#( viktoria | thread )

[hydraschaos]

where: the bastion, during the ball with: @sntsagcstines

Finding her hadn't been so hard, and Viktoria wondered if the girl had been trying to hide at all or if she was just as predictable as Viktoria thought half the world to be. She wondered, briefly, if the rest of her family had the same luck as her with finding Noémie in this sea of people and had their... moments with her already, including her wife, or if the girl had managed to be elusive. Hiding from anyone from the moment she ran away from Davika's side.

Sneaking up behind her, Viktoria took a brief moment to look at the other before standing right beside her, an amused smile on her lips. "Has my darling wife found you already? Or are you getting better at hiding from your family?." She figured it wasn't all that easy, to hide from either of them. Unless you went off the grid, nothing but a ghost. "I certainly hope is the latest... would like to believe I'm rubbing off on you."

[littledecth]

FRANZIU O CENHO LEVEMENTE QUANDO A OUTRA CHEIROU O BISCOITO - será que as coisas estavam tão ruins, que até mesmo tinham medo de aceitar bondade desinteressada de outras pessoas ? que pergunta tola ; com certeza estavam. semideuses, assim como seus pais imortais, podiam guardar rancor pela vida toda, mesmo que significantemente mais curta . embora acreditasse, que achavam uma maneira de ser amargos na vida após a morte. 

❛ não, não vim vender nada. queria só fazer algo diferente. ❜ disse, em um tom que esperava ser amigável , estendendo de novo a cesta. ❛ pode pegar quantos quiser. ❜ suspirou ligeiramente, olhando outra vez para além da cerca. ❛ acho que não vou entrar hoje. ❜ embora devesse, e sabia. ❛ ouvi dizer que vocês estão todos .. enfraquecidos. ❜ tentou não fazer parecer tão ruim quanto devia ser.  ❛ vou deixar que descansem . ❜ passou o pequeno objeto trançado, cheio dos biscoitos por cima da delimitação. ❛ pode dividir isso com seus irmãos ? ❜ pensou em alguém em especial.  ❛ especialmente natalia, diga que archie os fez. vai fazer ela comer, caso esteja se recusando. ❜

Viktoria era reservada o suficiente para que, mesmo em anos de acampamento, nem todos a conhecessem. certamente conheciam sua reputação, mas não a si. e aquilo se comprovou com o receio da outra. de Beatrice ela se lembrava, principalmente por vê-la conversando com as irmãs, pareciam gostar dela e aquilo minimizava os seus pontos na lista vermelha de pessoas que não queria ver nem a cara -o que no momento, eram todos os campistas- mas ainda não a conhecia o suficiente para descartar a culpa. ❛biscoitos amanteigados.❜ repetiu, e se aproximou. pegou um e cheirou o biscoito como um cão fareja o osso, para logo depois morder devagar, ainda hesitante. ❛ninguém está bem, isso não é novidade, mas sobrevivemos desde a inquisição, de qualquer forma." e na verdade até muito antes. o problema de agora era a progenitora, e com isso pouco tinham força para lutar contra. "se quiser pode entrar, não sei se veio vender isso ai mas eu não tenho dinheiro, só peguei porque me ofereceu..." e estavam deliciosos, ela precisava admitir. "mas talvez meus irmãos consigam alguns trocados."

[ichimakesart]

The Four

◇The Cure◇ Tanit - belongs to @sayonaramidnight

◇The Thread◇ Viktoria - belongs to @mayaminamoto

◇The Lost One◇ Monkey King - mine

◇The Pupil◇ Samir - belongs to @whispering-jabberwocky

All pieces have references to their stories prepared by @raceofhearts

~☆◇Prints◇☆~▪︎~☆◇Commissions◇☆~▪︎~☆◇Kofi◇☆~▪︎~☆◇My Game on Steam◇☆~▪︎~☆◇For inquiries: ichimakes@gmail.com◇☆~

[kopfkino-o]

so i finally finished hofas. and don’t come for me, but this is officially my least favorite SJM book. spoilers and my thoughts below

this book was just so messy. it felt rushed, felt stuffed full of all these plot threads, and so many side characters were just shoved to the wayside. Like what was even the point of Sigrid? All home girl did was die so Ithan could become Prime. The story could have basically been the exact same without her character. Flynn and Declan largely felt interchangeable. Celestina, Naomi, and Isaiah could have also been left out and the story wouldn't have changed. Hypaxia was there, but we saw hardly any development on her arc or learned anything about her. And don't even get me started on Fury and Juniper (aka the glorified Uber drivers). There were too many characters and not enough time/focus on their development which left them feeling flat / useless.

As for Bryce…yikes. She came across as a discount Aelin with a cellphone and no regard for others trauma. I really don’t like the characterization of her in this book, which is a shame because I LOVED her in CC1. She came across as childish, petty, selfish, and brash. I found some of her "sassy one-liners" to be very cringey.

Lidia Cervos and Nesta Archeron deserve a fucking metal for carrying the entire book on their backs because miss Bryce certainly didn’t.

Now the world building…as a high fantasy girlie, the world building in this book was a treat. I loved all the lore, the history, the explanations we got, and the setup for the next ACOTAR book is truly impeccable (more to come on this later…). Howeverrr the plot of this book just fell a little flat for me. It felt messy, disjointed between all the POV switches, and I feel a lot of plot threads just went...nowhere (ie: the thunder birds, Viktoria the wraith, Ariadne and her dragon fire, the Viper Queen, etc).

I know SJM loves happy ever afters, but damn, she needs to stop with the fake-out deaths.

It really really cheapens the stakes and makes the entire story feel…underwhelming. Undeserved? Like am I truly supposed to be afraid of Asteri, the supposed Big Baddie™️ of the entire universe, if none of the main cast dies or truly suffers at their hands? Idk. Beating them felt…too easy. Too convenient for all the characters.

Also, I really disliked how there were no consequences for our characters.

Ruhn, Baxian, and Hunt are brutally tortured, yet they're back in the gym, thinking nothing of it, a few chapters later. We saw Nesta clearly struggle with the Mask yet both Bryce and Hunt used it as if it was a pair of cheap sunglasses. Tharion experienced no consequences from defecting the Viper Queen and don't even get me started about the River Queen. In exposition, he reflects on how she will 100% kill him, yet she's cool with him after he gives a few half-assed lines about "the right thing". Like mmmm okay babes I thought she wanted you dead dead, no questions asked. Everything was just too easy. Powerful objects were there when they were needed, former enemies turned allies without much of a fight, and the Asteri themselves were defeated rather easily in the end.

Overall? It was a 3.5 star read for me.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Days in the sun - Walter Deville x Reader - P3

Taking inspo from chap 5 and 10 of Walter de Ville's Advocate! Yall can see exactly where I took inspo/ref from too XDXD

=

She glanced this way, I thought I saw And when we touched, she didn't shudder at my paw No, it can't be, I'll just ignore But then she's never looked at me that way before

-

I got up early the next day, getting most of my paperwork out of the way so I could spend time with (y/n), and Evie…I really had no damn clue how I would pull anything off now. Considering the doubts I now had about the wedding. With (y/n) back, I didn’t need the families anymore, and I didn’t want to put the person who had brought back my (y/n) into such peril.

It had taken me a minute to figure out, but with the return of (y/n), it felt like I had come back to life. When she was gone-I was nothing but an emotionless shell of who I used to be. Moving along with the days and not caring for who I hurt. (y/n) was my soul, my humanity-with her return, came back my guilt, my remorse, my empathy.

I couldn't curse Evie to this, she didn’t say yes to this-to any of this. She didn’t even know about what I was, or what her family was involved in. we were all tricking her and I felt horrid. I had to figure out a way to stop the wedding without setting anyone off. If anything-I could just say she said no-but that wouldn’t bode over well, Viktoria was power hungry-and while I could tell she didn’t like Evie(or (y/n)) she would do anything to regain our full might-even if it meant forcing Evie to say yes.

