#additional tags to be added

[unknownmusing]

Baldur's Gate - Halsin x Astarion Fanfic: 'Always there to Travel the Same Path which One Walks' - Prologue 1 to 3 (Act 1) (Spawn Astarion and Ascended Astarion Route)

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Note:

Spawn Astarion and Ascended Route will start with same prologue then it will be separate chapters as rest of fic progresses to represent both routes

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Notes:

A Baldur's Gate: Halsin x Astarion fic inspired by the game Baldur Gate 3 and watching ongoing playthrough of it on Youtube

Slight canon diverge with some made up Background stuff for Astarion and other characters

WIP mode as use the wiki fandom and playthroughs to get idea of characters

Title refers to how Astarion and Halsin join up with the rest of the *company ( *will be introduced in later on chapters) but also travel a path together which leads to something more.

Starts off with Astarion's P.O.V

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Prologue - 'A Pale Elf in a Grove' (1 of 3)

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Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Approaching Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

"Is Halsin a fool?!!! Why has he brought this 'thing' here!!!?"

"I do not know….it greatly concerns….Archdruid Halsin!!!… We…..yes…..we understand…."

Voices.

Whispering amongst themselves before going silent, footsteps fading into the distance of somewhere which smells moist, lush and fresh - like it's not been tainted by any pollutants - and movement of something large, warm and furry choosing to lay down beside me.

Why couldn't I remember what had happened? What even had happened? Had I been attacked by someone or something?

Those questions remain swirling around my aching head - like I been hit by something very heavy and large - that it is difficult to even force myself to wake up so can check my surroudings, only sink into deeper sleep like I'm being made to do it to help me heal. So different when my Master Cazador treated me - his more of punishment so cruel, unkind and harsh it border on machositic that he didn't really care how many times he hurt me.

I must have whimpered because a soft chuffing noise comes from the large, warm furry thing beside me with wet snout nudging me to force me to roll onto my side to face into a warm furry belly and chest of what scenting register is in fact bear at least I think it is. I want to wake, I need to wake.

But the drowiness is settling in so fast, a soothing calming wave washing over me that find myself relaxing for the first time in centuries, allowing myself to fall asleep against the warmth of the large bear beside me.

TIME SKIP

"Hnngh…..Gaahhh!!!?" It is the sensation of sunlight from above burning it's way up my exposed arm which forces me very rudely awake from the deep, healing slumber I had been placed under trying to get up when realise a large, muscular arm - human?…. No….scenting the air…..again….a Wood Elf - is over my waist effectively trapping me against a very muscular, large and naked Wood elf bearing a tattoo mark on one side of his face and horredenous, but oddly enough appealing scars from no doubt from being attacked on his face as well.

Concerned about promixity of our bodies, I shuffle my lower half backwards away from the Wood elf's groin area only to give out a yelp when the large hand which has been around my waist immediatly yanks me flush against the large, muscular chest forcing me to place both my hands on it - or more accurately on top of the Wood Elf's pecs on both their dusky hued nipples to my embarassment even though this unnamed Wood elf does look like a fine specimen.

The sudden hiss of sunlight touching my exposed skin causes me to thrash soon in their grip, managing to wriggle free to quickly roll over to the shadows.

Collapsing slump up against a base for a statue of a wolf carved from stone, I wince at the stinging ache from the sun-burn on my arm hoping my healing factor kicks in, only to notice the wood elf has woken up looking straight at me.

"It's alright, I won't harm you." the wood elf says, voice so deep, husky and soothing it sends a strange shiver through me at the sametime that luring scent of his sweet, smelling blood reaches me.

It is so tempting, I don't realise I prowled out of the shadows into a shaft of sunlight until I'm scrambling back into them cursing myself with my fangs unsheathing themselves, steam still rising from the sun-burnt wounds until finally wisping away and bits of my burnt skin turned to ash to flutter to the ground

"I…need you….to stay just there…" I warn them, only for them to ignore my warning coming over to kneel down in front of me taking hold of my wrist to pull my arm out straight investigating the damage, seeing when I turn my face to one side to wince with eyes slipping shut or peeking open slightly to watch what he's doing.

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Notes:

Title refers how unexpected emotions begin to form in Astarion that he's not used to and how he loses control to them and Halsin the same.

Third part will deal with introducing the Leader of the Party and their background, plus the start of the Mindflyer attack then moving into Act 1

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Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Location - Emerald Grove, Western Heartlands, West Faerun - Early Morning

Astarion's P.O.V:

Halsin – as the Druid or Archdruid to be precise of Emerald Grove is called – is an enigma of a Wood Elf, with most of his time discussing about Nature, protecting the Grove and in his spare time doing mostly mundane things which some to admit were interesting to know about:

his whittling of little carvings of animals so detailed it actually fascinated me to watch from afar doing his work; seeing him resist the temptation of honeyed treats being sold by travelling merchants that couldn’t resist haggling with them to include more of new variations every-time they came back to just watch his eyes sparkle and pretend he’s not drooling over them and finally, seeing him in his bear form allowing children to ride on his back.

Looking over to where he’s discussing something highly important with another Druid – a female Half-elf called Jaheira, who keeps on flicking her gaze over to me wariness showing in her eyes - probably about myself.

Deciding not to hang around, I keep myself to the large grove's shadows, avoiding the spots of sunlight to head to the extensive cave-system of the Emerald Grove.

Within the cave-system, I make my way down towards the halfling merchant - Arron - located nearby a Altar busy checking his wares he's ascertained from his travels.

He stiffens though, ears twitching side to side then turns his gaze to look at me leaning up against a rock pillar in the shadows causing him to give out a ‘Tch, it’s you’ turning to face me where crosses his arms over his chest.

“I told you already, Pale Elf, if you want to sample my wares find out who’s pickpocketing around here.” Arron states, forcing me to raise an eyebrow because it sounds like he's accusing me of being the one doing it.

"And you think I have something to do with it. Heh, I would not resort myself to such lowly act." I state back, slipping myself away deciding I need to go hunting to distract myself from the mutiple heartbeats that head up to the main entrance.

Reaching where the gate is, I stop myself just in time.

The sun has risen at it's highest peak meaning the gate area is completely flooded with light leaving no shadows for me to use to reach it.

Choosing to lean up against a pillar, I find myself looking over at it trying to ascertain whether make a dash for it or wait until nightfall to go hunting for Prey.

Tilting my head backwards, my mind floods to fact I've not felt any sense of my Master Cazador trying to will me back to the Lair where I took lured Prey - most ended up dead and flung into giant pit, others turned in Spawn like me or completely disappeared that even asking would have risked the ire of him so never asked.

"You seem lost in thought, silver-tongue." the disdaining, dripping tone of the female druidess half-elf Jaheira reaches my ears, I lower my head down un-leaning myself from the pillar I brush past her quickly refusing to even acknowledge when find myself suddenly yanked backwards by a glowing tendril of energy straight into large area of sunlight I'd been trying to avoid.

