#a woman’s greatest tragedy is she is cursed to become just like her mother

[lesbianlunareclipse]

oh my god i’ve just had the harrowing realisation at 3am that i have replicated the way in which my mother treated me in my relationship with my cat

[cornacopicimagines]

A Rose Blooms │t.h

pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader

words: 8.4k (WHOOPS)

warnings: arranged marriage, SMUT (we been knew), slight praise kink and 10000% breeding kink, therefore unprotected sex, swearing, slight cockwarming & good lord there is so much

summary: Perhaps God does have a sick sense of humour. To allow such misguided souls to one another. Souls that shouldn't be allowed to feel the sense of happiness he can provide, that should accept their dire situations. The Prince of Wales and his new bride can attest to the quite well. 

a/n: what do y'all mean a historical prince au!tom holland with major smut and breeding kink is not a thing. i know the sluts want it, even if they never ask for it. i must provide it.

masterlist

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y/n of Burgundy was a splendid piece of artwork. A sweet and humble French Princess with a huge dowry and a bright future. It was as if DaVinci had casted the girl from Venus's shadow and gifted the baby to displeased parents. Parents who so wished for a boy, that the arrival of a healthy girl is so overlooked that the girl is better off dead. The sadness is heard across not only France but the entirety of Europe. Poor y/n of Burgundy! The Unlucky Princess of Burgundy! It's all she hears; she is deemed a tragedy before her life is even written. Perhaps that is her greatest misdeed in this life, that because she is born the wrong sex to what is expected she is casted to the side as a woman destined for slight and anguish for her entire life. Even if this is the case, y/n wished to think of herself as unwritten for the moment being. A woman waiting for a calling no matter how big or small. A woman who's only current wish to sit atop this windowsill, letting the cool September French breeze kiss her flushed cheeks. Alas, even this is stripped from her.

"Get off the window, y/n!" her mother's shrill voice shrieks as The Duchess yanks y/n to the floor. It's harsh and frantic, as if an arrow is to fly through and hit her. Her tightly coiled chest hit's the wooden floor hard. It knocks the only wind y/n really has left, a wasteful shame.

"I am sorry mama," y/n responds quietly, her hands desperately pat to find a piece of wood that will not cut up into her as she attempts to regain her balance. Though her room is filled with four maids not a single one offers their own hand to help her. She knows it is because of her mother's cowl. If they dare so move in a direction towards her, The Duchess will become a Fury of Hell himself.

"The breeze is so sweet at this time of afternoon." Finally, y/n does place her feet back on the floor with a small clack of her heels. She takes a moment to take in the state of her gown. While she has countless others, something about the pure white of the satin being destroyed by the inevitable dust that has collected is disheartening even to her. The pattern of bright red roses now looks more of a dull blood grey than a true flower.

"The breeze is something so frivolous my dear," The Duchess is suddenly content with her surroundings. "Busy yourself with something more intelligent, it makes for a much better bride." 

"Thank you for the wise advice mother," y/n snaps, her fingers gripping the ruined material of her gown. "I'll be sure to not engage myself in something that gives me the slightest bit of freedom in the lifeless castle," it was no louder than a whisper. Her braided hair still muffling the sounds.

As if her words seemed to not even reach her, The Duchess mumbles in agreement before taking her leave. The door shutting loudly behind her, the air was finally safe to breathe. The maids immediately begin to swarm her. Like flies to honey; they grapple her, prod at her and pinch her. It was too much. It was as if a million ants had swarmed her body, nipping at any piece of flesh they could just because it was what they were meant to do. An instinctive need to draw more blood than necessary, it was overwhelming. They inspected her perfectly capable hands, wondering if their incompetence has cost them their heads because y/n of Brittany split her blood and The Duchess refused to let them help. She was suffocating.

She didn't mean for it to slip, it just did. Her voice raised, "Get out." It was softer at first. "Get out," they still didn't move, still abusing her. "I said get out!" Everything stopped for a moment, the air her mother had ensued had now come back. The maids all took a single step away from her. y/n felt the tears threaten her, warning by dancing across her lower lashes. "Do none of you listen, get out for Christ’s sake!" That's all it took, in a matter of seconds y/n was finally alone. She could hear the faint song of the trees whispering to her, it was calm, but she couldn't appreciate it. She dropped to her knees and began to softly weep into her palms. The groans muffled by the skin of her hands and the tears halted from falling by her fingers. In this moment and forever ahead of her, she was desolate.

But like all things, even this bleak minute of sorrow was cut to an end by the deafening sound of her father's boots storming down the hallways towards her room.

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Tom spectated as the pole shattered into a thousand pieces. The splinters hitting ever edge of the arena. He watched as the knight fell limp and as his horse rode on through the chaos. The young prince roared out of his seat, his knees hitting the harsh wood of the royal box. His name echoed on the young knight's medallion above his breast. He had picked the winning side and rightfully so, Sir Harrison had never been defeated. For a moment, Tom turned around to face his beaming mother. A woman who loved the games, Tom always relied on his mother to accompany him to these festivities but his father. The Prince would always ask graciously but was refused every time. Constantly belittled for the consul of old men with a working cock between them, it was a joke. The King had many failed efforts to rile the English people to cause, Tom had offered a large gathering to help inspire the people. The King told his son this would cause nothing but useless panic and many painful deaths. Scoffing, Tom waltzed back to his seat. It was uncomfortable, it felt as if ants hand made their nets below the seat's support. He wished to ride alongside them.

"You cannot and you will not," The Queen smiled at him, waving to squires as they led the horses away. Tom's head swivelled around to meet his mother's. "I refuse it my son."

"I had said nothing mother," Tom replied quietly, he too doing his duty to the lower noble men who had come out today. Each one sweatier than the last. "Perhaps you are hearing things, 10 childbirths can change a woman's mind," Tom stifled a laugh, too which he received a slap on the arm for.

"Don't play smart with me son," The Queen spoke coolly, her countless rings clanged as she rose from her seat. Tom followed suit, allowing a hand for his now middle-aged mother for gracious help down the impossibly large stairs. "I almost lost your father to one of these silly little cock shows, I will not go through it with you my boy."

Tom raised an eyebrow, watching his mother's golden trim become bleaker by the stain of the grass. "I had half a mind to believe you enjoyed these silly little cock shows," Tom played. The Queen peered up at his through hooded lids. It was dangerous waters even for him, a man who has seen the blood of war. He allowed his mother and her ladies to return to Windsor, watching as if to wait for the shark to disappear.

"Your Royal Highness, if I may have a word," a soft voice called out from below the podium. Tom paced to the edge and stared down. Constance, he thought to himself as he smiled wickedly. She was a short and mildly plump woman, with wild unruly hair that had to be constantly shoved out of her face. He remembers her name because of how sweet his name sounded dripping from her tongue. Countless nights spent in the throes of passion, wearing moonlight as cloth. Tom knew he had dishonoured her just by bedding her, but he couldn't help himself. She was the first woman who really took an interest in him. Still, he had to come to her aid on multiple occasions. While he likes the way, she grips at his biceps, he however, doesn't like when her father comes storming into court demanding his daughter's honour back because Tom had prayed on her. Perhaps, it was the odd lack of ladies that would flock to his side or maybe it was simply because he wanted a little bit of fun before the inevitable. 

"You may, my Lady," Tom smiled widely making his way to her side. He could tell the mud was ruining the polished leather of his boots, he completely forgot about his favourite riding boots he had put on in hopes that he may indulge himself in the sports. Still, he pushed the though deep down at met her eyes. He not an unusually tall man but the way he almost dwarfed her was delectable. As he watched her squirm, he wondered as to why she would speak with him where anyone could see. There was no danger for him, but the world's eyes were on her.