I sighed, dropping my pen and rubbing my face-the dawning sun breaking across the horizon. I had always been an early riser, but today I wanted to be up before the sun rose-just to make sure I had the day clear of work. “What the fuck am I going to do?” I whispered to myself, feeling frustration bubbling at my chest and teeth-I’m pretty sure the only damn person-or vampire-that wouldn’t react badly to me not wanting to marry Evie would be Lucy-she was an extremely understanding and empathetic person-and she held that quality into her immortality. Though she didn’t hold it while feeding-she was just as bloodthirsty as Viktoria was, and I used to be.

“You seem frustrated my dear.” I peeked between my fingers at the new voice-seeing both Viktoria and Lucy making their way toward me to join me on the patio. I just hummed, brushing my hands through my hair and letting my bangs fall into my eyes-feeling Viktoria’s hand thread into my hair and brush them back again-she preferred the slick back style(which always made me look older than the age I had stopped at). Turning my attention to Lucy-who had been the one to speak up-I shrugged, leaning forward out of Viktoria’s grip and leaning my elbows on the table-something which Viktoria crunched her nose at.

She was always one for proper etiquette-but I really didn’t give a fuck. “I suppose I am,” I muttered, looking down at my paper work-not paying attention as one of the maids of the manor came up and gave the three of us mimosas-all three lightly dyed red from the blood mixed into them. I took mine gingerly, holding back a grimace at the taste-now that (y/n) was back, all blood to me was stale-I only wanted hers, I only wanted her.

“Why?” Lucy asked, my two brides sitting down with me at the patio table, sipping at their mimosas. I just shrugged again; it wasn’t something I could tell lucy with Viktoria around. So instead I just told her ‘wedding stuff’ to which she nodded. “Understandable, it’s been over 100 years since the last wedding, normal to have some nerves or frustration,” Lucy hummed, and I smiled a bit-there it was, that empathy that drew me to her originally. Viktoria just huffed, swirling her glass. “Especially since the new bride has no clue about all this-tell me dearest,” Viktoria hummed, her dark eyes burning a hole in my head “What is the plan? Seduce her into saying yes? And what of the friend? Will she be Evelyn's first meal?”

I had to hold back from baring my fangs at the mere thought of (y/n) just being a meal. The only being that would ever taste her blood would be me. “I haven't figured out that last bit yet,” I muttered, telling a semi-truth. Viktoria just hummed, eyes drifting back to Lucy. Fuck what was I going to do with (y/n)? If she didn’t remember, of course I couldn’t just-force her to stay! But with her alive I couldn’t just-marry Evie with any good conscience -fuck I couldn’t stay married to Lucy or Viktoria with any good conscience either.

 But I had no idea how to end it all, the contract was forged in blood-curated by a witch near 500 years ago. I had no magical prowess of my own but…but if (y/n) remembered, she might be able to void that contract. I sighed, rubbing my face as I closed my paperwork folder, I would finish it later. I was happy to have (y/n) back, but damn did it just-make things so complicated.

I looked up to see Viktoria eyeing the balcony where (y/n)’s room connected, her claws edging out from her fingertips. “One scratch on her and you’ll be locked to the bottom of the lake till spring thaws the ice.” I hissed out, surprising both Viktoria and Lucy at the pure danger in my voice, along with such a punishment. But gods be damned if I let (y/n) be hurt under my protection again. “We don’t want any suspicions from either of them-so play nice.” Viktoria just huffed, accepting my quick cover-up from my sudden threat, and finished her mimosa, setting the glass delicately on the table and leaning forward in her chair.

“Who is she?” Viktoria hummed, her eyes icy and dark as she rested her chin on her hands, Lucy peeked at me from behind her glass-clearly also curious about (y/n). “I’ve noticed you’re quite…protective of her.” Viktoria hummed, carefully choosing her words to describe the way I acted towards (y/n). She clearly hadn't learned from the previous night when I had told her (y/n) was no concern of hers. I just blinked at her, taking my mimosa and finishing it off, barely tasting it as it went down my throat.

“Now, I didn’t ask you such questions when you had that little fling with Mira, did I not?” I hummed, carefully warning Viktoria to back off. Her eyes narrowed at the mention of Mira-a maid she had taken a shine to back in the 1600s. “So, you should give me the same courtesy and give me the same privacy.” I finished with a slight bow of my head, giving a half grin to my eldest wife-who just continued to glare at me. “So the master has taken a shine to a commoner? How cute.” Viktoria muttered, standing abruptly and walking off, jutting her head to order Lucy to follow.

Lucy waited a few moments to tell me she thought (y/n) seemed nice, to which I couldn’t help but smile. I watched her walk off after Viktora and sighed-feeling bad for my bubbly bride-Viktoria held such a grip on her-If it came down to it-I wasn’t sure where Lucy’s loyalties would lie-even if her vows demanded they be with me.

I sighed, sitting back in my chair and rubbing my nose.

I needed a fucking drink.

And a nice breakfast with (y/n).

-

I took it upon myself to make breakfast-knowing exactly how (y/n) liked her meals, and while French toast had certainly changed over the centuries-I was certain she would still like how I made them. I tasted the mixture before adding eggs and nodded, perfect. I carefully dipped the thick sliced Brioche and set it on the griddle, slicing up some strawberries as I waited for it to cook. When I flipped the slice I started on some eggs, making sure they were cooked and seasoned exactly the way (y/n) liked them.

“Now where are those hashbrowns,” I muttered to myself, looking into my fridge, I had pre-grated them a few hours back just so I didn’t have to rush them while I made everything else. I found them exactly where I had put them, right behind the bacon pack. I placed the finished slices into the warmed oven along with the eggs, oiled the griddle, and started on the hashbrowns. Again-made very differently compared to back then-but who didn’t like fried potatoes?

Viktoria. My mind supplied and I couldn’t help but chuckle. She would be furiously jealous if she saw me doing this for some ‘random commoner’ instead of her. But she didn’t even like human food-she had grown an intense dislike for anything human-other than human blood. Besides-I was making enough for me, (y/n), and Evie-just in case she joined us but-I had a strong feeling Evie would be sleeping in.

When the hashbrowns were finished, I plated the food and called Mrs. Swift to help me transfer everything to the patio, she seemed surprised to see my kitchen in such a state-she knew I liked to cook sometimes-but not to this degree-nor had I ever cooked for anyone but my wives or myself.

I got a few pastries that I knew (y/n) liked, and a few I thought Evie would like, and made sure everything was perfect. I took a few steps back from the decorated table and nodded to myself. “Perfect,” I whispered, turning on my heel and ruffling my hair as I made my way back inside and up to (y/n)’s room, asking for Mrs. Swift to attempt to wake up Evie.

I knocked on her door gently, chuckling as I heard her groan awake and shuffle over to her door-looking so adorably sleepy as she opened it and looked up at me-rubbing her eyes as she pouted slightly. “Good morning,” I whispered, grinning as she muttered it back quietly. “there’s breakfast on the patio, French toast with strawberries?” There it was-she was wide awake at the mention of French toast. Her eyes nearly sparkled and I once again had to hold myself back from smothering her with my affection.

Fuck why was she so damn cute.

“French toast?” she croaked, and oh my heart-my heart, I was going to melt from her-oh my gods. I just nodded instead of taking her cheeks and kissing her silly. “yes, and strawberries.” And with that-the door was shut in my face-I couldn’t help but laugh, tears in my eyes as I heard (y/n) rush to get dressed-though I wouldn't have cared if she stayed in her Pjs.

When the door opened again, all (y/n) said was; “French toast,” and I laughed again, tucking her hand into my arm and leading her outside, opening the door for her and letting her go first. She took a deep breath as she stepped out, a smile on her face as she took in the food I had made for her. “Yum~” she sang, and I was smiling so much my cheeks began to hurt. Though it turned into a pout when (y/n) sat down before I could get her chair for her.

I sat down across from her, noticing (y/n)’s eyes glancing between the seat between us and me, Evie’s plate of food still sitting under its cover. “Who’s that for?” (y/n) asked, decorating her food as she liked. I nodded back towards the manor, my cheek in my palm as I watched (y/n) begin to eat. “Evie, but I think she’s suffering from intense jetlag.” I joked, grinning as (y/n) snorted, nodding as she did. And almost as soon as I finished saying that-Mrs. Swift arrived, without Evie-looking a bit nervous. And it was understandable, Evie-who was my bride to be-would not be joining me for breakfast-denying my time with her. I should’ve been at least frustrated at it.

