#(both had been bred and groomed to be the perfect daughters for the queen of spiders and the matrons that raised them)

[sageofthestrange]

✿ saurons_eye_emoji.png

bold for things i could definitely see or want, italics for things i could see or am unsure of and striked out for things i don’t want or cannot see.

FRIENDSHIP.     childhood friends  /  work buddies or coworkers  /  family friends  /  friends with benefits  /  smoking buddies  /  adventure buddies  /  fake friends  /  recently friends  /  party buddies  /  friendship of need  /  dying friendship  /  circumstantial friendship  /  partners in crime  /  old friendship  /[your muse] is the good influence  /[your muse] is the bad influence  /[my muse] is the good influence  /[my muse] is the bad influence  /  opposites attract  /  ride or die  /  frenemies  /  roommates or flatmates  /  penpals  /  exes to friends  /  enemies to friends  /  other

ROMANCE.     childhood sweethearts  /[your muse is mines] childhood crush  /[my muse is yours] childhood crush  /  exes  /  exes to lovers  /  forbidden lovers  /  highschool sweethearts  /  secret relationship  /  opposites attract  /  long distance  /  unrequited [from your muses side]/  unrequited [from my muses side]/  unrequited [from both sides]/  skinny love  /  friends to lovers  /  enemies to lovers  /  spurious relationship  /  power couple  /  newly entered  /  soulmates [ metaphorical ]/  soulmates  [ literal ]/  awkward  /  turning toxic  /  toxic love  /  cheating [on your muse]/  cheating [with your muse]/  other

FAMILIAL.     siblings [half]/  siblings [step]/[my muse] is an older sibling figure to your younger sibling figure  /[my muse] is a younger sibling figure to your older sibling figure muse  /[my muse] is a parental figure to yours  /[my muse] is a child figure to your muse  /  guardian figure  /  legal guardian  /  adoptive child  /  foster child  /[your muse] is taken under mines wing  /[my muse] is taken under yours wing  /  other [kin-sisters/blood of the covenant vibes]

ANTAGONISTIC.     dangerous to each other  /  dangerous to others  /  unpredictable  /  rivals  /  petty  /  developing into sexual or romantic tension  /  based off family matters  /  based of off circumstance  /  based off professional matters  /  based off misunderstanding or lies  /  conflict of ideology  /  betrayal  /  hero - villain dynamic  /  enemies  /  fight club  /  friends turned enemies  /  lovers turned enemies  /  exes turned enemies  /  other 

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Precious Inexperience

A/N: Welp. Should I be posting this on Easter? Probably not. This was written under the influence of the lack of sleep and the over-abundance of wine. This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​’s “What’s Old is New Again" Challenge. I used the prompt #14,  “I do not know how to kiss or I would kiss you. Where do the noses go?” - Ingrid Bergman 

Pairing: King!Robb Stark x F!Reader

Rating: M for DARK THEMES including dub-con, death, death of children, Robb being a dick, a bit of smut, and canon-typical sexism

Warnings: Again, dub-con/dubious consent, talk of pregnancy, men being terrible-PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: The King in the North was now King of the Seven Kingdoms. Peace reigned. But Kings need heirs.

The King in the North they called him. King in the North even as he sat on the Iron Throne. Robb Stark was King of the Seven Kingdoms—won with bloody battles and dead wives. Alliances were sewn with marriages and Robb had easily taken a wife when it meant more men for his armies, more food to feed them, a stronger claim to the throne that had taken the head of his father all those years ago.  A Frey girl. She’d been pretty. Pretty for Frey with small hips and a nice smile. She died in childbed—their son along with her.  Then there was Margaery Tyrell. The beauty of the Reach. With the Reach under his command, Robb was unstoppable. Food was plentiful even as Winter came and went and the remaining forces loyal to the Crown starved and died. 

Yes, she made a beautiful queen for a year. When her face turned purple and blood poured from her eyes, everyone cried “poison! Poison!” and pointed fingers at the Greyjoys, still refusing to bend the knee to their new king. No one ever truly knew who had murdered The Gracious Queen Margaery, but the heads of hundreds of Greyjoy bannermen decorated the pikes outside the Red Keep until the last Greyjoy, Yara, finally accepted his rule.

The Realm had peace, it seemed. The Dragon Queen had stayed in Essos with her army and her dragons and the Wildlings to the North had been eliminated under the command of his bastard brother, Jon Snow.

Peace, they said.

But, Kings need heirs.

The Westerlands submitted their prettiest maids from the best houses. The Stormlands, too. The Vale followed, along with the Riverlands, and the North. And Dorne, who had skillfully played both sides of the board during the war with the lions, had been slow to send a proposal.

The Martells were skittish, for good reason, to marry into another royal family. But that did not mean they did not want a Dornish woman to marry their new king. Robb had been kind to Dorne; knew their worth and history. He met with Prince Doran in the Water Gardens, personally, to broker an alliance and laughed with Ellaria Sand and Prince Oberyn at their feasts. The Northern King knew the power Dorne held. It had been no secret that Robb had sought Dorne’s council on many things.

But it came as a surprise to Y/N when Prince Doran sent for her and her father to come to the Water Gardens and meet with him. Her house was small and held modest power, nestled on the westernmost coast of Dorne, just south of House Dayne of Starfall. It was mostly a small naval fleet port and trading post with merchants from the Reach and Westerlands. As the fifth child of her family, she was often over-looked in many regards as her elder sister was groomed to one day take her place as head of the family. It was no bother to her, mostly. She was able to read and spend her time racing horses. Her Northern-bred mother was aghast when she had first learned of a few Dornish customs, but had softened immensely when she learned her firstborn, her daughter, had not made her a terrible wife. She’d produced an heir, after all. But the one frivolity she could not and would not condone was any sort of romantic interludes. She did not care that the rest of Dornish nobility embraced paramours and bastard children. 

Y/N and her seven siblings were raised with Northern sensibilities in that regard. No men were left near her unsupervised. She was given little education on the art of romance other than the books she had to smuggle away from her mother’s prying eyes and, because she cared little for most people, it did not bother her in the slightest.

Marriage was not something she thought about often. Her house was secure with her sister and her marriage to Prince Doran’s son, Trystane. Her sister was pregnant with her second child already, much to the happiness of her family and the Martells. Her elder brothers were prosperous knights and her younger siblings were contemplating becoming maesters or a septa. The family coffers were plentiful. She needn’t marry for advantage in any regard.

Or so she had been led to believe.

When Prince Doran reached for her hand with a soft smile, she gave it to him readily, even as his heir, Princess Arianne could not offer a comforting expression. “The King has asked for a bride. You shall be our envoy.”

There was no argument. No brokering. No tears.

It was a strange sort of fog that clouded her mind as her father thanked Prince Doran and Princess Arianne for “the honor” and then tried to ready her for the trip to King’s Landing and the long days spent in the wheelhouse on the journey north. She hardly remembered any of it. The ladies maids were frantic about her, as they helped her dress in a pretty golden gown and pressed sweet-smelling perfume to her neck and wrists. All of it felt like it was happening to someone else. Not to her. Things like this didn’t happen to her. She would read and race horses and get scolded by her mother for smelling of hay or stealing berries from the kitchens.

It was a cattle show, if she had to give it a name. The potential brides were scattered about the throne room, their fathers at their sides, all primped and ready for inspection.

“Stand up straight, girl,” her father chided, a soft tone betraying his love for his second daughter.

“Yes, father,” Y/N murmured in return and did as he bid. “But, truly, you cannot believe he will even look at me.” She had always thought herself plain. It was no bother, really. Her sister was the heir and beauty and it took all the pressure of being a lady away. Her sister was kind to her, too. Perfect in every way. If she were standing here, Y/N was sure she would have been proposed to by now. And her younger sister was so enthralled with religion she hardly spoke of anything else.

“Prince Doran knows the King very well. He chose you for a reason.”