She played with the small ring on her pinkie finger, riding it up and down the skin. "Why did you not tell me," she whispered, refusing to look up at him. Tears began to well.

"What on earth do you mean?" He queered, genuinely curious as to what had got her all worked up. His hands went to stroke her cheek gently, but she abruptly pulled away from him. This time her eyes did meet his, the salty liquid glossed over her eyes.

"It is bad enough that I am called the Prince's Whore but now they are cursing my name because I have ruined the royal couple!" she cried out, her deep green dress swallowing the mud below. "That a stupid maid slut has stolen you away from the beautiful French Princess!"

Tom saw nothing but red. Not because of Constance but because of what she said to him. He had begged his parents to let him choose his own wife. If he was to rule England after his father's passing, he wished to at least have a woman whom he truly loved by his side. He said nothing to her as he stormed away. The small drizzle of rain hitting his skin as he picked up his speed. He knew that his father was in a council meeting alongside his mother. Perfect opportunity to unleash his rage. He faintly heard her calling after him, that was muffled by the buzzing in his ears.

He had been told who he was meant to be and what he was meant to be from the moment he was born. Hardly ever seeing his mother or younger brothers because he was eldest, never knowing true companionship because he would be constantly cooped up listening to his advisors and tutors as they taught him the art of war and foreign policies. This was his one chance to spend his life with a woman who understood him and would grow a loving family much in contrast to what he had.

His hands pushed the heavy wooden doors, they hit the walls with a large smack. The entire council stood for the Prince, with the exception of his mother and sickly father. He walked past them with ease and took his seat at the opposite end of table. His eyes focused solely on his father as he absently noted the appearance of his son.

"Wonderful of you to finally join us," The Duke of Essex smiled weakly, in any attempt to deflect the tension elsewhere.

"When were you going to tell me?" Tom spoke, his voice barely above a whisper and laced with venom. His elbows digging into the cool wood of granite of the table. He watched his father finally face him; the man was a wreck. His greying hair stuck to his hair with copious amounts of sweat, his brown eyes had sunk deadly back into the sockets and his skin was pale and filled with wrinkles. "When were you going to tell me father?"

"You were spending too much time with that scullery maid," The King respond calmly, still flipping through royal documents. Tom was on the verge of an explosion. If the Prince was known for something, it was his anger. Much like Mount Vesuvius, he didn't get angry often, he hated how it affect those around him. The times he is pushed to the breaking point however, he was destroy everything in his path. "We had to put an end to it."

"We?" Tom pushed.

"Your mother made the arrangements; she is being brought here as we speak." Once more, the King had no interest with the devastated look on the Prince's face. Too caught up in an attempt to stile a cough.

"You promised me my own choice of bride," Tom seethed. He faced his mother, if the King wouldn't listen perhaps the Queen would.

His mother sighed; the silk of her sleeves draped over the arms of the chair. "That was before you had instinctively made the choice, we hoped that perhaps you would have fallen for the daughter of a Duke or at worst an Earl. You were going to marry that girl, after everything her family has done against the court. We couldn't allow it."

Tom jaw clicked. "Who is she?" He was done arguing, done protesting.

"You'll marry the granddaughter of the French King; y/n of Burgundy," his father spoke up before his mother could sugar coat it. "The family sent a portrait of the girl as the first payment of her dowry; it has already been placed in your room. Hopefully, you can find the slightest bit of attraction for your new bride before the wedding."

"Will I get to meet her beforehand?" He at least hoped to see the girl with his own eyes before calling her his wife. Finally, the King met his eyes. He dropped the quill on the desk as locked his eyes, leaning towards him.

"Did you really think you'd get that luxury?"

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The sea breeze prickled at y/n skin as she sat atop the deck. She could tell they were getting closer. The wind went from a soft tone to a howling scream, something her great aunt had told her all about. English weather could go from a perfect sunny day to god's worst mood. In all honesty, she preferred it to French. It was wild and unpredictable, something she so desperately needed.

She remembered how she got into this predicament as she lay down a 9 ace on the table. Waiting for the ship to land.

"You'll leave tomorrow, it will take you a good couple of days to get there." Her father exclaimed, picking a raspberry from the plate and eating the sweet fruit. y/n stood in silence, still reeling her tears back into her eyes. She refused to weep in front of the Duke. She moved around the large room, in order to hear his words. "You'll make a fine queen," he smiled, placing his hands atop her cheeks. y/n smiled warmly before raising a concern.

"How do you know this will be different than the last?" she asked quietly, staring down at her shoes. Her father sighs before picked his coat up from the chair.

y/n placed her bets, her hand is exquisite. Three queen and a pair of Kings. If she doesn't win, it's as if God is going against her. The men that sit beside her raise their brows in confusion. She's not backing down.

"Because, you know their language and their culture from Great Aunt Mary. You were her favourite after all," her father tells her, the memory of the old lady teaching her English brings a curve to her lips. That was not the answer she was looking for, however. Her father knows it as well, he knows the answer she wants but he cannot give it to her. "Trust me pumpkin," the endearment is wonderful. Unlike her mother, y/n's father has always been kind to her. She doesn't know if it because she is his eldest daughter or because her brother is a lousy boy and she is the only child with a head still attached to her shoulder blades.

She releases her tension; she knows whatever comes out of this she must go along with it. She must accept whatever situation is handed to her and accept her duty as a future queen and mother to the English Throne.

y/n squeals, her hand's won. The rest of the chips are placed in her corner, she is asking if they want to go another round but instead, they all huff and walk away from her. y/n feels her heart sink into her stomach. Perhaps the English wind has turned their moods sour. Soon enough her worries are washed away as the boat docks into Brighton and y/n hears the cheers for her. She can't exactly make out what they are saying. Sadly, she doesn't get a chance to even greet her new subjects as her new English ladies are gently pushing her towards the carriage. The only thing she can do is wave and smile at them, hoping to instil a fraction of hope for the new royal couple. As she steps into the carriage, a huge white dress follows her. The abundance of ladies and herself are stuck in the cramped space for a little over an hour before they start agreeing to change her dress into the one being coddled.

"Why? This is dress is perfect as it is," y/n laughed gently, her fingers playing with the pearls that lace the neckline.

"Forgive me, my lady, but His Majesty; The King has requested that you wear a white gown." One of the younger girls pipes up. Sighing, y/n nods her head to agree and goes to stop the carriage.

While they don't completely undress her, she knows that the smock under her dress is shear and leave nothing to the imagination. Quickly they strip her of the current dress, even unlacing the corset before adding another one. As they place the soft silk of her veil over her head, she can hear the ringing bells at Westminster. It hasn't completely dawned on her what she is exactly going through. Marrying a man she has never met. Marrying a man for all she knows could be a tyrant. She's heard quite a few English Monarchs fall under that said category. Her heart started to jump now; she could fell the beat thump against her vocal box.

The people began to line the city. Countless bodies waved at her as she strolled through the city of London. The abbey somehow seemed ten times bigger in person. White rose petals fell through the air as the coachman opened the door for her. The walkway was paved with red velvet. Her heels felt as though she was ruining the beautiful material as she walked.

Tom can physically hear her pounding heartbeat from where he stands. He can't exactly make out her face, but he can see the white gown strutting towards him. It's the same patterns as the dress his mother wore more than 20 years ago. He's seen it in countless paintings, his mother scowling as she attempts to salvage any positive thing out of such tremendous pain. Harrison lays a hand on his shoulder; the contact makes him jump.

