#lordling

[dracourge]

slides the dragonborn a bomb. Do what you will with it.

The time had come. The people of Baldur's Gate needed to be reminded why they need stay so close to Gortash, their divine shepherd. They'd spoken of this for some time, but the time to speak was over. It was time to start.

[rhianna]

Lordling  -- Vocabulary Word

             lordling                                       

: a little or insignificant lord 

                                       First Known Use                                                                                    13th century, in the meaning defined above                                                                                                                                                                     Time Traveler                                    

   The first known use of lordling was in the 13th century   

See:  https://rhianna.tumblr.com/post/703659207729250304/riches-have-wings-or-a-tale-for-the-rich-and

Littlefinger gives Bran the Valyrian steel dagger that the cutthroat attempted to murder the lordling with in Episode 2, along with Littlefinger's version of the story.                                —                                                     Rena Gross, Billboard, 7 Aug. 2017        

“Lordling.” Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, Merriam-Webster, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/lordling. Accessed 14 Dec. 2022.

[enverwhoretrash]

hands behind back? slut behaviour

[oldschoolfrp]

Lordlings of Yore, 1983 fantasy strategy game for Apple II by Jon F Baxley and Softlore Corporation, rereleased in a limited edition box in 2018 (signature looks like "P Goyette")

[bruciemilf]

Okay, slightly spicy hours, but AU with kings' guard/knight Clark and spoiled prince Bruce.

Prince Bruce who's usually a cheeky little brat, yes, but always respectful and mindful of the way he treats staff. They aren't fearful to smack a wooden spoon over a pearly hand if grabby hands steal from the kitchen.

There's been numerous occasions where they had to drag him off by his ear after too many hours wasted playing street children. Alfred is particularly famous for controlling their little menace.

But still. They've never seen Bruce so DETERMINED to be a complete and utter handful before. He usually brats off to fellow princes, lords.

And they aren't half as beautiful as the armoured five course meal Thomas brought specially from Krypton.

Bruce who's bossy, throwing out " fetch me that, farm boy" left to right even if he's perfectly capable of being independent. Making Clark chase him around training grounds after refusing to stay for studies. Dropping a fork or a satin handkerchief and telling the poor man to pick it up.

The interesting and confusing part is...One might say Bruce is completely enamored by the man.

Harley swears she saw a plate of oranges and peaches left at Clark's doorsteps. Next to it, a note left with Bruce's elegant writing.

Oliver usually sees his friend in the library, but he rarely takes records and books with him, since he prefers the workshop. It's only after Bruce insists to straddle a knight during sparring sessions and Clark's room echoes with wails and screams does he get it.

Their Brucie was ill with love, and he had no idea what to do about it.

Posts brought to you by the Robert Pattinson needs to get pounded community

[clockworkreapers]

you cannot kill me in a way that matters

[jaythenugget]

finished up act 2 - started act 3 in my durge playthrough. literally feels like this

[winterprince601]

considering how often they have to go chasing after him in canon, i just KNOW modern au snow patrol are tired. someone has to be on jon-watch every time they go clubbing because one sip of alcohol activates his stark wolf hindbrain and he's off. sam then spends the next two hours in escalating panic as dolorous edd lists every dangerous and terrible thing that could be happening to him. eventually grenn always finds him drunkenly trauma dumping on a complete stranger (this is how jon makes 90% of his friends) and drags him home by the scruff of his neck. there's a betting pool on when pyp will snap and buy one of those toddler leashes. pyp tried this once. jon gnawed through it.

[cats-obsessions]

Dark Urge/Gortash

Just a Drabble I cant get out of my head- Durge is able to recover more of his memories along his travels back to Baldurs Gate, and Orin doesn’t bother telling Gortash that her kin has returned.

“Hello, Lordling”

The Dark Urge, Son of Bhaal, Nox leans back against the old, mahogany desk in his dear friend, Gortash’s office where he’s been waiting, ever patiently, for the tyrant to arrive.

It’s luxurious to a point Nox had once found gaudy, but the room gives him a warm feeling in his chest now.  Some parts of his memories echo through his empty brain as mere feelings and impressions. Some remain vivid, yet the bulk of what he could access shows glimpses of his life only in the months before Orin’s attack, but he knows they go deeper. Flashes of late night scheming, shared heists, interrogations, pools of blood, carefully plotted assassinations, then, the smell of avernus clinging to their skin amidst a first kiss. All of it went back to him- Gortash, not Bhaal. Not his fathers wishes or the Urge or even the temple. Everything in Nox’s empty brain was bringing him here.

He let his companions greet the new archduke on their own, but he watched from the shadows, the disappointment in Gortash’s eyes betraying the tyrant, but this was a meeting better had in privacy. The very same newly coronated archduke stands in front of him now for the first time in only the gods know how long.

“Fuck off,” Gortash grumbles, a tight frown on his face. The large double doors of the office swing closed behind him. As their eyes meet, Nox can see the extent of exhaustion that permeates the tyrant’s being. Circles much darker than usual shroud his near-black eyes. His hair had grown in the past two months, resting on his collarbones in disarray. Even the way he breathes sings of discontent.

Nox tilts his head, unmoving from his spot on the lord’s desk “Not the welcome home I was hoping for. I can understand your anger, but-”

“-Orin” the duke hisses sharply, “I have better things to do than this. As do you. Make yourself useful for once.”