But I really couldn’t care, I had my (y/n). “My apologies for interrupting Lord Deville, but Ms. Evie is a bit…stubborn, to wake up, I’m afraid she won’t be joining you.” I just nodded, handing some strawberries to (y/n) as she looked around for them, grinning as she scooped some out onto her plate, dancing in her seat as she tossed a piece into her mouth.  “That’s just fine,” I said to Mrs. Swift with a wave of my hand, smiling softly at my beloved as she ate the food I had made for her “let her have her rest, I have the perfect company already.” Mrs. Swift glanced between me and (y/n), confused at my attitude towards (y/n), but didn’t question it, bowing out and returning to her duties.

I looked back at (y/n), watching her with soft eyes as she continued to eat, my eyes drawn to her lips as she liked them free of syrup. She looked up at me, pointing her fork at my food and tilting her head. “Aren’t you gonna eat?” she asked, jolting me out of my thoughts-most of which were….not safe for work-as one might say. I cleared my throat-looking down at my food-which I hadn’t taken the cover off of yet.

“oh-uh, yeah.” I chuckled, taking the cover off and setting it aside, grabbing some butter and syrup and decorating it as I liked, pausing for a moment before I took a bite-it had been quite a bit since I last ate human food-I had only recently regained such a love for it actually.

About 10 years ago really.

Which reminded me-I needed to ask (y/n) about her last 10 years, what had happened? Where had she gone after waking up under the Wych tree? Why had she been homeless? I needed to know what had happened to her.

“So,” I started as casually as I could, setting down my fork and leaning back in my chair, holding my hand in front of my mouth as I spoke-It was rude to speak with your mouth full after all. “What have you been doing the last ten years? I know you said you were homeless for most of it but-“ I made a gesture and puffed my cheeks, something (y/n) giggled at, a warmth filling my chest at the sound, god how I had missed that sound. I felt my cheeks flush as she smiled at me, tilting her head just so. “--along that?” I asked, leaning forward in my chair as (y/n) fiddled with her necklace, humming as she thought back through the last 10 years.

She looked towards the gardens-her eyes catching onto the flowers I had planted myself, her favorites. “Well uh, for the first year, I just-kinda wandered.” She muttered, furrowing her brows a bit as she recalled what she had done. “I didn’t know where I was, or really-who I was. I only had my necklace and my name. This family took me in when they found me-wandering about-and let me stay for a bit, and for about a year I went from hotel to hotel, street to street just looking for anything that could help me remember, but-“ she sighed, and I so desperately wanted to take her in my arms-seeing how much she struggled, not just in life-but within her own mind-she had been all alone-having to learn about the modern world on her own. Without me.

(y/n) continued, her eyes glancing to the side. “Nothing came to me, so I saved up some money, got a ticket, and flew to New York.” New York? Why New York? I must’ve looked confused or something because (y/n) waved off the notion. “Why New York? I have no idea, it was the first place I saw and I decided it would be the best place for me.” She glanced down at her lap, her frown deepening. ““I lived on the streets for two years, I practically starved to death several times-“ I felt my heart crack, the metal of my chair bending under my grip, a tightness in my chest as I imagined my darling all alone, hunger pains I knew all too well racking her body. I knew what nearly starving to death felt like-when my mother died-my father fell into a deep depression, and my sister was hardly old enough to provide us with enough to survive.

The only reason I lived that winter was thanks to my father's closest friend, who had taken the then three of us in and fed us as well as he could.

I shook my head back into the present as (y/n) continued on. “but I was able to save up enough to rent a room for a few months, and then get a job; it didn’t pay much, I had to choose between a roof over my head and food many times but…yeah.” She shrugged, as if her struggles hadn’t been a big deal-as if she hadn’t almost died-as if I hadn’t lost my beloved from something out of my control.

I rested my hand on the table, giving my softest smile that I always knew made her feel better-the same smile I gave her after her mother died from pneumonia when we were 16. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I whispered, tilting my head slightly as (y/n) smiled back, her eyes dilating and she seemed to be out of focus for a moment, her breath catching as something caught her attention.

My brows furrowed as she stared off into space, whispering her name until she shook her head, holding the necklace tight in her grip. “Are you okay?” I asked, biting my lip as she nodded. “You spaced out for a moment there.”

“Yes, yes I’m fine just-another” she waved her hand, glancing away from me as she did “memory, I guess.” My heart skipped a beat and I leaned towards her, nearly begging to know what she had remembered-and if it was a strong memory or not. As she described what it was-I felt a smile grow on my face, it was of us, I remembered it quite dearly-after we got married and enjoying a late morning breakfast in the gardens of her home. She had said something and I couldn’t help but laugh-just, happy to be there with her.

I was taken back to reality when I heard my head gardener call for me, walking up to the patio with his hands behind his back. “The grounds are ready for inspection sir.” I nodded with a hum, finishing off my eggs before getting to my feet-holding out my hand to (y/n) with an inviting smile. “Would you like a tour while I do lord stuff?” (y/n) laughed at my wording and took my hand, letting me lead her off to the gardens-staying silent as the gardener explained what had been done and admiring while I gestured around some of the hedges-requesting a few changes here and there.

We passed by a bush of her favorite flowers, and I saw her eyes were immediately drawn to them. I couldn't help myself. I carefully plucked one from its bush and held it out to (y/n), laughing as she stepped back and shook her head. “I shouldn’t,” she said, holding up her hands in denial. I just smiled and continued to hold it out to her-the gardener excused himself at that point. “you should,” I pushed, feeling a bit cheeky as she shook her head, laughing as she did-she clearly wanted to take it-but didn’t want to just snatch it from my hand.

“I shouldn’t.”

“you should.”

“I shouldn’t!”

“You should.” I pushed one last time, biting the inside of my lip as (y/n) took her flower and held it close to her chest, a small cheeky grin on her lips “I will.” she ended in a hum, smiling up at me. I chuckled, shaking my head as (y/n) and I continued to walk through the gardens again, taking every twisting path there was through the small maze the garden hedges and flowers created.

I took a moment to breathe-just, happy to have her by my side again-even if she didn’t know I was her Harrison-I would wait another 900 years for her to do so. “so,” my attention turned to (y/n) as she began to speak, twirling the flower between her fingers. I hummed, gesturing for her to continue speaking. “Tell me about yourself? What do you do for fun?”

I laughed softly, shaking my head slightly as I kicked a small rock out of the way, raising my shoulders a small bit as I glanced at her with a small smirk. “And here I thought you would ask about Harrison?” I teased, though I really had expected her to ask about ‘my brother’, I didn’t mind her asking about me. Maybe she had already unknowingly made the connection between me and ‘him’.

(y/n) just shrugged, pursing her lips a bit as she looked up at the sky. “Well,” she muttered, looking back at me and tilting her head back and forth. “he was your brother, I just-I dunno-thought it would be a bit…insensitive just to ask about him?” I couldn’t help but smile-hiding it by looking off into the gardens, my eyes catching onto a deer that swiftly ran back into the forest when it felt my eyes. i….really didn’t know how to answer that question, many things I did for fun-I didn’t do anymore.

Because what was the point when she wasn’t there to have fun with me?

But I tried to recall what I did now-adays to pass the time, which-wasn’t much. “I like playing the piano, haven’t done it in a while though.” My voice turned to a matter at the end, rubbing my chin as I felt (y/n)’s eyes on me. “uh-I write sometimes?….damn I don’t do a lot of stuff other than work.”

(y/n) laughed, which sent butterflies through my stomach. I grinned down at her, my eyes drifting down to her free hand. I reached out just slightly, pulling back as she looked at me-her eyes just as wonderful as I remembered-that wonderful kindness still in her eyes. “busy bee ain't ya?” she teased, laughing as I dramatically rolled my eyes, sticking my hands back in my pockets, kicking that same small rock out of my path.

“Yeah,” I muttered, licking under my top lip and huffing “don’t really have time for myself anymore.” I tried to remember the last time I did something for myself-or did something for fun that wasn’t…feeding or some sort of-stuffy party that I really didn’t care about.