“Fine. But when we get sent home, I-”

“Your Grace.” Her father bowed and she quickly followed with a curtsey, grimacing at not noticing when the young King had stepped in their direction. “May I present to you my daughter, Lady Y/N.”

The King was handsome, obviously. His russet hair curled over the tops of his ears and even with the growing beard, he still had a young man’s roguish charm. Her heart suddenly constricted as he held out a hand toward her and her fingers shook as she placed her hand in his. “A pleasure to meet you, my lady.” His words were murmured, beard scratching against her fingers. 

“L-likewise, Your Grace.”

Robb stood straight with a smirk and there was a gleam in his eye that made her stomach twist. He nodded to her father and walked away to greet the next lady as she deflated, breath rushing.

“Well, I hope are happy, Father. I did my part on behalf of Dorne.” She was ready to go home. Now. The look the King gave her left her unsettled. There was a darkness behind his pretty eyes, one she had only seen when faced with feral animals that would howl in the night outside her family’s castle walls.

But then some man in a grey and black surcoat, embroidered with a snarling direwolf, stepped to her father’s side and whispered in his ear before his unfamiliar eyes flickered to her. The exchange lasted barely a few seconds and soon the man was walking away, following his king through the shadows.

“What is it?”

Her father frowned and dropped his voice to a low whisper she had to strain to hear even as he bent to her level. “You’ve been requested to meet His Grace in the gardens tonight.”

“Tonight?” She parroted. “Will you be there?”

“No. This is to see if you would be compatible.” Even as the words left his mouth, she knew he did not understand them.

“Must I go?”

Her father nodded. Sealing her fate.

                                                           **

The gardens were quiet except for the chirping of an incessant bird hidden somewhere in the greenery. The only other person she had seen while following the map she’d been handed just after dinner, was a guard at the entrance who looked at her with hard eyes from beneath his helmet before letting her venture in to the twisting, turning paths of green.

She squinted at the crudely drawn map in the dim moonlight and hoped she had found the right place. There had been a statue, a few turns ago, of the King’s sister, Sansa, holding the head of Cersei Lannister on a platter. Before that, a statue of the slain Stark boys, Rickon and Bran, astride their direwolves—a dead lion was crumpled under their paws. Arya had to be somewhere, too. Y/N was sure of it. She wondered what her statue depicted her doing—Arya was known throughout the Realm for her vicious nature and love for her family. She had set sail to the West not long ago with her new husband, Lord Gendry Baratheon.

She sat down on the stone bench and folded the map, putting it away before chewing at the side of her thumb. Whether it was boredom or trepidation, she wasn’t sure. The entire situation seemed…off kilter. There was something bubbling beneath the surface she didn’t understand.

“My Lady.”

She quickly stood and curtseyed as the king walked around the corner and into the small clearing. “Your Grace.”

He reached for her hand and pressed another kiss to her knuckles. “I’ve been told you are the fifth of eight children.”

She frowned at the strange start of the conversation but did nothing to deter it. “Yes, Your Grace. Two sisters and five brothers.”

Robb hummed and nodded, eyes raking down her form. “And your sister? She’s pregnant with her second child. After only two years of marriage.”

She nodded. “Yes. They are hoping for another boy.”

Robb’s eyes closed and another smile touched his lips, this one much more relaxed, as he settled on the bench behind him. “Good. That’s good.” She moved to sit beside him when he pressed a hand against her stomach and pushed her back. Her feet stumbled and he caught her at the waist, pressing his fingers into her skin with a grip that stung. “No. I want to look at you.”

Standing tall, she tried to even out her breath as she felt his eyes start to roam. His hands moved to her hips and his thumbs dug into bottom of her stomach, pulling a gasp from her lips. “Y-your Grace?”

“These…” He squeezed her hips. “These could do nicely.”

She looked down at her hips he seemed to be so attentive to, wondering what he could possibly mean. “Princess Arianne said I had my mother’s hips, perfect for children.” The compliment had always been a strange one, but the Princess assured her it was good.

Robb dragged her close, feet once again tangling and almost careening her forward as the young king kept her mostly steady. “Your father and Prince Doran have assured me that you are pure. I will ask you this only once. If you lie, I will know and the consequences will be severe. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes, Your Grace.” Her heart was hammering a painful beat against her ribs as he looked up at her. “I understand.”

“Have you ever been with another man?” His eyes pinned her, cold and knowing.

“No. I have never even…” her words trailed off as heat washed down her spine.

“Finish what you were saying.” Another squeeze to her hips.

“I have never been kissed, Your Grace, let alone laid with a man. I am afraid my inexperience will only disappoint you.”

Robb’s answering smile reminded her of his family’s sigil; sharp, snarling teeth. As he stood, his hands slid up her sides, thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts, and dragged her close. “You are mistaken, my lady. You have made me very happy.” And he kissed her then, stealing her breath as he pried her lips apart and shoved his tongue into her mouth. Shaking hands found purchase in his dark-colored tunic as she tried to keep up with his mouth that seemed determined to devour her whole.

                                                             **

The examination by the maester had left her shaking. “She is untouched, Your Grace,” the maester said to Robb as he waited outside her chambers. “As promised.”

The door hadn’t even closed and he was basically shouting her purity to the halls of the Keep. She curled into a ball on her featherbed and drew a pillow to her chest as if that would help take away the embarrassment and the discomfort from the Maester’s previously prodding instruments and fingers. She barely heard them speaking of fertility, her mother’s, her sister’s. Hers. Her bed dipped with the weight of someone sitting but she didn’t turn to see who it was, expecting her father.

“Could I have some tea, please, papa?” The old nickname for her father slipped out. “I feel like…I feel like my body doesn’t belong to me anymore.”

“It doesn’t.”

She sat straight at the sound of the king’s voice, fright grasping at her heart. “Your Grace, I-I-I-”

Robb suddenly loomed over her, legs bracketing her thighs and pressing her against her pillows. His hand slithered its way under her chemise to press against her bare stomach and she felt her heart try to lodge itself up in her throat. The scent of him, of leather and spice and ale, flooded her senses as he leaned closer to breathe his words against her mouth. “This belongs to me. All of it. All of you. I will make you round with my children as many times as your body can take if it pleases me.”

“Y-your Grace-” Her scared eyes looked over his shoulder to see the door to her chambers had been shut, sealing her away from the world.

“You will give me an heir that is mine without question and then you will give me more. More children to fill these cursed halls with something other than the whispers of politics and subterfuge.” He sat back on his heels watched her heaving chest with a smile that looked too soft for him now. “You have made me a very happy man, Y/N.”

Her name sounded strange on his tongue.

And she hated how much she liked it.

                                                           **

The ceremony had been ornate and befitting of the young king and his new queen. She traded her father’s colors for black and grey and silver and felt the snarling direwolf pressing against her back with the new bridal cloak even as his pretty lips pressed against hers and the crowd cheered.

She was Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

His third queen.

The festivities came and went and soon she was alone with him in his chambers and he hardly kissed her again before her dress was discarded and her chemise torn to near shreds. And it hurt. Every slap of his hips as he rutted against her brought her closer to some strange precipice she couldn’t name, cresting between pleasure and pain. Coiling tighter and tighter in her stomach like a terrible snake.

“You’ll give me a boy,” he said, breath hot against her ear as he dragged her ever closer. “You’ll give me children.”

“I will,” she whimpered in return, fingers trying to find a grip on his slick back. A scream nearly wrenched its way from her throat as he sunk his teeth into her shoulder. “I will!”

His thrusts turned animalistic and her head nearly hit the carved headboard as he pushed her further and further up the overstuffed featherbed and then, with a final thrust, he sunk his deepest yet into her and stayed there as warmth shot through her.

And her coil snapped, legs shaking and eyes rolling with convulsions she couldn’t stop.

He stayed inside her for a while, prick softening. And it was the gentlest he’d been with her since the ceremony, letting his hands roam her torso, sponging kisses to her face and breasts, murmuring how she’d give him an heir.

