#a queen is worth the life of my children he had thought

[tenochconamor]

Shuri felt safe around Namor.

A year of her mom, her closest friends and family trying to get Shuri to open up about her grief was ineffective. However, after this King who everyone was afraid of, shared his life story, his history, his culture and his secrets with her she felt safe enough to share her complex feelings about her brother's death to him. Grief she had buried within for a year was laid bare, practically spilling her guts to him, in the face of Namor's own openness and vulnerability.

I think Shuri still longs for the connection she had with Namor even after everything that happened. She's more untethered than ever before and longs for the only person she ever felt that instant connection to but she can't go to him because it's not easy to forgive. So she goes to Haiti, the beach, as close to the water as she can and she cries.

[raven-dor]

say yes to me

In which peter pevensie finally finds the courage he's famously known for

PAIRING: peter pevensie x reader, susan pevensie x PLATONIC!reader, edmund pevensie x PLATONIC!reader, lucy pevensie x PLATONIC!reader

WARNINGS: SET DURING THE GOLDEN AGE, established relationship, old friends, banter, arguing (not actual arguing, just reader knowing her worth, peter just stands there), allusion to NSFW, fluff

WORD COUNT: 2,342

say yes to heaven

Peter stalked across the ballroom, determined to talk to Y/N.

On the other side stood Y/N, who was determined to ignore Peter until hell froze over.

Susan rolled her eyes at the predicament. It was obvious neither of them would let it go, so she decided to take the reigns of the situation and manipulate their minds—slightly—so that they would stop this nonsense and so Susan, Edmund, and poor, sweet, confused Lucy could finally live in peace. "You have to dance with him."

Y/N scoffed. "I don't have to do anything."

Susan nodded. "You're right; you don't have to do anything. I just thought the High Queen and King should have the last dance instead of the High King and Duchess Mian, but it is no matter. I'll go get her-"

She shook her head. "No, it's-"

Peter approached his siblings, only looking at Y/N. He extended his hand hesitantly. "May I have this last waltz?"

She sighed, putting her hand in his. "If you must."

They walked away, and Edmund laughed at his older sister. "Remind me never to be on your bad side, Su."

Lucy looked up at Susan, puzzled. "But Duchess Mian was done dancing hours ago. She twisted her ankle."

Susan smirked. "She doesn't need to know that."

Peter put his hand around Y/N’s waist, earning a scoff from the annoyed Queen. "You don't have to be this close for a waltz, Your Majesty."

"Don't call me that."

"Call you what? Your formal title?"

He glared at her. "Stop behaving like a child."

She laughed. "I'm behaving like a child? Interesting."

"Y/N/N, I'm sorry."

She smirked, murmuring. "Well, this is new."

He continued. "I'm sorry that I haven't made you feel loved, and I'm sorry that you feel like I don't pay attention to you, but I do." Y/N just stared at him as he kept talking. "I know that your favorite color is deep blue like the sea, I know that you prefer blueberries above all other fruit, I know that you are fiercely loyal, that you want two children because you're scared the first one will get lonely. I know that you treat my siblings like your own, and I know that you are the love of my life." Somewhere along the line of his speech, she had looked down and was staring at his chest. Peter cleared his throat, nerves overtaking his adrenaline. "Say anything, please."

"I can't believe you." They twirled around again, and Peter became confused. Why was she still upset with him? "Y/N/N I-"

"Don't Y/N/N me. I just told you that I didn't want you to tell me like this because it would feel rushed. And here you are, saying some beautiful, heartfelt speech, and you expect me to fall into your arms? Is that it?"

"I didn't think that would happen exactly, but I did think it would go a little better than this-" He stopped, and his smile returned quickly. "You thought it was beautiful?"

"Peter-"

The waltz ended, and Y/N thanked Aslan. Perfect timing. Susan walked out into the middle of the dance floor, grinning. "Thank you all for such a wonderful evening. Safe travels home, and a Happy Christmas!"

Y/N talked to a few guests, thanking them for traveling so very far. But when they had all trickled out, and it was just the Narnian royals, she stalked off as far away from Peter as she could.

She leaned her head against the back of her chair, letting out a deep breath. The night had felt longer than it actually had been, and she always felt more relaxed sitting on her balcony. Her robe did little to keep her warm, so she went back into her closet and pulled out a thicker one, layering it on top. Going outside in the middle of winter wasn't the wisest idea, but the balcony was her safe space. Her door flung open, and she gasped, hiding against the wall, looking for anything near her to defend herself. Peter’s voice echoed through her room, causing her to feel as though steam was coming out of her ears.

"Y/N."

She left her hiding spot, stalking toward him. "You cannot just come into my room unannounced-"

"I have to talk to you."

She shook her head.  "You cannot be in here-"

"Y/N/N, please-"

She put her hands on his chest, pushing him towards the door. "Someone could see you-"

"I do not care." He looked down at her, his eyes crazed with something she didn't want to address at the moment. But apparently, he did. "I love you, and I know that you love me. You're just scared. You don't like that I finally admitted my feelings for you at the wrong time when it looked like it didn't matter." He sighed. "And I am truly sorry for that, I am. But you helped me realize that I love you, and I always have." He walked closer. "I know that you love me too. You just don't want to become vulnerable."

She scoffed. "I am not in love with you. We're eighteen. We just think we're in love."

He laughed. "I did not say that you were in love with me."

Her cheeks turned red. "No, but you implied it.” He looked at her with that stupid grin. “Leave, Pevensie." She pushed his chest again, but he grabbed her wrists. She shook against his hold. "Why do you always resort to this?"

He pulled her closer. "You know that you love me."

She didn't move away, but she didn't move toward him. She merely smiled up at him. "You-need-to-leave." She pushed him once more. "We cannot handle another scandal at the moment."

He rolled his eyes. "I would hardly call turning down Lord Eluna a scandal."

Her laugh was void of humor. "It is when it looks like I merely turned him down because I wanted to."

Peter huffed. "Fine, I'll go." He smiled one last time before he left her room. "But you know where to find me."

Y/N laid back on her bed, staring at the ceiling in shock. She did love him; she knew that. She then spent the next hour contemplating whether or not she should go to him. A moment of weakness struck at 2 am. She couldn't get his confession out of her head. Actually, it was just the one sentence that made her heart flutter. "And I know that you are the love of my life."

Slipping on her shoes, she tiptoed to Peter's room, knocking on the door. No answer. Maybe he had gone to bed. She knocked once more, and the door opened, Peter's groggy face in front of her. She smiled awkwardly. "Did I wake you?"

He shook his head. "Are you alright?"

She shook her head back. He held the door open more, gesturing to come inside. Y/N looked around, smiling, when she saw a painting of the five of them above his fireplace. He closed the door and walked towards the fire, fixing a kettle. 

"Would you like tea? Always makes me feel better when I-"

"I know that you're the love of my life too."

He put the kettle down and stood up, staring at her. "What?"

"I love you. I'm sorry, I just- I had to tell you." Peter walked towards her slowly, a smile growing on his face, and she became nervous. "Why are you silent? You're never silent." He walked closer, and she whispered, a smile threatening to break through her scared facade. "Please just say something."

Peter's smile had grown into a full grin as he looked down at her, whispering back a single word. "Jump."

A chill ran down her spine as she complied with his request. He held her by her thighs as he walked her up against a wall. She flushed. He dipped his head down, grinning boyishly. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this."

She sighed, stretching her neck to touch his lips. "Just do it, please."

He smirked and slammed his lips into hers without any warning. She let her hands travel up the nape of his neck, grabbing his neck and pulling slightly. She gasped for air, looking up at him, dazed and content. "I want you."

His eyes were dark, and her knees felt weak. He grinned once more, throwing her onto the bed. "I am going to prove to you how much I love you."

The sun poked lazily through shut drapes, hitting her eyes. She sighed, opening them hesitantly. Her legs tangled together with Peters and his burgundy sheets. Y/N smiled giddily, knowing that last night hadn't been a dream. Peter's head was resting underneath her jaw, and she hummed softly, putting her hand through his hair. She moved slightly, trying to re-situate herself, and he groaned, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her closer, if that was somehow possible. He murmured in his sleep. "Y/N..."

She couldn't bring herself to wake him, so she carefully grabbed a pillow she had been using and placed it underneath his head. Prying his arm off her waist, she grabbed her nightgown and robe, quickly throwing them on. She looked back at Peter once more, pushing the hair out of his face, and gently kissed his forehead.

Y/N tiptoed towards his door, shutting it gently, and let out a deep breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. She walked to her room quickly and sank to the ground. "What just happened?" She was in shock, that much she knew. It wasn't the kind of shock you have after witnessing something horrible, but her gut was twisting, and she knew it was because they’d changed their dynamic forever. It was a lot to handle by herself.

She needed to breathe.

Penelope galloped out of the stables, and she sighed as the fresh air rejuvenated her skin. Winter was in full bloom, but it wasn't the evil, cold, and dark winter that Narnians were used to. It was a magical, warm winter. The air was crisp but just enough so you enjoyed it. She rode into the woods, only slowing when she saw something eerily familiar. She stopped Penelope and jumped off, the snow crunching underneath her feet.

The lamp post.

Y/N grinned. It was still here. She walked closer, feeling at home with the old piece of infrastructure. She walked further into the woods, remembering the way back to the Spare Oom, as Tumnus so lovingly called it, perfectly. The flashbacks flooded back, and she grinned as she reminisced back to when they were just children. A chill ran down her back as she made contact with a rather furry branch. She kept walking forward, seeing the crack of the door until a voice called out.

"Y/N!"

She gasped, throwing herself out of the wardrobe. Walking back to the lamp post, butterflies fluttered incessantly at the sight of Peter and his disheveled hair. He looked nervous, and she blushed; it was sweet to see how much he cared.

She smiled lightly, walking closer to him. "Hello."

He nodded. "Hello."

Y/N cleared her throat. "Is something wrong-"

"You weren't there. This morning." He coughed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Imagine my surprise when I rolled over and you were no longer there."

She sighed. "Peter-"

"I understand. We don't have to talk about it again; we can just forget it happened-"

"I don't want to forget."

He looked up, tilting his head. "You don't?"

"No. I don't." She put her hand on his arm, smiling. "I had a nice time. I just needed some fresh air, that's all."

He nodded. "Ah." He grabbed her hand delicately and kissed the back, his eyes locked on hers. "You scared me."

"I'm sorry." She brought her other hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly. "I didn't mean to scare you."

He sighed, and she stood on her tiptoes, kissing his lips softly. "Do you forgive me now?"

He didn't respond, and she kissed him once more, more passionately than the first. He’d almost melted into the ground. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her closer, murmuring against her lips. "You're forgiven."

"Oh thank Aslan, I was worried for a second."

He rolled his eyes. "As if I could ever be mad at you. "

Y/N squealed as Peter helped her off her horse and twirled her around. She grinned down at him, and he looked up at her like she was the moon and the stars.

A cough echoed through the empty stables. "Are we interrupting?"

Her eyes widened, and she pushed herself away from Peter. "No, not at all."

Peter looked down at her with a humorous glint in his eye. "Not at all?"

She hissed at him, pulling his ear down to her level. "We are in the presence of your family, Peter. Try to hold yourself together for a moment." He smirked, whispering back. "That's going to be difficult."

Edmund sighed. "Are you done?"

Y/N nodded. "Yes, yes, we're done." She pat Peter's arm lightly. "I'll see you at dinner, Peter."

Peter watched her take two steps, and he just couldn't stand it anymore. He grabbed her wrist as she tried to walk away and pulled her back towards him. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She shook her head slowly, and he smiled reassuringly before looking up. He cleared his throat and looked up at his siblings. "Y/N and I have something to tell you."

Susan sighed. "Peter, you did not elope-"

They both turned red, shaking their heads quickly. "No! No!" Y/N looked up at him, and he smiled brightly. "We’re courting."

Susan crossed her arms and decided she would bring up the fact that she knew Y/N had been in his room for a different time.

taglist: @beebeechaos

[aphroditesmoon]

children of the empire

king!jacaerys valeryon x reader

summary: the tale of the king and the slave.

warnings: slave!reader, infidelity, hurt/comfort, angst, childbirth, grief, death, inspired by paul and chani from dune book series.

A/N: just jace and reader being wholly devoted to eachother

wc: 1.4k

----

HE KNEW THE two of you were destined to be together from the moment he laid his eyes on you. After the coronation held for him as King, multiple houses that had changed the course of their loyalty at the last minute had begun to seek the now young King Jacaerys’ favor. And so began the parade of gifts from ornaments, jewels and women were presented. Exotic slaves from colonized lands were brought forth to the king. He had sat on the throne as if it was made just for him. The throne his mother had not been given the privilege to sit on for even a whole year. 

By his side, was his once betrothed and now Queen Baela. Their union was celebrated the way their parents would have wanted, and the two tried their hardest to uphold all the traditions and rulings to make worth of the sacrifices and bloodshed in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen.  

In everyone’s eyes, the pair was unstoppable, a united front with grudging respect for the other. A pair not only blessed with deserving power, but also with love. 

But no one knew what really lied behind closed doors. The King Jacaerys and Queen Baela Targaryen had not loved one another. They might’ve liked each other in a way, back then. But the war and deaths have changed them both forever. They could not find any semblance of romantic attraction or comfort in the other. They had mourned their families in such a similar way, yet somehow still jarringly different. To find intimacy with the other was to face unspoken grief. 