(y/n) hummed, reaching up and curling her hand around my elbow-her pinkie catching my exposed arm which sent lightning down my spine again. God I had missed her. I noticed her slowing down, and I came to a stop with her-watching her gaze that drew over to the overgrown path that led to our old home.

The old castle.

I swallowed, feeling my hands shake as (y/n) nodded towards that path, and I could tell she felt a pull towards it-something was telling her to go down that path.

I wasn’t ready for her to do that yet. I wasn’t ready for her to face a barrage of memories that might break her.

“Where does that go?” (y/n) asked and I shrugged, taking my hand out of my pocket and resting it on her shoulder-her hand dropping from my elbow as I started to guide her back towards the manor. “uh-just-just an old forest path; it’s not really used anymore, poison ivy got out of hand.” I explained-which it wasn’t a lie-it was overgrown with poison ivy. (y/n) just hummed, accepting my answer and letting me lead her back into the manor, I turned to her as we stepped into the main hall. “Have you had a tour of the manor yet?”

(y/n) shook her head, leaning into my side as I turned and guided her towards my study. “Well then, let us start in the library, or rather my office.” I unlocked the door and pushed it open, letting her fully step inside before I closed the door behind me. (y/n) let out a low whistle of appreciation as she gazed into my study, trailing her hand along the back of the couch that had just been placed in front of the fireplace-sitting just across from the loveseat.

“Comfy,” she said, her gaze drawn to the animal heads I had decorating the walls-another pastime of mine-one that I only participated in once a year.

She paused at my selection of books-all my personal favorites. I had made sure they were separate from the actual library of the manor-which was much bigger and had many more books. “What are your favorites to read?” she asked, and I hummed, stepping beside her and trailing my hands across the many books that sat on the shelves-only one on my mind.

It was the one that reminded me of her, and the love we held. There it was. I pulled the old book from its shelf, it was maybe only 50 years old-not even that, but it was one I read over and over nowadays, one of the few things that made me feel like I did back then. I handed the book to (y/n), grinning as she gasped and ran her hands gently over the cover. “The princess bride, I love that one.” She whispered, making my heart flutter-knowing she loved it like I did- she gently opened the book and her jaw dropped at the special mark just under the cover. “is this a first edition?”

I nodded, tucking my hands into my pocket and rocking on my heels slightly, a soft grin on my lips. “Yes, I do have a fondness for original works but-that was one of the first I collected with the intent to use instead of shelving it.” (y/n) hummed, reading through the first few pages before attempting the hand the book back to me-I lifted my hand to stop her, her head tilting adorably at my refusal to put it back. “Keep it, at least until you…leave.”

Right. She had to leave at some point-that’s if she didn’t remember, which while I had hope I could help her regain her memories before the weeks end-I wasn’t sure if I could. And if she didn’t-she would return to New York only knowing me as her long-dead beloved’s brother. I shook those thoughts away, gesturing to the book as she brought it back to her chest with the flower-her eyes sparkling. “I can tell you want to read it.”

(y/n) beamed with a giddy giggle, and that one smile seemed to erase all worry from my mind. I couldn’t help but smile back, my heart fluttering as she looked down at the book with such fondness, fondness I had missed for so many years. “Thank you.” (y/n) said, taking my elbow as I offered it and nodded towards the door. “shall we continue?” I asked as I led her out of my study and continued to show her the manor.

We skipped the kitchen-as it was somewhere she had already seen the day before, the bandage still on her finger. I joked with such a reference and (y/n) snorted, leaning her head on my shoulder as I guided her back towards the grand dining room, where the rehearsal dinner would be taking place. I gestured out at the room, leading her to the set of double glass doors that led out to the back gardens and a small stone patio. “This is the grand dining room, which connects to the balcony and the back gardens; where the cocktail party this Friday, tomorrow, will be held.” (y/n) nodded and hummed as she looked out into the gardens, where now; my servants were setting up for the party tomorrow evening.

(y/n) suddenly took a sharp breath, as if in pain and I quickly looked down at her-holding back from taking her and looking her over for any injuries. But instead of doing so I simply stepped closer to her-looking her over as I asked her what was wrong. (y/n) just cursed under her breath and I realized her sharp breath was not one of pain, but annoyance or frustration. “I didn’t bring any dresses with me that would say-cocktail party.” She muttered, looking out at the gardens again.

My mind was filled with thoughts of (y/n) in a cocktail dress, her leg peeking out of a slim black dress. I swallowed at the thought, mentally filing that thought away for later. “No worries, I’ll handle it.” I said, smiling as (y/n) looked up at me, wondering what I meant. She asked as such and I just smiled wider, slowly walking out of the room as (y/n) pushed for an answer, laughter bubbling in her chest as I walked out of the dining room and towards the conservatory that I had turned into an artist's loft for Evie.

“oh wow,” (y/n) gasped softly, setting down the book and flower, and exploring the room eagerly, her hands running over the pottery wheel. “Eve would have a field day with this room,” she muttered, to which if I was still planning on the whole wedding thing-would have been great news. But now it was just nice to see (y/n) exploring the room. “oh~” she walked up to an easel-a portrait I had been working on resting on the stand. “who’s making this?” (y/n) asked, pointing at the half-finished painting.

“I am” I said, a bit of pride in my voice. Drawing had always been something I was passionate about; I had several sketchbooks tucked away in my study. I stepped towards (y/n), looking at the unfinished portrait of my older sister, Harriet.

My father had never been original with names. Harriet. Harrison.

“you’re very talented” (y/n)’s voice broke through my thoughts and I hummed in thanks, my eyes drifting down to the brushes and paint I had been forced to put down a few days ago, my schedule too busy to pick them back up. “who is she?”

I blinked, not expecting that question-nor was I sure how to answer it. But-I decided to tell the truth “My sister, my older sister.” I muttered, sighing softly. I missed her, she had died about 60 years after I had been turned-and not a day goes by I wished she was still here, to guide me like she always had. “Harriet.”

I blinked, I hadn't said her name-(y/n) did, her eyes almost glazed over as she gazed at Harriet’s portrait, her eyes caught onto the dark curly hair that I had been in the middle of painting. “Harriet, right? That was her name?”(y/n) asked, turning to me, looking overjoyed at remembering my big sister. I couldn’t help but grin with her, nodding.

“yes,” I rasped, feeling a catch in my chest. “yes, that was her name. Harriet.” (y/n) hummed, watching me carefully as I turned to look at the portrait-that while unfinished-still brought those damned feelings to the surface. My chest felt heavy, tingles ran down my arms, my stomach turned with a heaving lurch, and pins stabbed at my lungs.

Grief. A feeling I had never been able to get rid of, not when I outlived my baby sister, not when the pain of losing (y/n) was still so fresh even with her return. I took a breath, one (y/n) noticed but didn’t comment on, gently reaching out and taking my pinkie and ring finger in her index finger, squeezing gently as she did.

Just her touch soothed my heart and I took another breath, smiling down at her as she gazed at the unfinished painting. “Thank you,” I whispered and she hummed, squeezing my fingers again. I coughed lightly, moving forward and around the easel-her fingers still holding mine as her free hand grabbed the book and flower “Shall we move on? There’s plenty more to see.”

(y/n) nodded, her arm flush against mine as I led her back out of the conservatory and into the hall’s, leading her to the other side-where the library and sun room sat. I took her to the library first, laughing as she practically ran into it like a child in a candy store-spinning on her heels as she took in the two-story room, a spiral staircase leading up to the 2nd floor-a set of doors leading to the upstairs hallway for 2ndary access. “oh this is beautiful” (y/n) whispered, running her hand along the wood island that sat in front of the staircase, her eyes flickering about the grand room-catching on the gold harp in the corner-Viktoria’s.

“Oh that’s beautiful,” she gasped in awe, walking over to it and gently running her fingers across the top. “Do you play it?” I shook my head at her innocent question, chuckling as I did. “no, my skill lies with the piano,” I gestured to the piano that lay on the other side of the room-one of several pianos in the estate actually. “That belongs to one of the maids of honor, whom you’ll most likely meet at the cocktail party.” (y/n) hummed turning on her heel and admiring the room once more before I held out my hand again, wanting to hold hers once more. “Come-there’s still lots to show.”

