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invisibleicewands · 5 months ago

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‘I wanted to be seen as the greatest actor of all time. Then I realised that was nonsense’: Michael Sheen on pride, parenting and paying it forward

He’s the feted star who cracked Hollywood, but it was only when he swapped LA for his home town in Wales that he was able to do his most meaningful work yet

By Simon Hattenstone

Michael Sheen has been fabulous in so many TV dramas and movies, it’s hard to know where to start. But perhaps his most memorable appearance came earlier this year in a TV show that didn’t require him to do any acting at all. The Assembly was a Q&A session in which he took questions from a group of young neurodiverse people. Sheen didn’t have a clue what would be asked, and no subject was off limits. It made for life-affirming telly. The 55-year-old Welsh actor was so natural, warm and encouraging as he answered a series of nosy, surprising and inspired questions. I watched it thinking what a brilliant community worker Sheen would be. And, in a way, that’s what he has become in recent years.

“The Assembly’s had more response than anything else I’ve ever done,” Sheen tells me. “Almost every day someone will come up to me and mention it, particularly people who have children with autism. They say it was just so lovely to see something where the interviewers were empowered. I had a fantastic time.” He replays some of his favourite moments: the young man Leo who took an age to start talking, and then delivered the most beautifully phrased question about the influence of Dylan Thomas on Sheen’s life; the woman who asked what it was like to be married to a woman only five years older than his daughter; and the question that came at the end: “What’s your name, again?” He smiles: “And Harry with the trilby on. Just the nicest man ever.” You came across as an incredibly nice man, too, I say. “Aw well, it’s hard not to be when you’re among all those amazing people, innit.”

Today we meet in London, ostensibly to talk about A Very Royal Scandal, a gripping mini-series about Prince Andrew’s infamous Newsnight interview with Emily Maitlis – the disastrous attempt to defend his honour that sealed his fall from grace. But we don’t get to the show till it’s almost going home time. Sheen’s too busy discussing all the other stuff that matters to him, away from business.

Six years ago, he swapped life in Los Angeles for Port Talbot, the steel town where he grew up. These days he calls himself a not-for-profit actor – a term he happily admits he’s invented. “It means that I try to use as much of the money I earn as I can to go towards developing projects and supporting various things. Having had some experiences of not-for-profit organisations and social enterprises, I realised that’s what I want to do with my business. And my business is me.” He grins. There was a suggestion that he might stop acting in order to do good works, but he says that never made sense; only by getting decent gigs can he earn money to put back into the community.

It has to be said he’s got the air of a not-for-profit actor today – scruffy black top, sloppy black pants, black trainers. With a bird’s-nest beard and a thicket of greying curls, he looks nicely crumpled. But give him a shave and a trim, allow him a flash of that electric smile, and he could still pass as a thirtysomething superstar.

Sheen is best known for transforming into household names – Brian Clough in The Damned United; Chris Tarrant in Quiz; David Frost in Frost/Nixon; a trio of films as Tony Blair (The Deal, The Queen, and The Special Relationship); Kenneth Williams in Fantabulosa. His Prince Andrew is compelling; by turns petulant, pathetic, monstrous and poignant. He has a gift for inhabiting famous people – voice, body, soul, the works. He’s equally adept as a regular character actor – the dapper angel Aziraphale in Good Omens, pale and pinched as spurned suitor William Boldwood in the 2015 film of Far From the Madding Crowd, the tortured father of a daughter with muscular dystrophy in last year’s BBC drama Best Interests. He even plays a winning version of himself alongside David Tennant (and their respective partners Anna Lundberg and Georgia Tennant) in the lockdown hit TV series Staged.

But the work that changed his life was his 2011 epic three-day reimagining of The Passion on the streets of Port Talbot, involving more than 1,000 people from the local community. It was years in the making, and during that time he decided he would leave Los Angeles to come home. Initially, home just meant Britain, probably London. But the longer he spent with his people, the more it became apparent to him that home could only mean one thing – returning to Port Talbot, and helping the disadvantaged town in whatever way he could.

He admits that for many years he didn’t have a clue about the reality of life in Port Talbot. He had always lived in one bubble or another. His parents were hardly flush, but they had decent jobs – his mother was a secretary, his father a personnel manager at British Steel, and both were active in amateur dramatics. Sheen was academically gifted (he considered studying English at Oxford University before winning a place at Rada), a talented footballer (he had trials with Cardiff and Swansea) and an exceptional young actor. Then came the bubble of Rada and London, followed by the bubble of LA.

It was only when he started to work on The Passion that he began to understand his home town. One day he was rehearsing with a group in a community hall when he was approached by a woman. “She told me she was the mother of this boy who’d been in my class at school called Nigel. When I was 11, he fell off a cliff in an accident and died. It was the first time I’d known someone to die. She said, ‘I’ve started up a grief counselling group here. I have a little bit of money from the council because there is no grief counselling in this area.’” She’d had no counselling when Nigel died, nor in the 31 years since. “And all these years later, she’d set up a little grief counselling thing with a bit of money, so that was extraordinary to hear.” Next time he returned he discovered that the group no longer existed because of council cuts.

Every time he went back he discovered something new. He met a group that supported young carers. Sheen doesn’t try to disguise how ignorant he was. “I said, ‘All right, what are young carers?’ And they said, ‘They’re children who are supporting a family member.’ And I’m like, ‘OK, this is a profession, they get paid, right?’ And I was told, ‘No, they don’t get paid and our little organisation gives them a bit of respite – once a week we take them bowling or to the cinema.’ I went bowling with them one night and there were eight-year-old kids looking after their mother and bringing up the younger kids. This one organisation was trying to take these kids bowling one night a week, and then that went. No funding for that, either. That kind of stuff was shocking.”

As a child, SHEEN says he was oblivious to struggle because he was so driven by his own dreams. First, it was football. By his mid-teens it was acting. West Glamorgan Youth Theatre, which he calls “one of the best youth theatres in the world”, was on his doorstep. “The miners’ strike was on when I was 15 in Port Talbot and I wasn’t really aware of it at the time. That’s how blinkered I was, because I was so obsessed by acting at that point.” Acting wasn’t regarded as a lofty fantasy in Port Talbot as it may have been in many working-class communities. After all, the town had produced Richard Burton and Anthony Hopkins.

In his late teens, heading off for Rada, Sheen feared he would be surrounded by giant talents who would dwarf his. When he discovered that wasn’t the case, he suffered delusions of grandeur. “I wanted to be recognised as the greatest actor in the world,” he says bluntly. In the second year, the students did their first public production: Oedipus Rex. “I thought, well obviously I’ll be cast as Oedipus, then we’ll perform Oedipus to the public and when the world sees me for the first time I’ll be carried shoulder-high through the streets of London and hailed as the greatest actor of all time.” I look for an ironic wink or nod, but none is forthcoming.

Sure enough, he was cast in the lead role. “We did our first public production and I thought I was brilliant.” But nothing changed. It didn’t bring him instant acclaim. By the third night, he could barely get through the performance.

Were you a bit of a cock back then, I ask. He shakes his head. “No, I was having a breakdown. I was crying most of the time. I just fell apart. I spoke to the principal of Rada and I said, ‘I can’t continue at drama school, I have to leave.’ And he said just take some time off, which I did, and two or three weeks later I slowly came back and then completely changed the way I acted.”

Until then he believed acting was just about what he did. “I thought you just worked out how to say the lines as cleverly as you could; it had nothing to do with responding to other people or being in the moment. It was showing off, essentially. And there’s a ceiling to where you can get with that. That breakdown I had was because I’d reached the ceiling and didn’t know how to go any further. That’s why I fell apart.”

He gradually put himself and his technique back together. Was he left with the same ambition? “No. The idea of being considered the best actor of all time becomes nonsense.” In 1991, Sheen left Rada early, because he’d been offered a job he couldn’t turn down. He made his professional debut opposite Vanessa Redgrave in a West End production of Martin Sherman’s When She Danced. Theatre was Sheen’s first love, and his rise was meteoric. From the off, he was cast as the lead in the classics (Romeo and Juliet, Peer Gynt, Henry V, The Seagull) and the 20th-century masterpieces (Norman in The Dresser, Salieri and Mozart in Amadeus, Jimmy Porter in Look Back In Anger).

Sheen was doing exceptionally well when he and his then partner Kate Beckinsale moved to LA for her work in the early 2000s. She was four years younger than him, and already a movie star. Their daughter Lily, now an actor, was a toddler. He assumed that his transition to stardom in LA would be as seamless as it had been in Britain. But it wasn’t. His theatrical acclaim counted for nothing. In 2003, he and Beckinsale split up, but he stayed in LA to be close to Lily.

The first few years, he says, were so lonely and dispiriting. “I found myself living in Los Angeles, there to be with my daughter but just seeing her once a week. I had no career there – it was essentially like starting again. I had no friends and spent a lot of time on my own. It was tough. Slowly I realised how it was affecting me.” In what way? “I remember coming out of an audition for Alien vs Predator, to play a tech geek computer guy with five lines and really caring about it, and then thinking: ‘I can be playing fucking Hamlet at home, what am I doing, what’s this all about?’” He says he’d been so lucky – always working, never having to audition, getting the prize jobs. And suddenly in LA he was an outsider; a nobody.

He and Beckinsale are often cited as role models for joint parenting by ex-couples. In 2016, Beckinsale, Lily and Sheen staged a hilarious photo for James Corden’s The Late, Late Show, recreating the moment of giving birth 17 years earlier. Beckinsale reclines on a kitchen table with Lily sitting between her legs, as an alarmed-looking Sheen stands to the side. Have they always got on well since splitting up? “We’ve had our ups and downs, but we’re very important in each other’s lives. It would be really sad if we weren’t – like cutting off a whole part of your life. I’m not saying it doesn’t have its challenges, and I’m sure it’s been harder for her than for me.” Why? “Because … ” He pauses and smiles. “Because I’m more of a twat!” In what way? Another smile. “I’m not going to tell you that, am I?”

Sheen’s break in America came when he was spotted by a casting director who told him he would be perfect for a new project. Ironically, it was to play former British prime minister Tony Blair in a British TV drama called The Deal, directed by British film-maker Stephen Frears and shot in Britain. The Deal led to Frears’s The Queen, about Elizabeth II’s frigid response to the death of Diana, Princess of Wales leading to a crisis for the monarchy. Again he played Blair, this time riding to the rescue of the royals. The movie was nominated for six Oscars (Helen Mirren won best actress) and he never struggled in America again.

The longer he lived in LA, however, the more rooted he felt to Port Talbot. And the further he travelled, around the world or just in Britain, the better he understood how disadvantaged it was. “If you’re in Port Talbot one day and then the next you’re in a little town in Oxfordshire where David Cameron is the MP, it’s fairly obvious there are very different setups there. And that was connected to a political awakening.” He started to read up on Welsh history. In 2017, he returned his OBE because he thought it would be hypocritical to hold on to an honour celebrating empire when he was giving a Raymond Williams lecture on the “tortured history” of the relationship between Wales and the British state.

He began to reassess his past. “I became more aware of the opportunity I’d had in an area where there wasn’t much opportunity. At a certain point you go, Oh, people are having to volunteer to make that youth theatre happen that I’m a product of.” You’d taken it for granted? “Completely. I was happy to think everything I was doing was because of my own talent and I was making my own opportunities, and as I got older I thought maybe that’s not the whole story.”

In 2016, the long-running American TV series Masters of Sex, in which Sheen starred as the pioneering sex researcher William Masters, came to an end. Lily was now 17 and preparing for college. “I suddenly thought, Oh, I can go home now.” And six years ago he finally did – to Baglan, a village adjoining Port Talbot. Since then he has been involved in loads of community projects.

He mentions a few in passing, but he doesn’t tell me he sold his two homes (one in America, the other in Wales) to ensure the 2019 Homeless World Cup went ahead as planned in Cardiff. Nor does he mention that a couple of years ago he started Mab Gwalia (translating to “Son of Wales”), which proudly labels itself a “resistance movement”. On its website, it states: “Mab Gwalia believes that opportunity should not only be available to those who can afford it. The ambition is to build a movement that makes change.” Its projects have supported homeless people, veterans, preschool children on the autism spectrum, kids in care, victims of high-cost credit, and local journalism, which is a particular passion. “In the early 1970s in Port Talbot, there was something like 12 different newspapers. There are none now. None. Communities don’t feel represented, don’t feel their voice is heard and don’t know if the information they’re getting about what’s going on in the community is correct or not. Those are terrifying things, and without local journalism that’s what happens.”

Perhaps surprisingly, he’s even found time for the day job. Earlier this year, he played Nye Bevan in Tim Pryce’s new play about the founding father of the NHS. He also made his directing debut with The Way, a dystopian, and prophetic, three-part TV drama about the closure of the Port Talbot steelworks that results in local riots spreading across the country. How does he feel about the rioting that has scarred the country in recent weeks? “I feel the same way I think most people do. It was awful and terrifying. I worry about how much a hard-right agenda that has been growing for a long time has moved further and further into the mainstream and has clearly got more connected. It’s frightening.” Does he think the new Labour government can deliver the positive change it promises? “Pppfft.”He exhales heavily. “More optimistic than the Conservatives being in power.” Who did he vote for? “That’s my God-given right to remain a secret, isn’t it? It wasn’t the Tories!”

I ask if he’s in favour of Welsh independence. “I don’t know how I feel about it one way or the other, but I would like there to be an open discussion about everything that entails. The problem is when it gets shut down and you don’t get to talk about it.”

Would he ever go into politics? He looks appalled at the idea. “Oh God, no. No! I’d beawful.”Why?“Because I don’t want to say what other people are telling me to say if I don’t agree with it. Look at all those people who voted against the two-child benefit cap and had the whip taken away from them. That’s bollocks. People say I should go into politics because I’m passionate about things and I speak my mind. But then you get into politics and you’re not allowed to do that any more. I’ve got far more of a platform as myself. I can say what I want to say.”