Jacaerys had thought that the loveless marriage would be the end of him ever experiencing a pure, tender bond with anyone. But he had seen you in a line of tired looking, plain and pretty girls, and he had sworn he’d seen you in a dream before.  

If his mother was alive, she would be cursing him off his head. In fact, sometimes he hears her too. Yelling, and calling him a failure of a son, as he’s holding your thighs open, plunging himself deeper inside of you. An affair had by kings wasn’t uncommon, but he wondered how many of them were of love and not lust. He knew he would love you like his mother loved his father. But no matter how much of him is his mother’s son, he would not let you suffer the same end as his father. 

He learned quickly that you weren’t as docile as you looked. Ask the wrong question and you’ll snap back. And yet, you were also not as hostile as you make yourself to be. You scold him like no one dares to do to the King, and you call him names on days he’s being particularly irritating, receiving a rising reaction from his shocked and baffled advisor and guards. But he knew that you were harmless. And you knew that a man like him can take a few jabs. And as much as the insults keep on coming, you advise him like no one does either.  

You run your fingers through his hair like you’d give up everything you have to be able to touch him. And he looks up to your standing figure through his mussed-up hair as he kneels down with his arms circling your waist, like no one could ever look to even the greatest of kings. 

“You will carry my children.” He had once told you.

The late-night silence where only the wind was able to speak louder than either of you, making anything he was saying sound possible. “Your queen will hold a knife to my throat.” You responded, feeling him pull you closer to his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head. “I would not let any other woman be the mother to my children except you.”  

You let out a hoarse laugh that sounded almost too cynical to his liking. “I am not your woman, even if I am your property. Any child you have with me is a child destined for a life of suffering.” Had he not been so tired, he would have presented a stronger case after seeing you argue with much more fire even in such an hour. But instead, he only shook his head hard enough for you to feel his disagreement. “You are not my property.” You hummed with your ear to his heart. “I would be yours if you’ll have me, and I’d let you rob me naked if that be your heart’s desire.” You let out a scoff you always do when you’re finding him ridiculous and drunk. Only soft kings dare to dream, a reminder you bring up constantly to him. All because you knew what usually happens to those kinds of rulers, and even if you wouldn’t say it out loud, you cared for him too much to see him resigned to such a fate.  

Three months later, you were with child. Brimmed with joy, Jacaerys had vowed to legalize the babe as soon as it comes out. And even with his queen’s relentless challenging to his title and responsibility, he refuses to send you away. He asks her forgiveness for the disrespect the child’s birth would be to her, but his mind was set.  

An illegitimate royal child was not unheard of, and Jacaerys’ fortunate case of being a man helps lessen the cacophony of riots and disagreement within the council. But when it had been confirmed that the child would be legalized and appointed as his heir. How can a scion of the Targaryen family be a bastard made by bastards.  

And yet with every voice raised against him, his assurance only becomes stronger. Every drink you take and every meal you eat will be tested first for poison. And every move you make would be supervised and followed by personal guards that were starting to make you regret being with him.  6 months into the pregnancy, you had relented into staying in your chambers, his overprotectiveness had become more obvious. Not even the Queen was granted to visit you, in fear of bad intentions.  

His actions had hurt Baela, for she expected him to know better what kind of person she is in terms of morality.  

When your water finally broke, he was 20 minutes late. When a guard had run to him in the throne room to announce the birth, he didn’t need to be told twice to get himself off the iron throne, running to you as fast as he could. You had given birth to a set of twins. A girl, and a boy. He had made it to you in the last few seconds before you let out your final breath. You had whispered his name as he squeezes your hand in a fist while apologizing profusely. “I couldn’t have belonged to anyone else, even if I wanted to.” He had cried by your side. You responded with a confession you’ve never uttered aloud, though both of you already knew what it was. You had breathed out so quietly, words only meant for his ears, “I love you.” The lights in his eyes died out the second you were announced deceased.  

He sat by your cold body for hours before he could be convinced to let his grip on your dead arms off. He held both of his babes for the first and last time in his arms that day before spending the next 2 days locked and isolated in his chambers. Rhaenyra and Lucerys Targaryen. A storm brewed in the sky of Kings Landing. Wild winds and lightning as devastating as his own heart. The people stayed inside as the weather rips off wooden houses and floods the streets in every corner that is 

Baela had tried speaking to him, as gentle as she could, reminding him of his children. But he was non-verbal. And so, she gave up.  

On the third day, Rhaena Targaryen had rushed to her Queen sister, screaming in pure terror as she held up a folded and opened envelope of a letter. The doors to the King’s chambers were slammed open, only to find the place empty. The King hadleft. He had exited the castle to the storms.  

And in his letter contained his want for his wife to rule in his stead until his daughter Rhaenyra reaches the age of 10 and 8, old enough to be wed to her brother, and then after, she’d take her rightful place as Queen.

A legitimate claim to the throne.  

The only other thing written besides his will, was a sentence among the lines, ‘Only a soft king dares to dream. And I am as weak and soft as it can be.’ 

[calisources]

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

All sentences has been taken from different media and soruces about life in the royal court, involving the introgue of succession, war, marriage, kings and queens and tournaments. Most of this are acceptable for all audience except one with some foul language. Chance names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

Ten years of shadows, but no longer. Light up the darkness, Majesty.

You don't know a woman until you've met her in court.

A queen keeps a court that is spoken about. A goddess keeps a court that is never forgotten.

And you, lady? Are you a woman of conscience or of ambition?

That's a question rarely asked here at court.

Court games aren't fair. They don't judge men by their worth, and they aren't about what's just.

We know all men are not created equal in the sense some people would make us believe .

Either you break the law, or the law breaks you.

There is no playacting in this court. If you stay your hand, they will cut it off.

Power does not pardon, power punishes.

Listen! The court jester's cap and bells. The King is coming!

He was a man with a vision- and an extraordinary vision it was.

The cat who lived in the Palace had been awarded the head-dress of nobility and was called Lady Myobu.

In every reign there comes one night of greatest blackness, when a King must send away his court of flatterers and servants, and sit alone in the dark with the beast called truth.

It is important to refuse to be intimidated.

They all come innocent in court.

Is that how you get propositioned at the court? 'Mylady, would you be so kind as to allow me to put my manhood in your vagina'?

They used to say that, in a battle between the lion and the tiger, the winner was the monkey, who watched from a distance.

Men love those creatures that need to be taken care of.

 If you want to tame a lioness you need to become a lion, not a goat. 

 A doe is easier to keep.

The woman did not care for empty compliments; to get such a woman, one needed to put forth effort.

I’m a terrible prince. I should put my kingdom first and everything else second, but your first. I want you by my side every second . . .

Once a King in Narnia, always a King in Narnia.

She calls herself the Queen of Narnia thought she has no right to be queen at all.

Plenty of people have told me you are not my father.

It is necessary for a prince to have the people friendly.”

Royalty is not a right, Captain. The willingness of the people to follow a ruler is what gives her power.

Here, in this place, by this people, I have been chosen. 

These men are tired of being told whom to follow. Now they have a choice, and they use that choice to call me Princess.

I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. 

A prince ought also to show himself a patron of ability, and to honour the proficient in every art.

You should never have been only a little girl, you should have always been a crown princess.

You knew you would be sending me away?

A born king is a very rare being.

The world will need to know that I’m the last royal left. Their queen.

There’s royalty in me, but stronger than that there is adventure.

My life is the Crown and yours is politics, and I will not trade one prison for another.

Dignity is trained into royal children before they can toddle.

The first year of marriage is not always easy, especially within the Royal Family.

The real intelligence in the royal family comes through my parents .

The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to a knowledge of the unconscious activities of the mind.

The royal road to a man's heart is to talk to him about the things he treasures most.

The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known.

The winner will marry the prince.

You want to marry my daughter? Prove yourself worthy.

That is acceptable. A king is a martyr to their ideals.

f I rule the nation as king, I cannot ask to live as a person.

A wise king never seeks out war, but... he must always be ready for it.

All men need something greater than themselves to look up to and worship. They must be able to touch the divine here on earth

I am the First Imperial Princess of the Misurugi Empire! 

You can tell she's a princess, she doesn't need a crown.

You, sir, are the most uncharming prince I have ever met! In fact, the only thing royal about you is that you are a royal pain.

No one ever told her "no." 

 In no time at flat, she'll get herself established as his official mistress, with her own rooms at the palace.

These men are my bodyguards, their lives forfeit to the guarantee of my physical safety. Of their loyalty to me, there shall be no question nor doubt.

Some balls are held for charity And some for fancy dress, But when they're held for pleasure They're the balls that I like best.

Be careful of what women with gowns plan, specially in a ballroom. 

The art of husband seeking is something every woman has been trained since birth.

Many wives and consorts, of course.

Who is to rule when I am gone? You are a princess. I have no son.

Men would sooner put the realm to the torch than see a woman ascend the Iron Throne.

Did I not mention there was another?

A king must always have an heir and a spare.

He was born to be a king... He rules men just by breathing. When he walks into a room, he commands it. People love him.

Two knights off to rescue a princess. Sounds like a great song.

As the king's brother, you should've been first in line!

 I was first in line. Until the little hairball was born.

That "hairball" is my son, and your future king.

My parents were... rather traditional. They wanted the heir and the spare, and I was left in the cold.

It cannot be easy being the youngest prince. To have others expect nothing from you, yet still shake their heads in disapproval.

 If my uncle attacks King's Landing I'll ride out to meet him.

You are in need of serious princess lessons.

 You're the new ruler of Mechanicsburg. You need to act like it.

Every princess needs a battle axe. Here. Use this one until we find you something more impressive.

You know what they used to write on cannons? The last argument of kings. I guess you could say magic is the last argument of queens.

A tournament has been arranged in your name, so you must attend and make yourself presentable.

They hope to find me a husband here. They said I am already a woman bled.

[viaoverthemoon]

Behind Closed Doors

Thank y'all for all the votes!

Let me know if you all would like more, in which I can possibly post it in parts on here!

Leon Kennedy x Fem!Reader (Medieval Universe)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: Your family's kingdom is under attack and Leon's family offers protection. Everyone thinks this is your first time seeing Leon ever since your betrothal. If only they knew...

Tw: MEDIEVAL TIMELINE AND SPEECH, some characters not from the RE-verse/they will be in later parts if y'all want it, mention of battle and injury (not detailed), fluff, SMUT, but it's kinda soft, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virginity loss, minor description of pain, fingering, orgasm denial(?), sorry the smut is long as hell, BUT ITS WORTH IT PROMISE, Sudden ending

18+!! NSFW!! MDNI!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!!

Enjoy! <3

☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.

The nature of the Kingdom of Duevaula is certainly not what you were expecting it to be.

People spoke of the lands as though it were surrounded by fires, commoners walking around subdued by chains are constantly guarded by cruel soldiers.

Instead, healthy trees grow far and wide around the kingdom, children running in the streets laughing as older kids chase them with no malice. Soldiers patrol the area, but most of them look carefree, conversating with locals and playing with the children.

"Sister? Are you alright?"

The voice of your sister pulls you from your thoughts, eyes drifting to the 12-year-old at your side as she places a hand on yours. "Yes, Nara Vella. I'm fine."

Of course, she sees right through you. "Are you certain? I know the events that took place at home may have been-"

"Nara... That is enough. Thank you for asking, but I am fine."

Nara Vella scrunches her nose, about to say more but the carriage comes to a stop and a trumpet blares.

"We're here."

You listen as The Herald announces your parents, the king and queen of The Kingdom of Islandia, but your heart can't stop pounding.

You and your sister rise just before your carriage door opens. Since you are the first born, your name is announced first.

"Announcing the firstborn Princess of The Kingdom of Islandia, (Y/N) (L/N)."

You stop out of the carriage accepting the footman's outstretched hand. All eyes are on you as your navy-blue skirts brush against the concrete, but your eyes are on one person alone.

Your sister is announced behind you, and you step forward to the man infront of you.

You drop into a curtsy. "Your highness."

He bows deeply. "My lady."

Your eyes meet his, the light of a secret hidden in your gazes. He offers an arm, and you accept it, walking with him behind both of your parents.

Prince Leon.

You were betrothed to him at the age of 6, back when your kingdoms were butting heads, resulting in a feud, and needed a way to end the hostility between them. 13 years later, everyone thinks this is the first time you've seen each other since. But it isn't.

Leon had first sent you a private letter when you were 13 years old, requesting your presence at a hidden lake that rested in the middle of your parents' territories. Your heart had raced, excited for a new adventure in life, and you immediately rushed to meet him there.

You've been seeing each other there for years, playing in the waters, having picnics in the soft grass, feeding each other strawberries and chocolates, and reading in silence. Just enjoying each other's presence.

You shared tiny kisses at the lake a few times, but never went any farther in fear of what could happen if anyone found out you'd lost your purity.

You smile at him and lower your voice. "It's been too long since I last saw you, your highness."

He hums, placing his hand on top of yours. You both know it's only been 2 weeks, but who's counting? "Yes, my lady. Far too long. I was beginning to forget the feeling of your soft lips against mine..." He lowered his head, brushing his lips against your ear. "Perhaps, when we are alone, you could remind me?"

