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frizzle-mcshizzle · 7 months ago

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CAN I HAVE SOME KESLERxJULINE HCS??

YES YES YES 1000X YES (sorry this took so long) i really want to start calling them frosted beakers because it sounds cooler. anyways.

Juline struggled to control her ability after she first manifested because not only did she manifest at 14 much later than the rest of her peers, her ability is more connected to her emotions than it is for most fosters, making people around her see her as unstable and unpredictable, which upset her/made her angry, which make her ability harder to control and it was an endless cycle.

Kesler was a dorky curly haired 15yo with glasses and wasn't afraid of her and saw her as another noble kid he had to tutor to make sure his mentors still liked him and he wouldn't get sent to Exilium for some random made up reason

Juline didn't want to be in alchemy class, her parents pulled her out of her art class to go to the advanced alchemy class when she hadn't gone to alchemy class in years. so she was missing her favorite class and was now in a class she didn't understand forced to go tutoring with some dorky boy (who was a little cute (not cute enough to make her enjoy the class though)

eventually Kesler called out her behavior towards him not expecting anything to come out of it. but instead she apologized and said it wasn't fair of her to treat him like that. Kesler was shocked that she actually treated him like a person and Juline was offended that he would expect her to treat him otherwise. over the next several weeks they ended up having a lot of fun in the tutoring sessions together.

Juline played bramble in foxfire and it's something she genuinely enjoyed and was good at Kesler on the other hand couldn't play to save his life. Kesler lover to watch her play. because it was the only time he ever saw her smile so wide that her dimples would show.

they ended becoming close friends and then dating when they where around 17. they spent a lot of time around Kesler's family home as there was a forest right outside of the neighborhood he lived in. they spent a lot of time by the river because Juline could practice her ability and it was private and away from prying eyes, so they had the freedom to do what they pleased without comments about bad matches

the first spring they where dating Juline got really excited when snowdrops peaked through the snow and after that Kesler started to call her snowdrop. the nickname stuck for the rest of their lives, and they started buy each other jewelry with each others flowers on them

Juline was forced to go the elite levels by her parents, because they hoped that she and Kesler would break up with the distance and they wouldn't have to deal with a bad match for a daughter

they successfully avoided having a bad match daughter as well, Kesler was constantly being told he would ruin her life and Juline was struggling to keep up with writing letters and homework and classes didn't help. on top of that her parents wanted her to go to all these windowing gala's and she just complied because it was easier than fighting them on it. she also thought maybe just maybe her parents would realize she didn't love anyone else and would except the fact that wanted to marry Kesler.

they broke up around the time Juline graduated because Kesler wanted to protect her from the scorn, and he told her to find someone who would give her what she deserved because he couldn't.

they stayed apart for a few years neither dating anyone else because Kesler regretted what he did with everything in his soul but didn't think she would forgive him, and some part of him believed it was the right decision because he wanted her to live without scorn. Juline had given up on going to windowing gala's and decided to focus on her work because she didn't want to do anything else.

Kesler's older brother Eben went to the matchmaking office to get his third match list and Juline was on it. he decided to invite her, not because he was remotely interested in her but because on the off chance she came he wanted to give his little brother a second chance with the woman he still loved.

Juline went to Eben's windowing gala hoping that for some dumb reason Kesler would be there, the gala was hosted in a forest not far from the dizznee family home. not a lot of people came because they didn't want to go a 5th born's gala,

while there wasn't a lot of people present compared to the other gala's Juline had been to there was still enough people present for Juline to find it overwhelming. She asked Kesler's mom who was helping her son host if Kesler was there and she pointed down the path Juline knew all too well. it headed right to the river where she and Kesler had spent so much time together.

Juline took a deep breath and headed down the path telling herself that she would give Kesler a peice of her mind, because how dare he decide for her whats good for her, if she wanted to live with scorn she would she wasn't some coward who couldn't handle it.

Kesler was sitting on the fallen tree by the river and wouldn't even look her in the eyes. Juline lost all words she had in her head the second she saw him. all she could say was "i missed you Kesler"

they talk and talk and talk until the sun goes down. tears are shead apologies are made again and again and again, they stay by the river until dark, then even longer. Kesler asks Juline if they could start over, start from the beginning, and Juline agrees in a heartbeat, they part with promises to call in the morning,

Juline returns home with a hope in her heart for the future, not caring how it would effect her cushy noble job. she got Kesler back, she finally got him back.

Kesler didn’t stop thanking Eben for what he did, and Eben told him he owed Kesler after how he treated him in the past, Kesler was just happy to have his best friend back, he had always forgiven a little to easily.

Juline and Kesler dated in “secret” for years (it was blantly obvious that they where heads over heels for each other to anyone that had functional eyes), while Kesler built slurps and burps up from the ground. they didn’t get married until they where in their 80s because they liked the peace of living without the full fledged scorn

when they finally decided to get married, they had their wedding at Havenfeild, Juline announced to all of her noble friends about the wedding knowing they would be horrified that she was marrying a talentless. Edaline helped with the decor, and planing the whole wedding, it was actually quite small and peaceful wedding. she was fired from her noble job the second their marriage went through the government,

#i actually forget that i completely made up the snowdrop thing #its so cannon in my mind #Doodle came up with frosted beakers btw #kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kesline #kotlc juline #juline dizznee #kesler dizznee #kotlc kesler #thanks for the ask!#frosted beakers #bullet point fic

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verndusk · 2 years ago

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flowers i associate with the the Bad Batch

(because im a freak for flower meanings, always. and need somewhere to write this down for when i draw the tbb flowers art project i've been thinking about)