Fair enough. I’ve got another idea. A couple of years ago he gave an inspired motivational speech for the Wales football team before the 2022 men’s World Cup, on the TV show A League of Their Own. Would he take the job as Wales manager if offered it? He looks just as horrified as the idea of a life in politics. “No!” Why not? “Because it’s a completely different profession. You need to know about football. I played football when I was younger, but I wouldn’t have a clue. Wouldn’t. Have. A. Clue. Just because you can make a speech doesn’t mean you’d be any good at that sort of stuff.” He says he was embarrassed about the speech initially, but now feels proud of it. “Schools get in touch and say, ‘We’ve been studying it with the class.’ I put hidden things in. There are rabbit holes you can go down.” He quotes the line, “You sons of Speed” and tells me that’s a reference to the idolised former manager and player Gary Speed who took his life in 2011. You can hear the emotion in his voice.

I’ve been waiting for Sheen to mention the new TV drama about Prince Andrew. Most actors direct you to the project they’re promoting as soon as you sit down with them. Let’s talk about the new show, I eventually say.

This is already the second drama about the Andrew interview. Did he know that Scoop, which came out earlier this year, was already in the works? “Yes, I knew before I agreed to do this.” Was it a race to see which would get out first? “There was no race, no. We always knew ours would come out after.” What would he say to people who think it’s pointless watching another film on the same subject? “Ours is a three-part story, so it’s able to breathe a lot more. There’s a lot more to it. In our story, Andrew and Emily are the main characters whereas they were very much the supporting ones in the other one.”

Did it change his opinion of Andrew? “No. It showed the dangers of being in a bubble, having talked about being in a bubble myself! The dangers of privilege.” He talks with sensitivity about Andrew’s downfall. “The thing that really struck me was when Andrew came back from the Falklands there was no one more revered, in a way. I didn’t realise his job was to fly helicopters to draw enemy fire away from the ships. I couldn’t believe they would put a royal in that position, so he was genuinely courageous. He was good-looking, a prince, and had everything going for him. Since then everything has just gone down and down and down.” He’s had so little control over his life, Sheen says. Take his relationships. “He was told he couldn’t be with [American actor] Koo Stark any more because of the controversy. He was essentially told he had to divorce Sarah Ferguson because the royal family, particularly Philip allegedly, was concerned that she would bring the family into disrepute.”

Did he end up feeling more empathetic towards him? “No!” he says sharply. Then he softens slightly. “Well, empathy? I felt I understood a bit more – because that’s my job – about what was going on. But he’s incredibly privileged and has exploited that. It seems like he has a lot taken away from him but probably rightfully so.”

A Very Royal Scandal is like The Crown in that it’s great drama but you’re never sure what’s real. Are Andrew’s lines simply made up? “It’s a combination of research and stories out there, and little snippets and invention.” While Emily Maitlis is an executive producer, Andrew most certainly is not. “Well, that’s the real difficulty for our story,” Sheen says. “On the one hand, you’ve got Emily as an exec, so you know everything to do with her is coming from the horse’s mouth. But everything to do with Andrew, not only is it really difficult to get the actual stuff, also we don’t know what he did.” He pauses. “Or didn’t do.” He’s talking about Virginia Giuffre’s allegation that Andrew raped her, which he denied. In the end, Giuffre’s civil case was dropped after an out-of-court settlement was reached on no admission of liability by Prince Andrew, with Giuffre reportedly paid around £12m.

I had assumed Sheen would be a staunch republican, but he doesn’t feel strongly either way. “There are lots of positives about royals, and lots of negatives.” His bugbear is that the heir to the throne gets to be Prince of Wales. “Personally, I would want the title of Prince of Wales to be given back to Wales to decide what to do with it, and I definitely think there’s a lot of wealth that could be used better.”

The biggest change for Sheen since returning to Wales is his family life. In 2019, he revealed that he had a new partner, the Swedish actor Anna Lundberg, that she was 25 years younger than him, and that she was pregnant. They now have two daughters – Lyra who is coming up to five, and two-year-old Mabli. As well as Staged, the couple have also appeared together on Gogglebox. They look so happy, nestling into each other, laughing at the same funnies, tearing up over the same heartbreakers. She also seems naturally funny. Given that two of his former partners (Sarah Silverman and Aisling Bea) are comedians, have all his exes had a good sense of humour? He thinks about it. “Yes. Yeah, you’ve got to have a laugh, haven’t you?” And he’s always got on well with them after splitting up? “Yeah, pretty much.”

When asked about the age difference between Lundberg and him on The Assembly, he acknowledged that they were surprised when they got together. “We were both aware it would be difficult and challenging. Ultimately, we felt it was worth it because of how we felt about each other, and now we have two beautiful children together.” He also said that being an older father worried him at times. “It makes me sad, thinking about the time I won’t have with them.”

Does being a dad of such tiny kids make him feel young or old? “Both,” he says. “My body feels very old. But everything else feels much younger. I’m 55 and it’s knackering running around after little kids. Just physically, it’s very demanding. And I’m at a point in my life where I’m aware of my physical limitations now. But in other ways it’s completely liberating, and I’m able to appreciate it more now.”

Has he learned about fatherhood from the first time round? “Yeah, I think so. I’m around more now. That’s a big part of it. When Lily was young, I was in my early 30s and doing films for the first time, so Kate would stay in Los Angeles with Lily and I would go off and do whatever.” Did Beckinsale resent that? “I don’t know that she resented it. Kate was doing better than me in terms of profile at the time, so it was different. Given that we then split up and I saw Lily even less, I very much regretted being away as much. So this time I wanted to make sure that wasn’t the case. That’s partly why I’ve set up a Welsh production company. I don’t want to work away from them as much.”

Talking of which, he says, what’s the time? “I’ve got to get back to my kids.”

On his way out, I ask what advice he would give his younger self. He says he was asked that recently and gave a glib answer. “I said buy stock in Apple.” What should he have said? He thinks about it, and finally says he’d have no advice for his younger self. He’d rather reverse the question, and think what his younger self would say to him if he tried to advise him.

“I saw an amazing clip of Stephen Colbert saying your life is an accumulation of every bad choice you’ve made and every good choice you’ve made, and the great challenge of life is to say yes to it. To say, ‘I love living, I embrace living.’ And in order to do that you have to embrace all the pain, all the grief, all the sadness, all the fucking mistakes because without that you don’t have all the other stuff.” He’s on a roll now, louder and more passionate by the word. “And I’d hate it if someone came and went, ‘Don’t do this, no do that.’ Then you just sail through your life. It would be death, wouldn’t it? So I’d tell my older self to go fuck himself.”

#Michael Sheen #The Guardian #Interview #Kate Beckinsale #regrets

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bookshelf-in-progress · 9 months ago

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For Love of the Princess: A Sleeping Beauty Retelling

The court was leaving. A colorful parade of nobles in richly-embroidered robes, with bright banners flying, were abandoning the palace with the king and queen.

And leaving Princess Aurora behind.

"We've no choice, dear," the queen had told her daughter in tears the evening before. "The whole palace will sleep when the curse falls. We've a duty to our people. We can't abandon the kingdom for a hundred years."

Princess Aurora, who'd been fairy-gifted with grace and compassion, had sweetly said she understood.

Margaret, who had no such gifts, thought the queen deserved to have her eyes pecked out by birds.

All of Aurora's ladies-in-waiting had talked late into the night--had been working over the problem for weeks as Aurora's sixteenth birthday drew ever closer with no chance of averting the curse. They had planned and theorized, but all decided at last that there was only one thing to do. They were, to a woman, going to stay with the princess. A hundred years would pass while they slept. They would wake to a strange world where everyone they knew was dead and gone. But not for all the gold in the kingdom would they abandon Aurora to face such a world alone.

Now they stood together at the palace gate. Anne, the eldest of them, with strands of gray in her hair, who had been lady to the queen before coming to serve the princess. Lydia, younger even than Aurora, fair and tall and full of energy. Celia, little, sweet and copper-haired, only a year older than Aurora. Margaret herself--tallest and most practical, with wisps of golden-brown curls fluttering in the wind. And exactly in the center, Princess Aurora, with her fairy-gifted beauty that outshone the sun itself. Margaret had come to view these girls as sisters, but as they watched the courtiers leave, she suddenly realized they were all the family she was going to have--that any of them were going to have--for the rest of her life.

When the last face, the last horse, the last banner, disappeared over the horizon, all five of the women stepped back inside the palace walls.

And were immediately faced with a problem.

"Which one of us is going to close the gate?" Celia asked, gazing up at the wicked-looking portcullis. None of them had ever touched the winch-and-chain that moved it. Who knew if they'd even have the strength to? Five women staying alone in a castle for a hundred years could not leave the palace gate open for any passing brigand to come through.

With a groan and a rattle, the chain moved, the portcullis lowered, and the metal bars fell to the ground with a bone-rattling thump.

All of the women screamed.

Had the curse come upon them already? Were they to be trapped here for a hundred years, never to escape? Margaret's heart raced--she hadn't realized how suffocating the palace would seem.

A man stepped out of the guardhouse. He wore the livery of the palace guard and had the first whispers of a mustache on his upper lip. He bowed to the princess and her ladies.

"My apologies, ladies," he said, in a baritone that sounded surprisingly deep for one who appeared barely old enough for that facial hair. "I did not intend to startle you."

He looked young and strong of limb. He carried himself with the dignity and grace of a much older man--had something in the eyes that made him seem wiser than his years.

Aurora gave a deep royal nod. "We thank you for your service. If we could know the name of our servant?"

He bowed crisply. "William of Avenroth, your highness."

Aurora gave her sweetest smile. "We are pleased to know you, and we beg your forgiveness for our outburst. We had thought ourselves alone in the palace."

"You are alone, your highness," William said. "Everyone left, save for me."

"You did not wish to escape the curse?"

William bowed again. "I have a duty, your highness, to protect the princess. All other considerations fade before that calling."

"Some would say such devotion goes far beyond duty," the princess said.

Serenely, he said, "Perhaps it does, your highness."

Aurora opened her mouth, then closed it. She bowed her head. "I am grateful for your loyalty, William."

She turned back toward the palace, and her beautiful face was pensive.

As Margaret and the other ladies followed Aurora back toward the palace, Aurora asked, "Ought I to send him away?"

"Send him away?" Anne yelped. "Why?"

Aurora hushed her, looking back over her shoulder. "I can not ask him to risk the curse for my sake."

"You haven't sent any of us away," Lydia pointed out.

"You all know me well," Aurora said. "He barely knows me."

How little Aurora understood her power. She was princess of the realm, fairy gifted, bright and shining. No person who saw her ever forgot her.

"He has served you from his boyhood, highness," Margaret said. "Though you do not know him, he is quite familiar with you."

Anne said, "He chose to stay, just as we did."

"It is not fair," Aurora said, "for all of you to give up your lives because of my curse."

Margaret said, "It's not fair that you were cursed. You did not choose it--but we can choose to love you. Let him make that same choice."

Aurora stopped, tears in her eyes. "Never has a princess had such true friends. I am afraid I can never be grateful enough."

She embraced each of them in turn, all of them caught between laughter and tears. Then she turned back toward the guard and invited him inside for supper.

In the Great Hall--now echoing and cavernous in its emptiness--they made a merry birthday supper, rejoicing over the coming of the princess' sixteenth year, and not letting themselves think about the doom that came with it. The king and queen, though not staying to celebrate the day, had left a celebratory meal behind them--roasts and fruit and cakes and punch.

Margaret had been afraid that the guard William would be out of place among them, but he blended in with ease. He was quiet, respectful, courteous, seeming to enjoy being in their presence, not minding being on the outside of their shared jokes. He helped to serve the meal, even brought some of Aurora's favorite treats from the palace stores, pointing out that they would not last the hundred years. Aurora was gracious, and, as the night went on, genuinely warm. She smiled at William with the smile she reserved for her friends, even drew him into private conversation once or twice.

Despite her assurances to Aurora, Margaret couldn't figure out why William stayed. Margaret had noticed him at the palace, had seen him serving with distinction. He was loyal, dutiful, diligent--but a man didn't become the only guard in the entire palace to risk a hundred-year curse out of duty.

It puzzled her, but she had to admit that she was glad for his presence. Having another person there made the world seem not so small.

The next day was a tense one. No spindles had been seen in the palace since the day the princess had been cursed, but curses had a way of making themselves come true. Margaret and all of Aurora's ladies stayed with her, trying to keep up her spirits and keep watch for any stray spinning wheels. William kept watch at the gates, hoping that he could fend off any evil that might try to approach from outside.

The sun was nearly below the horizon when Margaret and the other ladies followed Aurora into her room in the castle's highest tower. They all sat beside the window, watching the sinking sun, waiting for the moment when the day would end and the danger--so long feared--might pass by forever.

The last sliver of sun sank below the horizon, and all the ladies gave a sigh of relief.

"Could it be over?" Celia asked, with suppressed joy.

"Perhaps the king's plans worked," said Lydia.

Margaret could not shake a sense of foreboding. "The sun is gone, but there's still light in the sky."

Anne rose angrily. The shawl she'd been desperately knitting all day fell to the floor. "We've only a few minutes! What more could happen?"

The ladies began to quarrel--everyone's nerves were tight after the tension of the day.

Aurora rose--quietly, gracefully, but her movements attracted every eye. "Girls, let's not quarrel."

She reached beneath her bed to pick up the ball of yarn that had rolled away from Anne's knitting. "Oh!" she said in surprise, drawing her hand back. "I think I found your knitting needle, Anne."

She drew back the ruffle at the base of the bed. Beneath, they saw, not a knitting needle, but the shining, wicked point of a drop spindle.