☆

Hours later, you and your family sit in the dining room with the Kennedys. All parents, along with Leon, had been locked away in the war room for hours, discussing ways to save the Kingdom of Islandia after it was attacked by another kingdom that sought revenge against your father, the king.

You'd all barely escaped with your lives, most being unscathed, but you, your mother, and your personal guard Jill, hadn't recovered from a couple injuries. Your sister brings up this fact during dinner.

"If it wasn't for (Y/N), I would've been walking around with one leg instead of two!" She dramatically waves her hands around as you try to shush her, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

"Nara Vella! Mind yourself! We do not speak of those events at the dinner table!"

She merely giggles, whispering an apology before returning to her plate. You sigh, about to turn back to your own food, but you feel a pair of eyes on you.

You glance at Leon from across the table through your peripheral, noticing his frown.

'Are you alright?' He mouths. You smile reassuringly and nod, raising a brow and offering a teasing smile.

'Worried about me, your highness?'

He only rolls his eyes, seemingly looking at his plate but peeking up at you through his lashes. 'Always, my lady.'

☆

You sit in your chambers after dinner, trying to sew a tear in the dress you'd worn on that fateful night.

It had been washed and dried, but it suffered damage from sword and arrow grazes. And you couldn't just let it be ruined. It's one of your favorites, a gift from your mother when you finally came of age.

It held far too many memories.

A soft knock comes from your door and, suspecting it was your sister, you call to it. "Enter."

You become frustrated with the sew, accidentally pricking your finger with the needle. You curse, yanking your hand away and to your mouth.

Admittingly, the stitch is not the only thing that has you frustrated.

After the feast, you'd tried to get Leon's attention so the two of you could find a moment alone. But he was instantly pulled away by his father, who began to speak of kingly duties and war experience.

You knew that talk would take a while.

"Nara Vella, I am truly not in the mood right now. This damn stitch is going to be the death of-"

"Is this how you speak when I am not around?"

You yelp, spinning around and dropping your materials.

Leon, your betrothed, leans against your chamber doors.

He smirks at you, approaching you at a slow pace.

"How did you- I thought your father would have you occupied for a while..." You stand, wringing your hands and shifting nervously, trying not to pay any mind to his predatory gaze. He offers a teasing smirk.

"I have my ways," He steps into your space, his chest nearly touching yours, and lifts a hand. You immediately relax, nuzzling your cheek into the palm of his hand.

He hums and you sigh, relishing in the presence of one another. "You're certain? That you are not hurt?"

You sigh, placing your hand on top of his. "Yes, Leon. I really am fine."

You feel him let out an exhale, his shoulders dropping in relief. "Good. Because if anyone left lasting damage on you, I'd take the throne right now and declare-"

You smack his chest, glaring up at him. "Leon! You will not declare war on a kingdom any time soon!"

He only throws his head back and laughs, caressing your cheek with his thumb. "Alright! Relax, my lady. I only jest..." You huff a breath through your nose, staring at his deep blue eyes and wide smile.

These were the moments you truly missed.

While the both of you tried to keep visitations strictly scheduled for once a month, it was pure torture to be away from him that long.

You inhale his air, a deep, husky scent of forest mixed with wildfire.

"I have prayed and waited every night to be in your arms again. I had never known this would be the reason why..." Your other hand grasps his shirt, holding onto him so tightly one would think he might disappear.

"Dreadful circumstance or not, I finally get to see your face again..." Leon raises your chin, your eyes shifting between his eyes and his lips. "And you, finally get to remind me of your taste..."

You could swear sparks fly when your lips meet.

Hot, searing passion colliding to create a love that is hidden behind closed doors. His fingers comb through your hair, your fingernails scratch against his loose sleeve shirt.

His tongue brushes against your lips and your heart leaps, your lips instinctively opening. A gasp comes from those parted lips. Your back arches and Leon chases you, hand lowering to grip the silk material of your robes.

He parts from you all too soon, dipping his head and placing wet kisses along your neck. A moan escapes your lips and the both of you freeze, a pause filled with red hot tension.

Your nails dig into his shoulder, breaths coming out in short, quick gaps. "Perhaps-... Perhaps we should stop..."

"We should..."

And yet, no one moves.

You swallow, throat feeling tight. "If my mother-... If our families ever found out about this-"

His head leaves the crook of your neck, eyes gazing down at you with powerful determination. "They won't."

Your breathing shakes. "But- When that time comes-"

His hands grab your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. "They. Won't." His thumb strokes your bottom lip, blue eyes burning. "Do you trust me?"

Your answer is immediate. "Of course."

His lips twitch. "Good. Then know, that they will never know. And we will never be separated."

His confidence brings forth your own.

You know this decision is a big one. A lady handing a man her virtue is something that with bind her to him forever.

And while you hate the hold that purity has on the ways of society... You know Leon is the only man you would ever give yourself to.

Your eyes widen, a desperate gleam shining in them. "Take me, Leon."

☆

Your naked body shines in the moonlight, every curve and crevice on display for him, and him alone.

Leon stands at the foot of your bed, staring down at you with hazy, lust filled eyes.

You'd both stripped each other of their clothes in record time, a cluster of rushing hands and pitiful whines. You try not to stare at his... rather intimidating manhood, that stands tall and hard as rock. Albeit, he stares at you without shame.

His eyes rake over every inch over your body, starting at your ankles. Then moving to your legs, then your hips, your stomach, breasts, lips and finally your eyes. His bright blue oceans of eyes had turned into a deep dark sea, leaving you panting and burning.

You open your arms, reaching for him. "Well? Do not stand there and stare..." You somehow keep your voice steady, the whimper in your throat begging to be released.

He smirks, jerking himself a few times, before placing his hands on the bed and crawling toward you.

You hesitate, and then spread your legs. He settles between them, hot palms landing on your thighs and causing the skin to be set ablaze.

Your heart pounds in your ears, breathing turning heavy and legs shaking.

You're afraid. Excited! But afraid.

Many of the older ladies had said that their firsts were blissful, yet excruciatingly painful. But others said it was not as bad as it seems.

This left you with uncertainty, gooseflesh rising on your arms as you try your best to keep your emotions at bay.

But of course, Leon reads you like an open book.

He caresses the soft skin of your thighs, thumbs moving in small, calming circles. "You have nothing to fear, (Y/N)." He leans down, running his nose over your cheek. "Of course, I would never do anything to hurt you. It is never too late to stop-"

He barely gets the words out before your hands harshly grip his biceps. "No! I mean- um... I want this, Leon. More than anything." Your grip relaxes and you offer a reassuring smile.

He smiles back at you.

The heavy atmosphere returns when he leans down again, lips skimming your throat as his length nudges your sensitive ball of nerves.

You nearly jump out of your skin; a sharp gasp leaves you.

Leon feels your nervousness, and, luckily, knows just the cure.

A hand creeps down your body, getting lower... lower...

Until rough, calloused fingers slip between your folds.

A loud moan is quickly cut off by his lips.

Hopefully your guards aren't paying too close attention to your chambers...

Your knees bend, eyes clenching shut as Leon swallows all of your noises. His fingers work slow circles of pleasure into your clit, the sensation one you've never felt before.

Much like getting too close to a hot fire in the blazing cold of a harsh winter, it warms your insides and leaves your outside wanting more.

You throw your head back, the back of your fist flying to your mouth as you try to hold back the sounds your throat nearly let's burst out.

"Hah... Leon-..."

His name rolls from your tongue as a soft whisper, words stuttering off into a sharp inhale as his fingers graze over your soaking hole.

Your other hand grips the soft sheets, body giving in as he completely takes control. Your eyes lock with his.

He's deep in concentration, breathing shallow and sweat matting his blonde hair to his forehead.

Gaze lowering, you see the angry red color of his girth. It throbs, begging for attention while trying its hardest to sit still and look pretty.

"Nuh-uh. Eyes up here, princess." Your glossy eyes snap back to his, mouth slightly agape and brows pulled together. Leon smirks, pleased with your expression. "You can make that up to me later. But this moment, is for you."

His other hand gently removes your hand from your lips, soft sighs coated in ecstasy falling from them immediately.

The pressure builds as you roll your hips to meet his fingers. He slowly slides a finger into you, watching your expression as it shifts. He keeps another finger working on your nerves, so the one inside only adds to the pleasure.

You cry out when he adds a second one, now feeling a slight sense of discomfort, but still pleasure. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, mumbling praises. You're surprised by the sound of his voice, slurring slightly as if he'd indulged in a tin of ale.

"Good job, princess... Doing such a good- hngh~... Does that- feel good, my lady?"

Your body seems to like the sound of Leon, if the new wave of slick was anything to go by.

You feel the knot in your lower stomach tighten, your moans raising in volume as your back arches. You feel something coming. Not sure what it is, but your legs begin to shake. You wait in anticipation, every thought focused on the new stage of euphoria this feeling was going to bring... until Leon completely pulled away his hand.

You gasp, eyes snapping open. Your body falls limp as you catch your breath. "Wha-... Why-"

"I hope you do not mind if I become a little selfish, my lady..."

Your eyes snap to him, sitting up on your elbows and ready to reprimand him for denying you of your bliss, but your words are blown away.

Leon sits up on his knees, manhood curved upward in his hand as he strokes the length. Wet, sticky liquid leaks from the red tip, veins protruding from every angle.

Your air is taken away, leaving only enough to let out a sharp exhale.

"But... I want you coming undone only on my cock."

You eye him, switching between his eyes and his... cock, before nodding slowly. "Okay... Okay, Leon."

He leans down again, pressing wet kisses on your neck and cheeks, as his length glides between your folds. "I will not move until you're ready..." And then, he begins pushing himself inside.

Your nails dig into his shoulders with a gasp. His hand grips the pillows as he grunts. Both of you release soft noises of pain, holding onto each other as he continues to slowly enter you.

You hold back a scream when he finally bottoms out, doing your best to relax as to not hurt him anymore. You feel his soft kisses on your face as he apologizes continuously, hand roaming the skin of your waist as the other rubs circles into your clit again.

After what feels like forever, the pain slowly subsides and makes room for pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders loosens. You instead put them around his neck, digging your hands into his hair. "I'm ready, Leon... You can move-"

His hips snap against yours without warning.

You cry out, clinging to him as he begins to thrust into you at an animalistic rate. He grunts with every thrust, caging your body in as he loses himself.

"I have waited so long-. Please, please forgive me, sweet angel-"

Heavy panting and the smell of sex fills the air, the sound of skin meeting skin resounding within the room. Your moans and pleas do nothing to teeter the wild and rough movements of Leon's hips. He growls into your neck, holding your hips to keep you from getting away.

The knot is seconds away from snapping, but it feels stronger than it was before. Different even... Almost like you need to run to the pot. You feel overwhelmed, pushing at Leon's shoulders. "I can- I can't! It's too much- Ah! Leon-!"

The band snaps.

You scream, toes curling and back arching.

Your body pushes out a wave of liquid, most likely soiling your sheets. The feeling burns you inside and out, tensing all of your muscles and leaving you weak and trembling. You pant heavily, body still jerking from Leon roughly thrusting into you.

The after-bliss you'd once felt begins to feel uncomfortable. Overstimulated, you claw at his biceps in hopes of getting his attention.

He groans when he hears you whine. "Almost- Almost there-"

His thrusts get sloppy, his cock hitting somewhere so deep that it somehow prolongs the burn. You bite his collarbone to keep from screaming again.

It would seem that was his final push, as he pushes deep inside of you, releasing a low, husky groan and throwing his head back.

You watch as his entire body shudders, his grip on your hips tightening so much you're sure you'll have bruises in the morning.

A warm rush of liquid flows into you, seeming to be a never-ending flow as Leon falls limp, landing right beside you.

You'll definitely have to bribe your guards in the morning.

☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.☆*: .｡.

Whoops!

Sorry for ending it like that! If you guys want this to have more, let me know! I'll pick it up from here!

Let me know what you think!

Hope you enjoyed! <3

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

[greenknightofmalachite]

After the Wedding

(Study, The Dedication

Edmund Blair Leighton, 1908)

In the years since, they had never spoken of what happened in the Godswood when she found him with his dagger, but she knew he must think about it constantly. That night changed his life forever. She would never forget the sight of him kneeling in the moonlight. At first she thought he was praying. When she saw the steel in his hand, panic gripped her and she called out to him. After years of not being heard she was surprised when he looked up. Her voice in the darkness saved his life that night. If she had been even a half minute later she would have come upon his blood spilt on the grass and heard his dying words.

Instead, she was there to take his hand and pull him back from the darkness threatening to consume him. She pried his dagger from his tight grip and took his shaking bloody hands in hers. She did not flinch away from Ser Joffrey’s blood even when it was staining her hands as well. When he was done crying she gently wiped away his tears like she did for her children. She knelt in the wet grass with him without a care for her fine dress and spoke to him softly of second chances and forgiveness. After everything he confessed to her, all she knew he had done, he could not believe she found it in her heart to forgive him. But she did so without hesitation. He had thought himself completely lost but she looked upon him and somehow saw a man worth saving. That was the first time they prayed together. They prayed to The Father for the strength to push forward and when they were done, he put away his tears and swore himself into her service.

“I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

“I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”

-

It was very difficult to protect him from House Velaryon in the aftermath. Ser Laenor wanted his head, others called for The Wall. Luckily, Viserys had fallen deeply unwell at the wedding and was not in any state to interfere while she scrambled to save Ser Criston’s life. Commander Westerling tried to stop her from taking him into her service but she was the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and he could not deny her when King Viserys was not there to order him otherwise. It was the first time she had ever been able to wield her crown effectively towards her own ends.