(y/n) skipped over to me and took my hand, our fingers soon laced tightly together as I continued to show her my manor; the sun room, the spa, the lounge, the ballroom(which was unused for now), and lastly(at least for the main floor)-the hall of ancestors.

Where portraits of my family-and hers- were hung around the room. I wondered if It were too soon to show her, but I knew she would be suspicious if I avoided that room-so I was caustic as we stepped inside. “Well, here you go,” I muttered, watching as she walked about the long room-gazing upon the portraits of my family.

She stopped at the portrait of my father, now long dead, and tilted her head at him. “James, right?” she asked, turning to me, a grin on her face-widening when I nodded. “Two points,” I chuckled, pushing off the door and walking over to her, looking up at the face of my father. His icy green eyes stared back, and I quickly looked away, watching as (y/n) trailed her hand upon the red rope that separated the wall from any visitors-just to make a small barrier to prohibit any touching from the portraits-all of them were centuries old now.

“Who is this?” My attention was brought back to reality as (y/n) looked up at a portrait of my mother that sat a few feet away from my fathers. My heart lurched a bit, (y/n) had never met my mother, she had died years before my family moved to Whitby-where I met (y/n). “My mother, Iris.” I supplied, stepping behind (y/n) and smiling softly at my mother's visage; her eyes reflecting my own. “You never met her, died when I was only a few months old. Harriet was three.”

One might ask how I remembered her face so well if she died when I so young, I didn’t. Harriet had taken it upon herself to memorize every detail, and my father's friend had sketched up several pieces for me and Harriet to keep in her memory-which I used to commission her portrait. I really remembered her eyes the most-and her voice-it could be compared to sirens.

(y/n) frowned, turning to me and taking my hand, and I was suddenly aware of the burning sensation in my nose. I sniffed, reaching up with my free hand and pinching my nose for a quick moment. “I’m fine-it was a long time ago,” I whispered, smiling as (y/n)’s fingers curled around my palm, squeezing it lightly.

“As Evie would say,” (y/n) softly muttered, stepping closer and resting her cheek on my shoulder. “the pain of losing someone never really leaves you.” I sighed, licking my lips and squeezing her fingers gently. I knew that all too well, not just of my mother or sisters-but of (y/n), whom I thought I had lost forever until yesterday.

“who-who’s that?” I turned, eyes widening as I looked upon the portraits of the Godkin family-(y/n)’s family. She was staring at a portrait of her mother, her hand slowly leaving mine as she walked towards the opposite side of the room. “oh uh,” I coughed into my fist, quietly pushed away from my mother, and stepped next to (y/n). “the Godkin’s, the family the Deville’s married into and the original heirs to the fortune. Without them, none of this” I gestured around me-meaning the manor and my wealthy life style-but also meaning my immortal life-as their daughter had been the very reason I still stood here. “would be here.”

(y/n) hummed, her eyes drawing to her father's portrait before she took a step back, smiling up at me. “these are all beautiful” she muttered, taking another good look at each portrait before taking my hand again “is there anything else you wish to show me?” I hummed, squeezing her fingers as I began to lead her back out to the main hall, leading her up the stairs.

Most of the 2nd floor were guest rooms and the family suites, but there were a few rooms of interest; such as the game room, the smoking room, and the music room, filled with various instruments that I hadn't learned to play. Other than the piano-but then I really didn’t play it much nowadays. We had passed up the upstairs lounge since that’s where the Alexanders were having their reunion.

“you must be so bored every day.” (y/n) teased, leaning on the rails with me as I rolled my eyes fondly. “I mean-there’s like, nothing to do~!” I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as (y/n) giggled away, still holding the book and flower in her hands.

“yeah, thankfully I do have lord of the manor stuff to keep me entertained.” I hummed, giving (y/n) a soft grin as she continued to laugh, then her smile turned curious, glancing back at the music room before turning back to me. “You said you play the piano, right?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. I nodded, leaning off the rails and shoving my hands in my pockets, smiling as (y/n) shrugged towards the music room. “Do you think you could show me?”

I nodded with a grin, leading her back into the room and taking a seat at the piano that was at least a century old now. “It’s beautiful,” (y/n) whispered as she ran her fingers against the top edge, looking back at me as I began to play, starting with some warm-ups since I really hadn't played in a while.

“I haven’t played in a while so forgive me if I hit the wrong key,” I said with an almost nervous chuckle, hoping she liked how I played…and if she would remember what I planned to play. It had been such a dear song to her-one her mother sang before her unfortunate death. (y/n) just shook her head, giving me a soft smile as she rested her elbows on the edge of the piano. “You aren’t performing for a judge, just play what you like,” I nodded, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves and pressing my fingers to those ivory keys, the familiar melody I had worked hard to perfect floating through the room.

(y/n) stopped breathing, and I glanced up at her as her eyes filled with tears, her hand drawing up to her necklace. “I know this,” she whispered, I just hummed-pretending I hadn't heard her as I continued to play. She remembered this-her mother's song. I held back a watery smile as (y/n) began to sing, those familiar lyrics I hadn't heard from her in so long.

I remembered she used to sing it to me while I worked, or was sick; her soft voice soothing the aches in my body as I let myself be tucked away in her arms. I felt tears in my eyes as she continued to sing, her voice something I never thought I would hear ever again. “call up your men, dilly dilly, set them to work. some to the plough, dilly dilly, some to the fork. Some to make hay, dilly dilly, some to cut corn. While you and I, dilly dilly, keep ourselves warm.”

Her voice was as soft and beautiful as I remembered it, like cresting snow on a fresh winter's eve, like mourning doves on a summer morning, like soft windchimes on a windy day. Oh how I had missed her, I had missed her so much.

As she softly sang the last verse, I joined in, my voice a bit rough from underuse-I wasn’t much of a singer, (y/n) had always said I had a good voice, but I didn’t like singing all that much-I preferred to hear (y/n) sing. “Lavenders green, dilly dilly, lavenders blue, you must love me, dilly dilly, for I love you.” I swallowed harshly as I pulled away from the keys, looking up to see (y/n) in tears, the necklace clutched tightly in her hand.

I stood, stepping around the piano and getting close to her. “You remember that?” I asked, my hands hovering over her shoulders, wanting to hug her so all her pain would disappear. “It-it was my mother’s song,” she whispered, fiddling with the gem of the necklace “and-I sang it to him when we were kids-and when he would be stuck in his study…I’m sorry, fuck I’m such a mess.” Tears streamed down her cheeks and I quickly opened my arms, inviting her for a hug-to which she easily tipped into my arms and sobbed into my chest. I held her close-rubbing the back of her head with my thumb as I squeezed her gently. “it’s okay, I-I don’t really understand but it must be intense to remember things you never even thought you had. I’m-I’m just glad they seem to be good memories.” I muttered, smiling softly as (y/n) nodded against my shoulder, sniffing as she cuddled into me.

I held her for a bit longer, pushing my cheek against her head-closing my eyes as I let myself fall into the belief that I held her as my own-as my darling (y/n), and not as the girl who hardly knew her place in my life-as if she wasn’t my entire universe. “Can-can you play another?” (y/n) asked after a few quiet moments and I nodded, pulling back and cupping her face to make sure she was okay. I gently wiped a tear from her chin and sat back down at the piano, playing a piece she wouldn't know since I didn’t want to overwhelm her.

As she relaxed my mind wandered. What would be too much? What would be too little? What was the line in the sand for her memories? Something as simple as a hand gesture from me had brought something back, yet the visage of her parents hadn't.

Maybe the portraits had been too much for her brain-and it protected her from remembering too much in such a short time. And yet she remembered my father and older sister, one of which was an unfinished portrait. I was thrown from my thoughts as I realized one of the keys was soundless, I continued to press it as I stood-examining the wires that connected to each key.

“The one you’re trying to play is missing,” (y/n) muttered, pointing out the missing wire-the one Emmaline had used to decapitate herself not so long ago. I cursed under my breath; I was sure that would’ve been replaced by now-the rail she had used as an anchor had yet to be repaired as well. It had been over 50 years now, practically 100 since her death-and yet my staff had yet to repair or replace things so easily replaceable.

