or praise. They might feel nervous or uncomfortable about confrontation or calling someone out if they're doing something the character doesn't like.

Essentially, when you're not sure what a character would say, think about:

Who is this person? What are their core attributes?

What is their end goal from this conversation? (or, if it's just chatter / conversation for conversation's sake, what kinds of topics might they be interested in?)

If there is a goal, how would this particular character achieve it (or would they be unsuccessful if they're too timid or mean about it)? Would they be blunt, circumlocutory, deliberately confusing, manipulative - would they get frustrated with themselves because even the character isn't able to say the thing they want to say?

Another thing you have to understand about the way people speak, even if this is VASTLY frustrating when writing because it takes you longer to get to the point, is that people rarely just outright say what they want. Sooommeeee people do, but even in your personal life you'll know those kinds of people to be blunt, straight forward, etc. Most people aren't like that. If you need to take the extra chapter or couple paragraphs to wrangle the truth out of someone, that's pretty natural.

I try to avoid clichés or anything corny in my dialogue unless it makes sense for that character (for instance, Price might be more likely to use like generic white guy colloquialisms like "you're barking up the wrong tree" or "let's rock and roll" lmaoo).

Anyway, I don't have much advice for dialogue because I also struggle with it, but one thing to keep in mind is that readers are very aware of characterization, even subconsciously. Don't sacrifice good characterization even if it means you need to redo a scene or take longer to get to something.

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