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“Jaheira, what have….you done…!!!?”

“You are too soft, Halsin. We cannot trust this, silver-tongue. You must have noticed how ‘it’ avoids the shadows!!!”

“That I already know. It doesn’t mean you act irrational by doing what you did.”

Shuddering into wakefulness, the first thing to reach my nostrils is the scent of wildflowers – a mixture of so many it takes time to list – with my eyes fluttering open to reveal I’m lying naked in a on a bed of vines and wildflowers entwined together in a cocoon with no sunlight penetrating it.

My acute hearing had picked up Halsin berating until finally blessed silence with me having to use my Predator senses to see how many heat signatures are outside of the healing cocoon – only one – with a gap appearing to reveal the large, wood elf.

Realising he may see the circular scar on my back, I try to move myself only for so much agony to shoot through my body I curl into myself with my bandaged hands wrapping around my bandaged waist shaking so much at it.

“Hgnnnhh…..shit…..shit…..”

Cursing under my breath, biting my bottom lip along with his large hands rolling me onto my back – checking me over – until finally a soothing healing wave from both his hands spreads over me. He is leaning over me in the process, I find myself eying the throbbing, pulsing vein in his neck that pumps his lifeforce within his body.

“Is something wrong?” He asks me, so suddenly I don’t know how to give a proper answer to him which may convince him I'm just appreciating his body and not his blood flowing in his veins.

"I…..umm…may I taste…." I begin to ask, only for him to sit back resting his hands on his lap finishing my sentence. "…to taste my blood." it makes me scramble upwards needing to leave only for him to take hold of me turning my chin to force my face into the crook of his neck.

"Drink."

A command, but not a forced, soft and gentle with myself fully turning in his arms to rest up against his large, muscular chest slipping my hand up cradle the back of his head to tilt his head backwards by his soft, hazel brown locks.

Fangs unsheathing themselves, I sink them straight in hearing him give out a stiffening grunt at it knowing he will react to the venom which will give a numbness and pleasured feeling to the Prey being subdued.

All is quiet, except for occasional soft grunts coming from each-time I take a sip of his blood until finally his large arms are pushing me back seeing how drunk I've become on the taste on it - a blush rising on my cheeks, lips coated still in some of it, that it is so addicting it is feat in me trying to avoid going back for more.

Instead, moving myself over him and placing one hand on his chest to push him down to lay flat on his back noting his hazel brown eyes ringed with gold looking up at mine. Putting my hands either side of his head, I bend down my head down to rest my forehead against his wondering should I do it, licking my lips.

“Thank you.” I tell him, finding weird saying it because I’m not used to saying it – I been ingrained in Master Cazador’s rules and have already broken one – before sealing my lips over his, feeling him stiffening underneath me only to respond with soft, equal fervour it is something part of me wants and other is rebelling at it.

I try to pull away, but he pulls me back into devouring my mouth with his own – lips changing position each-time to deepen the kissing between us both, his tongue flicking across them begging admittance so allow for it to happen.

My whole body quivers up against him.

The sensation of his large hands wrapping around my body, one cradling the back of my head and other resting on my back with his warm, moist tongue entwining with mine inside and outside my mouth makes me want to pull away from him.

Managing to release my lips from his, I gasp breathlessly with my face turned to one side willing myself to calm down - use the seductive techniques I use for Prey to take back to Cazador on him.

“Astarion…..look at me.” Halsin says, voice husky with arousal making me turn my face to look up at him seeing how affected he is – his pupils dilated, lips still swollen from our kissing and no doubt his aroused below – then continues to speak. “I…. don’t whether I can control myself in what happens next.”

Bringing both my hands up to cup his cheeks, looking up into those hazel brown eyes ringed gold I realise what is happening to me - I'm losing control to unexpected emotions rising up within me.

And it is frightening me.

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Notes:

Connected to Prologue (2 of 3) - 'Losing Control to Unexpected Emotions Rising within One'

Introducing Asdalen - a drow elf with Dark Urge Origins and also Halsin's Half-brother (more will be explained about that later in further one chapters) and Lesia, his adopted fae child; Asdalen will be the main leader of the party and romance partner will be Gale.

What happens to Astarion and Halsin will be told in flashback.

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Prologue (3 of 3) - 'When an Unexpected Event Separates Those Close to Others'

Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Approaching Mid-Morning 

12 DAYS LATER

Making my way through the streets of Baldur's Gate towards the 'Whispering Weave' Tavern, I keep an eye on Lesia who is running ahead - her wispy fae form so different from the various Baldurians and other travellers walking back and forth - of me.

My mind is thinking about my half-brother Halsin - an Archdruid of the Emerald Grove located in the Western Heartlands, Western Faerun - knowing it's been quite some time we have met up to discuss things or even talk properly.

Approaching the Tavern, which is near the Harbour, I see two people are walking down towards it - though one of them seems to be keeping mostly to the shadows I notice and the other I recognise is Halsin, who spotting me goes to say something when I finally reach the both of them only to bite his bottom lip which his companion notices before flicking his gaze over to me.

Lesia, spotting Halsin runs up to him to greet him and hold out her little hands to be lifted up by him.

I wait to see whether he will do it, part of me - an unknown, uncontrolled side whispers, 'Kill them both' and other horrendous things - and the more rational side - though don't know how long it will last - knows he can't deny her.

Finally, he bends down to lift her up, surprising his silvery white-haired companion beside him that approach though still with caution because it's been quite some time since seen him.

"Hello, little one." Halsin says, smiling softly with his companion - keeping to the shadows - admiring in their own way until finally turns their gaze to me.

Behind the white-bone mask I wear to cover my face a strange, prickling sense that I'm being analysed by a Predator hits me.

My own unknown Predator's senses soon wanting to confront back and tear their throat out.

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Astarion’s P.O.V:

Coming back to Baldur’s Gate after twelve days, I know at some point Cazador will send out my ‘siblings’ to collect me but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to do so as myself and Halsin walk through the marketplace close to the Harbour.

Stopping in the shadows of archway, Halsin turns to face me when sees I seem to be not my usual self – my body tone is showing wariness – so brings a hand up to cup my cheek to reassure me everything is alright with him being here for me.

Immediately resting my forehead against his, hands moving to rest own on his large, muscular chest it makes me realise the twelve days and nights we’ve shared together – his soft, breathless kisses he will give me; reassuring me when nightmares overwhelmed and finally, making sure my bloodthirst is sated – it has felt like freedom.

“I…don’t want to leave you….just yet….” I admit, knowing we must go our separate ways with him heading back to the Emerald Grove and myself back to my ‘prison’ kissing him soon on the lips where he uses his other hand to pull me flush up against him.

Around us the noises of the Harbour and the Marketplace reach my ears – Market stallers shouting out the wares; dock workers heading up and down ramps on ships delivering various goods back and forth and Baldurians going about their daily lives – but I’m not listening to it, just relaxing to kiss my ‘Mate’ is giving me.