After speaking with Westerling, she went to see her husband. He was barely conscious from the milk of the poppy and in a great deal of pain. It was horrible to see him in such a state. He might not be the man she would have chosen for herself but he was still the man she swore herself to. She promised she would help him through his illness and she had meant it. She sent Maester Orwyle on an errand and tended to Viserys like a loving wife was supposed to, gently changing his bandages and calming any agitation. Though he was barely conscious he seemed happy to see her and relieved to have her comfort. She gently held his blackened hand and told him everything would be alright. When he had a moment of clarity she seized the opportunity to sway him to mercy. He need not worry, Princess Rhaenyra was safe because of Ser Criston Cole. Ser Joffrey Lonmouth had made threats against her and their Kingsguard had done his job, albeit more brutally than was necessary.

“Do not punish a loyal knight, Viserys. Give him to me to keep our children safe and he will be far from House Velaryon.” She whispered to him. Viserys mumbled in agreement, far too weak to voice a different opinion. She thanked him for his understanding, recalled Maester Orwyle, and quickly left to secure Ser Criston’s safety before Ser Laenor could find him.

But Ser Laenor was already stalking the hallways waiting for Ser Criston to show his face. A confrontation between them could not be allowed. Ser Laenor was a dragon rider and revered warrior but he would not stand against a knight as skilled as Ser Criston. If Cole killed Laenor defending himself from his revenge she would not be able to save him from House Velaryon.

“Ser Laenor…”

“Where is he?” She had never seen him look so discomposed. He was furious, eyes red and raw from his tears. He had cleaned the blood from his face but there was still some under his chin and on his fine clothing. She might have pretended she did not know what he was talking about, a method that helped her deal with Prince Daemon when he had his fun needling her with his distasteful jokes, but Laenor was not playing games.

“Ser Laenor, congratulations on your…”

“Where is Ser Criston Cole?” He nearly shouted. “I know you know. Westerling said as much.” He gestured at the blood on her dress. “Where is he?!”

“Ser Joffrey threatened the princess in front of a Kingsguard, what did he think would happen?” She replied, trying to sound queenly.

“Ser Joffrey would not do that, I know him!” He said furiously.

“Yes, I know how well you know him.” She retorted quietly, tactfully following his lead and not using the past tense. You knew him. “If you drag Ser Criston into a duel or trial much will come to light your father wants hidden.”

“Are you threatening me?” He was hoping for an excuse to escalate but she would not let him. She kept her voice lower than his and spoke slowly and gently.

“I am telling you that pursuing revenge for your friend will bring you only trouble of your own making. Ser Joffrey is gone. He would not want you to bring yourself more pain by laying out all of your family’s secrets to the court.”

“You don’t know what he would want.” He hissed.

“I know that moving forward and facing your duty is more honorable than seeking revenge. Now is a time to make your family stronger, not weaker. You should go and tend to your new wife. My stepdaughter is surely waiting for you.” For a moment he looked bitterly hopeless at the thought of his marriage bed. She briefly felt a twinge of pity for him. She knew that feeling of sickening dread and resignation all too well.

“This is not over.” He glared at her. “Ser Criston Cole will pay for this.”

“Good night, Ser Laenor.” She forced the conversation to a close and politely took her leave, careful not to walk too quickly. She needed to look confident but her heart was hammering in her chest. She took the long way back to her chambers in case he thought to follow her.

-

“Ser Laenor is looking for you.” His face remained ashen, miserable, guilty and disgusted with himself but he did not look surprised.

“I should go and face him…”

“No.” She said at once. “Give it time. At least till tomorrow, he isn’t thinking straight. Let Rhaenyra comfort him first.” He stiffened at the mention of the princess but nodded. She sighed.

“It seems we are both meant to spend our lives here in Kings Landing with no other possible path laid ahead, as much as we might wish otherwise.” she said carefully. “We both are also in need of allies. I can protect you from Ser Laenor and House Velaryon and you can protect me and my children from…everything else.”

“Everything else?” She hesitated a moment but pushed forward. An honest conversation was what was needed here. It was passed due. She had to be clear in what she needed from him. She could not muddy the waters by speaking too cryptically. She kept her voice low, in case there was someone listening in the walls.

“You trusted me with the truth and I will do the same,” she said quietly but frankly and took a step closer. He shifted uncomfortably. “Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra will one day turn their sights on my children and they will spill their blood to secure the throne. Mine and my fathers as well for good measure. I know that now. They have grown to bitterly hate us. I have no one to help me stop this from happening. I may wear a crown but my influence here is limited, my father is banished and my husband...my husband is willfully blind to the conflict in our family. Only you have defeated Daemon in combat, I fear only you can help us.”

“I am not worthy of your confidence, your grace. I have done…terrible things…why would you trust me with your children?” He nervously wiped his palm on his trousers subconsciously, as if Ser Joffrey’s blood still stained his hands.

“It is only decent people who feel shame, Ser Criston. Only a penitent heart deserves forgiveness. Do you think Rhaenyra regrets anything that she does? Do you think she has shed a single tear for the hurt she has caused?”

“Probably not.” She shook her head in agreement.

“Sometimes I think that must be an easier way to live but you and I are not made that way. I am grateful for that. And I would be grateful to have you in my household. When you told me the truth last week you proved yourself a better man than you believe yourself to be. We all make mistakes but those missteps do not need to define us if we strive to be better.”

“Thank you, your grace.” He still looked sad. She hesitated but then went and slowly sat where she had when he confessed to her. He stood before her and did not sit beside her again.

“I used to think my friendship with Rhaenyra would be enough to protect me and my family.” She said gently. “She was my closest friend, for years and years. I thought she always would be. But we have both seen what friendship means to her. We should have seen it sooner, before she could hurt us. But now we know the truth; we are not important to her. If we are both to survive here we need to protect ourselves and each other.” He nodded miserably. “When you swore yourself to me you did not know what you were stepping into, I apologize for that but my family sorely needs you and your sword.” He nodded again then knelt before her.

“My sword is yours, your grace.”

[on-leatheredwings]

i've found your account only a few days ago but ever since then I've been STUCK here rereading your fanfics, especially ones with damian. i wasn't even a dc fan (heard about some stuf, watched some films and cartoons, but that's it) but now im reading comics since im Obsessed and need more batboys in my life (rip my productivity😔)

Anyway, after Sleepover i'm curious what will Bruce (and maybe even Thalia) think of batboys strange behaviour towards reader. He's smart, so he definitely notices it early on, but how he'll react....

I can see him being weirded out (like he was by Jason's anger issues, before his death), but he also can be an enabler, since Robin (literaly any of them) had a hard life, so if those relationships can help him why not pretend that everything is normal? you'll be safer in a Wayne's Manor anyway

All in all, thanks for a new hyperfixation 💞💞

P.s. About games:

1. Boyfriend to death 1&2 - since you're into yanderes you might want to check this game out. I prefer the second game, but the first is also fun. But beware the trigger warnings!!

2. Long live the Queen - more of a raising sim than dating sim but you still can romance some guys and girls.

,3. Hatoful Boyfriend - mostly a comedy, but there is a yandere.

4. The Royal Trap - it's been a long time since i played it, but it used to be one of my favorites so i'll just mention it.

5. Higurashi - once again not really a romance sim, but its an interesting horror mixed with a slice of life

;A; AWWWW THANK YOU IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE MY STUFF.... THAT MAKES ONE OF US GIJSDOFAFGHFOJDSD

and yes yes get into DC!!! (girl who hasnt even read a full run since like. injustice)

damn now you got me thinking and excited. incoming spiel

i agree entirely about bruce just knowing how Bad things can get, so to make things simpler, he's like "yes, your darling(s) can stay in the manor, boys. 🙄"

mmm yes..... when it comes to bruce noticing the batboys are yandere, i think it's always sinfully delightful to just have him be reluctantly okay with it. 😈 it's also easier narratively ngl but i also like the idea that the batfam is all just corrupted.

bruce's thoughts are that they (his sons) fight for vengeance and justice but this is where they could use some leeway.... we all need our vice... they fight so hard for gotham, they deserve a little treat (getting rid of your human rights)... it's very "Dad who wants his sons to have happiness even if its not healthy" of him. in fics where bruce is a yandere, well, he's the exact same way so he can't judge. although if that's the case, i like the idea of bruce just being like "yes what we do isn't right. let's not talk about it. just don't kill <3"

still wondering what i like more. a yan!bruce who's self aware what he's doing is wrong but he just refuses to think about it. or a yan!bruce that justifies it all because of his paranoia, Tower of Babel style (if you don't know, that's when it's revealed batman has plans to subdue/kill the justice league just in case they go rogue.)

for the batboys depends on their personality... for damian, he's so resolute in things that i prefer when he just believes 100% what he's doing is okay, if not actually righteous. ^_^

hmmm talia.... I'M STILL UNSURE HOW I PREFER THAT AS WELL... i think talia being a you-arent-good-enough-for-my-son mom is a little cliche but also. she kinda would say that. you'd have to prove your worth somehow but idk how tf darling would do that LOL. in the end, i think talia is just relieved/comforted that her son indeed feels desire and wants love and will continue the family legacy (regardless if youre afab/can biologically have children.)

no THANK YOU FOR THE ASK!!! AND THANKS FOR RECS!!!! heheh yeah ive checked out btd and im not averse to the warnings its more like im not that most of into the designs ngl. fox guy seems cute? AND LMAO FUNNY BC IM ON A HIGURASHI REWATCH (never played it tho)

[girllookingoutwindow]

I might be wrong but wasn't it LW that named Daphne a diamond of the first water, bc the Queen said she was flawless? Therefore launching her as the most desired woman in the ton. And starting the whole a "diamond" needs to be named? Then I've always thought in season 2 LW timed her edition to come out as Eloise is presented, specifically to interrupt the proceedings because she knew Eloise was uncomfortable. And the Queen would be completely distracted sometime before Eloise had to go through. Could be wrong but with LW I'm reminded of the song "one night in Bangkok" bc of the line "thank God I'm only watching the game, controlling it." I love when Violet finds the tea on Lord B, and says "we'll talk" bc it's what women do. A flurry of gossip later It saved Daphne from a horrible fate of a loveless marriage to that gross man (he used his status to get a servant of his pregnant and then abandons her and the child. Was this servant girl allowed to even say no to her employer with power? To preserve her innocence/reputation). It seems as if it's the only way a woman could influence her life or make a change.

Also Pen often sets the rumors straight, when others go too far in their speculation and it could blow up as something else entirely. The ton trusts LW's word bc she didn't lie. If she hadn't said what she'd said about Eloise it could have been worse. It softened the social blow, it was merely a smaller transgression though, not as bad as her and her whole family ruined which if it had been exposed elsewhere it would have. The men would have been fine but the the others prospects of marriage would have been damaged or non existent. Same with Marina, the Featherington's had to be socially distanced from even knowing what she was up to, or they would be ruined. It wasn't that she was cruel to Marina, to me, but loves her sisters enough to save them from what Marina did (I can understand her motives, but her cruelty towards Pen and callous way she marked Colin as an easy target upset me). My favorite real life example of how people gossip that could be good, is Georgiana, the Duchess of Devonshire. Married at 17 in the 1770s, to "the only man in England not in love with his wife" and she was the main Whig party hostess, meetings, parties, and she even canvassed for votes. Parlor room behind the scenes politics. But the downside to gossip is that opposing sides will try to defame through gossip too, and caricature depicting the Duchess as an indecent woman who'd kiss men for votes in order to get Fox elected. That's a very quick overview of an amazing, yet flawed woman (her gambling). But it demonstrates for me at a time when women had very few rights, if you were in a higher social class, through gossip you can start change. Georgiana, as a Whig hostess, as a fashion icon of her time, a woman with the "common touch" very popular with the people, even though she was "her Grace" helped gain traction for her causes, wider rights, abolition and supported American colonial independence during the war. Whether it's a bigger or smaller issue, gossip can be both good and bad. The only time I really dislike it is when it's used to just purposely hurt others, instead of informing or questioning social outdated norms, its just a personal attack designed to hurt someone cruelly (Cressida making remarks about how many children Violet had and what that meant about her and her family...ooo I was not ok with Cressida there or her mama lol) .

I think Pen is sometimes judged too harshly, she'd been ridiculed and ignored in a society that already didn't value her as much as a man. Her future prospects to Her seemed dim, bc all Her life..... words like what Marina said, have been said to Her. Her worth was her family's good name and who she married, how much money they had. So she took some control and power for herself in the only way she could. Through gossip. Sorry I've rambled so long! This is an interesting topic though. 😊

Hi, anon.

I love this analysis. I agree with everything you said here.

I think I'm going to rewatch season specially because of this topic. I want to do an analysis about the nature of gossip and how affect the characters. Maybe more of one part because I think it's going to be long.

I think gossip has a force and doesn't need to be bad. It's neutral and it can show the real nature of the person who's using it. And like you said, Pen never lies. She says the truth, sometimes she even gave proof and her intentions were always good. She does it because nobody else want to see it. Nobody wants to listen the truth, she tried, and nobody was listening to her.