Hunter:

nasturtium: victory in struggle, loyalty, strength

gladiolus: strength of character, faithfulness, honor, and remembrance

zinnia (mixed): thinking of an absent friend

Tech:

purple hydrangea: a want for deeper understanding

amaryllis: pride, strength and determination

hyssop: protection, health, and sacrifice

Wrecker:

larkspur: a beautiful spirit, positivity and strong bonds of love

coreopsis: always cheerful

sweet briar rose: constant love for yourself and others

Echo:

dandelion: return of life, the rebirth of growth

dried white roses: "death is preferable to loss of virtue"

freesia: freedom, trust, friendship

Crosshair:

rue: regret, genuine repentance of all transgressions

star of bethlehem: hope and forgiveness, redemption

wolfsbane: impending danger, caution, treachery

Omega:

potentilla: beloved daughter, power, strength

crocus: innocence, joy, and new-beginnings

snowdrop: consolation, hope, ability to overcome

#flower meanings #tbb #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb tech #i guess its kind of headcanon???#flowers #i'll be using these for an art project but feel free to also use it as inspiration!!!#bad batch #star wars

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illumiera · 15 days ago

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OC in Fifteen

I saw some of my mutuals (💖) posting fifteen lines of dialogue that showcased the personalities of their OCs, so I thought I'd try my hand at doing this for my Elentari in i fear no fate! 🌟

“I have slain the World-Eater, crossed into Sovngarde a living woman, and returned alive. Surely I am beyond fate by now.”

“Devious? You ought to have expected the Arch-Mage to have some tricks up her sleeves.”

"I think we are each the sum of our choices, and mine is to know myself, shadows and all, and to strive each day to be better.”

“Where I grew up, every plant had a meaning, and highborn daughters were expected to know them by rote. Snowdrops are the first flowers to bloom at the end of winter, so they symbolise hope and rebirth. There’s also a myth where a king trapped in a curse sought the aid of the flower-goddess Druagaa, who had him pick a snowdrop at midnight and keep it close to his heart for three days and three nights until the spell broke. There you are: hope, alleged magical properties, or just a nice thing to have. I’m sure you can find some use for it.”

"Thinking of you? I have better things to think about before bed than the latest person out to kill me for one reason or another.”

“In that case, I am glad to be a fool. You should be glad for it, too. If I didn’t keep faith in the face of impossible things, I would be dead—and the world you’re so desperate to return to would have died with me.”

“If you’re planning on waxing poetic about how you’ll have all of that and more when you finally take my life, you may as well save your breath. As unenviable as your situation is, I still have no intention of dying to you.”

“I already told you that you can offer me whatever you like, and none of it—none of it—will be worth the cost of my soul.”

“You want freedom and to be remembered, but how would you go about it, if you had the chance? Would you storm into Solitude or Windhelm and name yourself High King? Seize the Ruby Throne and rule all Tamriel as Emperor? Come up with some scheme or another to become a god? You don’t know, do you? You say you’ve had nothing but your want for thousands of years? I believe you, and I also don’t believe you know who you are without it.”

“What are we if not living bearers of memory? The people you spared won’t last forever unchanged like stalhrim, that’s true, but they’ll learn, and grow, and love, and create. Even if they live the simplest of lives, their children, their friends, those whose hearts they touched over the years—they’ll all go on as a testament to who they were, so that in a century, in a millennium, there’ll be a tiny piece of them left on Nirn still.”

“The winged shape of your soul is a mirror of mine, and the name Stormcrown belongs to me as much as it does to you. Maybe destiny stained you—that much I will not deny. But has it not left the same mark on me, too?”

“I have met many terrible men, men who knew they had fallen and thought only of falling farther. Your actions were not the actions of one of those men."

“I don’t think any of the gods ever forsook you. I once thought the same, a long time ago, and then they showed me just how wrong I was.”

“The food is owed to you as it is to any guest in my home, and if it will assuage you, we’ll call the clothes a gift. You need not repay me other than by putting them on so I can see if they fit. As for your life, Diist Dovahkiin, all I ask is that you live it well.”

"It's all right. I'm a healer. You're safe now."

this was fun! I tag @bostoniangirl21 and @kiir-do-faal-rahhe to do it for their OCs, too! 💖

#oc: elentari #i fear no fate (for you are my fate)#otp: i fear no fate (for you are my fate)#tag game #ellie has such a dry sense of humour when she wants to—an inevitable consequence of growing up in daggerfall's noble circles!

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 years ago

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「 series collection 」

so you wanna read something with multiple parts? well, you've come to the right place. here are all of the series I've written all accumulated in one neat place topped off with a nice bow and everything

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist

long series

sunflower

spencer reid x neighbour!painter!reader, follows seasons 9-10

chamomile

spencer reid x bau!reader, follows season 6

daisy

steve harrington x private school!reader, very slutty stuff

plum

joel miller x former firefly!reader, very dark and angsty

fused with the foe

king!steve rogers x princess!reader, original fantasy world, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers

the wistful wyvern

knight!bucky barnes x knight!reader, original fantasy world, ex-friends to lovers, forced proximity

soot and sparks

blacksmith!peter parker x farmer!reader, original fantasy world, friends to lovers (COMING SOON!)

lilac

lumberjack!frank castle x reader, the wholesomeness of running an inn in a tiny rural town

buttercup

matt murdock x baker!reader, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery

mini series

snowdrop

spencer reid x gideon!daughter!reader, pre season one + end of season 2

thistle

prince!james potter x servant!reader, set in the beginning of the 1920s

evergreen university

reader x various CE characters (Ransom Drysdale, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Steve Rogers, Frank Adler, Jake Jensen, Lloyd Hansen), slutty murder mystery

the night trilogy

bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, ex!peter parker x reader, reader’s mom is the british ambassador to france

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ibrithir-was-here · 1 year ago

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Old short story I wrote a couple of years ago and then forgot about. Remembered it the other day, gave it a bit of a brush up, and figured I'd share it. My own take on the old "Dark Snow White" retelling

Sunlight and Snowdrops

Father is sending us away tomorrow, sent for schooling at a monastery far off in the south. His new wife--The Usurper, who I will not grace with the title of queen-- tells us of the walled gardens, where pomegranates and figs grow almost year round on trees with leaves as large and tall as a man, a place where the sea still rushes up freely to meet the shore, long stretches of golden sand, forever warm to the touch.