Aurora fell onto the bed--lost in a deep sleep.

There were tears, gasps, shrieks--but they fell to work. Margaret could already feel sleep pressing down upon her, but she urged the girls to move quickly. They lifted Aurora fully onto the bed, arranged her limbs to lie flat, put pillows under her head, and covered her with blankets. If their beloved princess was to sleep for a hundred years, they could make sure she was comfortable while she did it.

Celia was the first to drop, falling to the floor in a deep swoon. Margaret placed a pillow beneath her head, and then did the same for Anne when she fell asleep at the foot of Aurora's bed. Lydia fell almost on top of Aurora, and Margaret moved her so she was stretched across blankets on the floor.

All this time, Margaret's eyelids drooped, her limbs became heavy, and her head split with yawns. She fought the curse as long as she could, trying to arrange a hundred years' worth of comforts in a few moments. But at last, even her will could not overcome the magic. Her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor, with half her body draped across the foot of Aurora's bed.

Her last thought as she fell into a hundred years of sleep was that she'd have such a backache when she woke.

Margaret woke to a world covered in dust. She scraped it off her face, shook it off her hands, brushed it from her dress and hair. Around her, the other ladies were waking with similar ablutions.

Aurora's chairs, wardrobe, dressing table, even Anne's abandoned half-finished shawl, were all covered in dust. The windows were covered with rose bushes, so Margaret couldn't see what a century had wrought upon the world outside. On the bed, the other girls were clearing the dust off of Aurora--but Aurora remained fast asleep.

"I don't understand," Celia said, as the hours dragged by with no sign of Aurora's waking. "We're all awake."

"The hundred years has passed," Margaret said. "But the princess has to be woken by a kiss of true love."

"Where's that supposed to come from?" Anne asked. "Any suitors the princess had will be dead and gone by now."

"Maybe one came from this century," Lydia suggested. "It's possible some brave prince grew up with the stories and came to save the sleeping princess."

That seemed as good a theory as any, so after they'd tended to their ragged old dresses as best they could, Celia sat at Aurora's bedside, and Margaret went into the halls with Anne and Lydia, in the hope they could point some wandering prince in the right direction.

The rest of the palace was as dusty and decayed as Aurora's room. Tapestries were moth-eaten. A kitchen's worth of food had decayed to nothing. Suits of armor were covered in rust.

When they found no princes inside, they decided to head outdoors. With all three of them pulling together, the kitchen door came open with a shriek of rusty hinges.

The doorway was completely blocked by a wall of roses and thorns.

Margaret's throat tightened. They had nothing to break through those branches. They were alone in a palace with no food. If Aurora didn't wake soon, they'd all starve.

Looking at their stricken faces, Margaret could see the other girls were coming to the same conclusion.

Then they heard rustling in the branches. The thick wall showed gaps of sunshine. There were flashes of silver, the sound of a man's groans. At last, the branches parted before a blade, and William burst into the kitchen.

His mustache had darkened a bit over the decades, but he still looked as young and dignified as ever. Though his face and hands were bleeding with a thousand scratches, he bowed with his usual courtesy and a hint of a smile. "Good morning, ladies. I trust you slept as well as I did?"

"What's it like out there?" Margaret asked.

"Overgrown," William replied. "The entire palace is covered in roses--a precaution of the fairies, though I'm not certain whether it came from the good or the bad ones."

William cast his gaze across the room, and suddenly became solemn. "Where is the princess?"

"Still asleep," Lydia said, near tears. "It's awful! There's no one to wake her!"

The look of selfless devastation on William's face made everything clear.

"William," Margaret said. "You love the princess."

This unflappable young man blushed and looked at the ground. "It is not my place--"

"You stayed a hundred years for her! Of course you love her!"

"I could never be her true love. I am only a guard--"

"It's been a hundred years! Some other king rules the kingdom. There's no one alive who'd object. You have to kiss her awake!"

William turned white and his jaw fell. "I could never take such liberties!"

Margaret put her hands on her hips. "Look, if Aurora was drowning, you'd jump in to save her, right? Even if it meant touching her without asking permission."

"Naturally."

"This is no different. If you don't try, Aurora will die."

William thought, then bowed. "I will do what I must to serve the princess."

Margaret seized William's hand and led him toward Aurora's tower.

Celia jumped to her feet as they entered the room. Her eyes brightened as she saw the guard.

"William! Have you found the prince?"

Margaret and Lydia pushed William toward the bed. "He's right here," Margaret said.

William stood beside Aurora, looking down into her serene, flawless face. "What if she doesn't welcome such an advance?" he whispered. "How could she care for a man she barely knows?"

Anne said, "Why don't you ask her when she wakes up?"

William bent over Aurora--then stood up. "This might not work."

At once, all four of Aurora's ladies said, "Kiss her!"

Ever so gently, with impossible tenderness, William brushed his lips over Aurora's.

Aurora's eyes opened. "William?" she breathed.

William bowed his head. "Forgive me for taking such liberties, your highness--"

Aurora threw her arms around his neck. "I'm so glad it's you."

Caught in her embrace, William stood flabbergasted.

"Your highness," he said. "Under the circumstances, I do not expect you to return my affection--"

Aurora pushed him away and looked in his face. "How could I not? You stayed true to me when every other man in the world abandoned me."

"You do not know me."

"I know that you stayed. I have a whole new century to get to know everything else." Aurora sat up on the edge of the bed. "If we decide that marriage suits us, I have plenty of bridesmaids."

With laughter, all of Aurora's ladies embraced her in turn, sharing stories about their hundred years of sleep.

Margaret went last, holding Aurora tight.

Aurora said, "I can't thank you enough. All of you, so true. You gave up a whole world for me."

As Margaret looked around the room at Anne laughing over her ruined century-old knitting, at Lydia and Celia teasing William--the women she loved like sisters and a brand-new brother--Margaret felt justified in saying, "If I lost a world, I got a better one in return."

#the bookshelf progresses #fairy tale retellings #sleeping beauty #i came up with this one on a whim #it developed beyond what i intended and probably still isn't developed enough #the ending kind of fizzled out but i hope it's not too embarrassing

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brokehorrorfan · 10 months ago

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6 Things I Learned from the Lisa Frankenstein Commentary

We don’t get movies like Lisa Franeknstein often, which is a shame because it’s endlessly charming yet delightfully twisted. While it disappointed at the box office, it has "cult classic" written all over it.

The coming-of-age horror-comedy is out today on Blu-ray and DVD. Among the special features is an audio commentary by Zelda Williams. Here are 6 things I learned…

1. Catch Me If You Can inspired the opening credit sequence.

The opening credit sequence, which briefly depicts the Creature's love story from his previous life in the style of Victorian shadow box art, was inspired by Catch Me If You Can.

"We wanted to do something interesting with the credits in this bit. I was really inspired by Catch Me If You Can, which I thought the opening credits were particularly interesting and helped establish the story before we ever got to it. And because Creature doesn't speak this whole movie, I wanted an opportunity to show what his life would have been like."

2. The film was originally intended to be rated R.

Although Lisa Frankenstein pushes the PG-13 rating as far as it can go, it was originally intended to be a hard R. Williams cites the party scene, in which Lisa originally smoked a laced joint rather than drinking a PCP cocktail, as a difficult revision.

"This is where stuff got a little complicated when we were going from R-rated to PG-13. Originally there was a coated joint they were passing around. This is one of the only scenes that I'm not sure I'm as fond of in comparison to the joint stuff. Most of the rest of the changes were fine, but this one I find very strange. It's just a very different reaction and interaction than what used to be there. However, these are the things that happen when making a movie."

3. Creature is an homage to Day of the Dead's Bub.

Not only Lisa is seen watching George A. Romero's Day of the Dead in the film, but the Creature is an homage to its iconic zombie, Bub.

"Creature for me is definitely an homage to Buster Keaton, but he's also an homage to the zombie you just saw on screen, Bub, who was in Day of the Dead, a Romero movie that I'm very fond of. It was an incredibly emotive and a very intelligent zombie and ended up getting revenge against the asshole in the movie. It was one of my favorite monsters ever made, so when I could put that on screen during the movie, it made me very happy."

4. Zelda hid a tribute to her father, Robin Williams.

Williams is the daughter of Robin Williams, and she included his 1983 comedy album, Throbbing Python of Love, among the records scattered on the floor in Lisa's living room.

"Oh, there's Dad! We used one of Dad's vinyl albums because we had to scatter some across the floor." She refers to it as "a little, mini Easter Egg for me."

5. The police officers are named after John Waters.

The police officers in the film are Officer John (played by Walker Babington) and Officer Waters (Sylvia Grace Crim) — named on a whim in honor of cult filmmaker, John Waters.

"They asked me to name the cops, because obviously they needed to have name tags, so I named them Officer John and Officer Waters." She thought no one would notice since they're so small, but a viewer pointed it out at a test screening.

6. The film is sprinkled with movie references.

Williams wore her influences on her sleeve with her directorial debut, and she pointed out several references on the commentary:

A Trip to the Moon (clip featured in Lisa's surreal dream sequence)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (stylistic inspiration on the dream sequence)

Weird Science (the party scene)

Suspiria (red lighting during drug sequence)

My Boyfriend's Back (camera shot from inside a grave looking up at characters)

Kill Bill (weapon point-of-view shot)

E.T. (a boy on a bike — played by Diablo Cody's son — at the end)

Notting Hill (reading together on a bench at the end)

Lisa Frankenstein is available now on Blu-ray, DVD, and Digital via Universal.

#lisa frankenstein #zelda williams #diablo cody #kathryn newton #cole sprouse #article #review #dvd #gift #liza soberano #henry eikenberry #joe chrest #carla gugino #horror #horror comedy

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princess-yuna · 8 months ago

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My Dearest: Part 3

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,835

Summary: What a lovely afternoon for a promenade. There is something unusual brewing in the midst.

Content: No use of y/n, reader’s last name is Bennett for fic purposes but feel free to imagine another surname that’s suitable for you, pining, friends turned lovers and a lot of fluff. Reader has a younger sister and an older brother.

A/N: Thank you for sticking with me through another part! I would love to hear feedback from you.

Previous | Next

In addition, gentle reader, there have been sightings of Lord William Brixton returning to the Ton. It was a scandal when he had left Miss Bennett with no proposal during her debut. There have been whispers of him returning to take her hand once more. Are these rumors or the truth of his presence during this season? We will not know until-

The newest edition of Lady Whistledown was plucked out of your hands by your mother. She scowled because she did not want you and your sister to read the words of the rumor-littered paper. You only read it for entertainment, but it intrigued you to read more when you were mentioned. Lord Brixton's return had certainly been a topic of conversation for the Mamas who had wished to pawn their daughters off to the Lord. Yet you knew that each of them had been turned down due to his interest in you.

It was flattering, to say the least, knowing that he had eyes on you. Soon you thought of Colin, your fingers toyed with the dainty jewel hanging from the necklace he had gifted you. A special gift he purchased because he thought of you. Lord Brixton hadn't bestowed you a personal gift such as that but he simply declared that he wished to court you. You told him you would give it thought, and he had respectfully accepted that you needed time after his abrupt departure that started whispers.

Now with his return, you were deemed desirable to your dismay. You did not want the attention when your sister was the one eager to be married while you were fine being unmarried. If only you could be a wallflower much like Penelope Featherington had been. Was, rather. Lady Whistledown had written down information that you were not aware of a certain Bridgerton helping her to find a husband. He was a good friend to her, so you saw nothing wrong with him aiding. However, there were whispers.

Now you walked alongside your mother as your sister was a few paces ahead with one of her many suitors. At the corner of your eye you saw a familiar figure walk your way with a smile that belonged to no other than Colin Bridgerton. When he had approached you and your mother, he nodded his head in greeting. You and your mother acknowledged him with small curtsies in return.

"Lady Bennett, Miss Bennett," Colin greeted, "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes, quite lovely," you replied, a soft smile gracing your lips.

Colin smiled at you before he glanced at your mother, asking her permission to whisk you away momentarily. She waved you both off with her hand before she continued on to chaperone your sister. A simple chuckle rumbled in Colin's chest as he glanced back at you. He offered his arm to you, and you reached out to hold it as he guided you on the path. Your own maid followed paces behind you to keep you chaperoned.

"It pleases me that you are wearing my gift," he commented.

You smiled warmly at him. "I have taken quite a liking to it," you responded. He turned his head to look at you, and you felt his hand pat your hand that rested on his arm. That smile of his made him swoon.

You suddenly grow nervous, your cheeks warmed as you become aware of how close he is to you. Your heart raced in your chest because you knew that Colin wanted more, but he was not voicing that he did. However, you did try to push past that when you had something to ask of him.

"I did not know you were aiding Penelope to find a husband," you then said.

He was taken by surprise, and a nervous chuckle left him. "Ah, so you read about it then," he said as he looked ahead. "That was true. Since I cannot keep anything from you, I have spoken to her before seeking you out. She has put my help on pause to prevent further gossip."

The smile only grew on your face as you pulled him to stop walking so you could look at him. "That is truly admirable, Colin. I do not see that as a negative thing at all for helping Penelope. It shows your brilliant character," you stated.

His gaze lingered on you, and yours on him. You could see the tiniest hint of pink on his cheeks as you complimented him, which made you giggle in return before you gently tugged him along to continue your walk.

He then cleared his throat. "And what of you and Lord Brixton? Has he really returned to seek your hand?" The question made you gently grip his arm a little tighter and it was his turn to pause your walk to look at you. "What is wrong?" His face was now riddled with concern as he looked you over, seeing that distant look on your face.

A soft sigh left you as you looked elsewhere, now avoiding his gaze. "He wishes to court me again, Colin," you admitted to him. You looked at him now and you saw the look of conflict on his face, his gaze not meeting yours. The look made you desperately want to ease his worries. "I told him I would think of it and he granted me as much time as I needed," you told him.