Colin never wanted to see Marina didn't loved him, because he didn't care, because he didn't loved her either. He was lying to himself. Eloise didn't want to see why Pen wrote about her, because she didn't wanted to accept Pen advertised about it many times, and she didn't listen. Daphne and Violet were practically saved by her, the marriage for Daphne, the Violet's reputation. We have so many moments of her helping them.

Gossip is a tool. A tool used women without any other weapon to protect themselves. I think it's a relationship between the female aspect of it and why society sees it like something wrong. Because words can hurt, and yes, they can be used to shame, and make damage, but gossip is a the weapon of the people who's not going to be heard otherwise.

Thank you so much for you message.

[outofangband]

Textual significance of Morwen being accused of witchcraft

Aka the essay draft I’m posting earlier than I should be because I wanted to post this on my birthday

my tag for this topic is word ran among them where there are way too many posts. I’ve written at length about the implications in universe and real life connotations but here are some thoughts on why Tolkien chose to include this detail in The Silmarillion and The Children of Húrin

This is my first draft of this, written as bullet points. I’m going to make a more essay style version with more sources. Pretty much all of these I have posts about, and as I said, I’m very fixated on this topic so I’m definitely looking forward to elaborating a lot of this

I actually have studied the history of witchcraft accusations and their sociopolitical contexts for years and I’m so happy it’s going to such great cause :/

cw: discussion of misogyny both in universe and historical

It’s also worth mentioning that while these accusations didn’t exist in the very first drafts of The Children of Húrin, such as the book of lost tales version, they exist in pretty much every version that Morwen herself exists in as Morwen (that is, not in the book of lost tales versions or versions of The Lay where her name is different)

-It makes Morwen’s situation precarious when her survival is needed for the plot and the doom; she’s hated and feared and shunned but not directly attacked due to that fear. She’s alive but in danger, poverty and isolation.

It also puts the reader in fear for her. Good things do not happen to women who are accused of witchcraft

Witch hunts and witch trials are events that bring cruelty, paranoia and betrayal. The invoking of this adds to the bleak atmosphere of post Nírnaeth Hithlum. The phrasing, “word among them” or rumor ran among them, depending on the version , adds to this atmosphere of paranoia and whispers, and not knowing who to trust.

-It highlights the regressive beliefs of her accusers*. and emphasizes certain aspects of Morwen’s character. Morwen is very clearly not a witch. She is however a severe and intelligent woman who canonically challenges the men around her.

She’s also presumed to be a widow. Historically, especially when women were thought to be the property of their husbands, it has often been unmarried women and widows who were persecuted as witches*

The exact reasons given in the text are somewhat vague. “But so great was the beauty and majesty of the Lady of Dor-lómin that the incomers were afraid and whispered among themselves that she was perilous and a witch skilled in magic”, “proud and fair as a queen she was…Witchwife they called her and shunned her”. These descriptions alongside other descriptions of Morwen’s personality and countenance can easily track with commonalities among women who have historically been accused; she is fiercely independent, blunt in her words and proud.

“These were women given to speaking out, to a bold tongue and independent spirit. It is no surprise that such unwelcome, even feared speech, could be mistaken for wicked enchantment”Mona Chollet wrote in a recent nonfiction book on the history and legacy of witch hunts.

-Morwen specifically being related to the elves (“he had thought that he looked in the fell eyes of an elf”, “word ran among them that she was perilous and a witch who had dealings with the elves”, “Witchwife it is but elf friend in the new language”) also is used to show how deeply Melkor has managed to turn human and elven populations against each other

I cannot say if Tolkien intended this but this aspect mirrors a common theme in witch hunts historically. I talked about this before but many if not most accused women were accused of either obtaining their alleged powers through communion with non humans or otherwise engaged with them.

I have…way too many posts about this specific connection

-I also definitely want to do more about what exactly the lore is for witches in first age Beleriand, what it’s believed they are and what it’s believed they can do

-Morwen being feared by the occupiers mean that she is largely left alone by them. She’s still suffering, we know there were times that she and Niënor nearly starved, and its implied she faces harassment and intimidation but despite the doom on Húrin’s family, she is able to resist being driven from Hithlum for decades.

Morgoth canonically sews dissent, mistrust and prejudice. The prejudice of the occupiers here has the potential to interfere with Morgoth wanting to use Húrin’s family to hurt him. This fits neatly into Tolkien’s themes of evil hindering itself.

-It highlights her as a cultural outsider. It is specifically Morwen, a refugee and exile who is accused of having sinister powers and alliances with an enemy. I think this is especially interesting because, in the earlier version of The Children of Húrin, the occupiers were comprised largely of men from Hithlum

-It adds to the power of her character and makes parallels with other confrontations and struggles with villains that members of her family have. It’s easy to parallel for example the lines about Húrin not being daunted by Morgoth’s eyes or Niënor staring down Glaurung with the encounter between Morwen and Brodda. And while it is true that he might not be quite as powerful or dangerous as Morgoth or Glaurung, if he kills or hurts her, she’s going to be just as dead or traumatized as she would be if he were a god or dragon. Her courage is extraordinarily powerful and harrowing. Does this make sense?

Anyways happy birthday to me, thank you for reading all of this and for your patience with my rambling which I have done so much of on this topic and will continue to do more of

End note: I wanted to add another note about how the position Morwen is in can also be used to show Aerin’s bravery in helping her; Aerin takes great risks to help her people and the danger she faces for her aid to Morwen is even more extreme; she faces extreme physical abuse for it. But I have several posts about this already and I think it deserves its own post

Sources

Fearless Wives and Frightened Shrews: The Construction of the Witch in Early Modern Germany

Mona Chalet, Stacy Schift

[alostlovergirl]

The Marriage

(Not my gif)

Summary: Feelings are developing rather quickly

Tags: Loki being a cutie, wedding, probably inaccurate descriptions, fluff, and some slight tension.

Notes: This goes by pretty fast, but I hope you guys enjoy it.

Part two to Marriage of Convenience. Pt 3: The Sex

In an instance, her life was completely uprooted and her little home in the middle of the city was sold to another family. It was a lot for her, and Loki made sure to make it worth her while. The two of them spent every night in his room, doing various things that they used to do as children all the time.  She didn’t sleep in his room, but being able to hang out or pop up on her best friend when he is doing his duties is fun. Like now, she is currently watching him fill out an order for their wedding. Traditional decorations and colors consume his mind, not noticing his ‘fiancé’ coming up to his desk. To her, he seemed stressed and less like himself throughout this whole thing. She smiles, walking behind the God, her footsteps silenced by her lack of shoes. She wraps her arms around his shoulders, pressing against him and feeling his back muscles tense slightly before he leans into her touch. The two of them were getting closer, planning the wedding together, but they remain adamant to themselves that they weren’t getting closer than being friends in a weird situation.

They were lying hard to themselves, especially Loki, who was starting to think about things he never thought about. He thought about their life together... and couldn’t exactly remember if she looked that good in a night gown before this. He caught himself multiple times looking over every inch of her eyes watching her curves move as she walked down the hall with him, acting as if she was Queen. Even now he finds himself hard to focus on his work with her soft hands on his chest. “You are stressed, buddy…” She coos, patting his chest and pulling back a bit. Her concern fills him with a sense of warmth, looking back at her and seeing her still walking around the castle in her nightie. A nightie that curved around her hips so flawlessly, showing every dip and dive. She had a little pouch of fat and her breast hung perfectly considering that she was wearing no bra. She looked like a goddess to him, and the public loved her. “Prince Loki’s perfect wife.” They would say, saying how she matched him so well.

“You are already acting like a wife, you know?” He smiles, pushes back his chair and stands up with a tired grunt. She looked up at him, standing on her tippy toes unconsciously.

“I am not allowed to worry about the friend I have to marry in a month?” she was teasing him, that sweet smile on her face. He cups her face in his cold palms and kisses her forehead in a friendly gesture... but that’s not what it felt like to her. She felt a certain tension set into the room when he did that. Her hands rested on his broad chest, keeping eye contact with him, really letting the tension set in more in the room. “You are...” He says, breaking the quietness in the room, hands still holding her face. “It’s just cute that you are already acting like this… you are really committed to this act.”

The way he spoke… it felt like he was causing this tension on purpose. When he started smiling, eyebrows dropping a bit and looking at her with half lidded eyes… yeah, he was doing this shit on purpose. She couldn’t pull away from him though. She was feeling something... more or so her panties becoming more soaking wet for her best friend. His icy eyes were piercing through her soul, watching every reaction she let come through. Her breath quickened a bit before he broke the air in the room by picking her up and tossing her over his shoulder, making her laugh. “Then we can go play a board game. I need a break anyways...”

“As long as you don’t cheat this time!”

“Oh, I’m going to cheat.”

Those nights were always so fun. Loki would spend the day planning the wedding and she would act as his fiancé in public, but in private, she would pull him away from the most important works, wanting to play and run around the castle like they were still children, not realizing the change their friendship was about to encounter.

As the wedding planning continued, she could feel the connection as friends dissolving, but she insisted in her mind that nothing is changing. They were still the best of friends, and her mind couldn’t convince her otherwise. Loki on the other hand, was letting his mind come with different things. His mind was swirling with thoughts about his supposed friend. He had always thought she was attractive before this, but spending so much time with her, was really making him appreciate her. She was a godsend. She cares so much about him, forcing him to go to bed or not allowing himself to overwork himself with minimal breaks. The kisses in public, when they know they are being watched by the people, he wishes they last longer. He must look like a man starved as they shop for her wedding silks to make her dress with. Feeling all of this, he couldn’t pinpoint what was making his feelings change for her. He was just appreciative of her and the way she is. He couldn’t possibly be breaking the promise he made to her. He wouldn’t.

The day finally came along. After months of planning, she was getting dressed for her wedding. She and Loki had been separated a few days before, apparently a tradition for the bride and groom in Asgard. She was missing him more than she should, considering that he was still in the castle, just locked away somewhere putting the final touches to their wedding with his advisors. The wedding was opened to the public, so many civilians walked around the castle, peering into rooms they weren’t supposed to be in. She felt incredibly nervous, wanting nothing more than to feel the comfort of her friend as a servant tightened her corset. The dress was gorgeous, lace and silk all picked out by Loki, him knowing exactly what his friend would feel comfortable in. This marriage was a fake thing. A simple stunt to get out of an arranged wedding by Loki, but she felt some emotions swirling throughout her body, mostly the question of how would their life go? She wanted kids and Loki might never give it to her because of the promise he made to her.

She hates to say it, but she was giving up the rest of her life to find a husband to love her and marrying a man that she wasn’t even supposed to love. She wasn’t even sure if he would ever love her. Why was she thinking about this? Did she love her best friend and wasn’t admitting it to herself? Why was she so worried? Anybody would love to spend their life with their best friend… but maybe now, she isn’t thinking about Loki as a best friend; she was thinking about him as a husband... a man that she was about to marry and be with for the rest of her life.

“We are done, my Queen.” The servants have resorted to calling her Queen now, no longer her name, but their Queen. Her life has changed so much as she takes the servant’s hand, stepping down from the platform. She held a bouquet of colorful flowers, something that Loki put so much thought into. It was a bunch of pretty flowers that his mother grew for her, since she used to pick them when they were kids. The heels were comfortable, a softer sole sewn into them, and her hair was left down with braids that were decorated with the same flowers. Loki always knew how to make her feel pretty, in raggedy clothes or clothes he picked out for her to wear.

She is led down the hall, to the doors that open the garden. Loki insisted on an outside wedding, at night. He didn’t like the sun on his cold skin and nights in Asgard are just so pretty. ‘He put way too much thought into this…’ she couldn’t help to think as she waited for the music to start playing. A few too many flower girls and Loki’s walk down, it was time for her. She wished that her dad could walk you down, but he was too sick, so she settled for a servant to walk her. The heavy doors are opened, feeling the nerves burst in her stomach as she was met with gleaming eyes. The music played and holding her dress up slightly, she made her way down the aisle, unable to look into anyone’s eyes or lift her head. She could feel everyone’s stare on her as it was quiet, other than the occasional kid squealing. She lifts her head, needing to focus on something before she became overwhelmed with tears, of what emotion? She wasn’t sure. She was feeling way too many things at once. She was scared, happy, unsure, mostly scared for her future... but all of that disappeared when she made eye contact with her ‘friend.’ He had this big smile on his face, seeming like he was trying to hold it back. When she was passed onto him, she entrapped her in his blue eyes, holding her hands. There was something unreadable in his eyes, like that time in his office. She could barely hear the officiant, as she could feel herself relaxed in his presence. Of course, she has felt this way before, but never like this. Never so intense.

The wedding moves by fast, vows spoken in soft voices. Even the ‘I do’s’ went by fast. As the words, “You may kiss your bride.”, came out the officiant’s mouth, he kissed her. This kiss felt different from the proposal, deeper and something more laced into it. His brother and your older sister, who was your bridesmaid, pushed you into each other, bodies touching each other as the garden erupted into claps and loud cheers for the new rulers of Asgard. His horned crown touched her forehead slightly as he deepened the kiss before finally pulling away with heavy breaths. A crown has been placed upon her head, one made of gold and flowers. She licked her lips, tasting the snack that Loki must have had before the ceremony. Before she could react to anything else, he hoisted her up into his arms, carrying her down the aisle. She yelps, holding onto his broad shoulders, laughing a bit, confused on why he was acting more loving than usual. Maybe it was the relief of having the burden of finding a wife lifted off his chest.