She has talked of little else for months now, as if she and Father hope that such constant chatter will somehow soften us to the idea of our exile, make us forget the kingdom she has stolen from us, just as she has stolen his heart. And perhaps with my sisters she has somewhat succeeded . They always did take after Father, with their butter-yellow hair, and skin flushed like ripe peaches. Perhaps they were always more suited for such places. But I am my mother’s daughter, as any who look upon me can tell, and I will not be made to forget.

For how could such a flat, lurid place ever hope to compare with the beauty of my mother’s kingdom? What is a stretch of damping sea-shore to the beauty of a deep lake, forever crystallized into the finest mirror? What are walled gardens with their mad jumble of gaudy fruits to the dark towering pines, whispering to each other as the wind moves through them? What monastery could ever hope to reach heaven in the way that the mountains of the valley swell up in dark waves, to crack the egg-shell gray of the sky?

It is the blue sky of that far off place I fear most of all. What want have I for a sky of unchanging blue, suffocating in it’s immensity, with its one great burning eye beating down to peel and crack my skin in the day, and it’s thousand eyes to stare down at night? My mother’s pale sky has never once burned me, never once stared into my dreams, not with her veils of snow to protect me. Her sky is forever changing, shifting from stillness to storm on her whim. Blasting and breaking, soothing and softening, blanketing all with her beautiful covering of pure, protective white.

But my father’s new queen has poisoned its beauty for him, turning his head with her talk of salted water and coarse sand. If she wishes to retreat to such places, then I say let us be well rid of her. If my father and sisters are fools enough to follow her, to believe the lies she and her counselors and sages have spread about my mother, the rightful queen, then let them be off as well. I know the truth, I have not forgotten, I of all her daughters, have remained faithful.

There are so few of us now. So many have turned away from their true queen. But though loyalty is fragile, memory remains as firm as the ice upon the Great Lake. Despite their seeming love for the Usurper, The common people still tell my mother’s story. The Usurper thinks that because she was once one of them, a drudge plucked from obscurity by the weakness of my father’s will, that their hearts have turned to her in full.

But they can never forget my mother completely, she does not let them.

When the winds howl thick, like wolves at the door, the tale, long and wondrous and wild, is whispered between huddled crones and wide-eyed children.

A tale that takes hold of the mind and heart, as surely as the cold takes to the bones.

It begins in Winter, for indeed, how could it not?

A winter long and dark, when my grandmother, a woman wise in the old ways of the world, sat sewing at her window, looking out into the forest that spreads like an ink stain all round the castle, the snow falling heavy all around her, silencing the world as she made her request to the magic of the woods.

Three drops of her own blood she spilt to gain her heart's desire, a child for her childless king. And a child she received, a beauty such as never been seen. Hair black as the trees of the forest, lips as red as the blood she had given, and skin as white as the purest snow. A child of the winter woods, born on winter’s darkest night.

A life had been granted, and so was a life taken away. My grandmother lived long enough to bless my mother with her name, and the king, who once had so longed for a child, was now too grieved to bear the sight of his new daughter. And so my mother was given over to the wife of the castle’s woodsman, recently blessed with a child of her own, and who, most importantly, lived in a cottage on the edge of the woods, far, far away from the castle grounds, and her mourning father’s eye.

For seven years my mother grew up in the care of the woodsman’s family, as loved as if she were their own blood daughter, and the girls loved each other as sisters. They spent many days beneath the shadows of the trees, and learned much from the woods. They say even then, before she had come into her power, that the creatures and spirits of that place knew my mother as part of their blood, knew that something of her had come from something within them, and protected her for it.

It was in the winter of her fifth year that she met my father, a lad of nine, trapped within an enchanted bearskin. She and her foster sister brought him into the warmth of their cabin, saving his life, and each winter for three years after, he returned. She told me once that those winters were some of the happiest memories of her life, surrounded by those she loved in the shelter of the snows.

It was in summer that her sorrows came.

It was in summer that my mother discovered the gnome that had cursed her bear, and by his death my father was freed from his enchantment, only to then return to his own far off kingdom. It was in summer that my mother was parted from her foster family, recalled to court at last--only to find her own usurper on her father’s arm.

The people of the land adored the lady who had come to them out of the sun-drenched south, calling her their Summer Queen, praising her for the abundance that had blessed the lands since she had wed the king. And surely there was never a woman so beautiful. They say that her hair flowed like sunlight itself down her shoulders until it touched the floor, braided all over with flowers of every hew, and her eyes were as blue and bright as an August morning.

My mother said she could feel those eyes trying to melt her the moment she was brought before them.

My mother was not at court long. One day, the Summer Queen surprised her with a visit from her foster-father, and though he smiled at her, his eyes seemed grim and troubled. They traveled together down to the edge of the woods, far from the eyes of any in the castle--and there he took out the knife, carved all over with flowers, to cut out her heart.

(He claimed later, when the coup was over, and my mother restored to the throne, that he had only done so to protect his family, his own little daughter. My mother granted him the same pity he had shown her, and sent him into the woods, alone and unarmed. I do not know to this day if he fell to the animals or the cold that finally came, but by all accounts, he was never seen again.)

My mother, for her part, wandered for months alone beneath the boughs of the woods. The animals did not harm her, the woods knew its own, but she dared not venture near the edges where human souls still delt, fearful now that any might betray her to the Summer Queen. And as remarkable as she was, she was still only a child, and had never had to care for herself before, and she longed for the cheer and company of creatures like herself.