"I heard she looks like a siren," he joked, dusting a small particle of fluff off Tom's shoulder. "Perhaps she'll sound like one too," the comment was enough to grant the knight a hard whack on his arm from the Prince. He truly did wonder if she would as beautiful as the painting which depicted her. A small red rose for his house in her fingertips as she grinned softly. It was as if she was staring into his soul.

Tom reached out to allow her aid in getting up the stairs. She graciously accepted muttering a small thank you as her other hand lifted the countless layers of fabric to mend her steps. Her touch was soft, something he wasn't used to. The gentle touch of a noble woman, even if it was only upon his fingers. The entirety of Westminster Abbey went silent as the faced each other.

y/n could barely hear anything over her rampant anxiety. Though she was eased slightly as she blindly grasped at his fingers, she was afraid she gripped a little too tightly. Finally, she stood in front of him. The gown dipping down the stairs to end in her ladies' hands. She wondered what she looked like to him. Wondering if it was a glorious sight to witness a new bride waltzing towards him. Or if it was one of dread, to be in holy matrimony with someone you've just met for the first time. She's still trying to decide between the two.

The ceremony was beautiful. A simply yet elegant affair, as two young royals wed. She knows that she is marrying the Prince of Wales, a worthy husband for any noble woman. Yet she can't help the dread that builds as the Archbishop drones on. The hymns falling deaf ears. She tries to pay attention, but she can’t, all she can hear is the drumming of her heartbeat. It pounds against her ribs, creating echoes in her head. Before she knows it, his hands reach for hers. There was no strength in his grip unlike beforehand, it was soft and gentle. As if she was a beautiful yet delicate doll, that she would completely shatter if he pressed just that bit too hard. Their fingertips locked; her skin fell into the ridges of his knuckles.

“I proclaim thee, y/n of Burgundy to be my lawfully wedded wife from now until the end of my days,” he hesitated. She could hear it in his voice. “She shall sit beside me as I rule the kingdom.” The ring passes down her skin, the metal biting at her finger.

She repeats him. “I proclaim thee, Thomas – Prince of Wales to be my lawfully wedded husband from now until the end of my days. I shall sit beside him as he rules this beautiful country.” She smiles at the end, though she never intends to. y/n thanks her ladies that they cover her grinning face behind the thick white lace of her veil.

The entirety of Westminster Abbey is silent, no one dares even breathe as Prince Thomas coils his fingers around the tipping of the lace. He lifts it over his now wife’s face. He taken aback slightly. The painter wasn’t paid enough, clearly. She was even more beautiful standing in front of him. The same clear complexion now glistening in the soft sunlight of England. He doesn’t pry of course; it would be rude of him. Just to stare at his bride, as if they were the only people in the hall. Good lord, does he wish it was.

His hands reach her cheeks. Tender once more, he brings her forward. She shifts on her feet as they meet. A quaint and soft kiss, unlike anything either of them has felt ever. He can’t remember the last time, it was this – well, gentle. Thomas doubts he has ever kissed a woman of such luxury in his entire life up to this point. y/n is the first to pull away, her fingers resting lightly on his raised wrists. Their eyes meet for a moment, a short moment.

Westminster Abbey erupts into celebration. Red rose petals fall from the ceiling and music begins to flood the area.

As she stared around, y/n began to think to herself. I do not know what will come out of this, but I already can see that joy my presence brings to these people. I shall not let them down.

Prince Thomas of England, Heir to The English Throne and y/n of Burgundy, Granddaughter of The French King had been wed. They were now locked in holy matrimony, a feeling unlike any other. Both horrendous and hospitable.

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The Hall is a grand party. Laughing and singing is heard from every corner, mugs of beer and wine are flung across tables and scraps of food are being thrown to the dogs. y/n has never seen such a scene unfold. Too contained by the prudish French court. The most scandalous thing she has seen is a risqué dance meant to be for a married lover.

That is what she always despised about the French Nobility. Their secrets. Whispers and Rumours spread faster than fire. If you had committed some heinous act, the entirety of France will hear about it by the end of the week. Perhaps that is another reason why she felt so trapped in Burgundy. y/n could never do a single task on her own before her ladies’ loose tongue would find their way back to her mother. A delicate little flower, such a waste of potential.

Tom noticed her prodding, her fork twirling the few peas left on her plate. He hadn’t said a word to her all night and yet he looks at her if she’s unwillingly to speak. Does she know any basic English? Perhaps not.

“How are you liking the food,” Tom asked her, leaning into her. She smiled up at him, he spoke to her in French. It made her heart swell for a second. y/n turns to face him, smiling warmly. Tom wishes he could keep that smile forever.

“It’s is very well Your Grace,” y/n replies to him. Her flawless English rolling off her tongue with a petite French accent. It’s like heaven to his ears and he’s taken aback. “My Great Aunt was an English Countess, I loved her very much. I was fluent in English before I was 8.” She explained, almost as if she had read his mind.

“You need not call me Your Grace,” he teased, it was somewhat natural for him.

“Then what shall I call you?” y/n queered.

“I am your husband now, whatever pleases you pleases me,” Tom replied, turning back to his empty plate in an effort to hide the rising red flush on his face. y/n knew she should leave it at that, so she turned her attention elsewhere.

“Are royal weddings usually this,” she paused, “loud?”

Tom laughed quietly, he too turned to face the ruckus crowd. Men laying in the laps of maids, dogs feasting over food that had been flung across the floor. Loud chants to the beat of the music filled the hall. He would have been completely embarrassed by the state of his people in front of his new bride, if he hadn’t seen the amused look on her face. “Not usually, I have only been to one other wedding and that was extremely sombre.”

“How so?” she asked, sipping from the freshly poured wine.

“I went to my uncle’s wedding a few months ago. He had also married a noble woman like yourself, but the poor thing was only 11. My uncle was 35 and counting.” He wishes it was different but like all things in this world, he is powerless to the wills of those who think they are higher than others.

He peered at her; y/n was already looking at him. An eyebrow and a lip raised in disgust. It was quaint.

“I wish I could be more repulsed by that,” Tom wondered if she was joking or if she was serious. He couldn’t tell just by the use of her tone. He did however note her wit. Something he so longed for. They talked for hours, sitting by one another and discussing anything that arrived at the conversation. Tom can’t decide whether it’s her honey-like voice or her banter but it’s making him feel things no one should for someone they are being forced to wed.

Just while they are comparing the contrasting jousting techniques, the joyful music suddenly stops. It’s a quick snap and the entire hall is now dead quiet. The Earl of Salisbury mounts himself on one of the tables. His cheeks red with drunkenness.

The Earl points directly at y/n and Tom as they sit in confusion. “The final tradition, an honour for any noble man. The Great Bedding!”

y/n turns to Tom, clinging slightly to his sleeve. He takes immediate notice. “Thomas, what is The Great Bedding?” There was great concern in her voice as she watched all of the men rush towards them. He didn’t get to answer as the women abruptly hauled him out of his seat and down the hall, away from her.

y/n didn’t fear too well either. At least a dozen grimy hands placed themselves all over her body, pulling harshly as they brought her into the air. Dancing her down the halls. She constantly whacked their hands, to no avail of course. They only dropped her once they got to a dimly lit room.

It was already buzzing with people. Hustling around a single bed, covered by finely woven silk. The men dropped her gently, placing her feet against the ground. y/n tried to turn around to give them a piece of her mind but was stopped as her corset began to become loose around her waist. Incredibly uncomfortable, y/n looked up to distract herself in any regard and found Tom at the other side. The maid’s hands undoing every buckle of his coat, tiny fingers unthreading the lavish ropes across his body. y/n blushed at the sight.