Finally pulling back from it, licking my lips at his taste, I smile softly up to him slipping one hand down to clasp my fingers with his, while we soon begin to make our way to the Tavern called 'Whispering Weave' to share a last moment drink before going our separate ways.

Discovering that Halsin had a ‘brother’ of some kind is unexpected, because he never mentioned anything about having a family until now so meeting them – who wears long black thief clothing with hood included, plus bone-white mask hiding their face – along with a little fae child called Lesia, it is taking me some time to try and make sense of them.

I can tell they are like me almost – a Predator fighting their own instincts to attack the presence of another Predator in front of them.

Deciding to introduce myself is the better option of being silent and not saying anything to them.

“You have a beautiful child.” I comment, making them turn their gaze to me.

Body language still showing signs of wariness but relaxing enough to respond back to me.

“She’s….Thank you…Umm…” they begin to say, allowing me to introduce myself. “…Astarion Ancunin, a pleasure to meet you…”

“Asdalen.” They nonchalantly reply, causing Halsin to lower the little one wanting to say something but closes his month instead like he knows it may not help the both of them.

Torn between the awkwardness I’m sensing rising between them both, I decide to relieve it by deciding to say something which is mundane yet helps "I'm famished. How about we all get a bite to eat and all have a good chat together. Maybe even hear some of your lute music, Asdalen.' clapping both my hands together seeing how Lesia jumps up and down at hearing the words 'bite to eat' pulling her adopted father's sleeve.

Halsin having composed himself, slips his arm around my waist to pull me against his side and giving me a certain look of 'I didn't know you had an interest in music' it makes my chest ache at the look he gives me. The sudden thought is that I want to know everything about him - how he become Archdruid, what was his childhood like, how did he find out about his brother - and his brother.

Repair what feels like a fragile relationship between them which could easily be broken anytime.

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Location - Baldur's Gate, Sword Coast, Western Heartlands - 'Whispering Weave' Tavern near the Harbour - Mid-Morning

Asdalen’s P.O.V:

“Have you been travelling far?”

“Only to certain areas. There’s been some places refusing travellers entry.”

Drunken laughter, chatter and clinking of mugs fills the air with myself and Lesia sitting with Halsin and Astarion in an alcove at the far back of the Tavern where Astarion sitting next to my half-brother is asking me about my travels.

Most of what I tell him is about how on my travels where noticed Missing Poster had been appearing a lot; some places were wary of new travellers due to whispers about raise of Cultists and more monsters beginning to appear in certain areas.

“I see. To admit, I’ve not noticed….that kind of thing due….” Astarion begins to say only tail off, taking a sip of the wine he’s ordered with Halsin moving a hand to place it over his – squeezing it lightly to reassure the pale, High elf who gives weak smile.

‘You’ve been hiding in the shadows for too long.’ I state internally, not saying it out loud lest the Gur Hunters sitting only a few feet away from where we’re sitting overhear and come over to investigate.

Halsin, is happy. A soft, warm glow Lesia describes it to me in silent communication which reassures my brother will be alright in the relationship he has with Astarion leaving me to think of one person who I miss the most – Gale Dekarios, my lover and chosen Mate.

Where is he now?

Is he coping?

Has he returned to Waterdeep?

“Bard, do you play?” A new voice asks of me, leaving the internal questions in my head unanswered, so turn my face to the source seeing a figure wearing fine refine stands there indicating to the lute in the holder on my back.

“I play, yes. It depends on the crowd though and what they would like to hear.” I reply, seeing the newcomer raise one delicate eyebrow in amusement at it. “And you…. what would you like to hear?” asking them a question back to them.

“Me?! Well, let’s see…” They reply, bringing one hand up to tap their chin in deep thought until give small smirk at me. “How about an original composition. I believe this one should suffice ‘Beautiful Voice of the Past’ for you, Bard.”

A violent visible shudder goes through me, Astarion placing his hand on my arm to pull me back down into my seat – I hadn’t realised I had stood up to confront the newcomer – my mind torn in how they knew about the song – a song I composed only for Gale and no-one else – and who played it.

“I don’t play it for crowds.” I whisper under my breath, voice breaking with so much emotion I get back up with Lesia sensing I need to leave allowing me to pick her up.

Politely excusing myself when brush past the newcomer, I weave through the patrons and tables to reach the main Tavern door or would have if it hadn’t been for sudden explosion sending myself and her still in my arms flying backwards over the Tavern bar into the alcohol drink-rack hard.

Followed by tinkling noise of smashed apart bottles of wine, beer and brandy to name a few.

The wooden shelf collapses under my weight, forcing my body to fall to the floor in wounded, bleeding heap of a mess with Lesia beginning to whimper in my arms – her little fae body fading in and out focus due to being very frightened of what is happening – seeing the blurred image of the Tavern patrons running out in all directions only to be cruelly snatched up by what appear to be Mindflyers.

Another explosion rocks the tavern, sending shockwaves through the floorboards which begin to crack and splinter in all directions – sending shards of wood flying in all directions – feeling below me the wooden floor give out on myself with Lesia being wrenched out of my arms by something leaving me to fall into the blackness of the underground cellar.

The faint roars of my Brother’s Wildshape, Lesia crying out my name again and again reach me with Astarion lunging himself towards the collapsed hole made by the falling floorboards to grab hold of my wrist trying in vain to pull me back up – even though I can see he’s struggling due the wounds he’s ascertained.

“Asdalen, quick…..give me your other hand before the next wave hits!!!? It seems to be full-scaled attack on Baldur’s Gate!!!? We need….NO!!!! GET THE HELL AWAY ME…!!!!?” He cries out, only to panic heavily looking over at something or someone I cannot see due to my disadvantaged angle.

A fast, but to me blurred, inky-black shadow speeds it's over to him in such a blink of an eye to knock him over to the other side, leaving me with nothing to grab hold onto to help pull me back up to safety.

Falling for quite some time, I finally reach the bottom of what turns out to be the underground lower cellar for the Tavern with sickening, bone-crunching thud – worse agony than what my own people, the Drows have done to me – it shatters everything instantly, finding myself going limp at it immediatly.

So, this is how I die?

Separated from my half-brother who just met again?

I never got to even tell him…..everything……

Halsin…..Astarion……Lesia…

My thoughts wander in my head, my body is lying shattered beyond compare and any chance of moving is not probable with how serious my injuries are from the shards of glass embedded in it and large wood splinters.

My blood can distantly feel is pooling out from underneath my body or over it to trickle off it to cover the cobbled stones of the cellar in various array of crimson petals.

The unknown, uncontrolled side seems to be gleefully laughing in my head at the demise – death by falling, shattering every bone in my body and allowing my lifeforce to drain away.

It's the last thing I hear before blackness swoops in dark like raven’s wings and I remember nothing thereafter.

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[thelunarsystemwrites]

The berry Grove Masterpost!