“I will,” she said again, words not her own, body still reeling with aftershocks. “I will.”

Robb held her face in his hands and kissed her slowly, almost repentantly. “You will. Or you will see The Stranger just as Roslin and Margaery did. Do you understand?”

It was only after she had ‘accepted’ his proposal had she learned that Roslin had birthed a boy that could never have been Robb’s son, born too early to have been conceived by him, and Margaery had been barren. She nodded and gently pushed the hair away from his eyes, now uncaring that they held very little warmth when they looked at her. Maybe they would when she gave him a son. Maybe he could love her then.

When he finally pulled out of her, he canted her hips up and shoved a pillow beneath them to keep her aloft. “Stay like that until morning.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

A/N: Well, there you go. Please tell me what you think. 

Part two

[littlemisssquiggles]

Ok so. Oscar as Nene (got drag to supernatural stuff like Os got drag to become a huntsman) Ruby as Hanako (playful, deeper than you think, family issue🤣😂) Jaune as Kou Pyrrha as Mitsuba GO BRAINSTORM NOW YA KNOW THE STORY OF HANAKO KUN🤣😂❤️❤️❤️

Hehehe,indeed I do know the story of Hanako-kun,Ly. Especially now that I’m all caught up with both the anime and the mangaseries. Although I will say this though, theanime adaptation of the Mitsuba chapter was one hundred times moreheartbreaking to see play out in animated form. I mean it was alreadysaddening to read about in the manga when I first started but to see it now infull living colour…my heart. Dem feelsman!

Andto imaging Pyrhha Nikkos being Jaune’sMitsuba in a RWBY-inspired Hanako universe is so tragically fitting thatit’s bloody perfect. Y’know it was actually @mojo72400 who first suggested thepotential of a Rosegarden AU based on Hanako-kun. However at the time, I ridiculouslythought that Toilet-Bound Hanako-kunwas about a anime girl who had to survive the social ladder of highschool witha terrible condition that forced to suffer from infrequent trips to the toilet.That’s what the title made me think the story was about. I know that soundssilly in hindsight but can you blame with a title like that? Now imagine howpleasantly surprised I was to realize that TBH was definitely better than I canever imagined.

Anyways,that being said, now that I’ve familiarized myself with the Hanako-universe(and have officially joined its fandom community---Whaddup my toilet-bounddudes!) you can bet your bum that I’m definitely game for a Barn- Bound Ruby Rose RWBY Rosegarden AU and I second the idea of Oscar Pine being the Nene ofthis universe.

Oh!But instead of Oscar being afflicted with the Mermaid’s Curse, let say…that Oscar’s curse is called the Pumpkinhead curse.

 Likeimagine…Oscar being a farm-bred countrypumpkin who had to move to the city to attend high school and becauseof this, he’s affectionately been christened the nickname of “country pumpkin” by his peers.

Let’s say…that much like Nene, Oscar’sstory was that he had a crush on one of his upperclassman and wanted to make awish to change his appearance so that his crush could finally notice him andmaybe become his girlfriend. Let’s say…that having grown up on a farm far outin the countryside, Oscar has always dreamed of living in the city and hadbasically dreamt up this little fantasy of what his dream “highschool experience”would be and for the sake of this AU, one of his ambitions was somehow becomingthe proud lovingly devoted boyfriend of the most popular girl at school.

Nowaccording to rumours around the school, Oscar’s crush liked “tall handsome city boys” so unfortunatelyfor Oscar, his small, cute farm boy look wasn’t going to cut it for him inwinning over the affection of his future girlfriend.

Atfirst Oscar thought that his luck with his crush might not change until heheard a rumour about one of the schools Seven Mysteries. Mystery No. 7---TheRuby Rose of the Abandoned Barn house in the back of the school compound.Basically the deal was that the Ruby Rose was supposed to be some kind ofsupernatural jinn who grant one wish to anyone who is able to successfullysummon it.

Longstory short, Oscar goes to the barn in hopes that he could successfully summonthe Ruby Rose. But to Oscar’s surprise, rather than summoning a super imposingmystical genie of the magic arts here to grant him any wish he so desired likehe had imagined in his impressionable overactive farm boy imagination, Oscarinstead finds a ghost girl dressed in a red hood who addresses herself as RubyRose.

Basicallythe idea I’m having here is that before making the choice to go live in thecity, Oscar lived a rather sheltered life in a small town where the only thinghe had to connect with were books that his aunt would lend him. So because ofthis, let’s say Oscar has a skewed,child-like impression of what the real world is. In a nutshell, he’s very naïve. Not stupid. Just gullibleenough to believe a silly school rumour about a supernatural being who cangrant him his wish to make him desirable enough for his crush to love him.

(YesI know that sounds silly and totally out of character for Oscar but since Oscaris meant to be Nene here I tried to give him the key Nene-isms---her thirst for the love of the oppositesex--- while maintaining some of his canonical RWBY traits).

Anyways;like I said---Oscar successfully summons Ruby: He didn’t really have to domuch. Just leave a plate of chocolate chip cookies and milk in the centre ofthe room while say “Ruby Rose” three times.

Howevershenanigans happen which result in Oscar failing to get his wish from Ruby who,as it turnt out, can’t really do anything to change Oscar’s appearance.

Thisthen leads to Oscar eating a cursed cookie that he took off of Ruby.Let’s say…the cookie is heart-shapedwith red velvet icing and strawberry hearts on one side while the other side wasdecorated like a Halloween pumpkin face.

Let’s say…the idea behind thecookie---the Cursed Pumpernickelcookie--- is that should two people share the cookie, they would be boundedtogether for all eternity and live a lifetime of love, happily ever after.However should the pair’s love not be mutually reciprocated with only one halfof the cookie being eaten, the recipient of the eaten half shall fall prey tothe Pumpkinhead curse.

Thisis what ends up befalling poor Oscar. The idea I had was that, much like Nene,Oscar pilfered Cursed Pumpernickel off of Ruby while she was sifting throughher pocket for another token to help him “woo” his crush.

Whenasked about the cookie, Ruby harmlessly informs Oscar about the “power” of thePumpernickel cookie, not thinking that Oscar would ever be so foolish enough to actually eat itknowing the details of its curse. However, unfortunately for Ruby, Oscar wasthat foolish and eats one of half of the Pumpernickel cookie with the intentionof giving the other half to his crush to bind them together forever.

Let’s say…in this AU, Oscar’s crush is Neon Katt. Like Oscarhas had a crush on her since his first day of high school, falling head overheels in love with her just because she and her friends were close with Oscar’supperclassman pals and Neo was always super nice and affectionate withOscar---y’know like your best friend being nice to your kid brother who has anobvious crush on her type of scenario.

SoOscar goes to give Neon the other half of the Pumpernickel but as he does,their moment is interrupted by Flynt. Let’ssay…in this AU, Flynt and Neon areclose childhood best friends who’ve secretly had feelings for each other foryears. (Because in the squiggle shire, we still ship Funky Cat or whatever the name of Flynt x Neon’s ship is). So Flyntconfesses his love to Neon and much to Oscar’s heartache, Neon reciprocates hisfeelings. She even forgets that Oscar was even standing there before Flyntreminds her of his presense.

Butas Neon goes to take the reaming half of the Pumpernickel that Oscar was aboutto offer her, Oscar, doing his best to hide his sadness, makes up some cock andbull story about the cookie being bad and no longer good enough to give Neonanymore. He then congratulates Flynt and Neon on their newfound relationshipbefore running off; claiming to be returning to class.

Assaid, Oscar is heartbroken---realizing how foolishhe had been for pursuing Neon. But before Oscar could lament on hisfoolishness, he is suddenly overtaken by the Pumpkinhead Curse. Oscar is turned into a pumpkin. Thenext thing Oscar knows he opens what he assumesto be his eyes, looking up to find Ruby standing over him. However for some oddreason, Oscar could no longer feel his hands or his legs. He suddenly feels very, very different.