I sucked at my teeth, forcing away my frustration as I locked eyes with (y/n), standing and giving her an apologetic smile. “Apologies, it seems I won’t be able to play my full performance,” I gave her a mock bow, smiling as she laughed, shaking her head as I stood to my full height. “That’s fine, thank you for playing.” She said as she made her way towards the door, I followed her; bowing my head again.

“Of course, it was my pleasure.” My head felt light as she smiled at me over her shoulder, holding the book and flower close to her chest as I closed the door behind me, hands in my pockets as I followed her lead down the hall. “Well, that would conclude our tour, minus the family suites and my bedroom, but I think that would be a bit inappropriate.” She laughed and nodded, agreeing with the notion that-yeah it would be weird to show her rooms that other people were staying in.

“Yeah, pushing on privacy, I’ve already seen Evie’s room through,” (y/n) mumbled, our eyes flickering to the clock as it rang. It was exactly 12pm. Damn-time had gone by so quickly, but wasn’t that always the case when you were having fun? “Wow it’s already noon?” (y/n) muttered to herself, looking up at me as I took the small of her back, pushing her towards the upstairs lounge.

“I believe it’s time for lunch, come, let us join the Alexader’s.” (y/n) nodded, leaning into me as I led the way to the lounge, pushing open the door and letting (y/n) inside first, smiling as she bee-lined it to Evie; who looked just as happy to see (y/n) as she did. “(y/n)!” Evie cheered, holding out her arms for a hug-to which (y/n) happily indulged in, stealing Evie’s glass and taking a sip before Evie stole it back.

“How was your tour?” Evie whispered to (y/n) in a knowingly teasing voice, and it made me wonder how much Evie know, how much she had figured out. She couldn’t know I was Harrison-but she clearly had the inkling of my true feelings for (y/n). (y/n) just huffed gently at Evie, leaning her head on Evie’s shoulder as Alfred spoke up-and the way he spoke made me want to claw out his other eye.

“so this must be the infamous (y/n)? I’ve heard you’ve kept the lord company for the last few hours.” he hummed, his only eye directly on (y/n), his voice suggesting that (y/n) was nothing but a woman to satisfy me, like she was a common whore. All the other Alexander were staring at her as well, and not in curiosity, but animosity. They didn’t like her-and I had a feeling why. They didn’t like I wasn’t paying attention to Evie, the woman who had been brought here for the contract-and yet I look to a girl who none of them recognized girl none of them knew had a very strong connection to me.

I held back a snarl-my eyes on Alfred. I could feel how uncomfortable (y/n) was, the feeling creeping up my neck and making me want to bear my fangs and claws, to tuck her away in my arms and destroy what had shamed her. “i-I suppose?” (y/n) muttered out, nearly hiding her face in Evie’s neck, Evie curling her arm protectively around (y/n) and glaring back at them-clearly feeling the same energy I was. “he-he invited me to breakfast, then he gave me a tour, it’s-it’s more like he kept me company.”

Fuck this. I wasn’t going to just stand here and let them leer at her. It was lunch anyway-and I did have one planned out for us, one that included Evie-since I would have to make some sort of effort with her to not arouse suspicion. “Evie,” I said suddenly, shocking everyone out of their stupor, Evie and (y/n) looked at me, (y/n) nearly looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Like hell.

“would you like to join me for lunch?” I asked her, hoping she would easily get the hint as I glanced between (y/n) and the Alexander family. she nodded, easily catching my hastily thrown idea and gently grabbing (y/n)’s hand to lead her to lunch “I would love to,” Evie said, passing by me and nodding as I told her where it was, and that (y/n) knew the way.

(y/n) glanced back at me and the room, her shoulders rising as she caught Oliver’s eye, who glared back at her full of near hate. Oh well, I just couldn’t have that? Could I? I checked no maids were in the room before turning back on the family, letting my eyes flash and my fangs show. A low warning growl settled in my chest-one not too far from my true forms growl-but that one could shake a castle, this one was low and snarling-a stalking sensation almost. “I will say this once, and only once. Disrespect Ms. (y/n) again and I will destroy all that you have. If you even think about her in such a way, I will know. So mark my words. Respect her or face my wrath.”

I reveled in the fear I felt from all of them, the unexpected whirl around I had on them. They clearly did not sense the same fondness Evie had felt from me for (y/n), they clearly had decided their brains were to be left at home if they treated my darling (y/n) in such a way.

If I were a crueler man, I would’ve killed one of them-just to make a point, or take Alfred’s other eye. But (y/n) had always been a good influence on me, and it was fortunate for the Alexader’s that she still was. It was unfortunate for them that Oliver decided to speak. “But-but who is she, my lord? What does she have that Evie doesn’t?” his mouth snapped shut as I turned to glare directly at him, feeling a heat begin to boil in my chest. “And-and who is Harrison? I-we weren’t aware you had a brother?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle, foolish fucking mortals. I couldn’t blame Evie for talking about my supposed brother(one that never existed), but for Oliver to gain the courage-nay-the stupidity to bring it up as laughable.

I just turned on my heel, leaving the family with one final warning and no explanation. “As I said, disrespect (y/n), and you will all fall.” I practically slammed the door behind me-straightening my hair and making my way out to the patio.

They were damn lucky I preferred spending time with (y/n) than making sure they knew their place.

-end of p3-

yeeeee p3 babes, this one was a long one~ and has way more content than the (y/n) pov from p4 XD p4 of ouad was about 11 pages, this ones 26 XD

taglist~!

@sessediz @reallystressedhoneybee @reallysparklychaos @taetae123094

[exsanguinatc]

It was almost comical, really- the sight of the soft, smiling princess held tightly against the bloody beast who was known to bare his teeth at anyone who got too close to her. At least, Keiran thought it was. The shocked faces of the palace staff said otherwise. It was like they feared for the princess when she was under his arm. That was even more absurd though. In truth, she was in more danger from them than she ever was from him. Any of them could decide at any moment that they wanted her blood and then decide to go after her for it. He didn't need her blood to sustain immortality or heal damage that was so difficult to do to his body anyway. Fragility wasn't a hallmark of his kind, but greed was a hallmark of man's. So he felt no guilt over feeding into their fear. They all needed to know exactly what stood between them and the princess if they ever chose to step out of line.

As eager as he was to weaponize their fear though, he couldn't help but chuckle at Viktoria's comment about palace procedure as he pulled his door open and guided her inside. "I don't think letting the monster in the woods follow you home is how palace procedure works either, but that didn't seem to stop you, did it?" He teased, leaning down to be eye level with her and tapping a finger against the tip of her nose. Not that he'd given her much of a choice. He'd all but threatened those in charge to not oppose him taking the post of her guard after he'd first seen her. "So how much can you really care about palace procedure anyway?"

he was a monster, she knew that. she understood that. she knew people were frightened of him, with good reason. keiran hadn't always been a friend to humanity. she remember first meeting him and bring a little frightened at first. a monster sent to protect a princess. viktoria wasn't sure he was the man- or beast- for the job.

she'd seen a lot of violence in her short life. people who tried to kill her to take her blood. her main fear wasn't being killed, but captured. often, she had nightmares about sitting in a dungeon somewhere, bleeding gold until there was none left. when her power was revealed at as a baby, it sent shockwaves throughout the kingdom. she would never be safe again. until she met him.

being tucked into his side made her warm, made her skin flush with bashfulness. she smiled kindly at the passing servants. it couldn't be easy working here. or cleaning up the mess that awaited them in her room. "that's not really how palace procedure works," viktoria murmured, though she followed him anyway.

[violettesiren]

The white porcelain plate with the blue peahens still there from summer's morning— now we've carefully washed it, it goes so well with the snow, the window frosted over, bluish, days' cool rays come visiting even through the rime, ringing in the severe frost, syllabic, silver voiced, and the sky in the mirror, all frosted over- seconds threaded on a ray, as if of pearl, knock with their tears, and the room huddles under the snowy wave, and much too red an apple will be there, and breathing will seem too hot, too fast— the frozen earth echoing like granite.

Still Life With Window Frosted Over by Judita Vaičiūnaitė (Translated by Viktoria Skrupskeli)

[hydraschaos]

Where: The Bastion For: @sntsagcstines

Finally getting to their room felt like a blessing to Viktoria. Exhausted from all the mingling, people voices getting louder in her head the longer she had stayed in the ballroom. She had always liked the quiet calm of her office, surrounded by nothing but screens, numbers and codes for her to break through. Or the comforting silence of their room, with only Davika's captivating voice gracing her ears. They didn't often stayed at the Bastion though, but Viktoria could still appreciate the privacy of such a secluded room for someone so high up The Table.

