Sundae

They/Them 22 Multifandom

[enigmatic-blues]

Meet the Awkward Blogger? Yes, Okay Here's the Rundown

Name - Sunny 🎶 ☀️ 🎧

Age - 22 Yr Old (07/11)

Boundaries - DM friendly, tag friendly, and socially introverted so reach out.

NSFW & SFW on this blog. I'm an adult.

Titles I Like

We're All Going To The World's Fair, I Saw The TV Glow, The Binding of Issac, Critical Role, Dungeons and Dragons, Night in The Woods, Pokemon, Date Everything, (New to) Outlast Trials, Fallout, Skyrim, FNAF, MUSIC 🎵 🎧

HAVE A SUNNY DAY ☀️ 💙

[vampire-the-askerade]

VTMB 1 Sire headcanons

[also known as, “why I think the sires from the start decided to embrace the main character.”]

[also also, kinda nuts that I now have to specify between two games. Never thought that would actually happen. I have the second VTMB, but haven’t played it yet. Wanted to have another good play of the original before I do.]

Brujah- The reason that the Brujah decided to sire the main character was an effort to make more people to fight against the Camarilla. They were working on their own, which is the reason there wasn’t too much of an ordeal from the others about them dying. There would be no way that Nines would let one of his own get taken out by LaCroix that easily (as seen through the end of VTMB where the fledgling has sided with the Last Round Anarchs where the only thing keeping him from helping is the fact that he just got mauled by a werewolf). Seeing the vampire getting executed was like, “play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” in his mind. As for LaCroix calling the sire an, “upstanding member of the community,”: he knows that a Brujah is almost certainly an Anarch, and he needed to downplay that as much as possible for political reasons. Nothing says boundary breaking as much as publicly executing someone from the other side.

Gangrel- Honestly, they just didn’t care. In fact, them getting caught wasn’t even something that they thought was a possibility. Most Gangrel leave their childer soon after embrace, so they thought they were just going to be on their way out of the town, maybe even before the night was over. They were just drifting through town, and aside from doing some odd jobs here and there, they kept to themselves. Turns out the guy they did the jobs for happened to be a rather controlling prince that didn’t take kindly to being disregarded.

Malkavian- They saw that the main character and knew that they would be important to the kindred of the area. While they didn’t know anything exact, their premonitions about them are too strong to ignore. They acted quickly to be sure that main character was turned, and that they were in a position to let them know what they needed to. Unfortunately, acting this quickly also kept them from going through the proper channels, leading to their capture and execution. While they certainly weren’t trying to get themselves killed, they were able to find some peace in knowing that they had set something remarkable into motion.

Nosferatu- Pure hubris, honestly. They knew that there was a law against unapproved embracing, but seeing as they were able to get you to agree to a date, they had to see how far they could go. They were also aware that if they were caught then there was no way the other Nos were going to do anything. While there is a strong sense of community between the Nosferatu clan, they’re also very no nonsense when it comes to not risking many unlives over a single one. Still, they knew that they had something of bragging rights with the others for the short time that they still had their head.

Toreador- They simply got carried away. They started out trying to impress Abrams by showing their prowess of the Toreador’s power; they weren’t supposed to actually embrace the main character, at least not until a long time later. But, as we see in the start of the game, there was something sexual going on between the two; one of the reasons that many kindred don’t think they should partake in sexual activity is they don’t want to do anything they think might make them lose control. After they had almost drained the main character, they had a, “when in Rome,” moment and decided to go ahead with the embrace. Unlucky for them, their antics had also gained the attention of other kindred, who all agreed that the Masquerade would benefit from no longer having someone so brazen poking at its seems.

Tremere- They were told to. All Tremere are important to The Pyramid; sometimes that importance is strengthening the base by lying down their life, allowing their ashes to be made into the bricks to solidify the beloved structure. In this case, there needed to be a unique type of new blood for specific purposes. They were calmed by the knowledge that Regent Strauss would take the childe they would never know, and treat them as though they were his own.

Ventrue- They just hated LaCroix. They knew the risk they were taking, but they were feeling too petty to care. There was something cathartic knowing that they could set every last one of the prince’s nerves on fire by having a betrayal so close to home. They had the satisfaction of knowing that even though they were going to have a very public final death, he would never feel fully safe anywhere, not even his tower, ever again.

[izzypup77]

We have the man from the window.

Then we have the woman from the door

Then the non-binary rat from the floor boards

[yanderemommabean]

Do things badly.

Fuck up the way you paint your nails. Fuck up how you dye your hair. Laugh as you realize you missed a massive step in making bread. Scribble terribly in your notebook and CSP. Snort at how ugly the first clay figure you make is. Add glitter. Add spice. Make the wrong choice and laugh about how bad it got. Embrace that you're new and mistakes are needed. Embrace that you're a veteran and mistakes are always going to be there.

There's no cameras. The world isn't watching every eraser mark and every misstep. The universe loves you and loves seeing you learn in the way and time that you need. The stars love to see how you laugh and show off the good AND the bad.