Itis then when Ruby holds up a mirror to Oscar to show his new pumpkin body---asmall bright orange pumpkin with a fluffy head of leaves and vines which Rubyhad been kind enough to carve out his eyes and mouth so he could see and talkto her. She even took the liberty of carving out tiny holes where Oscar’sfreckles would be on his face.

WhyI like the concept of Oscar’s curse being the Pumpkinhead curse is, not justbecause it was inspired by the Oz character of the same name but mainly becauseof a quote that Jack Pumpkinhead said after he had first come to life:

“���It will take me alittle time to discover whether I am very wise or very foolish…”

 Ilike the idea of Oscar winding up cursed because his affection for Neon and hisdesperation to have her return his feelings had made him foolish in his pursuitof love or something along those lines. I like this idea just as much as I likethe idea of those afflicted with the Pumpkinhead Curse ending up becomingpumpkins to be added to the patch of a supernatural entity known as the PumpkinKing.

Y’knowhow in Hanako, we had the Mermaid Queen apparition who told Nene that if shebecame her servant she would be loved by her and her fish people? Well for thisAU, my idea is that Oscar would become apumpkin in the Pumpkin King’s Patch to be marriedoff to one of his literal spoiled rotten pumpkin-headed children. Sobasically by being cursed, Oscarunintentionally set himself up to become the future groom to the Pumpkin King’s eldest daughter whose been knownto eat her husbands, much to the farm boy’s dismay since not only did henot want to be a pumpkin for the rest of the life but he certainly did not wantto be married off to a pumpkin either at the tender age of 14.

Soto avoid becoming the Pumpkin Princess’ latest snack and umpteenth deadhusband, Ruby makes Oscar a deal he couldn't refuse. Much like Hanako did withNene, Ruby binds herself to Oscar and becomes his "girlfriend" as a means of keeping the Pumpkin King fromclaiming him for his daughter (which basically becomes like a sort of runninggag with the Pumpkin King and his minions constantly trying to persuade orstraight up kidnap Oscar into becoming the future little Pumpkin Prince).

Andto seal to deal that they were now bound together, Ruby eats the other half ofthe cursed Pumpernickel Cookie before kissing Oscar while he was still inpumpkin form which turns him back into a proper human boy.

Sobasically Oscar also ends up losing hisfirst kiss to Ruby; much to the farm boy’s embarrassment.

Butbottom-line, Ruby and Oscar were now bound together through the PumpkinheadCurse. However, because she had went out of her way to help him, Oscar beingbound to Ruby almost meant that he owed her indefinitely.

Andconsidering that Ruby was now Oscar's quote unquote "girlfriend", she pretty much make lives up to that titleby ensuring that Oscar played the part of her so-called lovingly devoted“boyfriend”, wading on the jubilantly childish yet mysterious apparition handand foot while additionally assisting her in her maintenance of the balancebetween the living and supernatural world. Because in Oscar’s case, it waseither that or being a talking pumpkin head turned pumpkin groom married to hisgiant pumpkin wife in constant fear of being eaten for the rest of his life.And that’s my idea for Oscar’s Nene-inspired story for this AU which I guess canwork as a nice little basis for it. Y'know do something similar to the originalHanako series but with a squigglytwist to it, in a sense. Besides I love the concept of Oscar being a cutelittle pumpkin more than him being a fish like Nene. But that's my idea.

Asfor the rest of the RWBY cast as Hanako-inspired characters---Well... as Imentioned before, I really dig your idea of Jaune being the Kou of thisuniverse. We can even maintain the same idea by having him come from a longline of spirit warriors dubbed the Arc-Angels or “Arc Knights” (see what I did there) with his older sister Saphronbeing a more experienced one watching over her brother’s development whilesimultaneously acting as a teacher at his high school along with her wife:Terra Cotta who is the school librarian. I like the idea of Terra beingcompletely oblivious to her wife and her family’s connection to thesupernatural world due to Saphron wishing to keep both her wife and their toddlerson away from that kind of life style. Perhapsyou can even have an idea where Saphron abandoned her duties as an Arc Knightbecause she desired a normal life with a family of her own.

Perhaps…you can have somethingwhere the Arc Knights, being the only spirit warrior family within the mainsetting of the story, were the sworn protectors of the land of the living;working to exorcise any wayward apparitions.

Let’ssay Saphron estranged herself from her family, choosing to work more closely withthe apparitions to focus on maintaining better peace between the two worlds. Butbecause Saphron had left, her baby brother Jaune was forced to take her placeand the two share an interesting dynamic where Jaune wants to prove that hecould be a great spirit warrior who won’t quit like his sister did and Saphronhas to look out for him while feeling guilty for partially making Jaune thewarrior that he was now. That’s one idea.

Nowthat I think about it. This type of story could also work for Weiss and Winter. Like I can easilypicture Weiss being an alternate version for the Kou character of this universewith Jaune being her Mitsuba. OR…perhapsin this AU, the Schnees were a rival spiritwarrior/ exorcist family to the Arcs?

Perhaps…unlike the Arcs who were open to working inharmony with the apparitions, the Schnees were not. Instead the Schneesused their family power to enslave apparitions and use them as their pawns incombat.

Let’ssay, while the Arc Knights adhered to the old school spirit warrior code, theSchnees were necromancers---summoningthe dead to fight their battles for them with little respect their pasthumanity when they were alive which the Arc family greatly frowned upon. (Imean the Schnee family semblance is practically the RWBY equivalent ofnecromancy so in this case it works)

Perhaps…you can even have athing where Jaune and Weiss are rivals coming from strong spirit warrior/exorcistfamily bloodlines or clans so the two basically grew up opposing one anotherfrom birth.

Howeverlet’s say… Jaune secretly has feelings for Weiss and at first Weiss didn’tcare much for Jaune; choosing to focus mainly on maintaining her family’s honouras encouraged by her older sister Winter.

Howeverlet’s say…Weiss ultimately shows asofter side to herself, taking an interest in Jaune’s wellbeing as a “friendwho knew him” after he gets himself involved with a ghost girl named Pyrhha (whowas resurrected by darker apparition) and started committing some questionable acts. Or something alongthose lines.

Idefinitely dig the idea of the Arcs and the Schnees being rival clans whomaintain balance in the supernatural and living world---but while the Arcscoexist in harmony with the apparitions on parlayed allegiance with theMysteries (such as Ruby Rose), the Schnees have a different way of doing thingsdespite fighting for the same cause. And this rivalry is reflected in thecharacter dynamics of Weiss and Jaune (who are students of Oscar’s highschooland his fellow upperclassman) and also their older sisters---Winter andSaphron. I’m going to change my earlier concept. I’m going to make Saphron theschool librarian along with her wife Terra while Winter Schnee is the homeroomteacher of Oscar’s class. Yeah that’s better, I like that better.

Movingalong, I definitely like the idea of Norabeing Oscar's version of Aoi-chan. Since Oscar is the focal character herein Nene’s role, I think Nora can work really, really well as the person acts asthe closest thing to a best friend he has.

Or….maybeJaune can be Oscar’s best friend in this AU but Nora is still his Aoi-chan? Maybeyou can even add a little detail where Nora is Oscar’s foster sister. Like perhaps…in this universe, the Arcs arelong-time friends of Oscar’s family (meaning his aunt and uncle in the farcountry) who were more than willing to allow him to live under their roof whilehe’s in the city pursuing his high school education.

Sobasically let’s say, in this AU, Oscar lives with Jaune who is staying withSaphron and Terra. Baby Adrian alsoexists in this AU too so Oscar and baby Adrian interactions and hijinks canensue.

Ialso like the idea of Nora and Ren also beingtenants of the Cotta-Arc household. Let’ssay…Ren and Nora are basically Jaune’s best friends and adopted siblingswho were taken in by the Arc family when they were kids and ultimately movedout with Jaune to live with his sister.