Tom was trying his hardest not to look at her, not to stare as countless men of the court undressing her. He could hear the bulky wedding dress hit the floor of the room, he could feel her eyes on him, and he could see the variety of unknown nobles swarming them in any hopes to achieve the right to gossip tomorrow morning. It was despicable.

He climbed in first, the cotton of the blankets itching his skin as he settled. The only comfort he found was in the softness in his unkempt hair. Not restricted by the gel he was forced to wear.

y/n slowly followed his lead, it was dead silent. No one dared breathed as the new Princess of Wales found her spot next to The Prince. All the while, the exact same priest Archbishop chanted away, and priests flung holy water at the bed. Some of the liquid found itself on her skin. Finally, the crowd bowed to the couple and began to take their leave.

Tom watched in peace; he would be alone. He closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh, perhaps he would be able to get some well needed sleep. That seemed achievable until he felt a cold grasp around his wrist. His eyes shot open to find his father’s glare directly at him. “Don’t let the spring pass, I hope to see a grandson in the next few months,” The King spat.

It had been hours since the quarry of guests had left the room but the the monarch’s words etched themselves into his mind. Echoing nonstop, getting wilder as Tom felt y/n settle herself next to him. The mere presence of her alongside the duty he had to fulfil was too much for him. Tom shot up and quickly gathered his things, hauling his boots and clothes. He couldn’t be near her for another moment, too afraid of what he might do if she was subject to this sort of cruel punishment. Tom quickly decided he was sleep next door, just far away to have the thoughts no longer plague his mind but not too far that he would impose the wrong meaning on her. He reached for the door when she chimed in.

“Where are you going?”

He halted instantly. He wished that they could have gotten along like most royal couples should. A cold and initially distant meeting, then hopefully something would blossom over the years. Instead they had gotten along quite well, too well in fact. He was used to going slowly, taking his time in bedding a girl. A constant glaze over the court every few days, then promiscuous banter and in the span of months he would have her melt in his hand with a simple word. Now, he was feeling flustered and out of control and all of it was happening over a single night. Tom pressed his forehead against the wood, taking a deep breath. He turned to look at her, just like a painting coming to life. Her hair was down, unlike anything he had ever seen. Not grimed with sweat and dirt nor was it pinned underneath a headdress or away from her face. This time, the soft curls framed it. The nightgown clung to her shoulders; the fabric dangerously close to falling off. It made his life that much more difficult.

“I am sorry. You are a beautiful woman, but I just cannot fulfil the expectations that are placed upon me tonight. I will be sleeping in the room next door if you need me,” Tom blurted out. He waited for a response before he could speed out. She sat there, like a perfectly sculpted statue. It was torture.

y/n sighed, “nothing has to happen tonight.”

“But they will ask, they will pry like they always will,” he countered.

“Who says we have to tell the truth?” y/n giggled. God, it was a symphony to him. Tom watched her leave the bed, waltzing around to meet with him at the door. He wanted the tell her to stay exactly where she is, not to move even an inch closer but with ever step she took, his breath hitched higher in his throat. “I would prefer to spend the first night of my marriage with my husband, whether something happens or not.”

He swallowed thickly, “you are incredibly calm.” He now met her, his full attention on y/n as she chuckled in delight.

“I am filled to the brim with anxiety, just not that same fear that you are feeling,” she told him as she sat down the small longue in the middle of the room. She took the wine from the table and poured each of them a glass. Tom was hesitant at first, still wishing to flee the room and into the safety of his own solitary. Still, he found himself pacing towards her. Taking soft and flinching steps until he sat beside her.

“Then what is the fear?” He took the other glass, quickly chugging the alcohol. y/n said nothing but just stared at him in confusion. “The fear you feel, why?”

It was now her turn to become flustered. He looked genuinely curious as to why she was feeling doubtful, but she was unsure if he truly wanted to know the answer. Her father made her promise never to speak of it to anyone, a shameful secret that would ruin her future if it was released. But Tom was now her husband. They were bonded by law, a thought she really didn’t wish to dwell on. Surely, whatever she told him wouldn’t cause them any stress? Still, it would be rude of her not to tell him the reason after he had just clearly demonstrated his own fears in the commitment. “You must promise not to become angry.”

Tom nodded his head gently, even more intrigued then he was before.

y/n quietly exhaled, avoiding looking at Tom. “I was married once before, he passed from the sickness 3 months into our matrimony. Perhaps it was God way of guiding me to a better future, but it ruined almost everything. His death caused create strain for my family as they attempt to rebuild myself as if I was not capable of it myself. I am terrified that I am cursed, that I shall find myself falling in love with you only to be weeping over your coffin months later.” She had poured her soul out, shared such a personal section of her life. She was ashamed to see his face. Too afraid that pure anger and disgust would paint his face.

“Who was he? The man whom you had married?” Tom asked her again. His voice calling out as she stared directly at the purple velvet beneath her dress.

“The Prince of Spain,” y/n squeaked.

“That inbred!” Tom joked, suddenly becoming relaxed by the mere mention of the Spanish Royal Family. “I am surprised you got three months and not three days, that kid was on death doors for his entire life,” Tom was now in a fit of laughter. It wasn’t directed to her but more that they allowed such a beautiful woman to be the wife of such a dull man. y/n peered up, thoroughly embarrassed as she gave him a light whack. Tom finally came down from his laughing fit, staring directly at her. “You are cursed Princess; you are just coddled. Forced into a life clearly not meant for someone like yourself.”

The mere mention of the cradling of her life got y/n riled up, “that’s another thing! The Spanish constantly treated me as if I was some porcelain doll ready to shatter if they dared even look at me! I felt like a child trapped in a woman’s body and he touched me like that as well. God, I was finally ready to truly live my life and then he just was too soft, I wanted something much mor-” Oh. Oh God. She had run her mouth too far, dug her own grave with her rambling. Her hands clamped against her mouth as a heat rushed to her face. She could see the French ships arriving for her next month, giving her passage because she was not in pristine condition. Hopefully Tom didn’t pick up on what she was inferring.

“You aren’t a virgin?” his voice was quiet, almost dark. She felt her entire world shatter. Tom scooted towards her slowly, it was completely unnoticed. She was too deep in panic to recognise the growing flirt rising in the Prince of Wales. y/n shook her head feverously. “That little tick took you?” When he put it like that, it made her stomach tingle. She had never heard such a sentence used in that tone. She was drowning in thoughts.

“I didn’t know what I was doing, that’s why I was so unsatisfied,” she tried to explain, her hands now bunched up the fabric against her knees. “He was just so soft, too soft and I wished he would have-”

“Would have what?” he toyed. Tom doesn’t quite know why he was acting like this. So intent on prying her little secrets out of her. Usually, he would have just simply got straight to the point but now, seeing her become red with frustration was a view causing him great pleasure. Any abstinence he hoped to place upon himself earlier in the night had been thrown out the window. He finally felt back in control, something he longed for. Something she was serving to him on a silver platter.

“I..” she began but the words got caught in her throat. Her tongue stopped completely, almost refusing to finish the damning sentence. She wanted him to be rougher with her, she wanted him to treat her like a woman and not a girl. “What happen to you wishing to keep your hands to yourself?” She attempted to change the topic, trying to flee but to no avail as he quickly caught her wrist in his palms. Their skins igniting on sight.