Orin. Something in Nox’s chest sinks with the realization, “She’s been mocking you with my face? Gods- I’m going to kill that inbred little bitch the second I see her” he growls.

That earned a raised eyebrow from Enver, but the duke keeps wary eyes trained on his assassin “I’m not playing your games this time” he sighs.

“I assure you, Enver, I am not here to play games.”

Nox watches as Gortash moves across the room to his liquor cabinet against the wall, fine wood gilded in gold. The duke’s eyes stay trained on him, even as he begins to pour a glass of fine, amber whiskey. “Yes, yes, you will slash me in two, bathe in my blood, and what was it-” Gortash pauses to take a long, slow sip, sighing once again “-wear my intestines as a scarf? No matter- all the same, uncouth drabble with you.”

“Not until the end. And not like that. I won’t kill you until- unless we are the last two living in all the realm. First you, then me.” Nox clenches his fingers, his jaw tightening and untightening as he feels the images of Enver’s death set in behind his eyes. The Urge whispers for him to take the Banite now, but he knows better. He takes a slow, deep breath, reaching instinctively to the band around his wrist. He focuses on the feelings to ground himself for a moment before continuing. “I believe that was the promise I made you before- Well, things are hazy- a lobotomy does that to you.”

Enver stops, his glass half raised to his lips as his eyes widen. Nox can nearly see his thoughts, debates. He’s questioning if Orin could have such knowledge, if Orin could keep calm this long in a conversation, if Orin could push down her Urge. Nox gives a lopsided smile as he continues. “I don’t remember everything, but I remember you. I came back for you- to stand by you. As we are meant to be.”

It only takes a few seconds for Gortash to cross the room, his glass crashing into the golden tray below it, well abandoned; and Nox smiles, allowing his shirt collar to be grasped tightly in the duke’s hands. Gortash crowds his space, leering at him. There’s venom in his expression, but just below that lies hope.

“Prove it or die.”

How many times had Orin tried this? How many times did she dangle Nox in front of Enver? Did she pretend to return to him just like this? Or simply take his form to berate the tyrant lord? The thought makes the teifling’s blood boil. But he will save that rage for later.

Nox huffs out a chuckle, “If I were Orin, I would have my fucking dagger, and this goddamn tadpole wouldn’t be in my head, Enver.”

His words are enough, and Gortash yanks the collar of his shirt forward until they are pressed against each other, their lips colliding in a rough, forceful kiss that dissolves into desperation. For Nox, it’s familiar and new all at once as if he were acting out a scene he had only seen in a play; he knew Enver’s taste, his smell, the way he was rough and gentle all at once. Yet, feeling it rather than seeing it through a haze of lost memories and confusion was enough to make his knees weak.

“You have a tadpole in your head. You gods damned idiot.” Enver smiled against his lips, words devoid of venom. His hands move up to cup Nox’s face, warm gold of Gortash’s gauntlets pressing against his cheeks. “I have missed you so, my dearest.”

“I missed you, too.” Nox chuckles, and his cheeks warm up as if the words were meant to stay inside his mind- as if he was supposed to be ashamed by such thoughts, but the way Enver pulls him closer makes him think perhaps it is okay not to be ashamed about some things. Perhaps, whatever lingering worry circles in his mind from before does not matter anymore.

[dathen]

Art apologizing to Van Helsing for Van Helsing throwing him across the room by his neck “in case he was rude or in any way wanting” to merit it

It seems like Jonno isn’t the only one around here who would apologize to you if you spilled soup in his lap

[asleepinawell]

hmmmmm, only one thing to do in situations like these

[rhianna]

Riches have wings. In no country is this more strikingly true than in our own.

The social history of the world presents no era, nor any people, in which, and among whom, such sudden and remarkable changes in the possession of property have taken place.

The man who is worth a million to-day, has no surety that he will be worth a thousand to-morrow. Children who are raised amid all the luxuries that money can procure, too often, when they become men and women, are doomed to hopeless poverty; while the offspring of the poor man, who grew up, perhaps, in the hovel beside their princely mansion, is the money lordling of their darker day.

[slicedblackolives]

my personal theory of why characters like james bond and indiana jones and batman and the line cook in bear are sexy is that that particular rogue archetype combines working class male attributes of physical violence and manual labour with a bourgeoise genteelness so middle class viewers don't have to deal with the cognitive dissonance of finding male labouring bodies hot but not wanting to fuck poor people

[a-loving-ghost]

will wood in case i die.... save me...... save me in case i die will wood.....

[illarian-rambling]

Man, I feel kinda guilty writing these Avymere & Elsind's Excellent Adventure chapters because I really took these two ice dwellers from the fantasy alps and tossed them in the world's dustiest desert with only hardtack to eat and a single-person tent. Also, one of them tried to assassinate the other's dad and it's kinda hard to sweep that tidbit under the rug when you're sleeping literal inches away from each other

[daemon-in-my-head]

My toxic trait is that I've seen the epilogue exactly once.

Not cuz I don't finish the game, I did like 5-6 times, but cuz I always choose to embrace Bhaal or my Durges loose the duel with Orin (purposefully) and I have never finished a Tav run.

Also, that one time, the only people that lived to see the epilogue were Astarion, Shart and Minthara. And I have no regrets.