Breathe love into yourself and your works by knowing perfection is fake. Even the most laughable of mess ups is still something to keep trying, fully loving what you do.

[sufferingandasense]

[snailtongue]

[skyamajor]

yandere duke x witch reader

Synopsis: You’re a witch known for making love potions. They're fake. The reviews are real. Your track record? Immaculate. Until a duke walks in, covered in blood, and demands you reverse the spell you cast on him. You didn't cast anything. He doesn't care. And now you live in his mansion.

Love Potion or Love at First Sight?

"Are you sure this is it?"

"Yes yes! This is the love potion. Now pay up or leave because I have other customers to attend to!"

You groan at the woman hesitating in front of you, wasting your time.

You're an infamous witch known in the black market for selling all types of spells and potions for a hefty sum.

Your most popular item? The love potion.

Which is actually just… an aphrodisiac.

But after selling 170 potions? You've only ever received positive reviews. All from noblewomen, lovestruck and happy with the results.

What can you say? You've always known men to be lustful creatures, barren from emotions. After selling a 170 with zero bad reviews? Your ideology is proven correct.

"Are you sure it works?" the woman whispers.

"100% customer satisfaction guaranteed!"

She still looks nervous.

"And if it doesn't work, you can come back and I'll give double your money back as refund."

The woman nods. Pays. Leaves.

Another positive review, you think to yourself. Already confident and marking this as your 171st success.

…

You just didn’t expect your first bad review to appear right in front of your face.

The door slams open.

A man stands in your doorway.

Black hair. Red eyes. Blood splattered across his face, his clothes, his sword.

"So," The bloody man starts.

"You're the witch selling cheap love elixirs all over the market."

You don't answer. Your hand slides toward the defense charm under your counter.

Because this wasn’t just any man, this was the war-crazed duke feared by all of society.

"You better pay for this."

…Guess you'll be closing the shop for a while.

___________

And… you've been working at his mansion ever since.

Tasked with reversing whatever spell you supposedly casted on him. Despite all your protests, despite swearing up and down that you never did anything.

He doesn't believe you.

He won't believe you.

Because how else do you explain what he felt when he walked into your shop? That made his sword hand waver and his heart stutter, and his threats turn into something softer?

Obviously, you’ve cursed him. There was no need to investigate this any further, nor did he feel the need to tell you about all these symptoms.

So now you're stuck in a massive estate with a madman who thinks you cursed him, brewing antidote after antidote, watching nothing work.

You could only curse that woman.

The one who bought the potion and slipped it to him. The one who left you with this mess and then promptly left this world, if the blood on his sword was any indication.

Damn her.

What the hell did she see in this man anyway?

Because here's the thing you're learning, piece by piece. The duke? He's not just some nobleman. He's the nobleman. The one everyone whispers about. The one who's had three fiancées and buried all of them. The one who allegedly keeps a dungeon beneath the east wing and a graveyard behind the west garden.

The madman of high society.

If only you'd known he was the target that woman was after, you would've never sold her that potion. Never agreed to the commission. Never opened your stupid mouth about the satisfaction guarantee!!

But you didn't know.

And now you're stuck with the aftermath…

___________

At first, the madman kept you confined to a workspace somewhere within the mansion.

Close enough to monitor. Far enough to ignore.

Then, he started calling for you more often. Checking on your progress. Standing just a little too close while you worked. Watching you with scrutinizing red eyes.

And then, he started sticking around you 24/7, following you from room to room like some clingy puppy who couldn't bear for you to leave his sight.

Even that wasn’t enough. At some point, you stopped being assigned a room at all.

Wherever he was… that became your workspace.

You’d turn around and he’d be there.

In the doorway. Behind you. Leaning against the wall like he’d been there the whole time.

Like he had nowhere else to be. Don’t dukes have better things to do? Go tend to your paperwork or something!!

Through it all, he's never kind. Still angry. Still demanding. Still barking orders about reversing the damn spell.

But he never hurts you.

His threats are loud. His hands are rough. His voice could shatter glass.

But you've started to notice something.

He always stops. It’s all bark but no bite…

And it becomes a routine.

You work. He watches. You brew. He hovers. You try to leave. He blocks the door.

At some point, he has you working in his bedroom.

No, like, actually. He stooped to this level of stupidity, allowing needing you to stay in his chambers at night.

He's sleeping on the bed and you have to sit beside him. On the floor. With your books and your herbs and your constantly dying patience.

You don't know when this became normal.

You hate that it feels normal.

__________

Tonight, you try to get up.

His hand immediately shoots out to grab your wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?"

You don't flinch anymore. The first few times, you did. Now? You just sigh.

"I'm trying to study for a reverse spell. Or a cure. For you, remember?"

"Stay."

His voice is flat. Unreasonable. Like he's not even considering the possibility of you leaving.

"I can't work if I'm stuck by your side, your grace."

"Leave and I'll rip your throat out."

You've heard this before. The first time, you froze. The second time, you nearly cried. The third time, you started noticing the pattern.