A berry perfect paradise, with endless sweet fruits to much on, and you can wash it all down with some berry flavored milk!

Of course, not everyone gets to live in such a place, banishment can happen.

All the berry sanses have ecto, which colour will depend on what berry they are.

All berry sanses are born from the berry bushes, that's why they're themed after berries.

They also have berry related powers.

Nightmare + the bad sanses were all banished.

Lust is the leader of the Grove.

They all smell like a berry dessert.

Strawberry, blueberry, and other berry cows exist. Each sans has one as a pet.

DESIGNS:

Lust.

Blue

Dust.

More coming soon.

INFO:

Info dump.

[elianas-cozycorner]

𝓞𝓷 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼 | 𝓢𝓬𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓰𝓮 (2022)

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦 | 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘦𝘣𝘵𝘴

Dedicated to @the-house-of-auditore-frye

Summary: In a world where single mothers and working, low-class women are shunned, how can an unwed seamstress survive? With piling debts and the Christmas season underway, there's nothing worse than adding hopeless, one-sided love to your troubles. Pining after your lender and local miser, Ebenezer Scrooge, can only lead you to ruin. Right?

Author's Note: Hello, all!

This little project came to be because of Frye's post requesting a Scrooge fiction. Please be aware that, as much as I absolutely adore this man and the film, this is my first time writing for Ebenezer. Because I wanted this to be as enjoyable as possible, I spent about a week researching the Victorian Era (everything from coinage to etiquette). That being said, I will try my best to make this historically accurate while also being canon compliant. There is also a jump from past tense to present tense in this chapter, denoted by a cut.

Because the story's plot is mostly fleshed out, I will be trying my best to give you all weekly updates. I have kept or changed a manner of things I saw fit to, but largely kept to the user's storyline. I did give the reader a last name to save my sanity (I also do not use Y/N)! If anyone is interested in the parts of Victorian culture I reference, I'll start leaving notes at the end of chapters.

Word Count: 1558

Ao3 - Mature Rating

Warnings: Period Typical Attitudes/Sexism, Victorian Era

The smell of pine and freshly baked goods swirled in the otherwise polluted London air. A soft breeze tussled ladies’ bonnets and ruffled the cravats of refined gentlemen, the perfect reprise from the muggy smog. With the workhouses and factories tucked just beyond view, prevented from covering the shopping district in coal dust, the street was filled with last minute shoppers and happy couples. Christmas was naught but a short eve away and the holiday cheer was perfectly contagious. Women, accompanied by their mothers and sisters, walked along the newly cleaned sidewalks. Occasionally they would break out in conversation among themselves, whether over a charming gentleman across the way or a new shipment of ribbons advertised on a storefront. Poormen and servants wandered about the stalls in the street, collecting food from the grocers or mead from the brewers. The steady clopping of hooves and the calls of pauper boys selling their papers only added to the busy atmosphere of the shopping district. 

The noise was close to overwhelming for some. One such gentleman walked alone, steel tipped cane clicking loudly against the cobblestone. Occasionally the man would pull his top hat further down his temple, adjust his upturned collar closer to his face, or grumble under his breath at the ineffectiveness of his overcoat. If one were to watch him long enough, they might see him pull a watch from his pocket and check its time against the clock tower’s. He avoided every sign of cheer, failed to acknowledge any gentlewoman he crossed paths with, and refused to return the Christmas wishes thrown his way. 

So bothered by the joyous atmosphere was he that, at his next convenience, he ducked into an alley. There he took a moment to sigh deeply and adjust his evening wear. The permanent scowl across his face was not dissuaded by the huff of breath against his knee.

The man looked down, “Prudence.”

The large, wrinkly mastiff at his feet looked up at the mention of her name. She focused on him, waiting for the graying man to continue. But she did not receive further acknowledgement. Instead, her human took up a brisk pace and exited the alleyway. Set on reaching his destination, the man did not expect to run into a pair of caroling urchins. Nor his nephew shortly after. 

“Uncle Ebenezer, is that you?”

“And to think,” The man growled under his breath, ducking behind a vendor’s stall. “That I should be granted any semblance of peace on such a wretched eve.”

There was a moment of silence and the grouch did not see his nephew’s figure again. “That was close–”

“Uncle! It is you, I knew it!” The cheerful gentleman appeared before him as if teleported by God himself.

Ebenezer Scrooge, cold hearted and lacking patience toward his relative as he was, couldn’t help the obvious annoyance that overtook his features. “Harry–”

“Merry Christmas!” Harry smiled broadly and extended his hat forward in greeting. It was a gesture that Scrooge did not return, favoring instead a scowl and exaggerated eye roll. 

Unfazed by his uncle’s uncouth manner and blatant disrespect, Harry continued on to greet the giant hound at Scrooge’s hip. They engaged in a rather splendid moment, Prudence preening under the kind affections Harry offered. The men exchanged a few short words until the clocktower sounded out, catching their attention. Scrooge smiled gleefully then, a truly cruel and unashamed sort of glee. 

“Out of time, Jenkins,” He turned to face his nephew. “As unpleasant as this encounter has been, Harry, I must bid my goodbyes. I have much to do before the clock strikes the sixth hour of the eve, many debts to collect. Be ye well, God bless you.” He extended his hat, bowing slightly at the waist. 

“Oh, but Uncle–” Harry was cut off as the gray haired man turned down the way. He shared a puzzled look with their canine companion before following suit.

“Uncle, wait! Perhaps, if it will not inconvenience you, I may join you for your final collection.” The request is polite enough, if not a bit hesitant. 

“I suppose you are about to tell me that it would be mutually beneficial to engage in such an excursion together,” Ebenezer Scrooge sighed deeply. “However noble the intention, my good boy, I am about on business –”

“As am I,” The response came from his left. “I have several gifts to acquire before the shops close for Christmas Eve, and I set out with the intent to meet you in the office. Your office.”

“Yes, you said as much.” The ebony cane tapped rhythmically against the cobbles underfoot. “If it is your will, I will not dissuade you. However, I will dismiss you immediately should you encroach upon my time.”

“Of course, as to be expected.”

“Expected?” A large, well maintained eyebrow shot up.

Harry floundered for a moment, unsure if he had crossed a line or poked a nerve. “I only meant that this excursion is as much about business for me as it is for you. ”

“Hmm. Christmas gifts. A pointless waste of coin and effort. Say,” Scrooge turned to face the other man then, halting in the middle of the walkway. “Should not your servant fetch these things?”

“They are preparing Christmas Eve Dinner! It is only right that they spend some time with their families come the morn, so the house will be hosting–” 

-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷

With his cane tucked under his arm, Ebenezer Scrooge adjusts his gloves in the doorway of Jenkin’s Toy Shoppe. His newly edited ledger sits heavily in his vest pocket: 50 pound – Jenkins, due Boxing Day. It gives him great pleasure to know that he will collect double the expected sum of Jenkin’s dues. So much so, the man does not register the fact that he is leaving Prudence in the care of his nephew as he exits the store. He is already tired of the social scenes and obligations placed upon him by society; what with enduring a continued human presence and being accosted by some unlicensed charity band.