Soin a nutshell, in this AU, Team JNPR 2.0 or ALPN live together with Jaune, Renand Nora maintaining their roles as Oscar’s surrogate big brothers and sisterand the closest thing to friends he has at school.

Let’s say…in this AU, due to hiscountry upbringing and his introverted demeanour, Oscar has been having a hardtime adjusting to the city and making friends in his new school and class. Butat least he had his big brother Jaune and friends to look out for him.

Asa matter of fact, I love the idea of Ren and Nora being the Aoi and Akane ofthis AU only with a small difference. Much like Aoi and Akane, Ren and Nora arechildhood best friends with Nora having an obvious crush on Ren.

Butrather than Nora being revealed to be one of the Mysteries like Akane, I'm moredigging the idea of Ren being partapparition and the first time he reveals this is to protect Nora. Like imagine…Nora constantly being the onepursuing Ren making her feelings for him obvious just like in RWBY but we don’tknow how Ren feels for Nora. We know he definitely cares for her but we're notaware of his love for her until he reveals himself as one of the Clock keepersto save Nora. 

Likeperhaps Oscar, Ruby and Jaunebelieved that Nora might’ve been masquerading as one of the Seven Mysteries dueto her mysterious dark past sharedwith Ren only for Ren to intervene and reveal himself as the true supernatural.I think that can work.

Asfor who I think the Mysteries in this AU could be, that's definitely tricky---Iknow I definitely want Ozpin to be part of the Three Clock-keepers alongsideRen. Oz can be the Clock-keeper of the Past, Ren the present but I’m not surewho the Clock Keeper of the Future would be to stir up trouble. I kind of low-key want to make Zwei theClock Keeper of the Future. Why? Having a sentient doggo control the futureand wreak havoc? Sure why not XD  

Asfor Mystery No. 2, I’m thinking maybe Blake? Perhaps her mystery could be called “The Staircase of the Beast”?Perhaps this title was shared by her and her “lover” in this universe beforethings turned Grimm when bad rumours started to spread about her lover whichturned them into a beastly monster as a result of it. 

Likeyou can say that originally Blake’s mystery was called “The Belladonna Staircase” and it used to be a sort of romanticspot that blessed couples until the rumours turned her mystery into the“Staircase of the Beast” which only preys on couples.

Ithink that can work swimmingly. As for who would play Blake’s lover in this AU,I don’t care. I’ll leave that for you or anyone to insert whoever you shipBlake with, Ly. I’m not touching that can of worms =_=);

Movingalong, since we established that Pyrhha is the Mitsuba in this AU, she willbecome Mystery No. 3.

Asfor Mystery No. 4, I think Penny works excellently here. I can definitelypicture Penny P. as one of the Seven Mysteries. Not to mention that herpersonality certain reminds me a lot of Shijima Mei.

Thesame can be said for Qrow Branwen as Mystery No. 5. His personality definitelymatches Tsuchigomori the most, at least in my opinion.

Asfor Mystery No. 6, well since the manga is now getting to touch base on hischaracter and storyline as one of the Seven Mysteries, I don’t quite know muchabout him as yet. So I’ll hold off on my choice on who could play his role fromthe RWBY universe.

Lastly,as for who will be our broadcasting clubtrio in this AU; well I think it should be obvious. In my eyes, I’mthinking Cinder Fall could play a goodequivalent to Tsukasa Yugi. While she may not share the family relation asTsukasa does to Hanako/Amane Yugi, I still think that Cinder can work as Ruby’santithesis given their connection from the canonical series.

Notto mention that Cinder Fall is the one character who can match Tsukasa’s eerilymalicious nature, in my opinion. So with Cinder as Tsukasa, this puts EmeraldSustrai and Mercury Black as her versions of Sakura and Natsuhiko with Emerald,of course, being the one bonded to Cinder like Ruby is to the Oscar.

Ithink that aspect of it definitely works a lot. But again these are just only my ideas I’m spouting. Nonetheless, letme know what you think Ly?

Didthis squiggle meister deliver well onserving up enough good brainstorming food for ya ;) I hope I did. Cheers fam!

~LittleMissSquiggles (2020)

[lianors]

THIRD CHALLENGE  — character study for lianor montagu.

word count: 4006 (minus questions) / points earned: 30

tw: abusive parental relationship, self image discussion, death, miscarriage.

001. describe  your  characters’ relationship  with  their mother  or  father, or  both.  minimum word  count:  150. 

wc: 424.

like most young noble women in the early centuries, her parents made sure lianor grew aware of the duties she would one day have to fulfill--only that in the eldest beauchamp's case, she was not to be groomed for a grand marriage right away, but to continue her mother's line in the royal household. beatriz meant to use her child as an extension of herself; while the queen was to remain at greenwhich with her lady in waiting, their daughters were to remain side by side in wales, with the baroness' daughter obliged to keep her mother informed and the princess content.

this amount of responsibility made her mature faster and strained her childhood considerably, resigning her to a smaller role in the egocentric play that is youth, when you are supposed to be at its center--such views still heavily impact her current mousey personality on her eagerness to please and her mild inability to malice.

incapacity to comply to her mother's requests and demands led to insults and punishments severely kept even through distance, but accomplishments meant receiving small gestures of kindness and praise. however, the emotional abuse endured has always been misguided as motherly care and affection, and beatriz remains as a sort of goal to her eldest daughter in many instances. still, lia consciously understands her mother's flaws and the impact it has had on herself, and, whilst engaging on the occasional self-pity for that, she actively works on shifting her own children's upbringing to the opposite of her own.

perhaps because her mother has always been so strict, richard acted as a smoothening hand, keeping constant affectionate correspondence to include her as a beauchamp alongside her younger siblings. for their physical distance, they both attempted to form a bond -- it was strengthened by similar (albeit, at the beginning, feigned, solely for the goal of receiving his affection) interests such as the running of the kidderminster state and a keenness for architectural and exterior design.

the relationship has somewhat strained in the wake of her position as a mistress--her father could no longer idolize her as a wide eyed four year old when she was a woman grown, committing adultery within the marriage he had arranged for her, with a man who will never have her in a honorable manner.

though often accused to conspire to elevate his family through whoring his daughter, the baron is in fact uncomfortably against the relationship, often advising her to stick to her marital bed despite how badly that would play to their family's betterment.

002. what  are  your characters’  most  prominent physical  features?  what is  a  feature that  they  are most  insecure  about? what  are  they proudest  of?

if you are to be quite obvious, then that would be the red hair plus grey-green eyes combo--her hair is thick, in a vibrant shade of auburn that shines even bellow modest headwear, and her eyes are very big, with protruding eyelids and long carmine lashes. they beg for contact, locking on her interlocutor with an unnerving curiosity, even over the smallest, pettiest subjects.

modest, lia often chooses to be proud about the things that people compliment, so her response would match mine, only accompanied by random facts about the source of her rose water, a self-depreciative tone and a bat of eyelashes to convey a coyness that is bred on insecurity.

due to her low self esteem, there are actually plenty of topics she diminishes about herself: her body type, too lean to be considered attractive to time standards, used to plague her mind whenever she strip off her heavy garments for the night. after childbirth, her curves have been accentuated and she has gained enough weight for her to swat away this particular worry, but another physical detail continues to haunt her: her bone structure is well pronounced, with high cheekbones and full cheeks, a sharp jaw and a slightly protruding chin; her mouth is large, and her gums frequently peek out whenever she laughs or talks too excitedly -- her mother caught that once, and reprimanded her by calling her horse faced, a petty nickname that haunts her to refrain herself from expressing glee in public to this day.

003. how  vain  is your  character?  do they  find  themselves attractive?  what  is their  worst  flaw, and  are  they aware  of  it?

although lianor can not say she is unattractive, she has a remarkably low self esteem that drives her to compare herself to others, picking unimportant details that makes her stand out and deeming herself plain. one would propel themselves to rise their “boring” beauty with earthly possessions, but lia’s flares of vanity are scattered and inconstant, due to this very self-image problem she carries. her worst characteristic, if this is to be taken to the psychological realm as i believe, would be her hypocrisy, which pairs very well with her ability to delude herself -- due to the deep rooted delusion of moral superiority, she often makes herself blind to it.