More than that, the heat of a seemingly endless summer wore at her. August passed into September and September to October and on, with nary a change to be seen. The leaves on the trees remained green, and did not fall. The rivers ran along as full and fat as ever, though there was no snow left to feed them. The sun felt like a great eye, searching for her beneath the sheltering shadows of the forest. Only at night did she find respite, and she longed for the relief of a winter that never came.

Farther and farther she wandered, seeking someplace where she might find some sign of chance, some shelter from the daylight that stretched longer and longer. At last, she found herself upon the slopes of the farthest mountain. Her feet were worn ragged from wandering, and her tongue was cracked from the heat, but with the last of her strength, she managed to stagger to the summit, and there, in a hollow tucked into the dark shadows of the peaks, so dark that even the hottest of summers could not fully touch them, she found snow.

And there her strength finally deserted her. She lay down upon the snow as contentedly as if it had been a feather bed, and might have slipped into the endless sleep beneath that cold coverlet, had it not been for the little men.

The frozen-beards, the valley people call them. Dwarfs that live in the fields of ice upon the mountains, having little to do with the valley people. They delight in the cold, they are said to be able to call up snow storms to hide their homes,and in winter they might be seen galloping along in the wake of an avalanche as happy as a child at play. But for all the ice of their beards, they are warm of heart, and they took the half-frozen child into their home as readily as if she had been one of their own.

For seven years, my mother at last knew peace. In the caves of the mountains she learned much of the songs and stories and skill of her new family. She learned the shaping of swords and the setting of gems,and the summoning of wind and fog, and was happy.

But nothing lasts forever, and at last, summer found her patch of hidden winter.

The king of a far-off land had proclaimed his intention to visit our valley kingdom, which had grown in renown-- and profit-- thanks to the summer that seemed trapped within the crown of our mountain valley. The rivers and Great Lake were never clear of vessels shipping goods out and bringing gold in. Both people and purses grew fat from the bounty, and basked in the seemingly endless sunshine.

There was one stain however, upon the glorious reign of the Summer Queen, though it was only spoken of in whispers, for it would not do to complain of such small misfortune within the wake of so many blessings.

The Draining Sickness.

It came on quickly, overnight in some cases. Those afflicted withered away, drained, pale and almost bloodless, like unwatered plants beneath the noon-day sun. No one knew how it spread, it seemed to only strike one village at a time; and oddly the most healthy and comely succumbed first, as if offended by their vitality and beauty.

Fate however, seemed inclined to some mercy. For each village that was stricken with loss soon found itself blessed with an overflowing of crops and commerce, as if Death felt some blood money was owed.

It was not only the young and lovely who were taken though. The old King, my mother’s father, was struck down on Summer’s Eve itself— along with seven young girls from each of the surrounding villages. But the grief over these deaths was short-lived, such was the glory of the days that followed, the golden sunlight drying the tears from the cheeks of the mourners even as they fell. Indeed, it seemed hard to grieve anything beneath the sun of that long, long summer. The Summer Queen, clothed in green and yellow and scarlet and blue, wore only a black ribbon around her neck for mourning, and none falted her.

It was then that the rumors came, rumors that the visiting king was not only there to see the beauty of the valley, but of its women as well. Indeed, those coming before his entourage said that he was seeking out one who was rumored to be the Fairest of them All.

The Summer Queen, shining almost to match the blazing endless sun, was more than happy to aid him in his search. And it was undoubtedly her efforts to ensure her own success in fulfilling the terms of his quest which led her to discover that my mother’s heart--which she thought she had devoured seven years ago, at the start of her endless summer --still beat it’s red,red blood within her snow white breast.

A grand celebration was proclaimed in the king’s honor, a festival of such magnificence as had never been seen outside of the old stories, and travelers came from all the surrounding lands to take part, ply their trades, and sell their wares. Up and over the mountains they came, and several passed by the cave where my mother dwelt.

Was it any wonder that my mother, still so young, having found a measure of peace in that snowy valley which soothed the burns upon her soul, and made her long to return somewhat to the world of men and look once more upon human faces, took in good faith the laces, brought by from far by the cargo boats; the comb, carved and painted so cleverly with a myriad flower; and finally, most beautiful blood-red summer apple, grown in her father’s own orchard?

When my mother woke again-- to the face of my father, returned from afar at last to find the girl who had freed him from his curse, and had now freed her in return-- she was not so naive.

My father had brought many men with him, and the people of the valley had grown slow and complacent in their bounty. When his men came with their swords, and the frozen-beards called up their icy winds, and my mother rode down upon the capitol in a sleigh made from her own glass coffin, they were not prepared to withstand the onslaught. Soon enough all had either fallen to their knees —or fallen where they stood.

The Summer Queen danced at my mother’s wedding, in shoes crafted by my mother herself, in the art taught to her by her foster-fathers. Shoes which returned upon the Summer Queen all the heat of the sun which she had stolen by her sacrifices and bloody rites.

Then my mother took up her rightful throne, and winter came at last to the valley.

My mother and father were wed in the open courtyard, as the snow fell like diamonds all around them, and all agreed they had never seen a more beautiful sight. My mother’s foster sister, who had remained loyal to her true queen, was reunited with her, and wed to my father’s brother. Children followed both of them after, and for many years, the natural order of the seasons came and went.

It was on my seventh birthday that my mother found the mirror, tucked behind a tapestry woven with fruit and flowers, in the abandoned tower of the Summer Queen.

No one knows where the Summer Queen obtained the mirror. Some have claimed it was a wedding gift from her godfather, a fallen priest who had taken supper at the Scholomance. Others that she crafted it herself, from water and moonlight, on a witch’s sabbath. But my mother told me once that the mirror was only a shard of a greater whole, and that the Summer Queen had only happened upon it, and though her own powers were great, her vain and narrow mind only able to discover the basest powers of the mirror.