Colin's eyes met yours, and a small look of relief showed on his features. "Ah, I see," he responded, and a small smile went to his lips, "That makes me glad that he is giving you time."

You wanted to reach out to him, but it would have been inappropriate. You wanted to tell him to convey his feelings. Then you remembered what your mother told you, and that was a woman must not beg. The words he wrote on paper were strong indications that he had feelings for you, but he never spoke them out loud. Was he too afraid to admit his feelings out loud to you? He did not realize how much turmoil he put you through, but you hid it with a mask that showed that you were fine when you weren't. All he had to do was ask and you would give him what he wanted.

"Shall we?" He asked, gesturing to the path once more. You give him a timid smile and a nod before you are off again. The conversation was more about his travels because he hadn't told you everything through his letters. As fascinating as his stories were, your heart grew heavy with want when you wished he wasn't talking to you as a friend.

You left the promenade with unanswered questions that afternoon. The longing you had for Colin burned through your body, and he consumed your every thought. Even now as you stood by the refreshment table at the Cowell House, you were too distracted by your thoughts until your name was being called. You glanced at Penelope as she joined you, and you both shared sheepish smiles.

"I did not think you were one for hiding," she said softly.

A soft laugh left your lips and you shook your head. "Is it that obvious? I believe my head is entirely in the clouds this evening," you responded. She was curious, but you revealed nothing to her. Your private matters were your own, and you did not wish for gossip to ignite from possible eavesdroppers. Lady Whistledown had eyes and ears at every event, and you simply did not want to be written about again.

Your conversation with Penelope was light and short until your eyes met Colin's from across the room. He looked at you in the same way you looked at him. It was like time had stopped. Your breathing was heavy and you had to excuse yourself from Penelope in a rush as you broke eye contact. You dared not to look at him again as you walked somewhere else in the room, your eyes were to the floor as you attempted to make an escape.

You've barely made it five steps until you collide with someone. Hands were on your shoulders to steady you so you wouldn't lose balance, a startled expression on your face as you looked up to meet Lord Brixton's concerned gaze. He retracted his hands from your shoulders and placed them to his sides as you curtsied to him with your gaze to the ground. Your cheeks warmed with embarrassment due to not seeing him in the first place.

"My apologies, Lord Brixton," you said quickly.

The sound of his laugh filled your ears and your look turned to confusion as you looked up at him. "Your apology is not needed, Miss Bennett. I was hoping to see you today actually," he stated as he placed his hands behind his back.

"Oh?" You asked curiously, but you were far from interested when you were more concerned about leaving the room. "Whatever for?" Your gaze went past the lord and your eyes were met with Colin's again. You broke eye contact and looked back at the man in front of you, a warm smile on your lips.

His brow rose in question at your response, but you kept your composure. "I wanted to see you again. I know I left your estate giving you time to think things over, and I will still allow that time, but I find myself thinking of you often," he expressed.

If you did not have feelings for a certain Bridgerton, you would have been completely enamored by his words like you have been in the past season. However, you felt nothing but a tinge of guilt as he spoke kind words and you couldn't reciprocate them. You had to fake a smile to continue playing a façade. Your mother would want you to be with someone like Lord Brixton, but he was not what your heart yearned for.

"That is quite flattering, Lord Brixton," you said. Suddenly you felt more aware of your surroundings when you felt eyes on you. "Unfortunately, I am feeling unwell, and I wish to go home," you told him.

"Oh, that's too bad. Shall I escort you out?" He did not look pleased, but he was not going to push. You knew him to be too much of a gentleman to push something unwanted on you.

"No, it is fine, I can manage on my own," you replied and gave a weak smile, "I will see you again, Lord Brixton. Have a good evening." You gave him a curtsy before you walked off. You tried not to walk too fast as you kept moving through the crowd while avoiding certain glances. Just like that, you were gone from the Cowell House.

What you didn't see was that Colin Bridgerton was watching your escape, and there was a triumphant look on his face when he looked back to Lord Brixton looking puzzled.

#colin bridgerton fanfiction #colin bridgerton fanfic #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x you #bridgerton fanfiction

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kckt88 · 3 months ago

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Scorched Hearts V.

Summary:

'My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep, the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite' - William Shakespeare (Romeo & Juliet).

Aemond and Valaena arrive at Storms End and the dragons begin their dance with devestating concequnces for both the Blacks and Greens.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Language, Secret Relationship, Funeral, Grief, Mild Threats, Mild Violence, Dragon Battle, Death.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 5079

A.N - Don't hate me, things must be this way for a reason!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Valaena stood next to her brothers, Jace and Luke, her eyes fixed on the pyre where her little sister, Visenya, was being laid to rest.

The crackling flames illuminated Rhaenyra and Daemon as they stood at the head of the pyre, their hands joined in silent farewell to their daughter. All around them, heads were bowed in respect, the weight of grief heavy on the air.

Valaena could feel the cut on her palm sting as she pressed her hand to her stomach.

As she watched her mother and Daemon, Valaena wondered if what she was about to do was too cruel, to subject her mother to yet more pain.

But there really was no other way, Aemond was right there was only one way for them to be together now.

As the final words of mourning were whispered, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the sombre silence. Valaena furrowed her brow and turned, watching as Ser Erryk stepped forward.

He stopped behind Rhaenyra, reaching into his bag and pulling out a gleaming golden crown—that once belonged to King Viserys. He knelt, holding it up with reverence, his voice steady as he swore his loyalty.

“I swear to ward the Queen, with all my strength and give my blood for hers. I shall take no wife hold no lands and father no children.”

Daemon stepped forward, taking the crown from Ser Erryk’s hands. He turned to Rhaenyra, his face filled with fierce devotion.

With a deliberate motion, he placed the crown upon her head, then bent his knee before her, his voice ringing out loud and clear. “My queen.”

The words seemed to resonate through the gathered crowd, and Valaena, Jace, and Luke immediately bent their knees.

Soon, everyone in attendance followed suit, paying homage to Rhaenyra and acknowledging her as their Queen.

After the funeral, the gathering made their way back inside Dragonstone. The heavy doors of the hall closed behind them, and Daemon stepped forward, announcing Rhaenyra to the assembled lords and knights.

“Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm.”

Rhaenyra, now wearing her father’s crown, approached the painted table with determination. “What is our standing?” she asked, her voice sharp and commanding.

Daemon stood beside her. “We have 30 knights, a hundred crossbowmen, and 300 men-at-arms. Dragonstone is relatively easy to defend, but as an instrument of conquest, our army leaves much to be desired. We have sent word to my loyal men in the City Watch. I’ll have some support there, but I cannot speak to the numbers.”

Valaena stepped forward. “You already have declarations from Celtigar, Staunton, Massey, Darklyn, and Bar Emmon.”

Rhaenyra nodded, acknowledging her daughter’s support. “My lady mother was an Arryn. The Vale will not turn cloak against their own kin.”

Maester Gerardys spoke up. “Riverrun was always a close friend to your father, Your Grace. With Prince Daemon’s acquiescence, I’ve already sent ravens to Lord Grover.”

Rhaenyra’s expression tightened. “Lord Grover is fickle and easily swayed. He will need to be convinced of the strength of our position and that we will support him should it come to war.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed. “I’m going to treat with him myself.”

As the discussions continued, Steffon Darklyn stepped forward. “What about Winterfell and Storm’s End?”

At the mention of Storm’s End, Valaena felt her stomach churn. She tried to steady herself, taking slow, deep breaths to keep from being overtaken by the wave of nausea. But the feeling of unease persisted.

Lord Bartimos stepped forward. “With House Stark, the rest of the North will follow. But perhaps an offer of marriage will convince Lord Stark to declare for the Queen.”

Rhaenyra turned to him, her brow furrowing. “Whose hand do you suggest I offer, my lord?”

Bartimos glanced towards Valaena. “Princess Valaena, Your Grace. She is your heir, and a match between her and Lord Stark would be most beneficial.”

Valaena’s hand instinctively went to the cut on her palm, a reminder of the bond she had forged with Aemond the night before.

She traced the mark lightly with her fingertips, remembering his words, his vow to her. Her heart raced in her chest, but she forced herself to take a deep breath.

"I will agree to the match, mother," she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Rhaenyra studied her daughter, searching her face for any sign of hesitation. “Are you sure?”

Valaena nodded, her eyes flickering to the painted table. “Yes. I will do what I must in order to support my queen.”

Rhaenyra’s expression softened with pride, and she gave a short nod before turning her attention to other matters.

“And our enemies?”

Daemon’s face darkened. “We have no friends among the Lannisters. Tyland has served the Hand too long to turn against him. And Otto Hightower needs the Lannister fleet.”

Valaena, still feeling sick, forced herself to refocus on the discussion. “Without the Lannisters, you are not likely to find any allies west of the Golden Tooth.”

An older lord stepped forward, his voice blunt but respectful. “Pray forgive my bluntness, Your Grace, but talk of men is moot. Your cause owns a power that has not been seen in this world since the days of Old Valyria. Dragons.”

Rhaenyra’s expression tightened. “The Greens have dragons as well.”

Jace added, “Three adults.”

Daemon’s smirk returned. “We have Syrax, Caraxes, and Meleys. Your oldest children have Silverwing, Vermax, and Arrax. Baela has Moondancer.”

Rhaenyra sighed. “Daemon, none of our dragons have been to war.”

“We need a place to gather,” Daemon replied, eyes gleaming with ambition. “A toehold large enough to house a sizable host. Here, at Harrenhal. We cut off the west, surround King’s Landing with the dragons. And we could have every Green head mounted on spikes before the fucking moon turns.”

Just then, Ser Erryk stepped forward, interrupting the conversation. “Your Grace a ship has been sighted offshore: a lone galleon, flying a banner of a three-headed green dragon.”

Daemon charged past Rhaenyra, barking orders. “Alert the watchtowers. Sight the skies.”

Rhaenyra followed him quickly, but Valaena remained behind, standing with Jace, Luke, and the other lords.

A wave of sickness washed over her once more, and she had to take several deep breaths to keep from vomiting.

As she steadied herself, she noticed Rhaenys watching her closely, a curious look on her face.

Valaena quickly turned her attention to Luke, who was fiddling with one of the dragon figurines on the painted table.

A heavy tension filled the room as Daemon and Rhaenyra returned, their expressions grim. Daemon was the first to speak, his voice laced with frustration. “The simple truth is this: we have more dragons than Aegon.”

Rhaenyra, however, looked unsettled as she added, “I do not wish to rule over a kingdom of ash and bone.”

Valaena, standing with her brothers and the gathered lords, stepped forward, her brow furrowed. “Were terms delivered?”

Rhaenyra nodded, her face betraying no emotion. “If I acknowledge Aegon as king and swear obeisance before the Iron Throne, in exchange, he will confirm my possession of Dragonstone. It will pass to you, my trueborn daughter, upon my death. Jacaerys will be confirmed as the legitimate heir to Driftmark and all the lands and holdings of House Velaryon. My sons, Lucerys, Aegon, and Viserys, will also be given places of high honour at court. And the King, in his good grace, will pardon any knight or lord who conspired against his ascent.”

Valaena’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. Everything Aemond had told her the night before was true.

The offer was generous, but the underlying manipulation was unmistakable. She glanced briefly at Daemon, whose face darkened with anger.

“It’s a farce,” Daemon scoffed, his voice cutting through the room. “Offering you that which you already possess, and I would rather feed all of our children to the dragons before I bend the knee to that drunken usurper cunt of a king-”

Rhaenyra ignored his biting tone, her gaze unwavering. “As Queen, what is my true duty to the realm, Lord Bartimos? Ensuring peace and unity? Or that I sit the Iron Throne, no matter the cost?”

Before Lord Bartimos could respond, Daemon interjected, his voice sharp. “That’s your father talking.”

Rhaenyra’s expression hardened. “My father is dead. And he chose me as his successor-to defend the realm, not cast it headlong into war.”

Daemon’s eyes flashed with fire. “Well, the enemy has already declared war. What are you going to do about it?”

Before the argument could escalate further, Valaena stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “That is enough. This back and forth is getting us nowhere. The most important thing now is for you to establish who your allies are.”

Just as the tension in the room seemed ready to boil over, a familiar voice broke through. “Quite right, Princess.”

All eyes turned to see Lord Corlys Velaryon, hobbling into the room, leaning on a wooden cane. His weathered face showed signs of recent illness, but his presence was commanding as ever.

Rhaenyra’s face softened with relief. “Lord Corlys, it brings much relief to see you hale and healthy again.”

Corlys cast a glance at the painted table, surveying the situation. “Your declared allies? Too few to win a war for the throne.”

Rhaenyra remained steadfast. “We would also hope to have the support of Houses Arryn, Baratheon, and Stark.”

Corlys raised a sceptical brow. “Hope is the fool’s ally.”

Rhaenyra’s voice grew resolute. “Both Arryn and Baratheon share blood with my house. But all of them swore oaths to me, and soon terms will be delivered to Cregan Stark, offering him a marriage with Valaena in exchange for his support.”

At the mention of her name, Valaena stiffened, but she kept her expression neutral. She had already agreed to the match, but hearing it spoken aloud brought a fresh wave of dread.

Corlys nodded approvingly. “You have the full support of our fleet and house. But what would be more beneficial is a total blockade of the shipping lanes. If we seal the Gullet, we can cut off all seaborne travel and trade to King’s Landing.”

Lord Bartimos added, “When we drain the Narrow Sea, we can surround King’s Landing, lay siege to the Red Keep, and force the Greens’ surrender.”

Daemon’s eyes gleamed with ambition. “If we are to have enough swords to surround King’s Landing, you must first secure the support of Winterfell, the Eyrie, and Storm’s End.”