004. what  is  your character’s  ranking  on the  kinsey  scale?

conditioned to both servitude under one mistress, and to fulfill her marriage duties in order to better her family's standing, lianor was thrust in a world she was to keep company of women but to learn how to please men. that lead her to seek out to comply by her curiosity with the same gender at first, but she was bound to believe any dalliance and further interest she kept on her fellow women was to be taken as platonic friendships, and any physical event to happen between her and a woman to be a test, a practice run, a way to please the prince that one time she shares a welsh girl with him, ignoring how good it felt when her lips met the wench’s. thus, i would classify her as a hesitant two, leaning towards one on the scale--interesting enough, she goes on the far opposite for her modern verse, ranking a prideful four in a clear preference towards women (harry, unfortunately, remains her hetero exception).

005. describe  your  character’s happiest  memory.  minimum word  count:  150. 

wc: 519

childhood is an age of egotism. it is the time of your life things are excused by the notion of one’s innocence, granted by the holy sacrament of the washing of sins. such notions rings truer the higher in hierarchy one is born into; while the prince of wales’ name day festivities were grand affairs, with foreign emissaries and gifts richer than our savior’s on his birth day, lianor stays by her mother’s skirts, fingers twiddling in intimidation and anxiety. she has tears in her eyes as little clem holds the prince’s hand, parading him to their portuguese relations; lianor wants nothing but to run out of the gardens, but she hesitates, scared she would be punished harsher if she ran to hide her tears than if she stayed put, red faced in the effort not to burst in a crying fit.

it was not fair her friends received a feast for the ages while she was not able to get her father to visit her in a whole year. that cloak of ignorance prevents her from understanding the demands of a war campaign, or how a landowner’s duties cannot withstand distance for a mere sentimentality.

two months and six days later, there is still war to be won and foreign men to kill, but he comes as an unmistakable figure: tall and dark, still sporting some of his battle gear. when he picks her up -- hello, my princess, whispered against her hair -- she smells the sweat, the soot from the road, the overwhelming sweat of horse and man and something that should taste metallic, but she is too young to be familiar with it. they have not seen each other in a year, but she swears father smells of home, of worcester. he must, mustn't he?

richard spends the day, hand in hand with his daughter, a curious silence as he listens to her go on about the whole year spent apart -- he cuts her only when they reach the royal gardeners who worked on rooting the plants brought as a gift with the braganza; he sends him them off and tells his daughter they will do it themselves. by the end of it they are both sweaty, her dress stained with mud and dirt and grass; he promises to get her a new one as he washes the filth out of her hands, paying close attention as he cleans her nails, as gentle as a soldier yet as attentively as an experienced ladies' maid.

the domesticity of a single day with her father should hardly pay up for years of absence and mild abandonment, but the memory remains very dear to lianor, for it had put her, a whiny child who was not even his heir, as important enough for her father to forgo his duties to appease her, even if for pity. as someone who had to learn to resign herself to a smaller position and to have her wishes disregarded in favor of another's, she sees the idyllic day of her ninth name day as a proof love matters, that she matters.

006. is  there  one event  in  your characters’  life  that they  would  like to  erase  from their  past?  why? minimum  word  count: 200. 

wc: 590.

she is granted a small leave for her mother’s lying in -- the announcement of a pregnancy this late in the baroness’ life had driven her eldest daughter to tears of laughter, a brief moment of mocking that had become a remorseful memory when she understood how dangerous it was -- which gleefully coincided with john’s fifteenth name day. to say lia had been more excited for the later would be an understatement, for she had spent the past six months looking for the perfect present. she had exchanged letters with a bride-to-be, fashioning the marriage to be a good gift for his coming of age; she had requested fine silks to work on making a suitable, rich clothing from scratch; she had even looked over every stable between ludlow to london in the search of a good stallion for the boy.

driven by her brother’s recently deepened passion for animals, she decides by the horse, a majestic mixed breed from the king’s own personal stable. a young, fierce thing, it had not yet been broken -- lianor imagined lizzie and her would have quite a laugh while watching the boy flee from the grand beast; a much needed distraction from mother’s cantankerous nature, worsened by each passing month of the recommended bed rest.

to relieve her sister from another tormentous morning, lianor assumes the position of vigil by their mother’s bedside. she recalls vividly that particular morning, when she woke with the scent of a full chamber pot and the shrieking patter of “how damned i must be at this age, with a wee one kicking at my and my daughter hell bent on making us living in a pigsty”. it was pure annoyance that lead lianor outside in order to clean the dark confinement room, and to fetch herself something to eat; her ribs ached from the poor sleeping position from the night before, papa was nowhere to be seen, and her copper haired brother pestered her to let him go outside and play with his present.

“just go already!” were her last words for john, who ran out of her eyesight before she could return to her senses.

though her patience plagues at her senses early, appeasing mother keeps her occupied enough to stop her from acting on her remorse; she imagines something sweet would do to remedy any resentment between the siblings over her curt words earlier, a cake sweetened with honey and covered in fresh fruit. the batter is not yet whipped when the boy’s body comes; the shattered bowl nearly cutting skin as it falls on the kitchen floor, where richard rushes to put the boy down by the hearth. john moaned in pain, begging for something to appease the cold and feverishly asking of the horse.

“what was that?” beatriz asks as soon as her eldest daughter enters the room, stupor coloring the girl’s cheeks and making her livid -- the only thing she felt was the lingering taste of fruit in her tongue. her mother is worry personified, eyes widen, belly swollen; it would take her one push to get up from her long confinement, one fall to end it for her. lia is by the bedside in one moment, guiding her mother back into the bed, tightening the blankets around the pregnant woman; she swallows the taste of cake and gal and the heaviness of tears, and utters a smile. “margaret dropped the bowl for john’s cake, cut her hand. silly girl. rest, mama. i will bring you a slice soon.”

007. let’s  talk  favourites! what  is  their favourite  colour,  food, and  season?   what, in  a  modern setting,  would  be your  character’s  favourite song?

the vibrancy of her hair made her find what suits her best early on, so she began to favor yellow (from pale to gold) and green (she often adorns herself with emeralds); she also enjoys earthy tones, and pale, “pure” colors such as blues and soft pink. not commonly boastful, she exempts her modesty in her culinary taste, enjoying fruits and having a very well-known sweet tooth she often indulges on. for season, it would have to be spring, when the blossoms pucker out and the air is filled with that utopic scent of life. tbh i don’t really know music, so i’ll just spitball it and say lia listens to a lot of musical tracks and movie soundtracks.

008. can  you  define a  turning  point in  your  character’s life?

she suffered a miscarriage at kidderminster in 1448, which alarmed her mother to her misbehaving and propelled her to a marriage that would happen within the next eight months.

009. is  your  character an  early  morning bird  or  a night  owl?  at what  time  do they  get  most of  their  work done?

over a decade priming herself to be the first to wake so she would ready clementine has entrenched a routine in the eldest beauchamp which causes her inability to stay and sleep in, regardless of exhaustion or a vacant schedule. so she rises early, and has only recently learned how to indulge herself a couple of hours longer in bed with her children, her lover or amidst letters that have piled up over the week.  

010 a.  what  other character,  a  npc or  someone  apart of  the  rp, is  your  character completely  real  with? who  knows  them best,  has  seen them  at  their most  vulnerable,  knows their  innermost  and basest  fears?  b. if  your  character does  not  have this  person,  why? do  they  long for  one?

over the years she has learned the value of keeping things only for herself, so this may be a bit tricky. she confides and is confided on often by harry and clementine, but she usually refrains, and watches her words carefully when it comes to her own private matters. perhaps the one she would speak the most candidly to would be her sister, whom she trusts wholeheartedly -- particularly because her secrets have already been spilled in the beauchamp household, and to attempt a facade next to her sister is not only unnecessary, but also exhaustive.