But my mother-- born of blood and snow and forest, learned in the lore of the mountain folk, the perfect inversion in shape and soul of the Summer Queen-- could feel at once what was before her. She had higher aspirations than to know of mere beauty. After all, why should she trouble herself over such trivial questions?

She was, and is, the Fairest of them All.

No, my mother asked for vision and clarity, and the mirror readily supplied, showing her the darkness that lay in the hearts of men, the twisted, choking desire she had already tasted in an apple grown of blood and summer heat, and she knew what she must do.

That night, on Summer’s Eve itself, the snows began to fall.

The winters lie heavy on our land now, as heavy as summer once did. Our borders have shrunken back to what they were before the days of the Summer Queen. The rivers she once choked with cargo boats and merry-makers now flow freely beneath the protection of their own glass coffins. The flowers that once crowned her traitorous head have not been seen in many a year. The mountains are eternally capped with snow, the frost-beards no longer trapped within their narrow valley. Our kingdom, once vibrantly flushed with the blood of those taken to feed an endless summer, is now white and pure, cleansed by the endless falling snow.

My mother saved her kingdom from a blood soaked opulence, from a land made rich and fat off the hearts of their own, and yet they still turned upon her. Called her witch, demon, and worse. In the end, as the purifying snows fell heavier and heavier, The Usurper-- covered in ash from the fires she’d set to hold the snows at bay-- besieged the capitol. With her brother at her side, with an army of thred-bare shop-keepers and merchants laid low, she came up the Great Road with as much pride and assurance as if the crown sat already upon her head.

My aunt, foster-sister of my mother, and others who remained loyal, who knew their true queen for the power that she was, fought back. Indeed, my aunt and the wolves that answered to her slew The Usurper’s brother upon the very threshold. But the faithful were soon overwhelmed. The few who survived were driven into the woods, seeking the shelter that had been granted to my mother. The Usurper had the trees set ablaze, calling out that the dark powers of the forest would not be allowed to aid the followers of a witch. Her army came right up to the palace gates. And my father, my dear, foolish, fearful, traitorous father, who’s heart had been turned by The Usurper’s treacherous lies--himself unbarred the door for her.

My mother did not flee, whatever they say. She who had vowed to never be driven by anyone again, she who had bent the very elements to her will. She did not flee before The Usurper’s feeble army of ragged townsfolk and treacherous palace guards,even as they tore up her portraits, burned her books, and smashed her mirror into a thousand pieces.

No,they were not granted that victory. When she fell, she fell of her own accord, and her white gown sparkled like snow-flakes in the sun as she dived, down from the window at which her mother had once sat sewing, down, down into the blazing, waiting embrace of the woods that had heard her mother’s prayer.

When the fires at last burned themselves out, they found my mother’s body, ash covered, but untouched by the flames, as if even they could not bear to besmirch her beauty. She was placed once more in the glass coffin that bore her name, and it sat in state for three days in the royal chapel. She was, after all, a king’s daughter, and wife of another. On the third day, it was gone. Some claim she was properly buried, far beneath the ground, with a hawthorn branch in her heart. Others say that the rebels took the coffin, and burned it till the glass was melted down into a lump as black as her hair had been. The faithful say that the frost-beards came in the dark of the night, and reclaimed their daughter, carrying the coffin up once more to the high valley where my father once found her, to await the day when she will awaken again.

If she has not so already.

For though my mother’s crown sits on The Usurper’s head, and her daughters are to be sent to the far corners of the earth, in hopes the heat of the sun and the scent of the flowers will drive her from their hearts, the winter still lays heavy upon the land, and the wind has not ceased to blow since the day that she fell.

Father is sending us away tomorrow, and I do not think he shall be long in following. So many have left already. He longs for the shores of his youth, where the spring and summer follows after the winter. My uncle, his brother, has already returned there, with many of his children. The common folk are leaving as regularly as they can clear the mountain passes, which is not easy in these times. The birds and gentler animals left years ago. Soon, it will be only the wolves that prowl the dark woods, edging closer and closer into the towns as more and more people abandon my mother’s frozen kingdom. They say that the spectre of my aunt can be seen running with the wolves sometimes, when the moon is obscured by clouds, red cloak trailing behind her like blood on the snow.

They can send me away, but I shall find my way back. A thousand’s flowers scents could not make me forget the smell of the pines, a thousand bird’s songs could not drown out the howl of the wind. The bluest of skies cannot burn away the purest of snows. Not all the mirror’s pieces were ground to powder. I managed to save one, one single shard reclaimed in the chaos that shattered my childhood. I have kept it close, reworked and polished it, set it into a clasp on a chain that rests even now against my heart, hidden beneath my dress so that The Usurper cannot see. Already I have learned much, not as much as my mother, I do not claim that, but enough

And when the time is right, I know it shall lead me home. Past the guards that will be placed at the door, past the gates that will be barred, over the rivers and hills and far away, back to my mother’s mountain. And there I know I shall find her again, hair as black as night, lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow; riding in her sleigh of glass thru the eternal winter air to meet me.

#my writing #snow white #snow white retelling #got inspired by a few different short stories #Tanith Lee's Red as Blood #Neil Gaiman's Snow Glass Apples #and Theodora Goss' England Under the White Witch #plus just my own love of faitytales and finding ways to mash them together #also wanted to do a dark Snow White story where she doesn't just start out as an evil vampiry child #but becomes corrupted by her fear and trauma #snow white and the seven dwarfs #snow white and rose red #little red riding hood #hansel and gretel #(the usurper is meant to be gretel as in some varients she grows up to marry a king #and who better to kill a witch?)#honestly would love to come back and explore some of the other characters in this story like her and red riding hood)#the snow queen #(really i think i just wanted to tie all the snow white/snow stories together x)#short stories #short story #walter crane #for the banner art #dwarves #witches #vampires #kinda with the witch queen

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tricogarfield · 2 months ago

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Rhun/Zahnfee Headcanon post part 2!