‘The nerve,’ He thinks, once again checking his watch. ‘ Twenty past the hour already?"

He lets the cane drop back into his hand, using it for stability in the ice and snow. He has one last destination before he can retreat to his office: Louwermon’s Tailor and Dress Shoppe. A quaint little place on an industrial corner, hidden amongst the poorest rabble and unkempt developments. Originally owned by a stately old man, the clothing store often employed the lowest-class women and occasional middle-class seamstress. Now, after his passing and with shirts going for 7 pence a dozen, only one woman was left. The store and all of Louwermon’s earthly debts left unto her. 

Scrooge cringes slightly at the thought, bringing his gloved hand to cover a breast pocket. Louwermon hadn’t even been her father. How a woman with so little prospects and devastatingly meager income had been allowed, by the courts no less , to keep the shop was beyond him. He knew she worked day and night, nearly twelve hours each day, to pay her late employer’s debts. That much he approved of, her timeliness and portly manner. But lately, come the winter season, such timeliness had given away to shortchanged dues and even missed payments. That, to the old miser, was the most unacceptable thing about her. 

Lost in thought as he is, Scrooge is surprised when muscle memory encourages him to grip a familiar knob. The door handle, when he looks up to confirm, does indeed belong to the storefront of Louwermon’s Tailor and Dress Shoppe . With his right hand occupied with the door, he reaches for his ledger with the left. He wants nothing more than to make this trip quick. 

When he finally steps across the threshold, a warm gust of air and the chime of a bell greet him. A fire roars in a hearth to the back of the front room, keeping it warm for customers. In the furthermost right corner there is an area sectioned off for fittings, more an alcove than a proper room. Several dresses sit on the till counter and a rack of men’s shirts line the most immediate wall. A couple mannequins to his left host unfinished coats and suits, while the store windows are arranged to display seasonal accessories. However, despite all the garments, he does not spot the store’s owner.

He stands alone for several long moments, watching the time tick by on his pocket watch. He strains his ears to hear the clicking of the hands, taps his cane a couple times, and tries to tame his impatience by looking around the room. He waits, and waits. Eventually, Scrooge’s patience runs out. Indignant at being left to loiter, he clears his throat as loudly as the dry air will allow. 

“I’ll say, Ms. Blackwood, this is certainly no way to run an establishment!” 

From some room in the very back, Scrooge hears a clattering sound and the rushing of footsteps. The creaking of the door is accompanied by a small murmur of pain. Well worn hands brace themselves against the doorframe and gentle eyes meet stern ones. In her eyes there is a hint of fear and he knows then that she will ask for another extension. 

‘Will I give it?’ He wonders. 

[apatheticcinaroll]

I'm sorry for not posting any fics for a month...

Despite that, I am proud to present: The Serventines.

Rating: T             No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship(s): Sans/Sans (basically all of them)

Character(s): Sans Ensemble (i don't feel like typing them all out again)

Wordcount: 4491         Chapter Count: 1/?

Additional (Serious) Tags:

Lmao gay skeletons, Angst, this is necessary, Fluff ,Betrayal, Secret Organizations, Immortality, Shapeshifting, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Doctors & Physicians, Sans is a Mess (Undertale), Sans (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Polyamory, Dream and Shattered are (technically) different people, Moon and Nightmare are (technically) different people, Couch Cuddles, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

[peacehopeandrats]

So You Want To Build A Sex Room - Chapter 2

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard

Characters: Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Prince Charming | David Nolan

Additional Tags: Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: With the final battle won, everyone in Storybrooke is settling down into their same old routines, which means that life for some has become a little mundane. Knowing Rumple better than the other citizens do, David approaches him to assist in making a special gift for Snow: a sex room. Rumple and Belle help the Charmings and discretely gain a reputation as the go to couple for exploring sexual encounters.

Based on the Netflix show How To Build A Sex room. You will get more tags as the chapters come along.

Read previous chapters on AO3

So You Want To Build A Sex Room - Chapter 2, David and Snow, Pt 2

It was severely tempting to leave David out in the pre-dawn light, but that was the old Rumplestiltskin, the man who fought against darkness every day. The new Rumple, the man who was a loving husband and father… the Savior… Well, that wasn't his style. He entered the shop and went directly to the side door, swiftly flicking the lock and raising the shade just enough to signal his waiting friend that the deed was done.

He didn't wait around for the man to appear, however. Anyone who was that nervous about being seen was going to take their time. Sneaking around a small town like Storybrooke wasn't easy, after all, especially when everyone knew your name.

"All right, Gold. I need your help." David's voice entered the shop before he did, bursting in through the opening in a rush. The man slipped in through an impossibly narrow crack, then silently shut himself inside, breathing a sigh of relief once it was done.

"And as I said, I'm intrigued, but I don't dabble in darkness or deals any more. I have my son back and Belle has agreed to stay. They've made me a new man." He felt his hand drift to his chest and settle over his heart, then breathed in the relief of knowing all of those words were the truest they had ever been.

read more on AO3

[gibbearish]

love when ppl defend the aggressive monetization of the internet with "what, do you just expect it to be free and them not make a profit???" like. yeah that would be really nice actually i would love that:)! thanks for asking

[soulmvtes]

it's about the small acts of intimacy... forehead kisses, putting jewelry on you, rubbing your hand with their thumb, putting a jacket on you, touching your necklace, running your hands through their hair, wiping away their tears, peeling them an orange, un/zipping their dress, tying their shoelaces, holding hands, removing an eyelash from their cheek, washing their hair, putting an anklet on them, tucking their hair behind their ear, sorting out their collar, untangling their necklaces, drinking out of a cup in their hands

[saelestia]

"MY MAN"

four characters who make you yell "MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN" !! I'll go first !

thought this was a silly idea keep it going! tagging ; @rrairey @httpshujii @cindol @seneon @cheriiyaya @accidentcache @suntoru and anyone else wanting to participate !

[spotsupstuff]

day 22 and 25 -looks at date- or at least inspired by them

[journey-to-the-attic]

(有点晚的) 新年快乐!

happy (a little belated) lunar new year!! sorry i haven't been answering asks, been a busy week - i'll try to get to that tomorrow ^^

[unknownmusing]

Adoribull Fanfic: 'When a Thread of Fate Brings Two People Together'

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

Plot Summary:

A story of how a Mage and Qunari who are both of different races slowly over time as they spent having adventures together begin to develop something more between them.

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

Prologue - 'The Beginning of a Thread of Fate Weaving between Two Different Races to Join Them Together' (Part 1 of ?)

Location - Un-named river some distance from Redcliffe Village - Hinterlands, Ferelden - Late Evening

In an area surrounded by meadow grass and wildflowers, while a river winds it way through mountainous region a few feet away, Dorian Pavus flicks through the tome he picked up on his travels using the light from the crackling camp-fire to illuminate the pages so he can read them - some of the writing is faded over time with other parts missing paragraphs but the diagrams helped understand the spells being mentioned.