“Don’t try to change the subject Princess,” he purred, standing up to meet with her at the side of the bed. Her title now held a completely different meaning, it wasn’t being used to describe her. It was being used to utterly destroy her; a nickname only meant to be whispered in the dim light of a dozen candles. “I can see right through you,” Tom’s calloused fingers met the loose fabric on her shoulders, dancing over her collarbone. It was soft but held meaning. “I can see that you wished he touched you differently. Touched you like a real woman, rougher and passionate.”

His words were damned. She should feel ashamed that she was feeling light-headed just by the grazing touch of his fingers above her perked breasts. “Yes,” it was the only thing she could get out. The only single three lettered word that allowed itself out of her mouth. Tom pressed his lips to her neck, underneath her jaw.

“Perhaps, he too was inexperienced.” He spoke through small pecks. “Allow me to show you something different, something better,” it was barely above a whisper, but y/n heard every word. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair as he peered at her.

“I would enjoy that very much,” y/n responded just as quiet, all the gentle touches he currently had placed upon her turned darker. He pulled her into his embrace quickly before tripping her feet from under her and ending atop her on the messily made bed. His hand instantly found the inside of her thigh, his finger bruising her skin. It was delightfully, the slight pain sending shivers down her spine.

Their lips met, gentle at first. Her hands moulding themselves against his jaw, moaning into his mouth as he pushed her deeper into the mattress. She wished she could stay like this forever, wrapping in Tom’s embrace as they mended together. Alas, he pulled away from her. Lips separating with a small pop and a soft whine from y/n underneath him. Tom took a distinct look at her; she was sprawled out and whimpering for something more. Did she give this look to him as well? Did she use the melody that was her voice to beg him to do anything? Tom didn’t particularly wish to replay the thought in his head but yet, he couldn’t help himself.

Her nightgown quickly found itself discarded; her nipples perked in the cold. His lips immediately latched on, massaging the soft tissue. He never knew something could feel this smooth, without any flaws or imperfections. Even though he knew he could spend an entire night between the valley of her tits, he too longed for something more.

In a matter of moments, he found himself staring directly at her sex. A glorious sight to behold, glistening with her arousal in the pale moonlight. She was practically dripping onto the sheets below her. He placed a soft kiss to her pelvis, she jumped at the contact. “If you feel uncomfortable, you need to tell me,” he told her all the while his fingers toyed at her hot hole. Dipping even so slightly into her heat. She was already in euphoria just from the slightest bit of pleasure. y/n nodded her head before locking eyes with him.

He didn’t waste another second, quickly licking a fat stripe through her folds. The taste was pure heaven, he didn’t give her a moment to register the feeling before diving right back into her juices. Sucking and pulling at her, wasting the night away feeling her thighs clamp around his head every time he flicked her clit coupled with a singular finger prancing in and out of her.

y/n wasn’t quite sure how loud she could truly be. She knew that even though they were in the far south-east of the castle, there could be a dozen scullery maids listening right outside the door. Or if someone was trying to achieve some sleep right beside them. At this very moment though, with Tom’s head in between her thighs devouring every inch of her throbbing cunt, she couldn’t give a single fuck. y/n allowed the string of curses and praised to tumble from her lips as she clasped onto the bed sheets for dear life.

“Such a dirty mouth,” Tom remarked, releasing her for a few seconds, “for such a pretty and delicious pussy.” He chuckled darkly. y/n wanted to bite back at him, but she was cut short but the addition of another of his digits sliding into her tight entrance. y/n clasped down hard on her hand. A foreign feeling began to drive itself into her stomach. While unusual, it was not at all exotic to her. It was thrilling, feeling her walls contract around his fingers as y/n began to instinctively rock her hips against his digits.

“God,” he purred, “that’s it, make yourself cum on my fingers Princess. Let me see that gorgeous face while you do it.” Tom had now retracted his mouth from her, completely mesmerised by the way her eyes screwed shut as she reached her peak. A cacophony of beautiful and dazzling sounds stumbling out of her mouth as he felt her climax all over his hand. Such a tantalising sight for any man.

y/n was too deep in her own return that she didn’t notice the retraction of his presences from the middle of her legs. So, when he felt his hands roughly pull her to the edge of the bed, she almost choked. The exhilarating feeling of his strained cock rubbing against her drenched folds made her forget her place. Made her speak before her mind could catch up. “I want you to fulfil the expectation.” She told him, her eyes never wavering from him.

Tom halted all his movements. It was painful but he needed absolute clarity before he did anything without her reassurance. “You need to elaborate Princess,” he told her darkly. He knew exactly what she was asking of him, he knew exactly what she desired.

“I want you to come inside of me,” she spoke as if she was a different person. y/n doesn’t quite know whether it’s the shift of mood or her own personal feelings but either way, she wanted to feel their juices mix and then leak out of her. Wanted him to fill her right up to the brim until the possibility was certain.

“You want me to fuck my seed right into you?” his words were dirtier than she expected but so was he as he slid in and into her. His naval hitting hers with a loud smack. He refused to move until he had played with her just that tad bit more. y/n’s head thrashed into the sheets behind her. She was so full, never has she felt this complete in her entire life. He wasn’t even moving but she could feel every inch of him deep inside of her.

“God yes,” she whimpered. “I need it so bad,” she was going to drive Tom insane. Just by a simple sentence, he was going to lose his mind and cum right now without even doing anything. 

“Want to carry my child, our own Prince or Princess,” he pulled back out of her and slammed right back in, knocking the wind out of her y/n. It was so profoundly dirty, just discussing it. It thrilled her to the very core, child-bearing was meant for women not girls. Perhaps that is why she is so drawn to the talk, the talk of something so primally feminine set her entire body on fire. She couldn’t speak a coherent sentence instead she just let out a continuous plea.

He began slow, hips rocking to find that perfect beat. He revelled in the only sounds in the room, the sound of his cock hitting the divine spot inside of her over and over again and her delirious moaning. It was a symphony he was lucky enough to hear. He wanted to hear more, listen to the pure sounds of him railing into her. So, he picked up the pace. His thrust became not only deep and harsh but fast.

God, if he could immortalise this feeling he would. The feeling of her walls constricting around him as he pounds right into her, the feeling of her legs wrapping around his constantly thrusting hips and the feeling of her sweating skin underneath his fingers as he grips for support. It’s like the Lord himself made her tight little cunt just for him.

“You’re so big,” y/n praised mindlessly. He’s never had someone say that to him without it sounding forced. It’s so raw that he can’t help but go even harder into with each praise that falls off her lips. “Fill me up, I want to feel you all inside of me.” It’s a dangerous game, she’s tapped on something so feral inside of him it hurts.

y/n wants to prop herself up and explore his body while he pounds into her, but she simply can’t. Her limbs give out with every thrust. Her entire body spasms each time he hits the perfect spot inside of her. She a moaning mess, trying to maintain any sense of normality but failing miserably. It’s a constant state of pleasure, she’s afraid that she’s lost track of time. That is until the faint, but all the desirable fit finds itself lit in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m almost there,” she whispers, it’s the only thing she can get out. His thrusts, that once had gained a steady and harsh rhythm are now falling. He’s losing focus with each grip he receives. With her words though, he gives her the final stretch. No longer does he has some form of structure but instead he’s just railing her like a wild animal.

It’s an explosion and neither knows why but it’s addictive. y/n climaxes around him, her toes curling as her final orgasm hits her long and violent. Shaking underneath, him as she unknowingly milks his own finish out of him. Tom’s fucking his cum right into her, he doesn’t stop for a second. Too focused on the goal ahead of him. Placing it where it counts. It’s a feeling he wants to never forget, better yet it’s a sight he wants permanently etched into his memories. As he pulls out of her, their climaxes tumble out of her. Dripping down her leg.