I linked the first Headcanon post in case you wanna check that out!:D Now, in the previous one I explained my general thoughts and how I think the Dark/White thing works! Here, I'll list off some Headcanons regarding this post, pluuus some extra headcanons!

I think Oskar would occasionally visit Rhun, who is chained to these stone pillars. There are a few reasons for that! 1. He likely has a deep fascination for Rhun, if what he said upon meeting xies in canon can be believed. Rhun is the guardian that inspired him to actually learn alchemy, so I think Rhun is the one he "looks up to", aside from Eos obviously. 2. There are a some things that he could find out through Rhun, which could help in the long run. Sure, in the first place Eos will tell them everything they need to know, but it couldn't hurt to try and get some newer information from a guardian. 3. He just feels so smug to have tricked one of the most powerful beings on earth and wants to enjoy it. While he would try to get to know more about the guardians and what exactly it is they have been doing for so many years, his main goal is to just taunt Rhun and rub the fact that xier was tricked by a "mere mortal" in. He wouldn't visit xies regurarily tho. Perhaps he'll visit Rhun 2 days in a row, just to leave xies completely by xierself for 2 weeks, visit again and dip for a month again. Irregular visits, all with different lengths. That would all happen to throw Rhun off as much as possible! Leave xies alone with nothing but xies contradicting thoughts and the pain the chains bring, as we saw in the Spin-Off. It would also make it so that Rhun would actually start looking forward to Oskar's visits, making xies more likely to actually answer to his questions. Now, I dont exactly have a lot of scenarios or possible convo's in my head, but I'm sure, depending on how long Rhun was actually chained there and when exactly Oskar died, there's a lot of stuff you could write for that! Perhaps I will try to bring all this down in a one shot! If not, anyone reading this is welcome to! Long as you give credit ofc :D Now, other headcanons! There is a lot of speculation regarding wether or not Rhun actually has a daughter now and who she is, if maybe Julia is xies daughter and what exactly happened to her, etc., etc. Well, here is what I like to believe! Julia is Rhun's daughter that xier adopted when she was a new-born, however, lost her when she was 4. I imagine that Rhun would perhaps one day hear screaming in the area near the hotel and would check that out, just to find little Julia in a basket with just a thin blanket around her and a frog stuffed animal. And, as heartless as Rhun may seem to be, xier really couldn't just leave a new-born out in the woods, could xier? And just like that, xier took the basket back to the hotel and got little Julia fed and some warmer clothes. After asking Minty for advice on what the hell xier should do with the baby now, she suggested to take her with xies on one of xies nightly trips to collect teeth and leave her at an orphanage. However, xier did not like the sound of that idea, given xies past in the monestary and was afraid that, by doing so, xier would be giving an innocent baby a childhood as bas as xies. Of course the times changed and the odds of her living a good life in an orphanage were much bigger than they were when Rhun was still a child, but xier didn't want to risk it. And like that, Rhun gave her the name Eirlys (a welsh name meaning snowdrop. The reason is because the name Rhun is also of Welsh origin, so I figured it'd only make sense) to commemorate finding her during winter on a little snow hill and started to raise her. Xier was...well, overwhelmed with doing xies job AND taking care of a newborn, but luckily had the help of Minty and Hairy (who xier didn't exactly trust with Eirlys...) to manage.

The first 4 years passed and Rhun has grown extremely fond of xies daughter, however, dreading the day that she as a mortal will unfortunately die. So xier was looking for any way possible to eventually, when she became a grown-adult, turn her immortal as well. And maybe even teach her xies ways and turn her into a Toothfairy.

Unfortunately, when Rhun was busy doing xies job and left the hotel unattended aside from Minty and Hairy, Eirlys snuck out and got lost in the woods surrounding it. In the woods, she met a few kids her age and got invited to play hide and seeks with them. However, while she was looking for a hiding spot, she fell into a well and obviously, couldn't get out anymore.

The new friends she made while playing also didn't find her, as they didn't think of checking the well and were busy looking for her until eventually deciding to go get one of their parents for help. At the same time that was happening, the stranger (Hope y'all know who I mean ;D) found her and luckily, helped her out. The thing is, when Eirlys fell into the well, she hit her head a bit too hard and as a result, barely had any memories from before that. After talking with the stranger a bit, who also guided her more to the edge of the forest, she was eventually found by one of the parents of the kids she was playing with.

The stranger mysteriously disappeared without telling her their name. And, since she did not have any recollection of what happened before she fell into the well, there wasn't any place she could be brought back to. So instead, she was then put into an orphanage but soon got adopted by her canon parents!:D

The thing is, the stranger removed any and all traces of magic that she had on her that she could have gotten from her stay at the hotel. And also kind of made her "invisible" to the guardians, so that finding her, would be near impossible. It would wear off the older so got, but even as an adult, it's difficult for the guardians to fully register she's there.

And just like that, Rhun lost xies daughter. When xier came back that night to find Minty and Hairy both panicking about where she is, xier was devastated AND outraged. Instead of wasting much time being angry at them tho, xier immediately went looking for her. Almost every waking moment of xies is spent looking for Eirlys, aside from doing xies regular job and using the teeth to renew the barrier keeping Eos on the moon and the hotel save.

This is very sad indeed D: not to worry though, I do have a little AU in my head on what would have happened if Eirlys/Julia didn't sneak out that day and would have fully grown up with Rhun :DD I'll make a little post about that one day too! For today tho, that was enough headcanons in one post xDD Or maybe I'll write some more headcanons down later, who knows! Anyway, see y'all!:D

#julien bam #songs aus der bohne #zahnfee #mann im mond #julia beautx #julia #headcanons #oskar #minty #hairy

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dairedara · 2 years ago

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Ode to Brighid

"O Brighid, fair daughter of the Good God,

Smith of shining silver and silvered songs,

The badgers, the snowdrops, they breach the snow:

Winter's crystal mantle, to welcome you,

Goddess! Patron of poets and plowmen alike

Take my prayer, let it be fuel for the flame."