So absorbed in his reading of the tome he doesn't hear his second companion travelling with him approaching the camp, until a thud of something heavy lands close-by making him lift his head to see some kind of wild boar lays there - though looking more mutated and hybrid-looking - then flicks his gaze up to his large companion who's reached for a large carving knife to sharpen it with a whetstone.

"Don't worry, I know which cuts to get that won't make us ill." Iron Bull - a Beast of the the Qunari - states to Dorian who's wondering if should decline in eating but his stomach betrays him by choosing to grumble indicating he's hungry.

This makes the large Qunari chuckle at him, standing up to pick up the wild boar's body to take it over to the branch of tree to begin skinning it - removing the fur; other parts which are inedible and finally cutting it so effeciently and effortlessly that Dorian forgets for a moment Iron Bull has murdered various people in similar ways as he watches the sight of the minotaur working away.

The slope of the large muscles shifting, every soft way the hands slide over the dead boar's body testing to see which way to cut and turning it to check the other side of it that gulping slightly, Dorian shuts the tome to place in his travelling pack and getting up heads down to river needing some space.

His mind begins to flood with so many images, he quickly places a clenched fist in his mouth to silence any sounds - this was frankly embarassing, he's acting like a young randy male seeing a female they like but don't want to admit - when he reaches the beach-area nearby the river curve so that Iron Bull can't pick them up, his other resting over his abdomen close to his groin.

"Control yourself, Dorian…..Control yourself…..you hate his Race…..remember….." He mutters under his breath, only for sudden image of him and the beast embraced in such a way his clenched fist moves away from his mouth to grip his shoulder and other cup himself between his thighs arching slightly when unexpected heat floods through him at it.

He moans breathlessly to his shame, horror and embarassment knowing that the Qunari would pick it up with their acute hearing only to sink down onto the sandy ground lying back to begin to rub himself through his breeches, thighs quivering intensely and mind flooding with so many images, whispers and sensation of being embraced he can't help but let out mewling breathless gasps, pants and whimpers.

What is happening to him?

Why was heat flooding throughout his system like his body had realised he was compatible with the Qunari when records stated it wasn't possible for a Beast of the Qunari to be compatible with a Human and other species and only their own.

Was it because of when they met that fateful rainfall night the touch from the Qunari had left an imprint and somehow they both become compatible?

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

 PART 1 - 'How the Thread First Formed Between Two'

Location - Tevinter Imperium - Nothern Thedas, Minrathous - Approaching Late Evening 

2 Years Earlier

Rain is falling down heavily on the streets of Tevintar Imperium in Northern Thedas, Minrathous, drowning out the sounds of scuffle going on between four people – the fourth trying to make dash for it, an alleyway between two large buildings briefly becoming illuminated by an eerie light which fades away when they are knocked over before can get out of the alleyway where curses in native Tevene begin to fill it.

“Maybe we should gag him for good measure. This….fucking mage as a mouth on him doesn’t he.”

“Just remember his….the Magister Pavus I mean wants him alive.”

“Heh, yeah good coin being paid for escorting this….”

Dorian Pavus – son of Halward Pavus and Aquinea Thalrassian – finds him struggling in vain to get away from the larger of the Hired Thugs pinning him down onto the alleyway ground mostly grinding to his vain his face into it, discussing with the other two thugs debating on what do with him.

It is a handful of days since he run away from his home and for good intentions and reasons, he never wanted to set foot there again. Surrounded by something which had started to become the equivalent of a gilded cage which he begins to wonder would ever be able to get out of.

“Heh, seems our Mage here is being a little too quiet.” One of the Hired Thugs notes, squatting down in front of him to reach out to grab hold of the back of his head by his hair wrenching it upwards to force him to look at harsh, unforgiving cold eyes. “What you thinking about? Way to escape?”

Glaring back, Dorian refuses to answer resulting a hand immediately slapping him across the face so hard it leaves his ears ringing and splitting his lower lip in the process allowing blood to trickle down the side of his lip and chin closely followed by a hand grabbing hold of his chin to dig their nails harshly into his cheeks when they say their next words.

“You know I always hated Vint’s like this, Pompous, arrogant and vain. Only thinking about themselves.”

Brought up onto his feet, Dorian wonders if can summon a quick spell – one that will get rid of the Hired Thugs - when a gruff, deep voice interrupts it sends prickles up and down him in a such a way it felt like when one meets their Soulmate for the first time and their coloured Soul Threads connect.

“And does that count for yourself as well."

A very large, tall figure stands there at the entrance to the alleyway wearing a faded hooded cloak looking straight at the Hired Thugs surrounding him.

"So......Did you miss me?" Is the first words from the large hooded figure - who after the brief glimpse Dorian had seen of their face when they were fighting is a Qunari who looks oddly familiar and bringing back a memory of night at a Masked Party, an embrace in large arms and so much unexpected overstimulation it was feat he managed to get up to leave in the morning - as he leans against the alley brick-wall with his arms crossed over his chest and staff back in its holder on his back.

Sighing heavily with one hand up coming to pinch the bridge of his nose he wonders how he answer the Qunari - the hulk of a beast who he had a one night stand with, before escaping from the guest bedchamber lest fear of scandal of being discovered bedding a Qunari - whose name he doesn't know, who is busy going through the Hired Thugs until finds one still alive.

"I...Don't have a clue what you mean by 'Did I miss you?' because 1. I don't know who you are and 2. What are you doing?" Dorian replies, watching the Qunari turn their hooded gaze to him before gets up, just after bounding their prisoner in tight ropes so the singled-out Hired Thug cannot escape, walking up to where he stands.

A hand slams beside his head onto the alley brickwall allowing for the hooded cloak to slip off slightly revealing one ash-grey hand covered in snaking ink-black tattoos at the sametime the Qunari presses closer to him it forces him to turn his face to one side to not look at them.

"You have to understand....you felt the sensation didn't you?" The Qunari asks him, referring of course to the feel of a Soul-Thread connecting him to their's making Dorian, blush so heavily it's no doubt showing on his face even in the dim moonlight alongside the promixity of them against his body.

"Vishante kaffas!! I have no idea what your talking about!!!? Now if you'll excuse me....I like to get on....mmfffff!!!?" Dorian begins to say, only for lips to smash into his before he can even protest or cast a spell sending a throbbing wave of something through the forming Soul Thread making him slump against their large body, feeling one hand slide around to embrace him and the other come up to cradle the back of his head.

His fingers twitch heavily, hands spasming before manages to wrench free stumbling down the alleyway to compose himself.

Dorian brings up to his slightly swollen lips a shaking hand - the Qunari had just kissed him!!!? Without even a warning, just did it to him.

Angry at the forcefulness of it he forms a lightening ball in one hand, turning fully around to face the Qunari standing there watching him to send it hurtling towards them choosing not to hang around to check if worked or not. 