011. is  your  character a  neat  or messy  person?

incredibly neat. lianor is a bit of a freak on that subject even--out of habit, she is known for fixing portraits out of place, quickly picking up at clothes discarded and subtly nagging at those who do not meet her standards.

012. does  your  character have  any  irrational fears  or  phobias?

many, though most would fall on the psychological realm such as being left or her secrets being found out leading to herself and her family’s fall from grace. after her last pregnancy, she has been extremely careful not to fall with child, afraid that if her fertility flares up once more it will be the last she will be able to carry whilst remaining on her position.

013. does  your  character have  an  underlying passion  or  trait that  influences  all aspects  of  their life?

a trait could be her ability to compromise. when they look at her, as they think her submissive -- which, to be quite fair, she is -- but lia also enjoys seeing things going her way, lately in a manipulative manner; she does not mind being diminished and, being adaptive, she doesn't mind playing by someone else's games, as long as the results end up pleasing her somehow (i.e: letting her husband humiliate her a time or two in exchange for her sexual and emotional "freedom".)

 014. what  might  your character’s  ideal  romantic person  be?

this is probably one of the most difficult questions on this because lia is so very particular, and she has already made her mind about not trailing off in fantasies -- as a woman wed for five years, and engaged in a dalliance nearly twice as long, she feels it is wrong, kind of a betrayal for her to wish her partner(s) to be different. as she grew, like many other girls, she wanted someone gallant -- tall and athletic, of high birth to please her mother; she needed him to be understanding for she did not want to leave her position by the princess, but he should also be devoted, because she needs someone to make it known she matters for him. she would rather him not to be too old, because she wanted many children, and to raise them as a harmonious, loving couple. nowadays, she is more realistic, and would settle for the understanding bit in a man; however, she is well aware that if her husband were to pass, she would remain a widow for the rest of her days (something she wouldn't complain much about, considering how miserable she has been in a disagreeable marriage).

015. describe  your  character’s hands.  are  they small,  long,  calloused, smooth,  stubby,  dexterous or  clumsy?  do they  wear  any jewelry  and  would they  wear  polish in  a  modern setting?

remarkably petite, her hands break the consensus: large for her standard size, with long thin fingers and a translucent -- slightly reddened at the knuckles and fingertips -- skin that makes the purple lines all the more vibrant, they are a matter of insecurity for the countess. yet she can not drop the habit to pull at them, twisting her fingers nervously and picking at jewelry. her insecurities are, for most part, ill found: her hands are nimble and dexterous, well matched with quick reflexes that allow her a talented hand at most repetitive activity that would put them in the spotlight, such as calligraphy or needlepoint; when involved by another’s, they remain just as small as she is, and their softness to the touch grants her further adoration, as she is keen to give affection by physical touch.

as she displays wealth sparingly, other than on short occasions such as feasts, she only wears rings that hold some sort of meaning: a signet of the beauchamp her father had crafted upon her birth, and a locket ring harry plantagenet gifted her about five years ago.

modern lianor has trouble growing her nails for many years -- her fingers are bleeding stomps through most of her childhood to teenage hood, and she only gains the habit of properly manicuring by the age of fourteen, and that is mostly because of her jealousy over the sound of her friend’s nails tapping against hard surfaces. for most, she keeps her nails at a modest length, painting it with nude colors and pepper-infused bases (to refrain her from biting the polish and her nails off) on weekdays and sporadically indulging in her sister’s collection of dark metallic colors.

016. how  does  your character  smell?  what is  their  favourite scent?

another monster question only because i can't tell scents apart -- what is sweet? you're not eating perfume, karen. but, well, knowing lianor, i believe she leans towards more citrusy smells, luxuriously infusing cut up lemons and oranges in her rose water when she bathes; it proves to be an expensive habit seeing as she bathes with some regularly, often more than a couple times per week. anachronically hygienic, she blames it on her mother's portuguese habits, but the truth is she just enjoys feeling cool and smelling nice.

017. how  would  your muse  describe  their religious  beliefs?

the portuguese are well known for their strong faith, and beatriz is no different. she made sure her children were practicing catholics, and lia grew up fearing both god and her mother's wrath. by staying as true as she can to her book of praying, she understands that god is also love, and that she should attempt to make religion a less dull duty when she passes that around, either that be to her younger companions or, currently, to her children. despite that optimism, she is terrified of the curses she may unleash upon her own by her godless misbehavior, and promptly donates in abundance to the clergy.

018. what  rules  does your  muse  live by,  if  any?

loyalty above all. there are things to gain from remaining constant in your favor, especially when your fortunes are dependent on how higher born people feel about you. thankfully, lianor was graced with patience and willingness, but to accept her submission and to bite her tongue is at times still an arduous task she must prevail, not only for her own good now but her children's.

019. does  your  muse overshare,  or  are they  more  private?

now, that’s very dependent. lia is, by rule, very private -- incredibly quiet, she is comfortable with silence, and prefers to remain tight lipped around court. But, curious as she is, it does not take long for her to bloom into a conversation if it interests her enough; her tongue loosens by her passion on the subject, either that be in a negative or a positive light. still, her words are well measured, her speech purposefully tattered with meaningless, lovely, at times pathological anecdotes to endear the people she wants on her side. true confessions only escapes her in the presence of those she cherishes the most and are her longest standing confidants.

020. is  your  muse a  gossiper?  are they  more  likely to  argue  with their  fists  or tongue?  what  does their  voice  sound like?

due to the misfortunate rumors that seem to follow her in court, lianor abstain from gossip--however, that hardly means she is not observant and keen of the talk, especially when it involves something about her loved ones and that could be of help for them.

as she is virtually unable to protect herself physically, her few lessons in sword fighting long forgotten as childhood play, she must hone her tongue from time to time to protect herself -- truly, she is not proficient at that, and oftentimes she ends up abiding by the humiliation.

lianor is very soft spoken, with a honeyed, deep yet feminine voice. (i’m not certain how to describe a voice lmao hers is charlotte’s real voice, outside of that ridiculous accent from the spanish princess).

021. is  your  muse  a …  pessimist  or optimist …  lover  or fighter … believer  in  happy endings …  believer  in love  at  first sight?

she walks a line between both, though she is originally very optimistic and often attempts to keep herself upbeat. unmistakably a lover, though reality has dulled her romanticism and makes her cynical towards these notions of an easy love--instead, love must be kept and groomed for it to grow and remain.

022. what  sense  of humour  does  your character  have?

a poor one. lianor doesn’t consider herself particularly funny, so she often falls to depreciating, insulting jokes she is the subject to; jests about herself from other people, though, drive her to annoyance. though she is sensitive and rather particular about what amuses her, she can be efficient in continuing a playful round of tease between those she favors.

023. what  bad  habits does  your  character have?

the most pertinent misbehavior i have pointed out a few times is her growing habit to turn to deception. as a young woman whose future depends on how she keeps her honor, either that be physical or psychological, she was, in a practical, vocal sense of it, discouraged to lie, but lia caught people doing it so anyways, if only to disburden themselves by a white lie. a white lie, that is what she claims to use in her favor; it is necessary not to hurt herself and her loved ones, so she tells herself, even as she spews unnecessary fantasious tales.

024. how  does  your character  feel  about growing  old?

i believe she remains ambiguous about it, as most women do? though her power and wealth comes from a position maintained assumingly by her body, she does not fret about this so much, for if her beauty faded, she would still have her mind and, she hopes, harry’s heart. however, when she first saw a pale thread among her fiery tresses, she probably thought of her mother’s own graying hair, and how in old age she will deteriorate to the point of non-recognition and complete oblivion, souring her moods and driving her to isolation.