Maester Gerardys stepped forward, nodding. “I’ll prepare the ravens, Your Grace.”

Jacaerys, always eager to prove himself, stepped forward. “Send us. We should bear those messages ourselves. Dragons fly faster than ravens.”

Rhaenyra considered her son’s words, then nodded in agreement. “Very well. Prince Jacaerys will fly north, to treat with Lord Cregan Stark for the support of the North. Prince Lucerys will go to the Eyrie to see my mother’s cousin, Lady Jeyne Arryn-”

Valaena remembering Aemond’s words, stepped forward and said “-I will fly south to Storm’s End and treat with Lord Borros Baratheon.”

Rhaenyra smiled and nodded “We must remind these lords of the oaths they swore. And the cost of breaking them.”

Valaena stood before the mirror as she worked through the final braid in her dark hair, each strand meticulously woven to stay in place during the flight.

She dressed herself in her riding leathers, the familiar feel of the well-worn material bringing a small comfort amid the tension.

Fastening the chain that secured her red dragon-scale patterned cloak across her chest, she pulled on her gloves, the last barrier between her and the journey ahead.

With a slow breath, she let her eyes drift to her reflection. Her gaze settled on her stomach, her gloved hand hovering there as she closed her eyes, whispering a silent prayer that what she was about to do was right.

Her heart felt heavy with more than just the weight of her mission; it carried secrets, promises, and a growing sense of duty.

A knock on the door startled her from her thoughts. "It's time, Princess," a maid called softly from the hallway.

"I'm coming," Valaena replied. She took one final look around her chambers, a place of comfort and warmth, but now filled with uncertainty.

With a steadying breath, she turned and walked out, her footsteps echoing as she joined her mother and brothers on the balcony just off the grand hall.

Rhaenyra stood tall, her expression both resolute and weary.

As Valaena approached, her mother began to speak, her voice commanding yet tender. "It’s been said that as Targaryen’s, we are closer to gods than to men. And the Iron Throne puts us a touch closer, perhaps. But if we are to serve the Seven Kingdoms-we must answer to their gods."

Rhaenyra’s gaze swept across her children. "If you take this errand, you go as messengers not as warriors. You must take no part in any fighting. Swear it to me now under the eyes of the Seven."

Two servants stepped forward, carrying an enormous holy book emblazoned with the seven-pointed star. Valaena, Jace, and Luke each placed their hands on the ancient tome.

"I swear it," they said in unison, their voices mingling with the heavy air of responsibility that lingered over them.

Rhaenyra handed Jace a rolled-up piece of parchment. "Cregan Stark is closer to your age than he is to mine. I would hope, that as men, you can find some common interest. But I do hope you get a sense of the man to whom I offer your sister’s hand." Jace accepted the scroll with a nod, replying, "Yes, Your Grace."

Next, Rhaenyra turned to Luke, giving him another scroll. "Lady Jeyne Arryn is our kin. I expect you to receive a warm welcome but be mindful of others seeking her favour."

Luke took the scroll from her, his young face serious. "Yes, mother—Your Grace."

Finally, Rhaenyra faced Valaena. "Storm's End is just a short flight from here. Lord Borros is an eternally proud man. He will be honoured to host a princess of the realm and her dragon."

Valaena accepted her own scroll, bowing her head. "Yes, Your Grace."

"Go to it, then," Rhaenyra said, her voice firm, but there was a softness in her eyes.

Valaena turned to leave, but something pulled her back. She spun around, quickly closing the distance between them, and wrapped her arms around her mother in a tight embrace.

"Avy jorrāelan, muña," she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion (I love you mother).

Rhaenyra chuckled softly, returning the embrace. "You're squeezing me too tightly, sweet girl."

Valaena pulled back, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Sorry," she murmured, trying to compose herself.

Rhaenyra placed a gentle hand on her daughter's cheek, searching her face. "Is everything alright?"

Valaena nodded quickly, though her body betrayed her as her hands trembled. "Everything is fine."

Rhaenyra frowned slightly. "You're shaking. If you do not wish to journey to Storm’s End—"

"I must go," Valaena interrupted, her voice firm. "I will do my duty to my queen."

Rhaenyra pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, lingering for a moment as if to pass on strength through the gesture. Valaena gave a weak smile before stepping back.

She turned to Jace, hugging him tightly. "Naejot se hūra se arlī lēkia," she whispered, their bond unspoken yet ever strong (To the moon and back brother).

Jace squeezed her hand in return, his expression sombre. "And to you, sister."

Next, she approached Luke, pulling him into her arms. She removed one of the beaded bracelets she wore and fastened it around his wrist.

"Naejot gaomagon ao ȳgha," she said softly, her voice full of affection. (To keep you safe).

Luke glanced down at the bracelet, his eyes wide with surprise and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered.

Valaena gave him one last smile before stepping away, her heart heavy as she looked at her mother one last time, committing her face to memory.

Then without another word, she turned and descended the steps leading to the caverns where Silverwing awaited her.

Her pulse quickened with each step she took, her heart pounding against her chest as the cool air of the caverns greeted her. The sound of Silverwing shifting in her lair echoed in the distance

Valaena approached Silverwing, her dragon’s presence filling the cavern with a sense of calm and strength.

She ran her hand along the familiar, warm silver scales, the ridges rough beneath her fingers. “Zȳha jēda,” she whispered softly (It’s time).

Silverwing responded with a determined trill, her eyes glinting in the dim light of the cavern.

Without hesitation, she lowered her massive shoulder, allowing Valaena to climb up and into the saddle.

The motion was second nature now strapping herself in, she tightened her grip on the reins, her heart steady but her mind swirling.

"Sōves," she commanded, her voice strong, and with that, Silverwing lumbered out of the cavern, the ground shaking slightly beneath the dragon’s weight. (Fly).

The cool sea air hit them as they emerged, Silverwing spreading her great wings wide and pushing off the rocky outcrop with a powerful beat.

The rush of air roared in Valaena’s ears as they ascended, circling high above Dragonstone. The island's jagged cliffs and the roiling seas below looked small from their height.

The dark clouds and distant thunder mirrored the tension she felt in her chest.

Soon, she was joined by Jace on Vermax and Luke on Arrax on either side of her, their dragons majestic as they cut through the skies.

They were soon followed by Rhaenys on Meleys. Together, the four dragons flew in formation, their powerful wings moving in synchronized rhythm, the sound like distant thunder.

Valaena cast a glance at Jace and Luke, their figures resolute upon their dragons. Her heart clenched.

Let them be victorious, let them be safe.

One by one, they began to break off. Rhaenys on Meleys peeled away first, banking sharply to the east to patrol the Gullet.

Then Jace and Luke turned their dragons north. Valaena’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, knowing how important his mission was.

Valaena turned in her saddle, watching her brothers until they became distant specks against the horizon.

She whispered another prayer under her breath, hoping they would succeed in their tasks—and return unharmed.

With a deep breath, she refocused her mind. There was still much to do. Her own destination awaited, and Lord Borros Baratheon would not be an easy man to sway.

Aemond’s words from the night before echoed in her mind, his voice a low hum as she remembered the plan.

"You can do this” she whispered to herself.

Silverwing responded, her wings beating faster as they adjusted their course southward.

Valaena leaned forward, her eyes fixed ahead, as Dragonstone disappeared behind her.

The rain fell in sheets as Silverwing descended toward Storm’s End, her massive wings slicing through the storm-laden sky.

Valaena’s heart pounded in her chest as the dragon landed with a heavy thud, the ground trembling beneath her. She dismounted quickly, her boots splashing in the mud.

As her feet touched the ground, she reached out, running her hand along Silverwing’s warm, familiar scales.

The heat radiating from her dragon comforted her, the low, contented rumble from Silverwing reminding her she wasn’t alone.

But then, a deeper, more menacing growl echoed across the courtyard. Valaena froze. Her heart skipped a beat, and she slowly turned, her breath catching in her throat.

Vhagar.

The monstrous dragon loomed behind the castle walls, her hulking form visible even through the sheets of rain. If Vhagar was here, that could only mean one thing—Aemond was here, and everything was going according to his plan.

Valaena swallowed hard, her stomach knotting with anticipation and dread. She steeled herself, pushing away the swirl of emotions clawing at her insides. She could not afford to falter now.

The knights of Storm’s End approached her, their armour clinking softly as they trudged through the rain.

“I am Princess Valaena Velaryon, and I have a message for Lord Borros Baratheon, on behalf of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

The knight studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Come. Lord Borros Baratheon waits in the Great Hall."

Valaena cast a final glance back at Silverwing, before following the knights into the castle. The courtyard blurred around her as the rain soaked through her cloak and riding leathers.

The heavy wooden doors of Storm’s End slammed shut behind them with a resounding thud.

Inside, the Great Hall was dimly lit, the flickering torches casting long shadows across the stone walls.

Lord Borros sat on his makeshift throne, his figure round and imposing, his eyes sharp as they landed on the drenched princess before him.

“Princess Valaena of House Velaryon,” a herald announced, and all eyes in the hall turned toward her.

Her gaze shifted toward the side of the hall, where Aemond stood, his posture relaxed, his hands clasped behind his back.

He was speaking with one of Borros’s daughters, a striking young woman with dark hair and sharp eyes, who seemed completely captivated by him.

Valaena’s stomach churned with jealousy and anger—how dare that Baratheon bitch look at Aemond in such a way, he was her husband, and she was carrying his child.

Valaena took a deep breath and ignored the urge to go over there and slit that bitch from ear to ear, for even daring to look at Aemond in such a manner.

“Lord Borros, I have brought you a message from my mother—the Queen,” she said, her voice steady despite the storm brewing within her.

Borros chuckled, his voice booming through the hall. “Yet earlier today, I received an envoy from the King. Which is it—King or Queen? The House of the Dragon doesn’t seem to know who rules it!” His laughter was coarse, echoing in the dim hall.

Valaena glanced at Aemond, who smirked at her with a tilt of his head, clearly enjoying the spectacle.

Borros grew impatient. “Well, then. What’s your mother’s message?”

Valaena handed the scroll to one of the knights, who quickly passed it to Borros. The Lord of Storm’s End squinted at the parchment, frowning. He summoned a Maester to read the letter aloud.

As the Maester relayed Rhaenyra’s message, Valaena could feel Aemond’s eye burning into her, though she refused to look at him.

Her clothes were soaked through, and she stood in a small puddle of rainwater, feeling the weight of every gaze in the hall.

Once the Maester finished, Borros leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. “Remind me of my father’s oath. King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact. If I do as your mother bids, which of my daughters will your brothers wed?”

Valaena hesitated before answering. “My lord, I am afraid that only two of my brothers are of age, and neither is free to marry. They are already betrothed.”

Borros frowned, clearly unsatisfied. “And what of you, Princess?”

Her breath caught in her throat. "Me, my lord?"

Borros leaned forward, his interest piqued. “I no longer have a wife. You are of age to marry and, if you are anything like your mother, I am sure you will give me many sons.”

Valaena’s heart hammered in her chest, and she risked a glance at Aemond. His jaw clenched tightly, and his hand now rested on the pommel of his sword, his face a mask of barely contained fury at the Lord audacity.

“My lord, I am not free to marry either,” Valaena said, her voice firm. “My brother flies north to offer my hand in marriage to Lord Cregan Stark of Winterfell.”

The hall fell silent. Aemond’s eye narrowed, his grip on his sword tightening. The Baratheon girl beside him looked perplexed, but Aemond paid her no mind.

His rage was palpable, radiating from him like a storm, his wife had just declared she had been betrothed to that northern dog.

Aemond had to force himself to calm down, they had a plan, and he had to stick to it, he couldn't let his possessiveness over Valaena ruin what they had practised.

Borros scoffed. “Then you come with empty hands. Tell your mother the Lord of Storm’s End is not some dog she can whistle up at need.”

Valaena dipped her head in a polite bow. “I will take your answer to the Queen.”

As she turned to leave, the wind howled outside, and the storm raged even harder. But before she could take a step, Aemond’s voice cut through the hall like a blade. “Wait, my lady Strong.”

Valaena froze, her heart pounding.

“Did you really think you could fly about the realm, stealing my brother’s throne, without paying the cost?”

She turned to face him, her heart pounding. “I will not fight you,” she said. “I came as a messenger, not a warrior.”

Aemond laughed, withdrawing a dagger from his belt and tossing it at her feet. “Fight would be little challenge. No, I want you to put out your eye. As payment for the one your bastard brother carved from my skull.”

Valaena’s voice was cold, unyielding. “It is not my debt to pay, besides I thought your claim of Vhagar was worth the loss of an eye, you yourself declared it was a fair exchange. Or is your hoary old bitch of a dragon no longer worth it?”

Aemond’s smirk faded. His face twisted with faux anger, her words cutting deep. “You dare speak of Vhagar that way?” he hissed. “You know nothing of what it means to command the largest dragon in the world-”

“Oh, I know a thing or two about dragons,” Valaena retorted. “Do you truly believe Vhagar could withstand a combined attack from Silverwing, Caraxes, and Meleys? She may be the largest, but even she is not invincible.”

Aemond simply stared at her, his expression unreadable as he processed her words.

"-You always seem so eager to remind everyone how large Vhagar is," said Vaelyssa, a sly smile playing on her lips. "-One might wonder if you're trying to overcompensate for other-smaller matters-"

Borros Baratheon’s other daughters who were huddled together beside their father clasped their hands to their mouths and let out a melodious giggle that echoed around the hall, the intent behind Valaena’s comment clear for all to understand.

Aemond charged toward her, picking up the dagger. “Give me your eye, or I will take it bastard!”

Before he could close the distance, Lord Borros quickly rose from his throne. “Not in my hall!” he roared.