His mind beginning to flood with a memory of a masked party, the mysterious large Qunari and everything else that had happened that fateful night as he keeps on running and running through the weaving alleyways and down empty streets passing by houses, shops and market stalls until out of one of the many large city gate's into the wildness of a land unknown to him. 

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

Notes:

This chapter deals with introducing the characters called Verikas - an elf who doesn't want to be an Inquisitor - and his friend Ku'rac who is a Qunari who in next chapter will soon meet Dorian and Iron Bull

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

Part 2 – The Beginning (1 of ?)

Location - The Fade also known as The Beyond - Location of Realm Unknown 

It is an quiet, eerie stillness of without sound which makes Verikas flutter his eyes open, faintly seeing the blurred large figure of his close friend Ku’rac – a Qunari who had become exiled from his people due to disagreements with them – lying close-by then his vision fully clears to reveal he is in the Fade.

Around wispy emerald mist raises in different areas, structures of crumbled elvish ruins float in the air way above - some facing upside down and others dissembling - then hears a pained groan coming from Ku'rac making him get up, stumbling slightly forwards swaying due to experiencing the Fade for the first time trying to remember what happened but all he is getting is fractured memories of group of people talking; a cloaked hooded figure wearing a mask with liliac vines on it and then a explosion of raw, untimed magical energy originating from somewhere.

"Ku'rac....Ku'rac...." Verikas reaching his friend calls out, trying to rouse the Qunari who gives pained groan with both his hands twitching - unclenching and clenching - until flutters his eyes open, gaze soon focusing on him with Ku'rac allowing him to help him to sit up

"Verikas, what.....the Maker just happened?!! Last thing I remember was watching you from the balcony about to state you don't want to be an Inquisitor then nothing afterwards!!" Ku'rac asks him so many questions he cannot give his friend any of the answers to, because even himself doesn't know them.

"I....have faint memory but will have to discuss it later. We need to get out of here." Verikas replies, his keen hearing picking up that they are not alone with him helping Ku'rac to stand up, followed by noticing a bright light in the distance.

Both agree that they should head towards it to investigate what it could be, quickly making their way across crumbling platforms; clambering up floating islands above them and coping with walking upside down or even sideways until finally reach a flight of stone-carved steps.

"Verika, spiders!!!?" Ku'rac calls out to him, pointing to mass of them skittering across over to where they are located he begins to run up the stairs only to trip over a step when a sudden and unexpected sharp, lightening-like pain radiates from his hand through every nerve ending he finds himself giving out a bloodcurdling scream.

His legs give out on him with Ku'rac sweeping in to grab hold to cradle in his large arms, running up the stone-carved steps where the light of the figure waiting seems to enamate outwards that Verikas doesn't remember what happens next.

Just the words 'You'll will live. The both of you' closely followed by blackness.

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

[radiance1]

Hi. I just had an idea about temporally misplaced Danyal Al Ghul.

Clockwork yoinked him after he was seriously injured and patched him up. Basically saved him. And then yeeted him to the past to be adopted by the Fentons.

So by the time Danny and Damian have a reunion Danny is in his late 20s at most, early 20s at the very least. And he is most definitely a shapeshifting magical eastern dragon with a cult and all that.

I do not make anything having to do with Danny being related to the Al Ghuls.

However

This gives me the foundation to do such a thing.

Alright, so we would need to find a reason why Clockwork would even want to help Danny in any sort of capacity since he wasn't being pushed to kill him because of the observants.

But what if the reason was because he needed someone to beat some sense into (and I am both sorry and not at all sorry for this) his husband turned tyrant turned sleeper soon into the future. Since in a few timelines Danny does beat Pariah Dark he just, decided to push him onto that path.

The perfect opportunity presented itself when Danny was heavily injured in a battle between brothers to decide the true heir, to which both was heavily injured actually, and yoinked him away, patched him up, and left it to the LoA to assume he was just dead after his body disappeared.

So then, following the timeline he foresees where he fought against Pariah, gently and carefully guided him along the timestream (For which to prevent the notice of other Masters of times) to a few years prior and landed him in the care of the Fentons.

Over the years he did gently nudge things here and there to have the Fenton's views on ghosts changing slowly, but surely, as thanks to the boy for unknowingly helping him.

Oh, and avoiding a disastrous future, he guesses.

Everything followed along with his plan, slowly coming to fruition until the boy knocked some sense into his husband, to which made him the new king of the Ghost Zone after the Observants deemed Pariah unfit to rule beyond this point anymore, and as a boon because he was unable to have the Crown and ring in Pariah's possession (given to Clockwork to watch over, so as to not have a repeat of Pariah Dark), he was granted the ability to turn into an eastern dragon at will.

Occasionally he sent the boy back into the past to right some wrongs, avoid disaster, and to occasionally collect the soon-to-be Duke after he found himself in the past. Though he does find himself (and his husband) amused at seeing the boy slowly having a cult built in his name.

Danny's honestly been living the good life, no longer being expected to succeed the League of Assassins and leaving it up to his twin, he was adopted by a new family who, while a bit eccentric was amusing nonetheless, and they did become a true, proper family after his reveal went exceedingly well!

He was 25 now, and decided to take a break from both his kingly duties, and Amity Park, his parents pushed him to take this as a well-deserved vacation and, since Jazz was also in Gotham, he could drop by and say hi to her!

Danny was a bit miffed about leaving the inner-workings of the Ghost Zone to Vlad, more so that it's him than anything. But he did at the very least trust the Duke's skill in making everything go as smoothly as possible and having him consumed in paperwork would stop his brooding over being unable to find that guy, he had a one-nighter with.

(He's honestly surprised anyone would do that, but he guesses people have... interesting tastes. Also, a brooding phoenix, to his displeasure, was far worse than a phoenix trying to woo his mother.)

So he stopped by Gotham, said hi to sister and decided to crash at her place for a while. Wandered around Gotham, seeing the sights, tasting the food, talking to people.

A very good vacation, in his books.

So now what was he supposed to do, when he found his vacation interrupted by what was undoubtedly his twin along with the goddamn Wayne's showing up in his sister's apartment.

They gave him a jumpscare of a lifetime, honestly. But also couldn't they do this somewhere else? Like, a coffee shop, perhaps?

[theharlotofferelden]

So I was checking out Greg Ellis' IMDB page to see if he's been in anything recently. I mainly wanted to know if the whole blowup between him and Mark Darrah 3 years ago that resulted in him making a YouTube video speaking in Cullen's voice while beseeching the Dragon Age fandom to rise up against Cancel Culture affected his career in any way.

This was swiftly forgotten, however, due to the fact that I got really caught up in the wall of text that is his Mini Bio.