It wasn’t that. Loki wasn’t sure himself why he was acting like this, but he just felt happy. He couldn’t pinpoint a reason… or maybe his mind wasn’t accepting a reasoning for why he was so happy, but at last… it was time to eat and celebrate. Especially before his stomach started to eat itself.

The reception hall was decorated beautifully, music being played rather loudly, but Loki and his new ‘wife’ had snuck away from the party. They sat on a bench, watching the moon decorate the sky. “So… we are married.” Loki starts, stating the obvious with a smile on his face. She nods, looking at him and perfect smile, feeling a warm feeling gathered at the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve done you a great service.” She jokes, slipping her hand into his for some friendly hand holding. “You look incredibly handsome, friend.”

She saw his shoulders deflate a bit, smile faltering before fixing itself back. “You looked beautiful… as always.” he says, pushing her hair back. She leans into his touch, feeling closer to the God, more than ever. She reaches up to his crown, taking off the heavy crown and putting it on the ground. He watched her intently, watching her every movement, wondering where this would go. He felt her fingers run through his hair, fluffing it out and hummed with pleasure, eyes closed.

“What has been going on between us?” She questioned, hands resting at the back of his neck. “I am feeling things... that I shouldn’t feel for you, Loki. We married as friends… not lovers…”

He didn’t respond. He opened his eyes, that same unreadable look. He leaned forward, kissing her again, but this time, he was pulling her in closer, desperate to suck the air out of her lungs. His cold hands grasped at her face, needing her to feel what he feels right now. He was in love. He was lovesick. He loved his best friend and might have always did, considering how fast his feelings were growing for her over the months. As soon as he was proposed with an arranged marriage, his mind and body led him to hear, still not accepting the condition of his feeling for her. He realized why he was so happy during the wedding. He felt free to express himself and not hold back any longer.

She was surprised by the kiss but, wasted no time in kissing him back with the same amount of fervor. He laid her back on the bench, hands on her sides. He pulled back, breathing heavily. “No more friend… I don’t want to be your friend no more. I want to be your husband… your love… your everything…” He admitted, head pressed against hers. His confession made her feel a range of emotions, but a lot of relief. She hadn’t given up her life to man that would never love her… never hold her… she had a man who wanted her, and it was someone who knew her inside and out. She kissed him again, wrapping her arms around him. These feelings had progressed so quickly that she hoped her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.

Loki’s cold hands traveled up her dress, holding onto her bare thighs. He moved his kisses to her neck and collarbone, leaving marks all over her untouched skin. She was breathless, watching him admire and appreciate every part of her body. “Loki… I don’t think the garden is the best idea…” She pants, watching him look at her with wide eyes. She sees him think about it before he gets up, pulling her to her feet.

His little mischievous smile appears on his face before he leads her into the castle for some more fun.  

[aladaylessecondblog]

Return II

Author's Note: Sadara goes to Kvatch AU.

-------------------

If there was one thing Sadara missed, it was colors.

She'd spent so long in the Red Mountain region, and then in that little room at the Argonian Embassy that she'd almost forgotten there could be more to the world than red, brown, black, and gray.

The green, rolling hills, the ivy over walls. The blue sky stretching out overhead, the ocean or lakes beneath. The West Weald as she passed it, the beauty of the Gold Coast.

It was not what she felt with Voryn, this sensation of being where she was supposed to be, but there was still a sense of rightness, that soon twisted painfully. If only, she thought, if only she could have him here. But he would never leave Morrowind - he thought little of anything beyond the confines of that province, barely left the Heart Chamber, much less Red Mountain itself!

She had been safe there, perhaps, but towards the end she had felt rather like a princess from a fairytale locked in a tower, tucked away and secluded from nearly everything that made life worth living.

What kind of life would that have been for her and little Sunnar? Queens of the dead. Ladies of a House both feared and reviled, served by monsters and ghouls.

Could you not have thought of this before you let him put the babe in you?

The trip to Kvatch took another day to finish, and by then Sadara was more than ready to walk again. The carriage had been mostly empty, but still, carrying as much in the way of gold and valuables as she did it made her nervous. It was a small fortune to her.

"We will make our own way," she said again, under her breath.

Sunnar mewled to be fed in response.

---------------------------------------

The owner and publican of the Dragon's Roost inn was an elderly Bosmer woman named Galawen that despite being four feet high on days she didn't have to stoop and who weighed less than a hundred pounds was a veritable force of nature.

Sadara had taken a temporary job there cleaning up, easy enough to do with a babe in a sling around her neck, and was witness to a lot of the woman's antics.

She did not keep Pact, although no one seemed to say anything to her about it. She turfed out drunks with the strength of someone half her age and twice her size...and Sadara envied her greatly for the strength of her personality.

"You're a force to be reckoned with," she said to Galawen, "I've never seen so many men tell me to be careful around someone that wasn't some sort of obvious threat. You seem nice, but...I have never had the best judgment."

"Bah, the drum making would leave too much evidence...oh! Who is THIS?"

The woman's expression changed on sight of Sunnar, who was currently engaged in gumming her mother's fingers.

"My daughter," Sadara said with a smile, "She's quieter than most babes I've seen. I hope she hasn't been an annoyance."

"Of course not!" Galawen gave her own smile, "Are you stopping here on the way to Anvil?"

"No, I...we're hoping to make Kvatch our home," she said, "I had hopes of opening an alchemy shop, but that seems to be a family enterprise, though the Temple is happy to get the occasional healing potion off me."

"You have the money to open a shop? Why are you working here, then?"

"I was poor once...and it brings in money." Sadara shrugged. "I want to have something coming in, in case the worst should happen and I should happen to lose what I've got."

It was a habit she would never kick, she was sure.

Over the next few months she and Galawen had this conversation many more times, and eventually, the little Bosmer had a proposition.

"Why don't you buy this inn from me?"

"Why should you want to sell it?" Sadara asked. "I'm not sure I'd have quite the sum necessary for it in any case. A small shop maybe, but an entire inn?"

"I'm not getting any younger, and I never had children," Galawen said, "I've got no one to pass it to, and I don't want the city to turn it into a barracks."

Eventually they worked it out that Sadara would get the inn for a reduced price, and be officially listed as the new owner. Galawen would slowly hand duties over to her as she was less able to do them, and be provided for in her dotage.

Sadara did not relax, but it eased her mind a little to know the matter of income was settled.

Fortunate, because she had felt unable to sing with the enthusiasm she'd always had before. She still practiced to not lose her skill, but instead of music flowing from her fingertips and out through the lute, she could find no happiness in the exercise.

------------------------------------

The small shrine she had built to her ancestors in the corner of the room she shared with Sunnar had yielded nothing. She felt the definite presence of someone, but with the same sensation of speaking to a crowd with their backs turned.

They saw her, but they refused to acknowledge her.

She supposed she could understand, but continued to make offerings anyway.

Forgive me, she prayed there as she did in the chapel of Akatosh, Please forgive me for what I could not do.

There was never any answer, no voice to give a comforting word in this pain that no one seemed to share.

Or so she thought.

Sunnar sat before the shrine late one evening months later, giggling and waving her hands at something unseen. A few steps closer, and Sadara heard it: a male voice, strong, firm, singing a song of some kind.

"Nu kan, nu kan, nu kan metanane anya..."

The words were Ald Chimeris, and Sadara had a vague feeling she'd heard them before.

"We dare, we dare, we dare to choose life," the male voice went on. It stopped and she saw--just the faintest shimmer, the slightest outline.

"Are you one of my ancestors?" she finally found the courage to ask.

"In a sense." The figure became clearer, and smiled at her. Suddenly it was clear. She had seen his face before...laid out in metal.

"...Nerevar?"

She was on the point of dropping to her knees when he spoke to stop her.

"Why should you kneel?"

"To beg your forgiveness, as I have to do with the others," Sadara said, "For failing to--to--"

She gulped, to stop the tears from rising.

"You did not want to murder one whom you came to love. I would not have been able to do it either, for all the jabbering the Temple likes to do." He gave another smile when she picked up Sunnar, and made a face at the babe. He was rewarded with more giggling. "You'll have to forgive me...I never had children, though I desperately wanted them."

"It's--I don't mind." Sadara gave a weak smile. "What would you do, now, in my place?"

"If things were different, I would pray to Azura for guidance," he replied, "But she refuses me now, as I am sure she does you."

"I have heard nothing since 'you have earned what you will get, failed incarnate!'" Sadara lowered her head. "She would scold me now and then while I was...in Red Mountain, before I left, but..."

"She boils in inaction, and bursts with rage. It is her way, much as she does not like people to know of it."

"But what shall I do?"

"Live," Nerevar said faintly, "And whatever comes, know that I will be with you."

Sadara reveled in Nerevar's spectral embrace, the first touch of its kind she had felt in over a year.

Whatever would come, at least she was not alone.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Raven! I have two theories about diasomnia (I'm trying to keep this short, really– sorry for the rant)

1. What if what Lilia was refering to as "being too reckless during his youth" was actually giving part of his magic so Malleus's egg would hatch?

At first I thought it would be something to do with the war, but after thinking a bit more about it, I thought perhaps it was actually that what drained his magic and life span so much. Like, imagine after Malleus' parents die his grandmother spends years and years trying to give the egg the love and magic it needs to hatch, but it never worked. During that time perhaps Lilia grows more "tender" with the whole situation and ends up giving a good part of his magic, which ends up making the egg hatch, but not having as much magic as a dragon fae it is what takes a toll on him (in this, it could be argued that in this situation there would have been a dragon fae and a other type of fae giving love and magic, such as it would have been with his parents, but maybe it is actually the fact that they weren't the egg's parents what made it take more effort? It would also be similar to how in the Maleficent movie she goes from hating children to her love being the reason the curse is broken)

2. Maleficia(?) Was the one what cursed either Silver or his ancestors

Imagine this. The queen not only lost the war and a good part of her country to her enemies, but also her only daughter and her grandson on the process (at least until many years later). She then hears the news about the princess of the enemies and the Dawn knight(?) Having a child and with all the pain she was going through, she refused to let them be happy. So she appears in a scene similar to the one Maleficent made and curses either Silver (if he himself was their child and somehow the curse kept him sleeping as a newborn baby) or his ancestors (in "a child for a child" sort of way). Either way, years later Silver somehow ends up on Lilia's hands and Maleficia decides that his family's sins aren't his, and it is what remains of the curse what makes him so tired all the time (I think it is more likely that it was his ancestors rather than Silver because otherwise Lilia would know why he is like that and wouldn't have taken him to many doctors as it is mentioned)

Hi hi, no worries ^^ I love hearing theories and general TWST-related rambling!

My thoughts are under the cut for huge main story spoilers!

It's not the first time I've heard theory 1 being talked about or brought up in discussions of book 7 (post-part 4). I'm not sure if I personally agree with it though??? I suspect the story will explain the few hundred years' worth of difference between Malleus's egg existing and hatching, but I'm not sure why Lilia would be the one responsible for bringing his prince into the world. Maybe he felt like it was now his duty to honor the princess he couldn't protect and the duke/best friend who went missing. Maybe he thought looking after their surviving child was the way he could honor their memory and the friendships he had with them. I buy either of those explanations. What I don't buy is why wouldn't Malleus's grandmother's love and magic be enough to hatch him? She's also a Draconia, and therefore is related to Malleus by blood and has all the mighty powers of their bloodline; wouldn't her magic be much more effective than Lilia's to help her grandson hatch (and she's also clearly still alive and seems to be doing alright in present time)? Unless maybe there's some other factors or details we aren't privy to yet that would contest this...?

Regarding theory 2, I think the concept of "an eye for an eye" (or, in this case, "a child for a child") is an interesting one? 🤔 I don't think Silver is directly the son of the Dawn Knight because (as far as we know) there's no magic that can stop someone from aging, and that includes sleeping curses. One danger that is noted by the characters is that if everyone stays under the effects of Malleus's UM for too long, their physical bodies will waste away (which implies that not even slumber can stave off their physical needs that come with the passage of time). Cursing a whole family line in revenge though... Knowing that the Draconias can do frightening things, especially under emotional distress, uhhhh... yeah, that's completely plausible. However, I don't know why Lilia wouldn't be aware of it, seeing as he seems to know Maleficia well and she trusts him with things. Surely he can't be ignorant to it??? I'm not sure if I see Maleficia as being particularly... forgiving either?? We may not know a lot about her personality, but if she's anything like the rest of the Draconias we've been told about, then she may just hold a grudge instead of seeing Silver as an innocent child.

Something else that's interesting is that, at one point, Vil explains how curses work: once the conditions are set, not even the curse spinner can lift it until said conditions are met. I wonder if a sleeping curse was cast on Silver's ancestors where really specific conditions have to be in place for the curse to be dispelled; this would explain why Lilia keeps taking him to doctors/medical mages: he's trying in vain to seek an alternate way to lift the curse. Maybe Lilia knew this whole time that Silver was cursed but couldn't bring himself to speak the truth to his son (especially seeing as Silver has become Malleus's bodyguard and would then have to come to terms with knowing that an ancestor of his killed his prince's mother).