Aemond came to a sudden halt, breathing heavily, his eye locked on Valaena.

“-The girl came as an envoy. I’ll not have bloodshed beneath my roof. Take Princess Valaena back to her dragon. Now”

Valaena was then surrounded by guards and as she cast Aemond a look and she saw him nod sharply and mouth a single word—go.

She nodded back before she turned and followed the guards out into the storm and back to Silverwing.

Then without a word, Aemond stormed out of the hall, his boots echoing off the stone floor with each purposeful step.

Lord Borros called out after him, his voice reverberating through the chamber, "Prince Aemond, wait!"

Aemond didn’t stop. His jaw clenched as he pushed past the guards and courtiers that crowded the entrance of Storm’s End, his mind singularly focused.

He wasn’t interested in what Borros had to say. His thoughts were consumed by Valaena and their plan.

Valaena rushed through the storm, her boots slipping slightly on the rain-soaked stones as she reached Silverwing.

Her hands found the dragon’s warm, wet scales, and she pressed her palms against them, feeling the steady rhythm of her companion’s breath.

“Dokimarvose, Silverwing,” Valaena murmured urgently, her voice barely audible over the howling wind. “Lykirī se Rȳbās, tāemītsos naejot se kȳvanon.” (Focus, be calm and listen. Stick to the plan).

Silverwing let out a soft trill, her massive body shifting slightly as if to acknowledge the words. Valaena quickly climbed into the saddle, the leather straps slippery beneath her fingers. She fastened herself in, securing the reins tightly in her gloved hands.

With a deep breath, she shouted, “Sōves!” (Fly!)

Silverwing spread her wings and launched into the sky with powerful strokes, the wind and rain battering them as they ascended through the storm.

Valaena clenched her jaw against the force of the gale, her heart pounding in her chest. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the swirling clouds as they climbed higher and higher.

But then, a roar echoed through the storm, deep and earth-shaking. Valaena twisted in her saddle.

Through the thick clouds, she saw the hulking form of Vhagar chasing after them.

Tugging on the reins, she leaned hard to the left and shouted, “Aderī, Silverwing! Elēnās geptot!” (Quickly, bank left!)

Silverwing responded instantly, banking sharply to the left, her wings slicing through the rain. But Vhagar followed with terrifying persistence.

“Embrot!” Valaena shouted next, her voice straining against the wind. (Down!)

Silverwing tucked her wings tight against her body and dove sharply, cutting through the clouds like a blade.

The sudden dive gave them a burst of speed, and Vhagar, being as large as she was, couldn’t move as swiftly. Valaena glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see the growing distance between them.

The time had come to carry out Aemond’s plan, the only way they could be together, she just hoped her mother in time would understand why this had to happen.

Valaena tugged on the reins and commanded, “Pālegon!” (Turn!)

Silverwing arched through the air, twisting around to face Vhagar once more. The massive dragon loomed ahead, her wings spread wide, dark against the stormy sky.

Valaena braced herself, quickly hooking the spare strap from her saddle to her waist, making sure it was secure.

She reached for the chain that held her dragon-scaled cloak in place, tearing it from her shoulders and letting it fly off into the wind, the heavy fabric disappearing into the storm.

“Gīda, Silverwing” Valaena whispered, her voice calm despite the pounding of her heart. (Steady.)

Silverwing steadied her flight as they closed in on Vhagar, the two dragons hovering in the sky, locked in a face-off.

Rain poured down in torrents, streaking across Valaena’s face, but she ignored it, her eyes fixed on Aemond.

He was there, atop Vhagar, as he raised his voice and yelled, “Drakarys!”

The word reverberated through the air, and flames erupted from Vhagar’s massive jaws, a torrent of fire rushing toward them.

But Valaena was ready as she shouted with all her might, “Drakarys!”

Silverwing answered her call, unleashing a blaze of fire in return. The two dragons’ flames met in the air, clashing in a violent explosion of heat and light.

The storm around them was momentarily drowned out by the roar of the fire, illuminating the dark sky as the two mighty beasts faced each other

TBC

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond x oc #aemond #prince aemond #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #prince aemond targaryen

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bethanydelleman · 1 year ago

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New Year's Resolutions for Jane Austen Characters (mid-novel)

Emma Woodhouse: Find a new man for Harriet Smith No more matchmaking! Admit Knightley (and his brother) were right. Meet Frank Churchill, finally.

George Knightley: Just feeling thankful for everything I have. I don't think my life needs to change.

Mr. Woodhouse: Finally convince Isabella to live at Hartfield instead of with her husband. Poor Isabella!

Harriet Smith: Marry Mr. Elton 💗💗💗 *unable to read tear-stained writing*

John Knightley: Spend more time at home with my beloved wife. Why do people invite us places???

Elinor Dashwood: Find a way to get over the most perfect man I've ever met.

Edward Ferrars: Find an honourable way to get out of the engagement with Lucy (same resolution he's had for three years now)

Robert Ferrars: Build a magnificent cottage

Marianne Dashwood: Marry the most perfect man to grace this earth with his beautiful presence, John Willoughby. Also, read more poetry.

Colonel Brandon: *stares at the paper in despair because he cannot bear to give form to his ambitions which seem already impossible*

Elizabeth Bennet: I don't really think there's anything I need to improve about myself. I'm really a great judge of character.

Fitzwilliam Darcy: Remember that duty comes before ephemeral feelings of affection.

Jane Bennet: Find a way to get over the most perfect man I've ever met.

Charles Bingley: Buy an estate (resolution submitted by Caroline & Louisa)

Caroline Bingley: Encourage Charles to finally buy an estate (not in Hertfordshire), get Charles and Georgiana Darcy engaged, get engaged to Mr. Darcy, attend a party with at least three members of the nobility... (too many goals to record here)

Mrs. Bennet: MARRY OFF AT LEAST ONE OF THESE DARN DAUGHTERS

Anne Elliot: find a way to be less awkward around Captain Wentworth... Prepare myself for Captain Wentworth to marry Louisa... Try to endure Bath with a smile

Captain Wentworth: Get out of the obligation to marry Louisa Musgrove by any fair means. PLEASE GOD I AM BEGGING YOU

Captain Benwick: Mourn Fanny for eternity Marry Louisa Musgrove

Catherine Morland: Henry Tilney 💗💗💗💗 Henry Tilney, Northanger Abbey 💗💗💗💗 Henry Tilney & Mrs. Catherine Tilney 💗💗💗 *doodles ideas for wedding gowns*

Eleanor Tilney: Marry the love of my life (same goal for the past three years)

Henry Tilney: Keep being awesome

Frederick Tilney: Keep being awesome

General Tilney: Have all my children disposed in marriage to wealthy individuals (goal since Frederick turned 21)

Mrs. Allen: Purchase some very fine lace

Fanny Price: marry edmund Be as unnoticed as possible

Edmund Bertram: Marry Miss Crawford

Mary Crawford: Marry Edmund Bertram

Henry Crawford: Promote William Price, marry Fanny Price. Rub my excellent treatment of Fanny in the Bertram's faces.

Tom Bertram: *never wrote anything down, never does his years are always awesome*

Mr. Yates: Finally put on a production of Lovers' Vows third times the charm!

Mrs. Norris: Save more money than last year by furthering economy. Keep Fanny in her place. Become more necessary to the Bertrams.

Lady Bertram: sew a cute little jacket for Pug

Lady Susan: Keep being the best Gaslight Girlboss *kisses paper*

(if Christmas happened within novel, I tried to place the resolutions around it. If not, I made up a time)

#new year's resolution #happy new year!#jane austen #mansfield park #pride and prejudice #northanger abbey #sense and sensibility #emma #persuasion #lady susan

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poisonlove · 1 year ago

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The Princess and the Huntress | Jenna Ortega

y/n, a 19-year-old impoverished hunter, works alongside her father for the royal court, delivering game supplies to the king's kitchen. One day, while carrying out their routine duties at the royal court, y/n witnesses someone she shouldn't have – Jenna, a princess from the Ortega dynasty. Due to her captivating beauty, the king and queen wish to shield her from prying eyes, as she is destined to marry the duke of the neighboring realm to end the ongoing war and ensure lasting peace.

Disclaimer: Story set in the 1600s.

I close one eye to aim carefully, pointing the bow towards a rabbit timidly passing through those parts of the woods. A thin ray of sunlight filters through the branches, illuminating its thick gray fur. I breathe deeply, seeking the necessary concentration, feeling the warmth of the bow's wood in my hands.

The arrow is released, cutting through the silent air as it follows its trajectory towards the rabbit. A moment of anxiety dissolves into my smile when I see that I've hit it dead-on. The small animal lowers itself, and the forest seems to whisper my success.

An instant of gratification unfolds in my heart, a connection with nature and the mastery of hunting that has set my spirit free. I am Y/N, the huntress, and the forest is my kingdom.

I approach the rabbit slowly, smiling contentedly as I take it by the ears and carefully remove the arrow from its small body. The soft fur slides between my fingers, while the forest around seems to celebrate my fortunate hunt.

My gaze meets that of my father, who had approached silently. His proud smile reveals the joy of seeing his daughter demonstrate skill in hunting.

"Well done, Y/N," my father says, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You have incredible precision. The royal court will be grateful for this."

"I hope so, father," I reply humbly as we continue to prepare the prey. "This rabbit will be an excellent addition to the king's dinner."

Together, we look at the result of my hunt, a moment of connection between us and our mission at court. The forest guarding our secret and our skill.

"Y/N," my father says, handing me the rabbit to take it to the castle, "I'll head home and prepare our dinner. In the meantime, deliver the game to the royal court and make sure to ask for at least three gold coins as compensation. Our skill deserves proper recognition."

"I will, father," I respond with gratitude, accepting the load. "Thank you for teaching me the art of hunting and diplomacy."

My father smiles, placing a hand on my shoulder. "It's not just hunting you need to learn, Y/N. In the royal court, social skills are equally crucial. Go, and always remember who you are."

With a nod of agreement, I walk away, carrying not only the weight of the rabbit and the game but also my father's legacy. The forest has bestowed its blessing upon us, and now our task is to deliver the fruits of the hunt to the royal court.

I approached the majestic castle door. Turning to one of the guards, I asked if they knew where the game supplier was. "Have you happened to see William?" I inquired with a slight hint of curiosity.

The guard vaguely pointed down the hallway, but before providing a more precise answer, I followed my instincts and ventured into the heart of the castle. Walking through the silent corridors, tension grew in my chest.

While searching for William, I was drawn to a partially open door. Curious, I peered inside, and the scene that unfolded left me speechless: a girl seated by the window, immersed in reading a book. It was Jenna, the princess I had heard about but doubted her existence. However, I wasn't captivated by the legend of the king's daughter trapped in a golden prison but by the beauty she exuded.

Jenna was a vision of grace by the window, dark hair cascading softly over her shoulders. The room's soft light gently caressed her skin, highlighting her sparkling eyes, deep as wells of secrets. She wore a dress in delicate tones, snug to her form yet exuding an air of regal elegance.

The book in her hands seemed to be just an accessory for her, a portal to unknown worlds unfolding in the pages under the princess's attentive gaze. Slightly parted lips reflected an air of tranquility, as if she herself were a character stepping out of one of the stories she loved to read.

I accidentally kicked the door, catching her attention.

Our gazes locked, and a moment of intense connection unfolded between us. "Who are you?" Jenna asked, lifting her gaze from the book, while I, distracted,

"I'm Y/N, the huntress," I replied with a nervous smile.

Jenna raised an eyebrow slightly, a peculiar, dancing smile on her lips. "And what brings a huntress to my room?" she asked curiously, the book now closed in her hands.

I looked around, noting the richness of the furnishings, but my answer was genuine. "I was looking for William, the game supplier. I stumbled upon this room by chance."

Jenna chuckled slightly, the sound like a delicate melody in the air. "William isn't here, but I'm curious to know what would prompt a huntress to enter without knocking."

My gaze wandered, and I noticed the canopy bed in the center of the room, a masterpiece of dark wood and fine fabric. "It's a splendid room," I commented inadvertently, admiring the opulence of the place.

Jenna smiled, perhaps noticing my awe. "Thank you... it's a regular room," the brunette shrugged, and I looked at her with a smile on my lips. "Well... I wish mine were like this," I muttered, and Jenna smiled knowingly.

I noticed the book in Jenna's hands and, intrigued, asked, "What book is that?"

The princess lifted the volume with a mysterious smile. "It's 'The Prince' by Niccolò Machiavelli," she said, indicating the worn cover.

"Machiavelli," I repeated the name even though I wasn't quite sure who he was.

Jenna smiled and said, "Do you know Machiavelli?"

"Of course!" I responded with a smile, although I was actually lying.

"Oh, I'm surprised!" Jenna exclaimed amused. "What do you think of his work?"

Trying to maintain my charade, I replied with a thoughtful expression, "He's a profound author, undoubtedly with much wisdom to share."

Jenna laughed slightly, and the sound filled the room. "Interesting choice of words. Not many share this opinion on Machiavelli."

"It seems you're trying to hide something, Y/N. Do you really know who Machiavelli is?" I blush weakly, confessing my weakness. "Actually, no. I can't read." Jenna's smile widened, but there was no judgment in her eyes. "You don't need to hide anything here. Not everyone is a reader." Jenna smiled gently.

Noticing my embarrassment, Jenna asked kindly, "Do you want to learn to read, Y/N?"

I nodded timidly, feeling the warmth of the blush still on my cheeks. "Yes, I would like to."

The princess smiled warmly and pointed to a spot next to her. "Come here. We'll start with something simple."

I approached the window and sat next to Jenna, feeling nervous about her proximity. The room's soft light created an intimate atmosphere as I tried to focus on what Jenna was about to teach me.

The princess took a book, choosing one with clear and large letters. "First, the letters. This is A, this is B..."