“Hold your legs up Princess,” he teases as he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I heard it works wonders.”

The rose blooms only for those who care properly for her.

━━★✼☆｡

a/n: please don’t flop, omg this is so long and no one asked for this shit. please don’t flop chile 🤡

[stramberryparadice]

SHINGEKI NO KYOJIN #139 - THE IMPOSSIBLE FREEDOM ?

Here is the English translation of the post I wrote here in French.

I apologize in advance for my mistakes, I'm not good in English but I hope that will be understood.

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

Shingeki no kyojin is finished. A leading manga of the 21st century has just ended in tears, blood, mourning, disappointment, frustration… and love. So many emotions come to me when I read this final chapter, I needed to express them as clumsily as it is. I’m sure it’s going to get lost in the Internet, but whatever— it is necessary to remove both the joy and the frustration that I feel to pay tribute to Isayama who offered us a work as powerful as it is cursed.

As intense as it is uneven, as perfect as it is imperfect.. like his tragic hero Eren Jäger, who shows us that men are so weak and pitiful in the face of time and the cruelty of the world. How much even if this hero possesses in his hands the power of a God. My analysis will surely be clumsy, I apologize. And I will not fail to point out at the end the bitterness felt on the final development of some characters including that of Misaka Ackerman.

Eren like “CryBaby”

What a slap for the reader to witness such an emotional picture. Yes. Isayama reminds us to what extent Eren isn't a brave knight, not a charismatic hero, not the genocidal demon of this story but a child.. whose weight of Destiny is too heavy to bear. Scan 139 reminds us to what extent we have lost ourselves, just as Eren has in the way, forgetting the very essence of the story that has been told to us from the beginning. It’s not a story of geopolitical warfare, a biological parasite, titanic monsters, a northern deity, or a philosophical-esoteric trip. It's the story of a boy who wants to emancipate himself, to live for himself, tasted of the thirst for adventure, the tranquility of his loved ones but born in a cruel and alienating world that leaves room only for death, abuse of power, betrayal and despair .

A journey where the child becomes an adult at the cost of his or her life. Learning the most painful lesson… To be an adult is to renounce one’s dreams, to bend one’s knee in the face of the servitude of one’s mortal condition, to be content with one’s cage in order to enjoy the little that one can have at one’s disposal, to mourn those who may disappear from one’s life.

A young boy who dreamed only of freedom, surrounded by people who love him. A child whose inspirations, as impulsive, unreasonable and immature as they may be, will push him to his limits. A child who grew up too fast, who could not mourn his mother, aware of her physical and spiritual weakness, who was confronted with the violence of this world which reminded him of his condition of being insignificant, a pawn on the chessboard of the "Way".

A child whose powers worthy of a God then gives him the possibility to realize the unthinkable, almost the absolute fantasy of every Man : to shape a world in his image, to be as free as a bird flying above the clouds without reddish stain to touch the sky. Move forward, Move forward whatever the price… move forward for an illusion of freedom, for an infantile obsession.

And by assuming the role of the wicked “demon” of tales so that the brave knights can free this world from the evil that eats it.

Lost between the present, the past, the future.. time no longer makes sense. Only finality counts, annihilating its titans whatever the price. They have to pay for his mother. They have to pay for his fallen comrades. They must pay for reminding us of our pitiful helplessness as human beings.

But the Demon also has a heart, remorse, feelings, there are people who attach him to this world. Therefore, what to choose?

Divine Freedom or Mortal Love? The impossible equation... Although Eren may have travelled the road in search of the answer, how can freedom and humanity be reconciled? Free your people and protect your loved ones, though imperfect?

______

He will not find the answer— neither by searching the past of the goddess Ymir, not by consulting the other Titans carriers, not by creating the different alternative realities that led to the same observation… only death can free the bird from its cage, only the death of Humanity is able to reconcile the sublime and the hideous. Or rather, a common enemy that will crystallize all their ills. But who would be crazy, brave enough to accept being the victime ?

Like a Christic figure, Eren will assume this role. But not without having to confide his last wishes, his last secrets that can no longer contain… because yes, the demon is limited by his adult condition of 19 years. Yes.. the child has grown up. Recklessness, impulsiveness, daring in the face of death, the omnipotence of the child leaves room for a teenager who is now afraid of dying, who has succumbed to love, who doubts, who is aware of his weakness.

Eren has finally become a man...in pain. He finally accepts his feelings, his weakness in the face of death that awaits him.

He’s not a running child anymore. The plates are only explicit about this. The power of narration.. we come back to the fundamental of this history, which is human psychology. The feelings, the relationships that unite all people between them. Friends or enemies, men or women, child or adult, Eldien or Mahr... Despite our differences, our disagreements, we are all equal and weak in the face of death... but also in the face of the love we can bring to others.

Yes, Eren is a weak hero. Yes, he admits to loving Mikasa. He admits that until the very end, he didn't know how it was going to go. That he was himself a pawn in the divine game of Ymir. Another puppet at the service of a little girl who is also blinded by her duality, by her toxic love for her executioner. One cannot remain insensitive to this remarkable development of the character of Eren whose death was inevitable. For whoever plays with divinities can only lose his humanity, his freedom too. By the ultimate sacrifice of his selfish and human desires finally. Eren alone became the true savior of this world. He will also have kept his promise to his friends, to the beings he loves by offering them last memories through the “Way”.

Selfless Love or True Freedom

As Mikasa said: The world is cruel, but also … Very beautiful.

Whoever sets a glance without hatred on the world, with compassion, with love for his neighbor will be able to claim to touch with the finger this Freedom so sought.. a selfless love, not turned to satisfy one’s own selfish desires.

Because Love, like hate, takes different forms.

Love connecting us to our roots, our family of blood…

Love binding two beings who love each other, desire each other, cherish each other, seek each other….

Love that binds us to his comrades, his battalion, his family of choice, his heart…

Love that life brings to us in all its forms…

Love… this power that is unpredictable and uncontrollable.

And that can become the obsession of a lifetime. It is by becoming an obsession that love becomes as destructive as hatred, and sends us back to our condition as an alienated Man… locked up in his “Path”, in his cage.

It's by demonstrating resilience and self-sacrifice that man can taste freedom. We can find redemption in the love that others have for him, that we also have for him. For a few hours, a few years…

At the cost of a renewal of the cycle of hatred, because man remains selfish, not all are ready to make sacrifices. Therefore, Mikasa and Eren have made the greatest of sacrifices for the survival of their comrades and the world: they give up their chance to be happy together, sacrifice their desire to be together for the rest of humanity. As in tragedies, the main heroes are victims of Destiny, are those who will pay the price so that others can flourish and live. The children have become adults.

Just as Armin is no longer the whiny little boy to protect. Unlike Eren, he managed to learn from his mistakes, grieve, face his own fears, confess his love to the girl he loves. It is finally he who will raise the wounded little boy, who will comfort him.

The frustration

Mikasa is the main character of the story. It's through her that awakening is made, it is through her hand that she closes this long journey. In Eren’s memories, it is always central. It is the key, the final solution.

It's his psychological, his emotional journey that we will follow throughout the manga. Eren is only a complement, the character who crystallizes his goals. In a world where men are “dominant”, the woman must bend her knee, support her prince so that the light shines on him. Isayama knew how to play perfectly on this classic code of narration. Whether one agrees or not with the conclusion of certain female characters, the work often highlights the fact that men are only victims of their passions and obsessions.