[original composition]

#celtpol #brighid #brig #brigit #brigid #imbolc #saint brigid #prayer #pagan prayer #pagan poetry #tuatha de danann #from the writing desk

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valsnonsense · 8 months ago

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Lady Rosebud Holloway

"Hm-hm-hm... Seems like you've backed yourself into a corner, haven't you, darling?"

Parents: Creek Holloway and Floyd Heath

Siblings: Snowdrop (Younger Sibling)

Age: 25

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Lesbian

Genre: Folk/Pop

Voice Claim: Ashley Serena

The eldest of Creek and Floyd, and one of the most eerie characters of the next generation. Sly, cunning, with a mischievous streak, Rosebud is not a Troll you wanna get on the bad side of.

Rosebud works as a bounty hunter on behalf of Trollstopia, hunting down criminals who disturb the peace. Her work in keeping Trolls safe earned her the title of Lady, which she strives to maintain.

Rosebud is fiercely protective of her family, especially her father, Creek. Rosebud is aware of Creek's past, and hates it when Trolls refuse to see past it. Some harsher Trolls call her the "Traitor's Child", which she tries to pretend it doesn't bother her. It's why she pushes for justice and the protection of others so much.

Despite her eerie persona, Rosebud is kind once you get to know her. She enjoys singing with her father Floyd, spending quiet afternoons with Snowdrop, and sparring with Creek.

Music wise, Rosebud loves Folk music. She loves how it can sound cheerful one moment, and haunting the next. She uses her naturally spooky sounding voice to lure in targets.

Rosebud currently resides in Trollstopia alongside her family.

Fun Facts!

- Rosebud is the best fighter of her family (extended fam included). She's bested Branch in fights (to the infinite pride of her father)

- Rosebud became a bounty hunter because of the scar she got on her neck. A criminal ran loose in the streets of Trollstopia, hurting dozens and even killing one. Rosebud took up being a hunter to keep anything like that from happening again. Girl's got a strong sense of justice.

- Daddy's girl through and through. She hates how some people look at her father like he's nothing but dirt. She's gotten into one or two fights with other Trolls about it.

- Has a huge crush on Honeysuckle, daughter of Delta Dawn. Wants to make a move, but she knows Honeysuckle likes someone else (it's actually her, she doesn't know that tho)

- Her first word was cunt. Floyd is forever mad at Creek about that

And here's the first of my two Fleek babies, Rosebud! Okay, without a doubt, Rosebud is my favorite OC. I was gonna have to pick a favorite child at some point.

It goes without saying that any child of Creek is gonna face some scrutiny. I mean, when your dad throws his entire civilization away for his own life, that's gonna follow you forever. I'll definitely be diving more into her

Also Rosebud has definitely killed someone before. What? You cant be a bounty hunter and NOT kill at least one lunatic!

Voice Example: My Jolly Sailor Bold (Ashley Serena)

#dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls fleek #fleek #trolls oc #trolls rosebud #myart #traditional art #tw death #tw murder #fucked up child #i mean not REALLY but shes pretty up there #plz just leave her dad alone hdbdhdb #creek is moved that shed go so far for him but is also worried that people will start treating her like they do him if she continues #i gotta whole mini arc planned about that~#Spotify #trolls the depths au

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onegianthotmess · 4 months ago

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I imagine that Miranda loves flowers to the point of extensively researching on flora and horticulture and any kind of plant that seems to interest her.

If she finds one with skincare benefits, she shows Vil and they go on a long hyperfixation of that one plant and see if it’s worth trying.

If it’s poisonous, she researches it extensively before showing it all to Vil and explaining how they could be used in potions. Pretty much she just infodumps on Vil about poisonous plants while they have a sleepover.

Miranda probably eventually named her and Vil’s first daughter after her favorite flower, snowdrops. Vil probably has mixed feelings at first because of the use of “snow” in the name, but he does eventually love the name when their first daughter is born.

All of their children end up being named after plants.

#twst #twst headcanons #twst oc #canon x oc #twisted wonderland #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #miranda shards

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 months ago

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Idk if you still do Ichi the Killer requests but 😭 if you do movie Kakihara x injured reader? Ichi gets to reader and injures them if that makes sense? I like angst and I love your writing ! Keep up the amazing work!

I've gotchu sis <3

The city streets were dimly lit, the neon signs casting a sickly glow over the alleys. It was a night like any other in the depraved city where the law was Yakuza, where shadows hid unspeakable deeds. Kakihara Masao, the S&M freak of the Anjo gang, had been out dealing with a rival gang, as per usual. Few things could get a kick out of him, and finding new ways to torture traitors to death was one of them.

As he returned to his new home - The traditional villa which belonged to his wife, the daughter of their ally gang's boss, he felt a nagging unease. Something was off, but he couldn't tell why.

Ever since he left the house that day, with a departing kiss as was the daily routine, he had a gnawing feeling eating away at his brain, sinking his heart with worry.

He cared little what happened to him, or to anyone else - The only thing that mattered in his life anymore was to keep his beloved angel happy - And very much alive. She was a fantastic businesswoman, and the gang's designated medic, owning a whole chains of successful private hospitals - Which only put a huge target on her head. How could she sleep at night so peacefully Kakihara could never understand.

Was it her unshakeable trust in him, the husband her father wanted so desperately to tie to her? Her childhood crush, her teenage craze, her adult soulmate? Or was it the numerous bodyguards patrolling the house perimeter in a 200m radius in all directions at any given moment?

This girl was more guarded than the Emperor or the president, and yet...