While Jenna patiently taught the basics of reading, I tried to pay attention, aware of the accelerated beating of my heart. It was a moment where the desire to learn to read intertwined with the emotion of being close to Jenna, creating a precious and vulnerable moment between us.

William's voice in the distance made me abruptly stand, feeling that it was time to interrupt our impromptu lesson. Jenna looked up with confusion as I smiled with embarrassment.

"I have to go... the task," I said with a hint of embarrassment in my voice.

Jenna genuinely smiled, understanding the situation. "Another time, then. Thank you for your company, Y/N."

I stood up with a smile and a nod of farewell. "Thank you, princess. It will be a pleasure to continue this lesson."

In a sudden impulse, as I was about to leave the room, I approached and planted a quick kiss on Jenna's cheek. The surprise on her face was evident, a moment that made my heart race even faster.

"It was a pleasure, Jenna," I said with a shy smile.

I headed towards the door, feeling my heart still slightly accelerated from being close to Jenna. As I walked away, I reflected on how that day had brought unexpected changes to my life as a huntress.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna marie ortega #Princess #1600s #royalty

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battyaboutbooksreviews · 15 days ago

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💙💜🩷 Upcoming Bisexual Book Releases of 2025

💜 My little bisexual heart is SO excited for this upcoming bisexual book releases of 2025. Which ones are you adding to your TBR?

🩷 Say a Little Prayer - Jenna Voris 🩷 Love in Focus - Lyla Lee 🩷 We Are the Match - Mary E. Roach 🩷 Roll for Love - M.K. England 🩷 Solo Stan - Talia Tucker 🩷 Dream On, Ramona Riley - Ashley Herring Blake 🩷 Hopelessly Teavoted - Audrey Goldberg Ruoff 🩷 My Lady Hiraya - Steven Sy 🩷 The Gryphon King - Sara Omer 🩷 We Are the Match - Mary E. Roach

💙 Daughters of the Blue Moon - Millie Abecassis 💙 A Gentleman's Gentleman - T.J. Alexander 💙 Last Hellos and First Goodbyes - Elba Luz 💙 Tenderly, I Am Devoured - Lyndall Clipstone 💙 If I Dig You - Colby Wilkens 💙 Tenderly, I Am Devoured - Lyndall Clipstone 💙 Modern Divination - Isabel Agajanian 💙 Don't Drag This Out - Emery Lee 💙 For One Night Only - Jessica James

💜 Death Card - Jasmine Smith 💜 The Cuffing Game - Lyla Lee 💜 Lovely Dark and Deep - Elisa A. Bonnin 💜 A Ballad for Slayers & Monsters - Rita A. Rubin 💜 The Transition - Logan-Ashley Kisner 💜 A Vow of Wrath and Ruin - K.W. Foster 💜 A Fix of Light - Kel Menton 💜 No Body No Crime - Tess Sharpe 💜 The Trial Period - Auburn Morrow

💟 A Traitorous Heart - Erin Cotter 💟 Tarnished - Erica Rose Eberhart 💟 This Raging Sea - De Elizabeth 💟 An Arcane Inheritance - Kamilah Cole 💟 Nobody in Particular - Sophie Gonzales 💟 Better Catch Up, Krishna Kumar - Anahita Karthik 💟 The Afterdark - E. Latimer 💟 A Murderous Business - Cathy Pegau 💟 Her Dark Grace - Rae Valtera

🩷 The Broposal - Sonora Reyes 🩷 It's a Love/Skate Relationship - Carli J. Corson 🩷 Futbolista - Jonny Garza Villa 🩷 Holly Jolly July - Lindsay Maple 🩷 Homegrown Magic - Jamie Pacton & Rebecca Podos 🩷 Murder Land - Carlyn Greenwald 🩷 Iron Tongue of Midnight - Brittany N. Williams 🩷 Behooved - M. Stevenson 🩷 A Legionnaire's Guide to Love and Peace - Emily Skrutskie

💙 The Coven Tendency - Zoe Hana Mikuta 💙 Serial Killer Support Group - Saratoga Schaefer 💙 How to Survive a Slasher - Justine Pucella Winans 💙 Well, Actually - Mazey Eddings 💙 Unromance - Erin Connor 💙 Medievally Blonde - Cait Jacobs 💙 Hazelthorn - C.G. Drews 💙 Savage Blooms - S.T. Gibson 💙 The Incandescent - Emily Tesh

💜 Backhanded Compliments - Katie Chandler 💜 Build a Girlfriend - Elba Luz 💜 Virulence - Toni Duarte 💜 This Feast of a Life - Cynthia So 💜 On Her Terms - Amy Spalding 💜 Wooing the Witch Queen - Stephanie Burgis 💜 Love Points to You - Alice Lin 💜 The Sun and the Moon - Rebekah Faubion 💜 Thrill of the Chase - Kathryn Nolan

💟 Exquisite Ruin - AdriAnne May & A.M. Strickland 💟 Alice Rue Evades the Truth - Emily Zipps 💟 Lucky Day - Chuck Tingle 💟 Dawn of the Obsidian Sun - R.N. Barbosa 💟 The Billion Dollar Dynasty - Dominique Davis 💟 Cyrus - A.E. Cosby 💟 Now She's Dead - Roselyn Clarke 💟 Voidwalker - S.A. MacLean 💟 Of Abrasion - S.J. Lee

🩷 Tavern Tale - Kristina W. Kelly 🩷 An Honored Vow - Melissa Blair 🩷 Love on the Sunny Side - Cozy DuBois 🩷 Advocate - Daniel M. Ford 🩷 TSWR: Love At First Flight - S Sidney 🩷 Vessel of Shadows - Rowan Redfield 🩷 Flirting Lessons - Jasmine Guillory 🩷 Love At First Fright - Nadia El-Fassi 🩷 French Pressed Love - M.C. Hutson

#bi books #bisexual romance #bisexual visibility #bisexual pride #bisexuality #books #book releases #book release #new books #books to read #queer #queer books #queer romance #queer pride #queer community #batty about books #battyaboutbooks

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doctorpandorica · 6 months ago

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So Fanfiction, Deadpool and Wolverine, and Logan, made have a fucking epiphany about my mental health. Seeing it sky rocket at the box office, gives me hope that A, I am not alone and B, the world can be a better place. And I have to say, I really do believe both Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman deserve the world.

For the first time in my life yesterday, I looked at myself and thought I look pretty. The FUCKING kicker is I did again this morning and I felt the same way. Maybe just a baby step, but it's a step in the right fucking direction mother fuckers. But, How did I get here (Yes, I'm pulling this shit on you).....

I have horrendous fear of endings and I finally learned....or accepted it's because it's symptomatic of my misery. Things like desperation, depression and anxiety can trick you into the allure of mistaking familiarity as comforting, even when it's hurting you. That you are far less that what you are actually and are deserving of far less than you actually do, that the consequences of our choices are proof that our pessimistic view is the whole of reality.

But, it's only half of the truth and that is the majesty of realism, seeing the glass is both half full and half empty. The best understanding of Pessimism, Optimism and realism can be explained in a quote by William Arthur Ward. Where the three are stuck out at sea on a sail boat,

"The Pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails."

To make the best choices in life you need to see every possibility and my heart goes out to those that are so blinded by pessimism, hope seems like fairy tale. I mean it's hard enough even if you can see things are possible but, it's still a bitch of an up road battle.

Which brings me to one of the most devastating ones in my life, the death of my dad. I always wondered how someone who seemed so sure of himself, could understand my pain so well. In hindsight I knew he had very hard life, it shouldn't have surprised me that he not only had crippling OCD, Anxiety but, depressions that at times reached suicidal ideations.

I was more my father's daughter than I realized, and took those fucking movie, to really appreciate what that meant.

Don't blindly accept things, ask questions.

If I had, I would've realized it's not that I don't care what others think, I'm really fucking depressed. And that's why I don't put effort in what I wear, or personal hygiene or wear make up. Never assume to know who you are, that's part of the majesty of life, that not knowing.

You never truly fail, until you give up.

For more clarity , I would like to add, some words of wisdom from a beloved science teacher,

"If at first you don't succeed, find out why"

Treat people fairly, across the board "Give people a chance"

To be sparingly coupled with, both

Trust your gut

This requires a lot of hard work, with self regulation and introspection. I've found DBT or Dialectical Behavioral Therapy to be very helpful. Which I must add the following because, I was wrongfully diagnosed with Autism (feeds into the dangers of acceptance). My therapist who diagnosed me ironically introduced to me the saving grace that is DBT. But, told me it wouldn't help me because I am autistic which she came to the conclusion based on ...

Flat Effect

Only developed when I hit puberty, the same time I developed depression and anxiety. People don't develop autism later on in their life, they are born with it.

Black and white thinking

If anything I think this is the problem with society and for anyone to say this about me, has obviously never heard me talk about anything. I found this utterly insulting

Anger prone

Repressed emotions and didn't start happening until 20's

Lack of Eye contact

I get really nervous around meeting new people, particularly if they stand really close to me for some fucking reason. Once I get to know people I have no problem looking them in the eye.

Lack of Socialization

Low self-esteem brought on by my Depression

Social Anxiety and general Anxiety (fear of doing something wrong)

I actually do have a desire to socialize, but mistook relief after social based anxious episodes as me not liking it.

The same was done with someone very close to me, who was told they were Bipolar even though it didn't fit. They chose to trust they 're doctor, and was proven insanely wrong by they're new Doctor who aptly diagnosed them as having Borderline Personality and they are doing so much better.

Anyway I participated in a DBT group for about 16 weeks or so, one of which was diagnosed late in life with a form of autism. And the difference by the end of those weeks only strengthened my faith in DBT.

Don't start anything, but always finish

Don't go looking for a fight but, stand up for yourself when necessary, emphasis on necessary.

As long as people aren't hurting others or themselves, mind your own business

For some people this can be tricky, especially for those guided by their idealized narratives of the world. Again DBT can help with this in the grand scheme of things.

I mistakenly thought, that because I didn't seem to react how I would expect (bad assumptions) that I was fine. Even though, I was able to acknowledge that I was deeply depressed, which I was able to trace back to age 11, which for clarity was 20 years ago. Which fun fact I only discovered in my senior year of high school, followed by my anxiety a year later my first year of college. IT IS NEVER TOO LATE !!! EVEN IF YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TOMORROW!!! HAPPYNESS MAY NOT BE A CHOICE BUT THE PATH TO IT IS!!!

More In-depth analysis of how Hugh Jackman, Ryan Reynolds and Marvel factor into follow in follow up post. Because This post is too damn long, already. Thank you to those who read it all the way through , I wish you contentment.

#Deadpool #Wolverine #Deadpool and Wolverine #Hugh Jackman #Ryan Reynolds #DBT #Trauma Dumping #Hope #Choice #Realism #pessimism #optimism

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killerandhealerqueen · 22 days ago

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✨ weekend wip exposure club ✨

rules: post 7 sentences/a snippet of an unfinished work

@hyperbolicgrinch and @theotherwhybietoldmeso (Happy Weekend my loves!)

Yes, another fandom, how does she do it.

Danny didn’t do cops. I mean, why would he, he was a fucking crime boss, so the fact that he was standing outside of the Honolulu Police Department was a testament in and of itself that he…needed help. He then stared at the building for a moment before he took a deep breath and headed inside, pointedly ignoring the stares he got as he walked over to the front desk and looked at the receptionist. “Hi, I’d like to report a kidnapping” he declared. ~*~*~*~*~*~ A little while later, inside on of the interrogation rooms, Danny sat before two men, an older Asian man in a police uniform and a brick-shithouse of a man dressed in a simple navy-blue t-shirt and cargo pants, and looked at them for a moment before the older Asian gentleman cleared his throat. “Mr. Williams, I’m Sergeant Duke Lukela and this is Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett with the Hawaii Five-0 task force. You said something about wanting to report a kidnapping?” he inquired. Danny nodded. “Yeah, I did” he replied before he let out a shuddering breath. “It’s my daughter, Grace. She’s missing and I think she was brought here” he explained, making Steve look at him with a frown. “And why do you think that?” he asked. Danny was quiet before he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, pulling up an app before he showed it to the two men. “Because her tracker puts her here. That’s why I think that” he replied. Duke and Steve looked at him in surprise. “You tracked your own daughter?” Duke exclaimed. Danny huffed. “In my…line of work, I need to make sure I know where my people are at all times. That includes my daughter” he explained before he looked at the two men. “Now I don’t think I have to explain to you exactly what I do for work, do I, gentlemen?” he asked.

Tagging: who ever wants to play

#weekend wip exposure club #hawaii five 0 #mcdanno #mafia au

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gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 3 months ago

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Logic and Reason

Author’s note: Fem!Roboute

Summary: Roberta remembers some of her father Konnor's words of wisdom, which she follows, no matter how many years pass, they still make sense.

Warnings: LMK if I need to add anything.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis, @undeaddream

"My Star child," Roberta heard her father say with such warmth and affection, she turns and heads over to him.

A happy, trusting smile on her face as she heads over to her papa and reaches out for him. Back when she was small enough that her father could easily pick her up and carry her on his hip.

"Papa!" Roberta said with a smile and pressing a happy, messy kiss of an adoring child to her father's face.

He chuckles softly and presses an affectionate kiss to her forehead and she leans into him more. Laying her cheek against his chest and closing her eyes a little, as she stuck her thumb in her mouth as she heard the familiar soothing thump-thump of his heartbeat.

"My star child," Konnor starts again and she opens her brilliant, almost glowing blue eyes as she tilts her head and looks at him again.

Blinking innocent eyes up at him, "This world- as much as I am doing my best to change it to be a better world, it has it's issues. Equality is one of them."