He never follows through.

Not with you.

"Your grace," you say, calm as anything, "you can't do that. Who will reverse your spell if not the caster?"

His jaw tightens. His grip on your wrist doesn't loosen.

But he knows you're right.

He's quiet for a long moment. Thinking. And you can see the exact second he shifts tactics.

"Then I'll slit the throats of all the guards outside who allow you to leave this room."

"…I'm sat."

You sit back down on the floor. Head leaning against the bed where his hand lingers limbly. Sometimes brushing your hair unconsciously, like it was to make sure you were still there.

And you work on the spell in his chambers all night long. Barely getting a blink of sleep.

He, on the other hand?

Dead to the world.

The madman who threatened to rip your throat out twenty minutes ago is now curled up on his ridiculous silk sheets, snoring softly.

His face is slack. Peaceful. Innocent in a way that makes you want to throw a pillow at his head.

You've noticed this before. The way his eyes get heavy when you're nearby. The way his shoulders drop when you enter the room. And the way his threats get lazier the longer you stay.

At first, you thought it was the potion's side effects.

Now you're starting to think he just… can't sleep without you.

Which is not your problem. You didn't sign up to be a nobleman's sleeping charm. You're a witch. A busy one! One who is currently being held against her will in a mansion that smells too much like old money and fresh blood.

And yet.

Here you are.

Watching him sleep.

Because if you move, he wakes up. And if he wakes up, he gets grumpy. And if he gets grumpy, he threatens to kill someone.

Usually the guards.

You've started to feel kind of bad for the guards.

"I hope you wake up with a stiff neck," you mutter, dipping your quill in ink. "I hope you stub your toes when you wake up. I hope your breakfast is cold and your tea is bitter and your horse steps on your foot."

His lips curl up softly. Like you're singing him a lullaby.

Your quill scratches to a halt.

"…I hope you dream about spiders," you try, weaker this time.

His smile deepens.

He doesn't wake up. He just… rests. Peaceful and content. Like your curses are the sweetest words he's ever heard.

You stare at him.

Then you look down at your notes. At the page full of failed antidotes and useless counter-spells.

At the truth you've been avoiding for weeks.

Nothing is wrong with him.

The potion didn't work.

He's just like this.

You set down your quill.

Press your palms to your eyes.

And wonder, for the thousandth time, what in the hell you did to deserve this.

Maybe its time you suggest a psychiatrist.

___________

Little did both of you know.

The potion didn't work on him.

It never could have. Years of assassination attempts had made his body resistant to poisons, potions, anything ingested.

The drink that woman slipped him? It passed through his system like water. Barely a flicker of discomfort. A vague pulling in his chest that he dismissed as irritation.

He came to your shop that day ready to kill the witch who made it.

Not because the potion had affected him.

But because he was annoyed.

Someone had tried to enchant him. Someone had failed. And he wanted to make an example of the person responsible.

Until he saw you.

And something in his chest pulled again.

Not the potion. That was already gone.

Something else.

Something he didn't have a name for.

He still doesn't have a name for it. He calls it a curse. A spell. Your fault.

It's not.

He was just love-struck at first sight.

And he's been falling harder and harder with each day that passes.

Deep in his sleep, one thought surfaces in his mind.

He’s never letting you go.

[catge00]

The bachelors! Will do a set of the bachelorettes soon.

[catge00]

The bachelors! Will do a set of the bachelorettes soon.

[a-hemhem]

More doodle of Shane

[the-big-mood]

[a-hemhem]

Good Moring Shane!! 🥱

[sugar-petals]

i fucking love ryan gosling for saying this. he gets that if a movie hits like crack and gives us something ‘more’, the certain something beyond market value, we will naturally go full barbenheimer on our local theaters.

[status-quo-hater]

I think one of the funniest abortion stances I've heard was from my parents neighbor. He's a like, hard-core libertarian viking larper guy who is very tall and very fat and very bald.

He believes a fetus is human with a soul, but also its "basically attacking the woman's body" so if she wants to get rid of it, that's "basically self-defense". He compared it to shooting a home invader. So he supports abortion not as healthcare, but as killing a baby in self-defense

[status-quo-hater]

Y'know I'm so glad someone reminded me of this. Because this was also discussed.

My stepmother did NOT like the way her Libertarian Viking Neighbor framed pregnancy as the fetus "attacking the woman". She incredulously told him this was extremely disrespectful to expectant mothers to portray pregnancy as so violent and negative.

Libertarian Viking Neighbor's response was that people consensually hurt each other all the time, and "there's like a whole community about that, with the acronym the one that starts with a B" And his reasoning was that if the mother was consenting to bring attacked by the baby, it in fact wasn't violent and negative because there was consent.

He brought up people consensually hurting each other, didn't go for one of the obvious answers like boxing or body mods or something, no he went STRAIGHT TO BDSM and he DIDN'T EVEN REMEMBER THE ACRONYM

[blended-ice]

Hug

[mypillowis]

[grimmscythe]

Reblog to cast heal on prev