-------

Only women seem to emerge victorious in the face of the cruelty of the world : they take up arms (Historia), continue to fight in the face of despair (Mikasa), enjoy life and bring joy around her (Sasha), support other women in their emancipations ( Ymir with Historia) question their education (Gaby) disobey (Annie), go against the “moral” principles to survive (Ymir Frizt who continues to love his executioner), sacrifice for the common good (Hanzi Zoe)… But of course… without also paying the price of sacrifice and making concessions.

Historia bears a child of a man whom she does not seem to like but assumes the role of the mother whom she would have liked to have while assuming the heavy attribute of the office of Queen in a country plagued by nationalist tendencies guided by fear. With Eren’s help, she did not give in to the temptation of self-sacrifice but decided herself who she would save or not, what path she wanted to follow. Her desire was to be a mother, a good mother. Whatever the father, it was an indestructible motherly love that she wanted to offer to a child. The one she never had.

Mikasa agreed to kill Eren because, if she had given him another answer, their life as fugitives would have been but a fleeting dream and Eren’s death was inevitable.

Despite her powerful love for Eren (as addicted as he may be, explained by the power of the Ackermans?), she will break the chains of her servitude by killing her only Love. She is the light. She accomplished the journey of a true heroine by demonstrating resilience, by giving of herself for the world.

She had only eyes for Eren.. was open to others, to show empathy, a desire to continue living for other comrades who are dear to him.

-------

Mikasa also leads the way in Ymir Fritz… you can love a monster, you can be a prisoner of a toxic relationship but you can free yourself from it. One can become free, but the price to pay will be to carry this infinite sadness, this frustration of having been able to live another story if things would have been different. By her kiss, she showed what true Love is.

Although the frustration is present, although we would have liked her to turn the page and rebuild her life, she must also pay the price of her “freedom”, of her “survival”: haunted by the sacrifice of Eren, guardian of her memories, from her grave as if to preserve her existence as long as she can live.

Once again, women show that they are stronger than we think. So Ymir was also able to free himself of his toxic link with the King by making the Titans disappear.

In the image of the bittersweet end of the chapter, which shows us that the disappearance of a monster, of a divine force “responsible” for the horrors, is not the long-awaited salvation.

The vices, the human fears will remain the poison, preventing us from reaching this illusory freedom. Men do not need deities to dig their own way to death.

-----

From "occidental" point of view, it is true that this is a blow to the “strong” women of the work still alive. Reduced to being collateral victims of Love, as toxic as this link may be (Ymir-Mikasa). Reduced to attaching themselves to winning or losing romantic figures depending on whether their love-interests is the villain of the story (Mikasa-Annie). Reduced to their role as mother-benefactor (Historia-Gaby).

It’s awkward, but I think Isayama wanted to show that no one is spared. That no character can claim complete tranquility and sweet freedom.

Everyone has had to sacrifice something to survive, and women and men are equal in this judgment. Women also remain victims in a world that remains dominated also by the cruelty of Men (the human race in general). They are not completely free, they are also trapped in roles.

Everyone carries the weight of his choice. That characters have a duty to remember, to pass on to future generations the horrors they have lived to try not to reproduce the same mistakes. Even if their new life choices are imperfect, disappointing for those on the outside.

Levi sacrificed many of his comrades to fulfill his promise to Erwin in his quest for truth and to continue the fight for Eldian freedom.

Armin and Mikasa sacrificed Eren: their friend, their love, the dearest being to fulfill their promise to discover the outside world and touch that freedom.

Like Levi Ackerman and his love for his battalion comrades. As for Mikasa and his love for Eren (because she saw the human behind the monster). She has been waiting for a sign for 3 years to see him again in order to follow up on “see you later Eren”.

Finally, a bird comes to give him his wrap. To encourage him to go forward again. To continue to live…

--------

The most free people are those who honestly and sincerely love someone. Those who are able to see the beauty of the world despite its ugliness. Who give without waiting for return. Those who continue to look at the world without hatred, those who do not succumb to its cruelty. Tears are running down…

[srhlsx]

master | chapter 2 | CHAPTER 3 | chapter 4

warnings: none

Waking up in a bed that was not familiar to you, you had to take a few moments to stretch your back and neck and work out the kinks that had formed over night. A loud groan erupted from your chest, the pleasure of stretching making your eyes roll in the back of your head as you let your body wake up more. Sitting up, the soft covers slipped down your body and bunched in your lap revealing your typical nightgown.

The sound of a throat clearing across the room made your eyes blink open, your gaze shifting to see a tall figure seated lazily on a couch. His hair looked disheveled but he was dressed neatly in a pair of cropped black dress pants with a white button up tucked into the waistband. He was handsome, no one could deny that, but he averted his gaze away from your figure as he covered his mouth with a fist as he coughed.

“Well, good morning.” You greeted, a slight smirk forming on your face from the surprise of seeing him there. You took note of the folded blanket and pillow resting on the opposite end of the couch from him, your thoughts connecting. “You didn’t seriously sleep there last night, did you?”

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate a stranger crawling into bed with you,” He seemed to finally find his nerve and turned to face you as he spoke. “Especially in the middle of the night.”

“When you hadn’t come up by midnight I kind of gave up on you coming to bed at all,” You said. “Your mother made it seem like you knew I’d be staying in your room with you.”

“She’s not my mother.” He was quick to correct. “And I did know, I just got caught up with a few things.”

“Mhmm,” You hummed, lips pursing together in thought. There was something deeper going on there but you definitely didn’t think it was your place to explore - yet. “Anyways, I’m (Y/n).”

You crawled forward to the edge of the bed, extending your hand out in his direction. He hesitated a moment, face contorting into an expression of almost amusement as he lifted himself up to his feet and took a few large steps towards you. His hand completely enveloped yours as he took it in his grasp, long fingers wrapping around your own and giving it a shake. “Kuroo,” He said, then continuing with a shrug. “Or Tetsurō, whatever you want since we’re getting married.”

“That we are,” You nodded, giving him a small smile and raising an eyebrow. After a moment you sat back on the bed, Kuroo tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants casually as he looked down at you. The muscles in his arms strained against the fabric of his shirt as Kuroo shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So, what now?”

“Have you toured the grounds yet?” Kuroo asked. You shook your head no and he nodded in response. “Your new guard can show you around. He’s waiting outside, I’ll introduce you whenever you are ready.”

“You won’t be the one to show me around?” You asked, the tone of your voice having a blunt edge to it. You narrowed your eyes slightly, shoulders slumping as you realized he was probably trying to get away as soon as possible. 

“I have a few other obligations already,” He said, eyes shifting away from your gaze. “But I’ve arranged for our dinner to be served here tonight so I’ll meet back up with you then.”

You nodded your head and Kuroo noted the sour look forming on your face, but it wasn’t like there was much he could do to change it now. “Right. Dinner.” You said, getting out of bed to pad over to the bathroom to start getting ready - not bothering to adjust how your nightgown had become skewed. “Well, you can go. I can take care of myself.”

Kuroo didn’t doubt that. He had heard plenty about the princess from Chubu and as you shut the door to the bathroom behind you he knew he hadn’t made the greatest of first impressions. Kuroo cursed to himself under his breath, hesitating for a moment, wondering if he should apologize to you but thinking better of it as he heard the shower start.

“She’s getting ready,” He mumbled to the guard standing outside the bedroom door. The wide-eyed guard nodded in understanding, his silent demeanor no surprise to the prince. “Just show her around, make sure no one bothers her too much.”

“Yes, your highness.”

- 

You had gotten word halfway through your tour of the castle that the Queen had requested your presence. You were just about to sit down for lunch when a messenger came into the dining area, making you pause and glance over at your guard - Fukunaga - who you had introduced yourself to earlier that morning. He didn’t react other than blinking slowly, which in your mind was all you needed to know about the ‘spur of the moment’ timing of the Queen.