Her arms had been around her wife the moment they had walked in, and she had pressed herself against her back in a tight embrace, taking in the lovely perfume that often helped ease her mind. A kiss had been placed on her wife's shoulder as her hands splayed on her stomach before the lights went out. Viktoria moved back with a frown. She didn't like this, the sinking feeling in her gut twisting horribly, she had been on edge most of the night, keeping a sharp eye out to protect her wife. Frontiniano's death working as a reminder that very few were to trust and in a room full of assassins and more, Viktoria trusted no one. "I'll call management." She told her wife, making her way blindly to the phone in their room, coming up with a dead line that only worsened the dread growing in her chest. "Why don't you check if there's anyone out that could explain what's happening, my love? I'll get my phone."

[imagesforrenewal]

How Fairy Tales Came To Be

Truth is stranger than fiction. ~Mark Twain

The events actually happened in the past but it’s impossible in the retelling to evoke every detail or the exact sequence or dates or particulars about the characters since memory selects with the passage of time

as the years go by  the recounter simplifies and exaggerates edits and embellishes cuts and dramatizes sculpting a full cast of heroes and villains quests and triumphs pathos and passion into fantastical hyper relief —

then along comes the fabulist who believes something is missing in hearing and reciting the narrative (as captivating as it might be) certainly a fairy tale must have a purpose teach a lesson edify good behavior — hence the embedded message

ah, such brilliance spinning in the human imagination — golden thread, golden hair golden fleece, golden lion golden sword, golden bird golden egg, golden apple golden flute, golden harp golden throne, golden castle golden key … and a golden touch that turns everything in life to luster.

~Viktoria Vidali

[ad0rati0ns]

there was an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, a feeling that viktoria dismissed as anxious butterflies. to have so many people in the room staring and asking questions about her and peter's future- it made her nervous. nevertheless, viktoria was notorious for dressing well and showing manners. she was raised to be the perfect little wife. though she had been unhappy for a long time, peter finally brought some life back into her. like a flower pushing through a cold winter snow.

she deserved to be happy. she deserved to love and be loved. if peter's family was anything like he described, viktoria would be welcomed with opened arms. she only hoped she lived up to everyone's expectations.

she walked into the room with peter, their arms interlocked. she had a smile on her face as she took in the estate and his family. what a beautiful new beginning her for.

blue eyes scanned the room, her smile faltering at the all too familiar face of alex. her first love. really, her only love. her brows furrowed in confusion. he should be dead. or at least that's what she told herself to get through his absence. it was easier to accept than his duty being above her.

open to: ladieees (the woman alex was once engaged to) connection: after a broken engagement and years at war, alex finds himself face-to-face with y/m, who was once supposed to be his future wife. duty pushed him to join the war despite her pleas to stay with her, so naturally, everything went to hell. now a couple of weeks after he's returned from war, his younger brother throws a family dinner, for his family to finally meet his future wife. and surprise, surprise, it's y/m m: lord alexander blackwood ; 30+ yrs olds ; nobleman & former military for the crown ; bio

alex stood on the front steps of blackwood estate, gazing out over the sprawling countryside of yorkshire. the winds were cooler here, less stifling than the heat he had known on the front lines, but the tension in his chest was no less oppressive. he had returned from war a couple of weeks ago, battered and bruised—not just in body, but in soul. the invitation to dinner at his family’s estate seemed like a lifeline at the time. his brother had written him, brimming with excitement about introducing the family to his future wife. but now, as alex stood in front of the grand entrance, hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat, he felt an unease that had nothing to do with the cold wind sweeping across the estate grounds. he took a deep breath and entered, the familiar grandeur of blackwood’s high ceilings and polished floors offering little comfort. the grand dining hall loomed ahead, a fire already crackling in the massive hearth. the long oak table was set, silverware gleaming under the chandelier’s light. their mother fussed over the final touches, rearranging vases of flowers as though they hadn’t been set just perfectly by the servants hours ago.

"alex, dear, you're early," she said, giving him a warm smile as he entered.

he nodded, forcing a smile. "i thought i’d have a drink before everyone arrives."

"good idea," she said, smoothing her apron before disappearing through one of the side doors.

the estate felt both comforting and alien after years away. everything was just as he had left it—familiar and untouched by the passing time. everything except for him. war had made sure of that. pouring himself a drink from the sideboard, alex leaned against the stone mantel, staring into the fire. he hadn’t seen his brother since before he had left for war. they had exchanged letters, of course, but words on paper didn’t fully capture how much time had passed or how much had changed. his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the large front doors opening, his brother’s booming voice echoing through the halls. alex’s heartbeat quickened. he straightened, setting his glass down just as the footman entered to announce the new arrivals. his brother entered first, as expected—bright-eyed, grinning from ear to ear. there was no mistaking his enthusiasm. the war had hardly touched him, and in moments like this, alex envied that naivety, that sense of life still being easy and bright.

and then... she entered.

alex froze, every muscle tensing as though he’d been hit by a blast. time seemed to slow, and the noise of the room—the laughter, the clatter of dishes—faded into a distant hum. the woman on his brother's arm was her. the woman he once loved. the woman he was supposed to marry before the war.

[monriatitans]

Ta-Da! List: Saturday, January 13th

I have decided to make a “Ta-Da! List” every day! There won’t be TMI.

Don’t know what a “Ta-Da! List” is? To learn more, check out @adhdjesse‘s book Extra Focus here.

✧ Jan. 12th: – WGS Carrd: added links/more information, then updated the mini ASO gallery – GoodReads: added the MT Carrd, then updated the “Currently Reading�� section with the TBR Stack, and added “Untypical”, by Pete Wharmby, to the “Read” section ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ throughout the day: – moved between the bedroom and office setups – kept emails manageable by deleting some and unsubscribing from newsletters ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ on the bedroom setup: – alternated between watching “Coraline” and reading books – finished sharing the Jan. 12th Ta-Da! List – GoodReads: reorganized the bookshelves and books; scanned books using the app ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ on the office setup: – MonriaTitans’ Bookshop: updated the Banner Image – gave a human artist, Viktoria Forest, a shout-out by sharing it on the WGS/O&T IGs, created a Featured Image for it, and then shared it to O&T and social media; where the shout-out spread was listed in the BMAC January 2024 Artist Shout-Outs Album – added information to the intros of the “January 2024 Artist Shout-Outs” and the “Artist Shout-Outs of 2024” Albums – WGS Carrd: continued adding links/more information – Tumblr: updated the Header Image, Side Bar links, and the FFXIV Character Info Page – The Titans’ Discord: updated the #final-fantasy-xiv channel – FFXIV: did some inventory & Venture management with the Retainers; tended the crops in the apartment; completed the Tribal Quests with the Red Mage – wrote the poem “New Year”, created a Canva design for it, and achieved the “Canva 200 Design Milestone Badge“, then created a Feature Image, and then shared it to the TMA/O&T IGs, the TMA FB Page, O&T, Tumblr, the O&T/WGS FB Pages, Pinterest, the TMA Threads and Carrd, Hive, Minds, the TMA Ko-fi, Bluesky, BMAC, and Medium – TMA Carrd: rearranged the layout and added links – O&T: added the ASO and today’s poem to the “January 2024” and the “2024” wrap-up posts, updated their “Poems Shared” sections, created the “Poetry of 2024” pattern and added it to the Experience Page, then updated its “To Prevent Overwhelm” section – prepared the ASO for tomorrow, Jan. 14th – Medium: rediscovered two forgotten medium accounts and posted a Story to the one being used going forward ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ chores: – loaded the dishwasher – checked the mail – began taking inventory of all the books

—

Well, these are all the updates I had for today! Thank you for reading!

May every decision you make be *in the spirit of fairness* and may the rest of your day *NOT go to $#!7*!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please consider supporting through the tip page or Buy Me a Coffee! Like what you see? Click here to subscribe for updates! Watch MonriaTitans on Twitch and YouTube! For more about MonriaTitans, click here! The images were made in Canva!