Pushing the door open, he was greeted by an eerie silence, not by his wife's dolcetto voice, her warm embrace and sweet kiss. His heart pounded in his chest as he called out for his angel, but there was no response. The house was dark, and a sense of dread washed over him. He flicked on the lights and froze. The scene before him was a nightmare he's had many times before. The result of his failure.

Y/N lay on the floor, blood pooling around her. Her body was covered in slashes, the unmistakable work of that psychopath bastard, Ichi. Tears of pain stained her porcelain cheeks and her face was twisted in a petrified expression. Even unconscious, she was terrified and in pain.

Y/N hated pain. She was as vanilla as could be; Masao could never understand her; How she'd cry from the littlest amount of pain, when his euphoria came from a place of excruciating agony. A princess, she was an angel, of course she'd be delicate like a fragile little snowdrop, whilst he's a demon, a vulgar devil, corrupting and tainting the Heavens around her.

Kakihara's mind raced as he rushed to her side, dropping to his knees. She was still alive, but barely. Her breathing was shallow, and her eyes fluttered open when she felt his presence.

"Masa..." she whispered, her voice weak and trembling. "Ichi is looking for you."

He gently cradled her in his arms, his usually apathetic scarred visage contorted with guilt and rage. "Stay with me, angel. I’ve gotchu. Just hold on."

Kakihara wasted no time, carefully lifting her in his arms, bridal style just like he loved - Just like on their wedding - Yet now, she looked like a broken doll; His heart was breaking at the sight of her injuries. Once outside of the house, he yelled at the useless bodyguards who allowed this mess to happen - None of them saw or even heard anything. That bastard was too good.

Ironically, they drove to her own hospital which was nearby, though the road felt eternal and every second that ticked by was filled with the fear that he might lose her.

The doctors quickly took her in for emergency surgery, and Kakihara was staring after her as she was swiftly rolled on the bed, to the sterilised room; His mind was a storm of fury and worry. He couldn't stay there, not while Ichi was still out there. His blood boiled with wrath, a primal need for vengeance driving him.

"Princess L/N is in critical condition, but she will make a full recovery." the head doctor informed Kakihara. "She will need to take it easy and rest at home - No effort whatsoever - And for a while, some assistance." the old man continued; He looked left and right, then spoke in a hushed tone. "Was it that son of a bitch, Ichi?" Masao grunted affirmatively.

"Not for long." he sneered under his breath. "I'll be back." his voice was cold and steely.

With that, he left on his hunt to rip that fuckass apart, his mind singularly focused on one thing: finding Ichi and making him pay for every little scratch on her skin, for every second of agony, and for every nightmare she'll have from then on.

He reached out to his contacts, scoured the streets, and left no stone unturned. The hunt was relentless, driven by his love and desire to protect the only sun ray in his bleak, dark world, the burning hatred for the man who had hurt her. No living being was allowed to approach her with any mal intent, let alone actually commit such a vicious act against an angel. That fucker will rot.

He hadn't slept, hadn't eaten, hadn't drunk until he found him, but finally after so long, in the dead of night, Kakihara cornered Ichi in a dilapidated warehouse. The killer stood there, his face twisted in a sickening grin, clearly enjoying the chaos he had caused - Yet at the same time, his visage was twisted in a troubled look; This bitch was fucked in the head, he was out of his mind. His brain wasn't wired properly, even by Masao's standards.

Kakihara wasted no time. "You little fuckass!" he roared, his voice echoing through the empty space. "You dared to touch her! My angel! You took the one reason I had to stay alive!"

Ichi barely had time to react before Kakihara launched himself at him. The fight was brutal, both men driven by their own wicked desires and madness. Masao's rage gave him an edge. He didn't hold back, inflicting as much pain as he could, relishing in every scream that tore from Ichi's throat. That bastard couldn't even raise that sickle leg of his to slice him off - What a pussy ass cunt. He dared mess with his angel, without thinking of the hell he will receive back.

Ichi was easily subdued, bloodied and broken. Kakihara stood over him, his eyes wild with fury. "Look into my eyes and despair, you fucking freak." he snarled, before delivering the final blow. The life drained from Ichi's eyes, and Kakihara felt a grim satisfaction wash over him. "I love overkill."

He stood there, watching all the blood drain from his pathetic body, kicking it every once in a whole, hoping to vent out his remaining rage before he appeared before his sweet girl. There was only one place he needed to be, and that was by his angel's side.

Covered in blood, he returned to the hospital - Thankfully, one of her bodyguards had a spare shit for him to change in; He couldn't possibly embrace an angel while he was painted red with her assailant's filthy blood.

The doctors informed him that Y/N was awake and stable, but still exhausted. He entered her room quietly, his heart aching at the sight of her frail, broken form, leaning down on that white bed, wrapped in white sheets. White looked good at her, but colours were her favourite. The hospital room was too lame for her.

"Y/N." he whispered, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed, taking her hands in his and kissing her fingers. "Fucker's dead, and my arms are all yours to sleep in, angel." he said, laying down and gathering her carefully in his embrace. "No one's ever gonna dare mess around with my girl." he kissed the top of her head.

She opened her eyes, tears welling up as she looked at him. "Masa..." her eyes were gleaming with pure love and admiration. "You're my guardian hero."

He gently cradled her in his arms, nestling her like a little kitten in his clothes, holding her close and whispering soothing words. "I'm here, angel. I'm always here. I won't let anything happen to you ever again. I promise."

Kakihara felt a sense of peace; He had avenged his wife, rid the world of a useless scum, and now, all that mattered was Y/N's recovery. He would stay by her side, protect her, and ensure that no harm ever came to her again. In that moment, as he held her, he knew that no matter the darkness of their world, he will remain alive, to protect her from the evil surrounding her eden.

#kakihara #kakihara x reader #kakihara imagine #kakihara masao #kakihara masao x reader #kakihara masao imagine #ichi the killer #ichi the killer imagine #ichi the killer x reader

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