Crazy thought, but what if it's not Maleficia that cursed Silver's bloodline but... Mallenoa (Malleus's mom) who did it??? If we think about it, Lilia has described her to have a temperament and great destructive power. An enraged dragonic princess trying to protect her unborn child from belligerent invaders... It works on a symbollic level too: the humans are ambushing her when she's in a vulnerable position and her child is still "sleeping". So what would she, someone who is reckless and selfish, do with the last of her magic and dying breath?? Maybe... curse the Dawn Knight and his descendants with narcolepsy--narcolepsy that's so bad that it constantly puts them in a vulnerable position... sleeping? Then, because Mallenoa ultimately ends up dying, the original curse spinner is gone from this world. She can't lift the curse because she's dead, which means the only viable way left now is for Silver to fulfill the original conditions for it. (Will a parental "act of true love" do it??? Just like it did in Maleficent?) This, again, would play well with the idea that Lilia is searching for a cure for Silver (and feels a lot of secret guilt over knowing the origin of the curse).

Anyway! That's my rambling done and over with~

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

"You told me it was our duty to hold the realm united against a common foe. By naming me heir, you divided the realm. I thought I wanted it. But the burden is a heavy one. It’s too heavy. If you wish for me to bear it, then defend me. And my children." 

Episodes 8

What is your opinion on this speech?

Rhaenyra is absolutely correct that Viserys divided the realm when he named her heir, despite telling her it was her duty to hold the realm united, and that he placed a heavy burden on her shoulders and didn't do a whole lot for her in terms of practical support. I think it's interesting that the show chose to highlight how neither Rhaenyra nor Aegon particularly want to rule. I think for show!Rhaenyra, it makes a good deal of sense. I always got the sense that if Viserys had disinherited her, show!Rhaenyra's pride would be wounded, but she would probably be at least a tiny bit relieved. It's that same pride that won't let her just admit that it might not be worth it, that maybe she'd rather just step back (and there's a cut dialogue with Daemon in which she voices these doubts to him and he immediately shuts her down saying she's weak like Viserys... hm!). In light of this, it isn't particularly out of character for show!Rhaenyra to be considering the peace offer Otto delivers (book!Rhaenyra is another story, she has no doubts and does not give a fuck about keeping the realm united, she wants to win, period). She has a good life on Dragonstone, her kids are out of the public eye and aren't facing accusations of bastardy, and Daemon has his dragon hobby to keep him occupied. She doesn't need the throne, and if it's not actually that important to Viserys, then he should just say so. If he really wants her to be queen and has a good reason for it, then do something. She has a point.

That said, if Rhaenyra doesn't want the burden, she can give it up at any time, and if she actually does want to be heir, she's not doing herself any favors either. She is the one who stayed away, who went to Dragonstone and was absent from court while the green council built up their power base. And while yes, Dragonstone is the official holding of the heir to the throne, most heirs split their time between King's Landing and Dragonstone because it's important for the heir to learn the workings of the realm and to make connections and alliances. Dragonstone is only a few hours away on from King's Landing on dragonback, and it's a relatively small holding with only a few villages, so it's not as if it requires its prince or princess to be in residence at all times. Aside from that, Rhaenyra also had three bastard children and put them in the line of succession, which she knew was going to cause problems (and in this, Viserys did offer her a ton of support, including allowing his own son's maiming to go unpunished and Vaemond to be killed to maintain that lie). So it kind of goes both ways. Rhaenyra acts like she doesn't really care all that much about being heir beyond the validation it gives her, that she is the favorite child, the one he chose, and Viserys stubbornly keeps her as heir but does nothing to shore up her claim or mitigate the threats against her, and it's divided the realm despite Viserys insisting the realm must remain united, so what are we actually doing here? I liked this scene, I think it reveals a good deal about show!Rhaenyra's mindset.

I think if done well, the show can have Rhaenyra really spiraling due to grief and rage, going from feeling like she should preserve the peace and that maybe it isn't worth it, to feeling like she has to win out of spite (and I think this can apply to both sides. You have Otto and Rhaenys giving Alicent and Rhaenyra similar speeches in the trailer) and a desire for vengeance. I don't... hate this? But the show has to stop giving Rhaenyra the chosen one rightful heir halo and admit that she doesn't go to war for the good of the realm, but for her own very personal reasons.

[ikeprinces-stuff]

Event: Leon Dompteur sequel route release

Host: @aquagirl1978

Characters: Leon x Reader

Words: 2266

Previous fic: Love

A/N: second entry, this time a day late from the second day ahaha, thanks to Leon's current story event I was able to come up with an idea✨💝

Day 2 - “Dreams: What dreams (past or present) does Leon have?”

Sometimes, chasing our dreams starts with just a single step. No matter how big or small, we all need that push—be it our own determination or the support of those around us. And that's a game changer. Take Leon, for instance. This kid climbed all the way to the throne of Rhodolite, but every time he thinks back on it, he realizes that the crown wasn’t really his dream; it was the dream of "Leon, the fourth prince." That thought forces him back to his tough childhood, shuffling between houses as a slave, envying the lives of those he served. He thought he'd never taste that kind of joy—at least, that’s what he told himself.

Even after trading rags for royal garb and basking in the admiration of the kingdom, deep down he felt like an outsider. Those people at the castle? They weren’t his family; they were just… well, people. He longed for that warmth and affection he'd witnessed in the families he'd served, thinking that once he got crowned, he’d finally find it. But it eluded him, a phantom dream slipping between his fingers. Then you came into his life—showing him what real family meant. Through your kindness, you opened his eyes, and suddenly, he realized that happiness wasn’t just about the crown or the title. With you, he found a deeper joy, one that made every moment worth it.

Now, he’s got a chance to flip the script—to be the one who helps someone else reach for their dreams. It’s his turn to be the champion, to lift someone else up, and finally fulfill that yearning he didn’t even know existed.

"I can't thank you enough for what you’ve done, Your Majesty," the nanny said, her warm smile lighting up her weathered face. The joyous sounds of children’s laughter filled the room, a beautiful symphony of innocence that followed you and Leon after distributing gifts and sweets. Leon had chosen to visit one of Rhodolite's oldest orphanages as a way to give back to the community, and of course, you, the future queen, were by his side. "Their laughter is pure music to my ears," you remarked, a nostalgic smile creeping across your lips. The memory of their wide-eyed joy as they tore into their presents replayed in your mind, their expressions a priceless treasure. "I picked the toys with Vernard's guidance—he’s practically a kid-whisperer—and nobody can resist Yves's sweets. But what really blew me away was how much they loved whatever Clavis whipped up," Leon chuckled, glancing around the room, his eyes dancing with delight.

The nanny nodded knowingly, her eyes glistening with memories of happier times. "We don’t get many visitors here, so when children saw you both, they lost it! To them, you were just two friendly faces—nothing more, nothing less." Her voice hung heavy with the weight of history, but before she could continue, a gentle tug on her dress interrupted her.

Looking down, she found a small child, his big round eyes shining brightly, "Can I go outside?"

With a soft sigh, the nanny replied, "I’ll let you, but only if you have an adult with you." The child puffed out his cheeks and crossed his arms defiantly. "But! Why? I won’t cause any trouble, I promise!"

The nanny’s expression shifted to a firmer tone. "Sorry, darling, but rules are rules." Defeated, the child turned away, a frown etched on his little face, leaving a lingering curiosity in the air that you shared with Leon through a knowing glance.

"Why the strictness about going outside?" you asked the nanny, your brow furrowing in confusion. Leon chimed in, "Kids should have the freedom to explore, right?"

The nanny's gaze turned somber, a hint of sadness clouding her features. "We have to stick to the rules, especially after… what happened years ago."

You and Leon shared a questioning glance, intrigued yet apprehensive. "What do you mean?" you pressed gently, prompting her to explain.

"There was a child who grew up here who managed to escape and never came back," she said, her voice heavy with implications. Your eyes widened at the revelation, but Leon remained stoic, urging her to continue.

"The story spread like wildfire. The reputation of this orphanage took a hit—everyone was quick to point fingers at the staff, claiming negligence. Since that day, the administration instituted a law: if a child wants to leave, even for a moment, they must be accompanied by a guardian. Safety first, after all…"

You felt a chill run down your spine as you processed the tragic tale. How could a small child escape, and what had become of them? Questions swirled in your mind, each one heavier than the last. It was clear that the nanny carried the weight of that history, an anchor bound to her heart. As dedicated as she was to the children, she, like all the staff, lived under the crushing reality of rules designed for protection—yet they felt the bittersweet sting of freedom lost.

After a brief tour around the orphanage with the nanny, Leon's eyes were drawn to a room tucked away at the end of the hall. It wasn’t the room itself that captured his attention; it was the small girl sitting by the window, bathed in sunlight yet shrouded in shadows of her own. She gazed outside, her delicate features marred by an expression of deep-rooted sorrow, the frown etched onto her face telling stories of heartache that words could never express.

“She was left at our gate when she was just a baby,” the nanny said, her voice tinged with an undeniable sadness. “As she grew, we discovered she had a form of paralysis in her legs. It’s just heartbreaking... she can’t walk, or even wiggle her little toes.” Leon’s heart sank as he took in the reality of the girl's situation. He felt an urge to reach out to her, to somehow ease the weight of her solitude.

“Can I talk to her? Just for a minute?” he asked, the hopefulness in his voice contrasting sharply with the heaviness in the air. The nanny paused, her brows furrowing in concern. “I don’t know, Your Majesty. She isn’t very sociable. She likes to keep to herself, even when the other kids try to play with her.” Still, after a moment's consideration, she relented, giving him a gentle nod.

Leon and you slowly made your way towards the little girl, her gaze fixed sadly on the window, as if the world outside held sorrows too heavy for her small heart. In an instant, she noticed you, the flicker of surprise in her eyes quickly replaced by a heavy sadness, and she returned her attention to the outside—a world she felt utterly disconnected from. "Hey there," you said gently, taking a seat beside her. Leon settled in front of her, trying to catch her gaze, but her eyes remained glued to the glass. “What’s your name?” he asked softly, his voice barely a whisper.

She glanced at him briefly, then turned back to the scene outside. "Remy," she said, her voice barely audible. "What a beautiful name," you replied, curiosity bubbling within me about what could be so captivating beyond the window.

Outside, the children from the orphanage frolicked in the garden, laughter ringing out as they chased each other, their joy painting a stark contrast to Remy’s solitude. You whispered her name, the syllables laced with empathy, “Remy…” Almost instinctively, she bristled at the gentle acknowledgment, the weight of her emotions spilling forth. “Now you think I’m pathetic, right?” she said, the bitterness bubbling up. “They’re all running around, having the time of their lives while I just sit here, and I can feel the envy festering inside me—growing into something ugly. It’s like… like it feeds the hatred I have for this place.”

Leon stayed silent, the words hanging in the air like a storm cloud, allowing her to continue. “Ever since they realized I couldn’t walk, they’ve kept me like this, as if I’m some fragile thing that’ll break if I try to stand. They always say I’ll never walk again…” Her gaze turned steely, her frustration almost palpable. “When I do walk, you better believe I’m bolting from here… just like that kid did…”

Remy’s fiery whisper jolted Leon, who finally shifted his position, his expression softening. “But… do you know what happened to that kid after they ran away?” His voice broke through her anger, and she hesitated, her defiance wavering.

“No, I don’t know what happened to them,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly. “But I think… that kid ran away because they hated this place, just like I do.” In that moment, the flicker of tears threatened in the corners of her eyes, her heartache visible. “They must’ve had dreams… dreams they wanted to chase… That’s why they left…”

“Dreams…?” Leon echoed, a hint of wonder lacing his words as he absorbed the gravity of her longing. The atmosphere tightened, and you wrapped an arm around her fragile shoulders, holding her close, determined to shield her from the weight of it all. She didn’t pull away, and for the first time, it felt like in that moment of pain and vulnerability, you were all seeking a glimmer of hope together.

~~~

That night, Leon paced the long, echoing corridors of the palace, the weight of Remy’s words crashing over him like waves against a rocky shore. The lingering questions twisted in his mind, refusing to loosen their grip as he finally reached his room. With a weary hand, he turned the handle, stepping inside only to find you perched anxiously on the edge of the bed. The moment your eyes met, a spark of concern danced across your face. “Where were you?” you voiced, the worry hanging thick in the air, more protective than accusatory.

“Just wrapping up some ‘work,’” he replied cryptically, his tone suggesting there was more to the story he wasn’t ready to share. The tension crackled between you like static. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” you shot back, and Leon could only nod in acknowledgment, the unspoken truth hanging heavy.

“I’m worried about Remy...” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly as the weight of those words settled between you. But Leon understood the depth of your concern, how it nagged at both your hearts. He crossed the distance in a heartbeat, wrapping you tightly in his arms, his lips brushing your cheek in a soft, reassuring gesture. “Everything will be okay, I promise,” he whispered, and even though the words were simple, they resonated with a depth that calmed the storms brewing within you. Losing yourself in his warmth, you allowed the comfort of his presence to wrap around you like a shield against the uncertainty that lay beyond your room's door.

~~~

Several days later, after your persistent nudging, you and Leon returned to the orphanage, hope fluttering in your chest. But the moment the nanny greeted you with that sunny smile, dread settled in your stomach. “Remy has been adopted,” she chirped, her cheeks glowing as she spoke. “A lovely family came and took her away, and you should have seen Remy’s face when she found out—pure joy, you know?” You stood there in disbelief, searching Leon's expression for a clue to how he felt. Yet, his trademark grin remained, as if he’d been waiting for this news, as if he understood it all along. Then it hit you—his words from before: “Everything will be okay, I promise.” You didn’t say anything more but kept quiet until you both stepped outside into the cool air.