He lets out a heavy sigh, and rocks her a little and starts speaking, 'the nobles and the lower classes, there is inequality, and that I am striving to change- for the betterment of McCragge as a whole. Between men and women, there is inequality as well."

"You listen to mama," Roberta pointed out with a confused pout.

"Yes, but some... think that a woman can't rule, not on her own." Konnor says.

"That's stupid," Roberta says with childish indignation.

"It is stupid," Konnor said rocking her a little and pressing another affectionate kiss to her cheek. "but- in order for most men to listen to you, you must sound like them, look like them."

Roberta tilts her head a little confused, "Wha?"

"In public, your pronouns are he/him," Konnor says, "And your public name is Roboute Guilliman. It will make it so those foolish men will listen to you... and it will more likely protect you from..."

He pauses and presses his lips together as a frown tugs at his lips. There are certain things that he'd not told his daughter- too young, despite how fast she grows, not yet.

Such ugliness and cruelty isn't just harm that happened to women, such things could happen to anyone of any gender, but if his lovely star child is known to be girl.

His frown deepens, as much as he's tried to stamp out the Sabine Ritual, it's still practiced, and still considered a perfectly legal form of marriage.

Of course- it's rarer but women have stolen husbands. And Spouses have stolen spouses. And Husbands have stolen husbands, and wives have stolen wives. But most examples are of husbands stealing wives.

And his little star- she is very special, it was something he had known deep in his bones when he'd first find his star child when he'd looked into a meteor that had crashed at the edge of his property.

Instead of stone and rock, a small, beautiful child that almost glowed in the star light crawled out- and he could swear he'd seen a crown of laurels grace that tiny head, but for the briefest of moments.

"We like keeping secrets and hiding things from others, yes?" Konnor continued.

"Yes!" Roberta's grin gets big and she giggles full of mischief.

"So- to trick everyone else but me and mama," Konnor says, "everyone else must think you are a boy, okay?"

"Yes daddy!" Roberta says innocently, sweetly.

~~~~

Roberta is shaken out of her thoughts, but of course, things were more complicated. And her dearly departed father had trusted one other person with the truth of his star child.

That bastard traitor- who had killed her father- just thinking about that bastards last words to her. The terror she'd felt, the rage- and the hot, wet blood of the Traitor on her skin and hands, to protect her mother, to protect herself, and she had rallied the people under her banner, her cause.

She has yet to meet another being who's size and height reaches her own. She knows how others can be caught in her orbit- and listen to her every word.

Still- she has another world to bring into the fold of Ultramar. She uses diplomacy first- and if that breaks down, Force, as much pressures is needed until the planet folds.

Then she and her people put down their weapons, roll up their sleeves and get into the business of rebuilding the worlds they take over. Make them stronger, better, while keeping certain traits of the world, the same.

One of the planets that she is in negotiates with has their own space travel- and some other interesting infrastructure and other valuable resources that makes her hesitant to use Force.

#warhammer 40k #warhammer #adeptus astartes #primarchs #roboute guilliman #Roberta Guilliman #Fem!Primarch #fem!Roboute guilliman

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we-arent-sane · 6 months ago

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NAME: Evan & Penelope Rosier.

ALIAS: Ev, Evie (ONLY Nico), Eevo, Eevee, Rosie, Rose, Rosier, Penny, Pen.

AGE: 17, 19th of April, 25th of December.

PRONOUNS & SEXUALITY: She/her (trans), lesbian, he/him, gay.

WEAPON(S): A sword of celestial bronze, 51 inches, A dagger of imperial gold, 23 inches.

PERSONALITY: They're very rude, but it can be both affectionately and actually rude, they're a bit (a lot) bitchy, and they're very loud. They don't really care about peoples opinions, or so they wants people to think, because they takes everything to heart. If you hit the right buttons, they will either try to fight you, or they'll go non-verbal and avoid you for a while. They does not talk about their family or their childhood, and avoids the subject at all cost. But they're actually very sweet and caring, to people they're very close with and they really care about. And if they're comfortable enough, they become a little silly and stuff.

FAMILY: Nike (Mother), Victoria (Mother), Michael Rosier (Father), they're both legacies of Ares.

PEOPLE THEY KNOW:

@drea-and-nico - Andrea and Nicolas Lilith, children of Hades, Nico is my boyfriend actually🫵

@not-a-panda - Pandora Stoll, a child of Travis Stoll and Katie Gardner, DORAAAA!!!!

@iggy-mini-miny-moe - Ignis Grace, a child of Jason Grace and Leo Valdez.

@ineedtoescapefromreality - Rosalyn and Echo Mclean, children of Piper Mclean and Shel Mclean.

@chasing-that-jackson - Charlotte Sally Chase-Jackson, a child of Perseus Jackson and Annabeth Chase.

@overwhelmingly-his-son - Lukas Castellan, a grandchild of May Castellan

@daughter-of-storm - Isla Graham, a child of Jupiter, Champion of Minerva my bestfriend yippie

OTHER DEMIGODS.

@olivernothere - Oliver Solace-Di Angelo, a child of William Solace and Nico Di Angelo.

@daffy-not-a-duck - Daphne Naria Solace-Di Angelo, a child of William Solace and Nico Di Angelo.

@hey-guys-its-sam - Samantha Zhang, a child of Frank Zhang and Hazel Levesque.

@violent-cinnamonroll - Aria Nicole La Rue, a child of Clarisse La Rue and Silena Beauregard.

@morningstar-of-the-night - Kallisto Danica Arrelano-Grace, a child of Reyna Ramirez-Arellano and Thalia Grace.

@praetor-ambrose-asher - Ambrose Asher, a legacy of Primordial Khaos.

@the-poison-and-the-sky - Belladonna Chase-Jackson, a child of Perseus Jackson and Annabeth Chase-Jackson, from another Universe.

@daredevil-larue - Lucine La Rue, a child of Clarisse La Rue and Silena Beauregard.

@yeahiguessim-white - Felix White, a child of Damien White and Chiara Benvenuti.

ADULTS:

@leo-repairguy-valdez - Leo Valdez, married to Jason Grace, father to William Valdez and Ignis Grace.

@percy-jackson-xxx - Perseus Jackson, married to Annabeth Chase-Jackson , father to Charlotte Sally Chase-Jackson and Cassandra Hestia Chase-Jackson.

@sincerely-anniejackson - Annabeth Chase-Jackson, married to Perseus Jackson, mother of Charlotte Sally Chase-Jackson and Cassandra Hestia Chase-Jackson.

@ghost-king-and-thebones - Nico Di Angelo, married to William Solace, father to Oliver Solace-Di Angelo and Daphne Naria Solace-Di Angelo.

@doctor-sunshine-andcarebears - William Andrew Solace, married to Nico Di Angelo, father to Oliver Solace-Di Angelo and Daphne Naria Solace-Di Angelo.

(More will be added)

Penelope is orange and Evan is purple, i sometimes forget to color their text so uhmm

Yes, I know Evan Rosier is a marauders character, but I took the name so live with it.

Blog is owned by: @moonssong

#pjo hoo toa #pjo #pjo fandom #pjo oc #pjo ocs #pjo rp blog #pjo rp #pjo rpg #percy jackson #pjoverse #riordanverse #rick riordan

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esther-dot · 1 year ago

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Hi! I just wanted to ask if you are one of the jonsas who think Jon and Dany won't be romantically involved in the books.

Well...

The streets grew emptier as they passed through a district given over to gloomy stone warehouses. Aggo went before her and Jhogo behind, leaving Ser Jorah Mormont at her side. Her bell rang softly, and Dany found her thoughts returning to the Palace of Dust once more, as the tongue returns to a space left by a missing tooth. Child of three, they had called her, daughter of death, slayer of lies, bride of fire. So many threes. Three fires, three mounts to ride, three treasons. "The dragon has threeheads," she sighed. "Do you know what that means, Jorah?" "Your Grace? The sigil of House Targaryen is a three-headed dragon, red on black." "I know that. But there are no three-headed dragons." "The three heads were Aegon and his sisters." "Visenya and Rhaenys," she recalled. "I am descended from Aegon and Rhaenys through their son Aenys and their grandson Jaehaerys." "Blue lips speak only lies, isn't that what Xaro told you? Why do you care what the warlocks whispered? All they wanted was to suck the life from you, you know that now." (ACOK, Daenerys V)

"Your Grace," he conceded, "the dragon has three heads, remember? You have wondered at that, ever since you heard it from the warlocks in the House of Dust. Well, here's your meaning: Balerion, Meraxes, and Vhagar, ridden by Aegon, Rhaenys, and Visenya. The three-headed dragon of House Targaryen—three dragons, and three riders." "Yes," said Dany, "but my brothers are dead." "Rhaenys and Visenya were Aegon's wives as well as his sisters. You have no brothers, but you can take husbands. And I tell you truly, Daenerys, there is no man in all the world who will ever be half so true to you as me." (ASOS, Daenerys I)

The dragon has three heads. There are two men in the world who I can trust, if I can find them. I will not be alone then. We will be three against the world, like Aegon and his sisters. "Was the night as quiet as it seemed?" Dany asked. (ASOS, Daeneryrs VI)

Three treasons will you know. Once for gold and once for blood and once for love. (ADWD, Daenerys VI)

Unlike show Dany, book Dany is a romantic, she does fantasize about being rescued, and she is interested in a guy even when he doesn’t particularly care for her. We now Euron wants her and potentially might harness a dragon, so it's possible by the time she and Jon meet, she's disabused of all this and they're only antagonistic. That doesn't really feel like Martin to me though?

His mantra has always been William Faulkner’s comment in his Nobel prize acceptance speech, that only the “human heart in conflict with itself … is worth writing about”. “I think that’s true of any fiction worth reading, that you’re really talking about people. And maybe it’s set in space or in a castle with dragons, maybe you set it in a suburban town where Dick and Jane live, or in some urban hell hole. Wherever you want to set your story, it’s still about people trying to make their decisions about what is right and what is wrong, how do I survive, questions of good and evil.”

I really doubt that he'd write a one-note dynamic. He inserted conflict into the healthiest canon relationship, he emphasizes the conflict within the Stark family, he likes complexity not merely theoretically, but it's what interests him, it's what he writes to explore. And here we have a series of quotes that set up Dany to trust someone (Jon) who has a preexisting loyalty to the Starks that will demand he act in their best interest which aligns with her prophesied treason (betray her for love of the Stark), and seeing all the Dark Dany foreshadowing, what she thinks of the Starks, it's clear they will not be friends.

Now, does Jon need to be romantically involved with her to spice up the two being at odds? No. Jon's time at the Wall has him trying to put aside his love for his family and accept his new "family," and no matter his oath or how many times he tells himself, he can't be swayed in his loyalty and love for the Starks. To me, it reads like a form of an idea that will add layers to his interactions with Dany. No longer is it merely an oath that is meant to make him loyal to "family", it's blood. It's actually family, long lost family, potentially, a new identity, not being a bastard, if he wanted it. The Watch allows him to rise up to Lord Commander, it would make sense for the Targ situation to offer him a high station too, as a form of temptation (not that it matters, he's obvy never gonna betray the Starks). Maybe we'll be lucky and it's only that.

But, we also have the Ygritte situation in which there is an invading force and even though he's sexually involved, he can't be swayed in his loyalty. To me, that too reads like prep for Jon's next "test" to be ramped up and even more trying, worse, much worse. How much "more" might we see here? I'm torn. I've read and liked different spec. If Stumpy is right and we get Jonnel x Sansa 2.0, Jon will already be married and there's just no way in hell Jon is cheating on Sansa, so blood relation vs the family that he grew up with may be it.

HOWEVER, if Jon is KitN, I don’t see how he goes South and puts himself in enemy hands, and if he isn’t, if he defends Sansa or Rickon’s claim, there’s a lot more tension because of what Dany could offer him. If Jon is not only accepted in the North but married to a Stark and king or warden or regent or anything official, imo, there's just not much tension there at all. If Martin wouldn't allow a clear-cut Jon vs FF, but wrote into that "the heart in conflict with itself" for Jon, I'm very doubtful he hasn't planned a similar trial for Jon with Dany/her invasion. Tension makes things fun, he likes making things emotionally difficult and morally complex. And let's not forget, Mance, the leader of the FF/the invasion is presented in a very Rhaegar-esque way, Dany sees herself as Rhaegar once, and Jon was meant to kill Mance. Doesn't bode well.

Also, we gotta look at that word "treason." Jon could be the king who knelt redux, Martin isn't in favor of needless war, a king sacrificing it all to save his people is admirable, and that would allow Jon's actions against Dany to be treasonous. And if we think of this from the Dany perspective, we would want to up the anti of her own feelings of betrayal. She "saved" (in her mind) Mirri, she trusted Jorah who claimed to love her, how can the last treason be worse, far more painful, the most painful? Someone who has sworn to her, ok. Family? Sure, but Viserys already abused her/was a threat. Lover? Well, we all know Daario is a fuckboi and doesn't care for her, so maybe, to make it truly suck, all three? The person she thought she was destined to meet/trust, family she didn't know she had, a potential husband, is her final betrayal? I think the stacking idea for both the relationship and the treason may be it.

I do not think Jon would willingly enter into a relationship with Dany. Unfortunately, that does not mean one will not happen. I don't think it's conclusive they will have sex, but Dany's tracks to Jon say "husband" (some would argue shadowy lover...), and Jon's experiences point to him betraying "family"/someone who loves him. IMO, the odds are it's a one-sided thing.

SO, my very rambling answer to a pretty straightforward question is, I am not. I am not sure that they will have sex, but I certainly think it's very likely Dany will want a romantic relationship as part of her Targ belief. It will end badly for her, as I talked about in the flies/"dead man's revenge" post, but I certainly think there's gonna be layers there, nothing simplistic.

#anti daenerys #anti jonerys #dot chat #< for filtering

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