It's a lot, right? Usually when I see bios on IMDB they're less than a paragraph. But what got me was the inclusion of all these weird details. How Greg "mastered the Rubik's cube at 12" and that he's "skydived 10,000 feet above the earth" (so? ppl skydive, man, why is this important). But then there's this mention that he has over 20 action figures of characters he's portrayed in film and television. Like... seriously? This is really worth including in your IMDB Bio? Then right at the bottom it says the Bio was written by PR which lol

Anyway, I didn't post on tumblr dot com just to dunk on all the questionable details Greg PR decided to include in his IMDB.

What I wanna talk about is this lil detail here:

Now, I've read his IMDB bio a couple times over the years and have never really questioned whether Greg was truly nominated for an Emmy. Like, who tf would lie about being nominated for an Emmy? But then I started wondering what the Emmy was for (seeing as how he neglects to mention it in his bio) so I decided to do some digging into what he was nominated for.

Doing a general google search turned up nothing so I decided to try his website to see if he supplies more details, and he does.

Again, he neglects to mention what the nomination was for, but says that he was nominated for his role on 24. So naturally I did a search for 24 Emmy nominations.

It is at this point I become aware that the Emmys have not only dedicated pages for shows that have won Emmys, but also a search function.

Guess whose name isn't listed on 24's Emmy Award page?

Guess whose name doesn't reveal any results for even something as basic as an Emmy nomination?

Even under his legal name? Or the other version of his legal name?

Okay, so maybe they just neglected to add him on the 24 page. If Greg was nominated for anything, it would most likely be under "Outstanding Supporting Actor In A Drama Series" as he was a guest actor for 9 episodes of the show (as Michael Amador) between 2003 and 2004.

He's not listed in the nominees for 2003, 2004, or even 2005 (just to be generous). And since I bothered to look it up just to double check, here's a YouTube video for every year in this category: 2003, 2004, 2005.

-------

While all this may seem like a bit much just to emphasize that Greg is lying about an Emmy nomination, I need it to be understood that I did my best trying to verify its existence. On the off chance it turns out the nomination exists somewhere, let it be known I'll delete this post and apologize for misinforming people.

But I just gotta say, if it's not on the Emmy's website or even his own Wikipedia page, then where tf is it? Like, I get that Wikipedia isn't a totally reliable source, but Gregory Itzin, who actually was nominated twice on 24 as a supporting actor, has it not only mentioned on his wikipedia page, but also has one of his nominations sourced (if you click on the link it will download a PDF).

So until proof that he was ever nominated turns up, I'm going to assume he's lying about it. Which is funny when you consider he's not even lying about winning an Emmy, he's lying about being nominated for one. He's lying about losing an Emmy. Like, could you imagine if Tommy Tallarico lied about almost being on MTV Cribs?

Anyway please reblog this post and feel free to steal it because I find this extremely funny and would love it if someone asked Greg why the internet isn't turning up results for his Totally Real Emmy Nomination.

ETA - Adding a link to @aidanchaser pointing out that it seems like Greg is claiming he was nominated under the categories for "outstanding casting in a drama series" and/or "outstanding drama series" based on what he says about the nomination on his website, along with my reply as I was aware of those nominations but didn't make the connection between them and what he says on his website.

I'm only going to add here that his claim to this nomination is a huge stretch because, by similar logic, if 24 actually won either of those nominations, basically anyone who worked on 24 could claim that they're an Emmy award winning guest actor or production designer, which entirely misrepresents the award being given as it hollistically takes into account various parts of the casting and production. Like, there's a reason there's separate categories for this stuff, and the fact that he seems so comfortable making this claim on his IMDB that he's an "Emmy nominated actor" based on those nominations is such a wild stretch.

And it's clear to me this obfuscation was intentional because he could've easily said that he worked on the "Emmy award winning show, 24" because that's more accurate to the truth of his involvement with the production (i.e. that he worked on a show that won muliple awards). But specifically claiming he was "nominated" lends credence to the notion that he was nominated specifically for his work while still technically being true (despite that claim being bullshit).

[baemon-ivy]

✶ ׅ ࣪ ᧔♡᧓ ࣪ LIST OF BLOGS THAT INSPIRED ME TO START MY OWN. I LOVE THEM & THEY ARE SO TALENTED

sorry for the unwanted tags

@nctsjiho @nct-mei @nct-nari @skzinka @i6gyu @lixiehugs @lightaflme @eisa-core @svt-rosalie @btsjeonggeun @btshoseong @btsnvra @bts-adore @ateezbiia @ateez-himari @ateezbiia @ateezivy @lesserafim-eden @svtminji @txt-ruby @txt-yaomi @txt-yuki @txtseora @twicesaebom @skz-jinnie @skz-iko @svt-zara @cafemilk-tea @itzy-eve @itzygee @enha-yumi @enha-roza @enha-mai @chiskz @skz-bibi @xoxkpop @xogaram @mazeofyeni @atz-ayla @girlzwfun @skz-suki @kbaemi @hshtag @bts-eunji

[peacehopeandrats]

So You Want To Build A Sex Room - Chapter 8

Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Prince Charming | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard

Characters: Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Prince Charming | David Nolan, Grumpy | Leroy, Nova | Astrid

Additional Tags: Storybrooke (Once Upon a Time), Friendship, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Summary: With the final battle won, everyone in Storybrooke is settling down into their same old routines, which means that life for some has become a little mundane. Knowing Rumple better than the other citizens do, David approaches him to assist in making a special gift for Snow: a sex room. Rumple and Belle help the Charmings and discretely gain a reputation as the go to couple for exploring sexual encounters.

Based on the Netflix show How To Build A Sex room. You will get more tags as the chapters come along.

Read previous chapters on AO3

So You Want To Build A Sex Room - Chapter 8, David and Snow, Part 6

The straps and chains that filled the box Rumple had been charged with unpacking were absolutely confounding. He knew that the chains hooked to the structure Belle had him fuse together, and that the straps would eventually untangle into a kind of swing, but he wasn’t at all sure how any of it was meant to go together. With a sigh he glanced over at Belle, partially hidden behind the staircase, putting smaller items up on a shelf for display. “I think you are going to have to explain to me how all of this works,” he called out to her, lifting the tangled mass from the cardboard that held it.

She set down her work and smiled. “I’ll come help you.” Within the blink of an eye she was at his side, helping him to unwind and untangle the pieces. “We need to spread the swing out first, then we can put up the chains and hook it all together, I think.”

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[archivists-notes]

Happy Otherstide to all those who celebrate, if you happen to be on Gallifrey during this time, here are some fun Otherstide-themed activities you can do:

Reenact the Origin of Otherstide with your friend group (fun way to get rid of anyone you don't like)

Climb the Citadel and shout about how Rassilon was an insecure old man who threw out his friend for no reason

Avoid the police and your House's disappointment afterwards

Join the Thirteenth Night Cult on accident (or on purpose, I'm not judging.)

And the greatest way to celebrate Otherstide; only for those who are truly dedicated to the festive spirit:

Get kicked off of Gallifrey

Hope this little guide helped give you ides for how to celebrate Otherstide this year!