[byneddiedingo]

Valentina Cortese and Richard Basehart in The House on Telegraph Hill (Robert Wise, 1951)

Cast: Valentina Cortese, Richard Basehart, William Lundigan, Fay Baker, Gordon Gebert, Steven Geray, Herb Butterfield, Natasha Lytess, Kei Thin Chung, John Burton, Katherine Meskill, Mario Siletti. Screenplay: Elick Moll, Frank Partos, based on a novel by Dana Lyon. Cinematography: Lucien Ballard. Art direction: John DeCuir, Lyle R. Wheeler. Film editing: Nick DeMaggio. Music: Sol Kaplan.

The key to a successful thriller is to keep the audience from asking those questions you're not supposed to ask: Why did X do that instead of that? What caused Y to act that way? Would a sane person really behave that way? And when the film ends, have all the loose threads been accounted for? The House on Telegraph Hill just barely manages to dodge those questions, except at the end. It's sometimes rather clumsily put together. For example, we are led to believe at the beginning that the film is being narrated in voiceover by the protagonist, Viktoria Kowalska (Valentina Cortese). But in mid-film we watch a conversation that Viktoria could not have overheard. We later find that the voiceover is actually Viktoria telling her story to investigators, but the momentary break in point of view is jarring. The ending, too, feels rushed. We have invested enough time in the story that we need a clearer outcome for Viktoria and others. The premise is a familiar one, given a postwar spin: A woman pretends to be someone she isn't and suffers the consequences. In Viktoria's case, she was a prisoner in the Belsen concentration camp, where she befriended Karin Dernakova (Natasha Lytess), who died there after telling Viktoria that she had a son who had been sent at the start of the war to live with her aunt in San Francisco. When the camp is liberated, Viktoria, who has no family of her own left in Poland, finds it expedient to assume the identity of Karin, whose papers she has been given for safekeeping. Viktoria is well-meaning; she doesn't really plan to defraud anyone, but through a rather rushed-through series of circumstances, she winds up in San Francisco pretending to be the mother of Karin's child, Chris (Gordon Gebert). Not only that, she also marries Chris's guardian, Alan Spender (Richard Basehart). So now she finds herself in an elegant mansion on the top of Telegraph Hill, playing mother to a boy who stands to inherit a fortune. And of course she also finds herself in danger. Cortese's performance makes some of this credible, but it was her only important film in America: She married her co-star, Basehart, and returned to Italy. He went with her, but except for Federico Fellini's La Strada (1954) and Il Bidone (1955), his European films were undistinguished, and he returned to the States after their divorce in 1960. The House on Telegraph Hill is plenty watchable, if only because of cinematographer Lucien Ballard's use of the San Francisco location.     

[ichimakesart]

The Thread

Depicting Viktoria which belongs to @mayaminamoto

~☆◇Prints◇☆~▪︎~☆◇Commissions◇☆~▪︎~☆◇Kofi◇☆~▪︎~☆◇My Game on Steam◇☆~▪︎~☆◇For inquiries: ichimakes@gmail.com◇☆~

[hydraschaos]

For years, she's lived a lawless life. Hidden in the shadows, untraceable, unreachable. Treating the world like an infinite code for the to decipher, change, play with and break. Do with it as she pleases from a place so high above, not even the best players in the world could find her. Viktoria had never existed to the law, was a nameless face in masses of crowds, no one surrounded by thousands. And she had reveled in it, enjoyed the taste of being a ghost and threw herself fully into it. She was a drop of water lost in the sea. Ready to take on entire cities in the might of her fingers and a wave of digital horror. But her curious mind had always been strong, alive. It's what made her grow into what she is, and what led her to allow The Table to find her. And with it, a whole new world she had never been privy to opened up before her eyes. In biting words and sharp smiles, challenges she was determined to win.

She had never knew devotion until she met Davika. Her love for her only closely followed by the pride she felt for the empire she's created. An entity not even The Table could control just yet. Even when she knew herself to be more than willing to please her wife in anything she wished.

"Didn't I hear you calling it yours before?." She smirked back, her hand falling on top of the one Davika has pressed against her chest, holding it there, feeling it close. "You don't get to give me orders, love... you're not my boss, but..." A pause. "Since you ask so nicely, I might just forget about what's her name, after all... a happy wife, is a happy life." Taking hold of Davika's hand, she pried it gently from where it was digging into her chest, moving it up to press a light kiss against her palm. "You're always free to do both, my love, if you find you have the chance to sneak out of here."

In her hands lay pictures of Viktoria whenever they are not together; she finds it hard to breathe when the woman is gone. A devotion Davika never thought possible now takes root in her heart, occupying the space between her ribcage and her diaphragm, painful swallows of air filling her lungs with a sweet poison slowly eating her inside out. A past stained with dirt and blood gives way to a present of smiles and happiness the blonde never thought existed. The hands that pull the trigger living as a marionette having her strings pulled doesn't deserve this kind of love and adoration, of that she is sure. The swiftly delivery of justice in a lawless underworld by her slim hands leaves a trail of blood she cannot escape; stains so deeply in her core it's carved into her very bones. A life of luxury cannot hide that. A happy wife can't remedy the lives she has taken. Even her encounter with Vik was heavily coiled in violence. A hunt for a man whose head would bring her to glory. Despite the guilt weighing her heart, part of her is content Vik chose to love her still.

A strange feeling, love. She loved her sister like an ant must love another. Loves her parents like birds must care for each other. Is loved in return as much as they can provide. And yet, she loves Davika as the ocean loves the earth, the moon loves the stars, life loves death. Strange, indeed.

A chuckle, then, hand resting on the chest of a wife she would destroy the world for, a butterfly touch like a careless whisper on a rainy night. “Your room? Huh. Could swear it was ours.” A smirk. “You are not breaking her, or hurting her. It was a harmless comment that we will forget about, won't we?” A command presented as a question, a raise of a brow challenging defiance, fingers digging deeper in the softness of a chest she desires to bury herself into. Be one with this spectacular woman in all the ways she can. “Should I spin you around like a jewel I wish to brag about, my love? Or should we go to our room where I can show you just how brilliant I can be?”

[galynakhrushch]

Dear Friends,yesterday my Husband and me celebrated Pride Yoga and Dance Party event.

This event was mark the second year of Pride Yoga at The Rady Shell at Jacobs Park during San Diego Pride Month. The hour-long sunset yoga class was taken place on the lawn started at 7pm led once again by FIT Athletic’s very own, Viktoria Talbot. Yogis of all levels were encouraged to attend as this was a general level class, with modifications instructed . Guests at this event were treated to a panorama of Coronado Island and a breathtaking golden hour sunset over the San Diego Bay.

After class, The Rady Shell was transformed into an epic Dance Party with returning musical guest DJ Sassy and new guest DJ Dova. We were excited a lot with this wonderful event and have had so much fun .

Yours Dr.Galyna Khrushch and my Husband Christopher A.Jilly🙏🏻🇺🇸🌈🧘🏼‍♀️🧘🏼‍♀️🧘🏼‍♀️

#Dr.GalynaKhrushch#plastic-surgeon#rhinoplasty#blepharoplasty#liposaction#threads#botox#fatgrafing#miocanthopexy#canthoplasty#miocanthoplasty#lowerblepharoplasty#botox#threadlifting#rhibnoplasty#liposaction#nanofat#sandiego#rhinoplasty#loveusa#lipaugmentation#nanofatgrafting#allergan#juvéderm#allergan#rhinoplasty#blepharoplasty#veteransday#cleftpalate#cleftlips#maxillofacialsurgeon#plasticsurgeon#rhinoplasty#lovemyfamily#yoga

[aamatchintowaterr]

closed starter for @hallowghoul​ (viktoria) location: whatever bar vik works at

Visiting the bar seemed like the only fun thing to do most of the time.  Maybe that was unfair of him, but it was no secret that Benji didn’t exactly like it in Centralia.  Nevertheless, he tried to find pockets of good things between the long stretches of boredom.

“What’s there to do in your spare time here anyway?” he grumbled, sort of to himself, but also at the bartender, who he had learned grew up here.  “I barely know what to do with myself.”