“I know exactly what you’re thinking,” Leon eventually broke the silence, and you pierced him with a knowing gaze. “You had a hand in this, didn’t you?” you stated, your tone both trusting and a bit accusatory. “I might have mentioned her to a family that was itching to adopt,” he replied, calm and collected, as though it was just another Saturday morning errand. “I talked about her quirks, her struggles, her dreams—you should’ve seen their faces when I described her. They were in love before I finished my pitch.”

A sudden recollection struck you then, pulling you out of your thoughts. “You remember what she said? About the kid who ran away to chase their dreams? I think she meant herself, not some random kid.” Leon nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “She’s got dreams too, you know. And staying there without someone to give her that little nudge? It would’ve suffocated her potential. What better nudge than a family?”

“So you actually helped her chase those dreams?” you whispered, the weight of the words settling over you.

“All I did was help her take that first step. From there, she’ll take the bigger ones, trust me.” He swung his arm around your shoulder, and together you strolled down the street. “Just like you helped me. You helped me figure out my dreams, showed me what family really means. Now I want to pay that forward. I want to give someone else that shot at happiness—the same kind that you gave me.” His voice was soft but carried a passion that made you lean into him a little more.

He had turned his childhood aspirations into reality once, and now, he was determined to do it again for someone else. The weight of his intention wrapped around you like a warm embrace, charging the air with a sense of purpose. He was on a mission to share the joy of fulfilling dreams, one life at a time.

Fin ❤️✨

Tagging: @violettduchess @leonscape @lorei-writes @the-bird-and-the-flute @chirp-a-chirp @solacedeer @judesmoonbeauty @wistfulwanderingone @candiedcoffeedrops @scummy-writes @rjthirsty @reborn-elven @candied-boys @citrusmornings

(PLS LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE REMOVED FROM THE LIST)

[the-unrelated-theorist]

...but nobody came.

Man. So many characters in these games have major abandonment issues.

Flowey with "nobody came", which the Echo Flower dialogue confirms is him speaking from experience, feeling like Toriel forgot all about him, or worse, was glad to be rid of him.

Spade King saying the Lightners left the Darkners behind and forgot all about them.

Jevil being locked up and having no one to play with.

Spamton saying he was left to rot at the bottom of a dumpster.

Susie telling Kris in the "New Girl" post that someday someone would take Kris away and Toriel would forget all about them, or even be glad to be rid of them. Susie is definitely transferring her experiences onto Kris.

We don't know what Kris said to Susie in "New Girl", but one theory is "I know," or "Good." While this is only a fan theory (and one I don't agree with), it is worth noting that "...but nobody came" also appears in Snowgrave Spamton Neo whenever Kris calls for help.

Gaster was lost in the void, shattered across space and time. And now no one remembers him, except for his followers, who can't even speak about him directly without fear. (I'm including Jevil and Spamton as Gaster followers- they certainly came in contact with him.) This is just my own headcanon, but I often imagine Gaster waking up in the void, and his first thoughts being, "Where am I? It's so dark, and so cold," screaming, crying, begging for help... but nobody came.

For each of these characters, even if the exact dialogue isn't used, they all have an aura about them of "...but nobody came." All of them have at some point felt alone, trapped, and helpless, and nobody came to their rescue. Granted, this hasn't been positively confirmed for Susie, but given that she almost quotes Flowey when she screams at Kris, it's easy to deduce that she also had a "...but nobody came" time in her life.

And so many other characters face rejection or abandonment, as well. Toriel divorced Asgore in both timelines, leaving him desperate to see his children and his wife again. Shyren lost her voice when Shyra fell down. Maddie and Mettaton both ran off to fuse with their own bodies, leaving Napstablook alone. No one can remember Ruins Dummy's name. Mettaton was Alphys' friend until he became a big... heh, sorry, I almost said "big shot" (fitting, tho, isn't it?). So Alphys felt abandoned until she met Undyne... and then if you kill Undyne, Alphys disappears, apparently having committed suicide. Snowy left home because his mother fell down and his father hated his jokes, so Snowy felt abandoned. Ralsei is described as "the lonely prince." All of the Darkners feel abandoned by the Lightners. Queen divorced Spade King because he neglected her. Spade King pushes Lancer away- or, possibly, outright abuses him- so Lancer calls Rouxls his "Lesser Dad," even though Rouxls largely pushes him away, as well. Papyrus...

Papyrus...

"Forgettable." Still striving for a double-digit follower count on Undernet. Can't get into the Royal Guard. Works himself to the bone but can't get any recognition, much less a friend. May have "left home due to happiness." And most important, has a brother who is willing to avenge his death.

Everyone loves Papyrus. Everyone knows his name. More people talk about Papyrus than about his brother. holidaygirl1225 is asking everyone if they know how to find his egg again. Undyne is Papyrus' best friend. Alphys thinks his posts on Undernet are hilarious. The biggest differences in the ending for neutral runs fixate on whether you spared him or killed him. He even becomes king if he's the only one left alive. Why does Chara call him "Forgettable"? Why does he not think he has any friends? It's honestly a bit like Susie saying, "Why would anybody really wanna be my friend, anyway?" Except that he never lets himself say exactly that- but his whole attitude of "I can't make any friends, I have to work hard for people to like me" says it all.

It's like he does have an abandonment issue, but he's not giving in to it. Did he... Was he... was sans the only one who ever came when he called? Is that why these two are inseparable?

Much as I would like to leave this essay on this dramatic note about everyone's favorite skeleton, I also want to mention Dess. Most people believe that Dess is the one singing, "Don't forget, I'm with you in the dark." This feels like the exact opposite of "...but nobody came." How is she holding onto hope? Even though a lot of people miss her, nobody's looking for her anymore. They've all moved on. All except... her sister. Can Dess see Noelle searching for her? Who exactly is with Dess in the dark, anyway? The player, I presume, but could it be someone else?

[elerrinacrownedwithstars]

Galadriel in the Rings of Power, part 3: Women's stories don't matter

This post continues my analysis of Galadriel as she is portrayed in the Amazon series The Rings of Power - and why I think it is so very bad. Part 1 focused on the the portrayal of her being a warrior, and the many problems it creates for her character and possibly even for LOTR, whereas part 2 argued that what is supposed to be war trauma is actually just an awful personality.

Part 1 x Part 2

This post will examine the rather misogynistic implications of the show's changes to Galadriel's story.

I will post my arguments in a few different posts, because that should make the whole much more readable. I will use the tags #anti rop and #anti rings of power for the benefit of those who may want to filter my posts.

If you like Amazon Rings of Power, I have no issue with that; I only take issue with how a character I've loved for over a decade is portrayed in this show.

3. By erasing Melian and Celebrían from Galadriel's story, the show undermines meaningful relationships between women and implies that women's stories are not worth telling unless their occupation fits masculine ideals. 

Common criticism of Tolkien is the lack of female characters in his legendarium (although there are many very compelling female characters in The Silmarillion, including Galadriel). But Amazon has actually one-upped him in this by erasing meaningful relationships Galadriel has with her mentor and her daughter. As stated in part 1 of this series, Melian's absence from Galadriel's life creates problems for The Lord of the Rings because without Melian, she doesn't have the experience and skills she needs to have in order to help the Fellowship (and ultimately contribute to the success of the quest to destroy the Ring). Needless to say, it's problematic to undermine skills, art and crafts that are specifically linked to feminine sphere, especially when this is done so that a character fits masculine ideals.

All ROP!Galadriel's relationships are with and about men: her dead (but living in Valinor) brother, her grudging subordinates, some kind of friendship between her and Elrond although there seems to be a lack of mutual respect, the manipulative and ultimately very detrimental nonsense with Halbrand/Sauron, and Gil-galad who appears to view her as a problem to be solved, not an asset. She has no female friends and her relationship with Míriel is ambivalent at best. (Can you imagine the interactions Galadriel might have had with Dísa, though? It's a tantalising thought. It could have also been used as a way to establish why Galadriel is so respectful of Gimli.)

As stated before, at this point of her story, Galadriel should be married and mother to a grown daughter. There is some variation about the timeline, thanks to Tolkien's shifting ideas about Galadriel's history, but it is safe to say that her marriage to Celeborn and Celebrían's birth took place in the early centuries of the Second Age. In part 1, I also argued that in the show's timeline, the time she would have had with Celeborn would not have been enough to marry, especially if he was actually lost in the wars of the First Age. I find it very poor writing that the show fixates on the few lines about Galadriel's athletic feats, but then ignores Tolkien's fairly clear writing on how Elves did not marry or have children when they were preoccupied with war.

Be that as it may, ROP does allow Galadriel to be married (however briefly), but not a parent. The absence of Celebrían leads me to believe that she is born at some later time during the show - and the cynic in me is convinced that the show will use motherhood as a solution to Galadriel's issues, enabling her transformation into the powerful Elven queen - as if becoming a mother is a fulfillment of woman's story, not a part of it. But even if children are supposedly a woman's higher calling, masculine traits and occupations are still more important and more compelling. Hence the part of Galadriel's story that involves motherhood is delayed to a much later time, so that she may run around Middle-earth, swinging a sword and pursuing a revenge fantasy (which, of course, ultimately fails, at least in the sense that she does not get to personally bring down Sauron). 

If you ask me, it's a particularly bad move to change a woman's story so that she is presented as an action hero and her womanhood and parenthood are a resolution of her life, not the intrinsic part of it. 

4. ROP!Galadriel's motives and agenda are not about herself, but about men. 

In The Silmarillion, it is shown that Galadriel is proud and ambitious, and wants to rule her own realm in Middle-earth. She wants to try her skills outside the safety of Valinor and build something of her own. After the War of Wrath, she refuses the pardon of Valar and remains in Middle-earth, because she is still proud: she believes that if she returns to the Blessed Lands, it would be as a shamed Exile who does not even have the permission to dwell in Aman proper but in Tol Eressëa. However, in Middle-earth she is still mighty and powerful, respected by both Elves and Men. She still wants to be an active participant in the events of Middle-earth and shape the course of the future. Her ambition and pride are not yet spent: she won't take "the second best" in the Undying Lands, when she can still stand at the top of the food chain in Middle-earth. 

There is also the version that Galadriel is actively banned from returning to Valinor as a leader of the rebellion. Later on Tolkien's thinking of her story changes further and Galadriel's desire to sail for Middle-earth is unrelated to the unrest of Noldor and she is not presented as a rebel leader. This late version, I think, is not as compelling and does contradict The Lord of the Rings. FOTR appears to derive from the version where there's a ban against Galadriel's return into the West, where she now yearns to go back after millenia of exile. But when she rejects the Ring and the temptation of becoming a terrible dark queen in her own right, she "passes the test", she will diminish and go into the West. In other words, she finally rejects her own pride and ambition. Moreover, this refusal and the crucial help she gives to the Fellowship are said to be the reason she is allowed to sail in the end of ROTK. 

All the same, no matter what version by Tolkien you look at, in canon Galadriel is the mistress of her own fate and her ambitions, and her flaws and her overcoming them are her own. Galadriel's story is about Galadriel. 

It has been extensively argued and shown in other posts criticising the show how Galadriel's agency is thrown out of the window so that all she does in ROP is obsess about men - to the point where her big moment in FOTR and the refusal of the Ring (supposedly, the reason she is granted leave to return to Valinor) is not about her own pride and ambition, but about Sauron. So I won't go into that in this post. But I will say this much: in LOTR, it is  made clear that the victory over Sauron is still a defeat for the Elves. Much that was magical and wondrous will pass with him and the time for the Dominion of Men begins. Lothlórien will fade away. In helping the Fellowship of the Ring Galadriel essentially sacrifices her own ambition and influence over the matter and fates of Arda. But with ROP's portrayal, this aspect of Galadriel's fight against Sauron is lost.

Furthermore, it is apparently because of her that Sauron resumes to his evil ways. The show changes Galadriel  from being one of Sauron's chief enemies and her opposing him even when he was still seemingly fair and helpful, to the situation where she cannot recognise him for what he is and is responsible for his return - and for the hundreds of thousands of deaths and uncountable suffering that will result from it. 

I expect I don't need to explain why this is bad.

It is also very unclear to me what she expected to do once she found Sauron. Fights between Elves and Maiar in the form of Balrogs are notoriously fatal, and Sauron must be even stronger than a Balrog, considering he is Morgoth's first lieutenant. Is ROP!Galadriel trying to go down in a blaze of (vain)glory? As the final scene of the first season between her and Sauron shows, she is and always was hopelessly outmatched and she doesn't seem to have any plan except to just stab him. Are you telling me that she spent a millenia hunting for him without any idea about his abilities and how to respond to them, and how to bring him down?

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What I gather from all this is that for ROP, and for the people who created the show, women's stories, friendship between women, and women's ambitions don't matter. Or, it was thought that the only way Galadriel would be interesting to the TV audience is as an action hero. This could also be because the creative team responsible for ROP simply can't write a good script.

Surely, it's nice to see women in diverse roles, being warriors and protectors and guardians. But it's also important to see how these roles tie to masculine ideals, and that if you discard a woman's already existing story so that she can fulfill this particular role, then your take is not particularly empowering anymore.