025. does  your  character prefer  adventure  to safety  and  security?

adventure had never been much of an opportunity, for she is of lesser noble birth, and her family’s odds depended on her ability to better herself by marriage or service to the crown. so she faithfully abided for most of her youth, but bouts of recklessness were not absent in her idyllic days at the welsh border, and whenever she felt her cheeks aching just from laughing, she imagined this was the kind of life one is supposed to lead. she always, soon enough, promptly convinced herself it was not the right life, and she strives for stability, a calm, quiet life alongside the people she loves -- it is a naive thought, though, and she brushes it off to return to her duties.

[pettyelves]

of what We are capable I

[TW Brutality, Gore, Violence]

The sea was fair-- which was in direct dissonance with the superstition aboard The Queen’s Gambit that women brought with them rough seas. They were the only full-blooded Kaldorei aboard, her and Reveria-- and the other among them the only women. And the eyes, the sniffs too long in their direction. 

Hungry wolves trying to prey on lionesses. Eilithe did not employ weak anyone let alone weak women. Yet, Kurel warned her long ago, that a woman sneaking into the Captain’s cabin to lay with him only bred jealousy, and jealousy bred fantasy. 

“SAILS!” 

The Blind King and The Golden Bastard were out ahead- Justice as The Gambit’s consort. A brigantine  Kurel barked orders, over the deck-- relayed by Saeris. Over the seal he, with startlingly little information commanded the fleet into a perfect blockade with guns all faced to Viktor’s galleon. 

“FIRE!” Kurel boomed in a way that sent a shiver up the back of her neck. If not for the unique tone of voice he got at sea-- for the way his order echoed from ship to ship ‘fire all’ followed by the tearing of canons into ship. As she let his side, a single brush of her knuckles against his meant ‘I love you’ as much as it meant ‘see you on the other side’. 

One brig that moved to guard was sunk after returning fire only twice, and a second brig sat with her stern blown apart having tried to flee. The coup de gras was Kurel’s secret weapon, an undead named Perry who was gone from the ship shortly after they’d formed up. Eilithe was waiting by the rails- the moment the skiff went, she would be on it-- but she turned, distracted by Kurel. “PERRY! BLOW I’!” 

A seconds deal came, before an explosion sent the remains of Captain Viktor galleon sky high in pieces. The aftershock rippled waves into the ocean, Eilithe smirked. She guessed that meant she wasn’t getting Viktor’s ship. “LOOSE SKIFFS!”

Now it was her turn, after all that had been her agreement, her by land and him by sea. Reveria was left with the bulk of the forces--not only because she was the most capable of leading a charge but she would ensure that the blood lust was directed at slavers and no one else.

That left Kurel and the skirmishers with her, and Sylirae was-- whether she knew it or not, being groomed for independence and even leadership. The entirety of the small army going to shore knew.  “Free the slaves and get them to the western beach.  Kill every last one of them! They do not get our mercy! Then burn this city to the ground, but Captain Viktor belongs to Kurel and I,” she shouted, and Dead Sun’s shouted back in kind. 

Ashore, cries of Shal’Theran soldiers were always recognizable by the war cry of ‘Ya’Til-Anath!’ which was not meant for the cowards about to die-- but a Shal’Theran’s brother or sister on the field. 

Once Eilithe’s feet were on the ground, the honorable notions that upheld the Shal’Thera were far from her mind. When she swung her first blow, Eilithe was thinking about the poor, brutalized Mary Giles. She was thinking about the man who’d gotten close enough to her youngest daughter to trim a lock of hair. And she was angry. 

Kurel was perpetually at her side-- as designed for their end goal. Sylirae hugged close behind and if they were so outnumbered on the shores, Eilithe might’ve taken a moment to admire the grace in which Sylirae came from the shadows like she was dancing from them. Leaving her behind to free the caged, Kurel and Eilithe moved for the closest building which was, in appearance unguarded. 

She motioned for Kurel to stop, and she listening-- even over the gun and canon-fire, she heard movement.

“Break it down?” Kurel asked, and Eilithe shook her head. “No, hold.” She reached to the door and tapped in Da’Til My men--inside? What answered was likely the kicking of a barefoot against wood, We are here. 

About that time the patrol rounded the corner, a big fat man with two men to back him. Eilithe scoffed at them as though they were an annoyance before she buried a blade in the chest of the one on their left. As though it was designed this way, Sylirae struck in time with Eilithe, pulling a garrote so tightly around the man on their right’s neck that when the body fell to the docks, his head hung on  by but threads. That left the big man for Kurel.

As Peter rounded the corner Eilithe pointed for the door, “Get it open.” And it was not a bark, but an order given calmly. Kurel rushed the fat man and the two were trading blows when she heard Kurel utter Gra’Dighet from the shadows. Unlike Svalte--when Gra’Dighet feasted on the living, he did not leave a trace. If Sylirae’s knives planted into both the man’s lungs wasn’t enough to kill the man, Gra’Dighet took him body and soul to the Other Side. 

She left then, with Kurel at her side. Peter would be left in Sylirae’s charge-- though she must have left him to freeing Hector and the others. A smart move because if anyone could start a fire, it was Peter. 

Before Eilithe and Kurel could get to the main house, which was left untouched they were ambushed once more. Though between the two of them and Sylirae stalking the shadows, they made quick work of them-- leaving only Eilithe injured. Not injured enough to stop her carnage. 

“Need one or two survivors if you want this to be a statement as well,” Sylirae said, whilst Eilithe was tying off the stab in her leg. 

“Our statement will be when their friends return to port and find heads on pikes, and sunken ships in the bay.” Her delivery was even, but it was clear there was a directed rage at every person on this island that had hand in slave trader-- in capturing her men. A less pissed off Eilithe might’ve considered Sylirae longer. 

After two failed attempts at kicking in a barred door, Eilithe barred her arm over her lover’s chest. “Hold on,” she said, “And give me a pistol.” It was rare she used guns, and it was purposeful at this very moment she’d choose to. When she spoke beside the door, it was with the honeyed voice of a woman. A merciful mother, a good woman-- a kind woman. “Whomever is inside of there, if you have want to live, unbarred the door, crack it, and put your hands up.” Her thumb had long clicked the hammer on Kurel’s pistol back. 

It took less than sixty seconds for the door to crack, for Eilithe to rush that cracked door and shoot the doorman point blank in the face. This garnered a scream from a group of whores, which Eilithe turned her head toward. What a background Kurel gave her, rushing the other two guardsman who’d surrendered and bashing one’s head to cave against the wall.  “Run,” Eilithe said and the second man met nearly the same fate as the first. 

All the way upstairs, Viktor was alone with his cutlass and a single-shot pistol which he immediately leveled at Eilithe.  What an arrogant one he was, he was stalling he confessed. “We’ll sit right like this until my extraction is answered or I’ll give her a new hole to fuck.”

Kurel twitched a little. Like he felt a pinch in his muscle and the corner of his nose crinkled with a sneer. "Runnin' some more. Tha' all you know how to do Viktor? I mean really I'm relieved. Chasin' you down these las' two days, been some of the mos' excitin' times I've had i n the las' few months. Bein' tha' if... " His head shifted slightly, as though he spared a glance to Eilithe, then set his focus back on Vicktor. "All you plan doin' is puttin' a hole in her for me to fuck-- go ahea'. She'll survive tha'."

And she would, she’d survived worse than that. 

 Viktor took to be debating, because ultimately he was stalling and whatever was happening wasn't  far off as the air in the room grew cold. Mentally, she exchanged words with Kurel, that chill was familiar. Her trip to the jungle had began with a chase. That chase had began with a chill like the one which bled into the room now. The Sleeper and Eilithe was in no mood  for heretical fuckery.

‘Force him to fire on me.’

"Oh no-- not for you,” Viktor began in retort,”For me. How long she'll hold out for me if'n I shoot her in the stomach?" He shifted a bit, "Or, I could turn this gun on myself-- take the satisfaction right out of your han--"

Part II [ @velerodra-valesinger @kurel-andiel @revthepunchbear @silver-by-the-sea @longveil @sylirae ]