You followed the messenger to the far end of the west wing of the castle, Fukunaga following a few steps behind. He told you he would wait for you outside the double doors you were being ushered through, revealing not only the Queen but Alisa and a gaggle of other women as well.

“(Y/n),” You were greeted by the soft smile of the Queen as she motioned with her hands for you to step forward. “I’m sorry this is so sudden, but I thought we would want to get preparations started as soon as possible.”

You followed her gaze to a small pedestal where a woman with measuring tape was waiting. Chewing at the inside of your cheek, you ignored the growling of your stomach and nodded your head. You were sure it was no coincidence that the Queen had wanted to interrupt your meal for you to get measured.

“It’s tradition for the groom to pick the bride’s dress in Kanto weddings,” She smiled as you stepped up to the platform, letting your limbs be pulled in all directions as the women around you helped you undress. The Queen gave you a not-so-subtle glance from top to bottom, eyeing the light and colorful clothing you had chosen to wear that day. “Although for us it might be for the best, since you don’t quite dress the way we do here.”

“Dark clothes aren’t typically in fashion back home, your majesty.” You responded, sucking in a breath as the cold hands of the seamstress began taking your measurements. “It’ll take some time to get used to the change.”

“Yes, yes.” She waved off your concern, motioning for one of the women in her group waiting off to the side to step forward and begin taking notes. “Now that we have your measurements, we can start adjusting your wardrobe as well.”

“I’d like to keep some color,” You spoke to the girl taking notes, her eyes shifting between you and the Queen a few times, like she was making sure what you were saying was okay. “I’m still going to be queen of Chubu, I’d like to keep that identity.”

“Of course.” The queen refrained from clipping her words too much, opting instead to flash a closed-eye smile at you with her hands clasped in front of her. “Well, I must get going, I just wanted to make sure you were taken care of here.”

“Thank you, your majesty.” You bowed as best you could while still being pulled and pinched by the seamstress.

You watched as the Queen and her group of followers left the room, waiting until you were sure the doors were shut before turning to Alisa with wide eyes. You grabbed at her arm, making her stutter back in surprise and turn to you with concern. 

“Your highness?”

“Food,” You practically gasped. “Please, ask Fukunaga to get me some food.”

Alisa let out a loud sigh of relief, surely thinking you were going to snap at her about something else. She was glad to see that you were just hungry and unafraid to ask for food. “Right away, your highness.”

“Also,” You stopped her right as she had turned away. She turned around quickly, eyes wide wondering what else you might need. “(Y/n) is fine.”

Her smile lit up her face as she nodded, turning back around to the door and leaving you to the mercy of the seamstress once again.

- 

“Tell me about your mother.”

Kuroo paused his chewing and looked at you sideways without quite turning his head. After a beat, his mouth started moving again and he swallowed before speaking up. “What do you mean?”

You gestured vaguely in the air to encourage him to talk. “Your mother, the first queen.” You said. “This morning you told me the queen is not your mother, but she’s been married to your father for, what? About fifteen years now. She’s really the only queen the country knows much about.”

Kuroo nodded thoughtfully, thinking to himself how he wanted to answer your questions. It wasn’t often that people asked about his birth mother since she had died some twenty-plus years ago when he was just a child. While his father’s second wife certainly helped raise Kuroo, there was always that underlying feeling of a connection never being made.

“I don’t remember much,” Kuroo said. “But I know I look like her.”

You sat back and studied the man before you, his features and the way he moved. The two of you were sitting on opposite couches in your living quarters, the low table with an exquisite spread of food before you serving almost as a barrier between the two of you. He seemed to not want to make much eye contact with you, which was a little surprising. The confident persona he created towards the general public had disappeared behind closed doors.

 “I’m sure it’s been hard,” You said as you continued to watch him. “My mother has been sick my entire life, so I guess in a sense I can understand.”

“I’m not looking for pity.” He said, glancing towards you from the corner of his sharp eyes. “I barely knew her.”

“Ah yes, there he is.” You nodded with a knowing smirk, leaning back against the plush cushion of the couch. “The strong prince, hardened by the tragedy of his past.”

“Talk about hardened by tragedy,” Kuroo gave you a look, nodding in your direction before taking a sip of his drink. “I believe you wrote the book.”

You continued to smirk at him, appreciating the way he finally seemed to drop the proper act and talk to you. “Just one chapter,” You replied smartly, making the corner of his lips twitch ever so slightly upwards. “Well anyways, I suppose it’s for the best that two people like us get married.”

“Why do you say that?” Kuroo looked at you, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, hands folded together as he eyed you.

“We’re both obviously miserable, no thanks to our families of course.” You shrugged. “And as they say, misery loves company.”

A pause, breath hanging in the air between the two of you, before Kuroo spoke up - his eyes narrowed and studied you closely. “Are you really so miserable, Princess?” He asked.

“Are you offering to fix that, Prince?” You shot back, maybe a little more hotly than what was necessary. Kuroo quirked an eyebrow at your snippy response. You looked away from him quickly, sucking at your front teeth before responding. “Sorry. I’m still working on that.”

“The attitude or the mindset?” Kuroo snorted, a breathy chuckle leaving his nose as he settled against the back of his own couch. “Because both could use a little work.”

“You really do like poking at people, don’t you?” 

“It’s fun to push buttons and get a rise out of someone,” He shrugged casually. “People usually show their true colors when they are annoyed or angry.”

“True colors, huh? Are you trying to discover the real me?” Kuroo half smirked at your question, raising a shoulder lazily as he slung and arm across the back to the couch. You eyed him warily. “You may not like it.”

“We’ll see about that, Princess.”

-

TAGS: @turquoiselace @akasuns @edensxgarden @iguessimastannow @carbs-need-more-love @ack-aashi @weebartistinc @semiathleticnerdykid @foryearsnyears @kuxredere @yatoatyourservice @rirk-ke @weebintheinternet  @hajartemis @kiyobbie @aegeanblues @guardianangelswings @lukaseu @aj--honey​ @shiningstar-byulxx​

[aamu16]

How the Earth got a second moon (Naruto AU). Part II. About the Uchiha’s and the Senju’s.

+Indra manages to find a girl who isn’t scared silly by Kurama, now stuck by his side because “it’s fun to watch him try and fail to communicate with humans” (his words).

+She’s black hair and razors in her tongue. Kurama likes when those razors are directed to Indra or some third party who understimate them (he loves those, Kurama laughs so hard he wheezes).

+As the children come and grow playing with Kurama’s tails and burying themselves in his soft fur, Indra gives them the surname of his wife, “Uchiha”, and she dress them in deep blues and purples with a red fan in embroiderer in the back (she had lost a bet with her sister-in-law and she a woman of her word).

+Kurama watches them grow and grows solemn as Indra and Ashura meet, maybe for the last time, with white hairs to share a bottle of good old sake.

+Ashura offers the protection of their old land, Indra refuses for himself, he has a duty their Father trusted him with but promises to tell his wife and children.

+She refuses, and so do the children. They were raises by godly existences and the bijuu’s will watched over them as much the Uchiha’s will watch over the bijuu’s. Indra’s duty passes down to his children.

+Indra calls the bijuu’s to say farewell and promises to reincarnate, again and again, for as long as they exist. The bijuu tie a fragment of their chakra to Indra’s soul as it leaves the Ootsutsuki soul leaves the mortal plane, to reincarnate, somewhere, somewhen.

+Ashura finds Kurama and they reminisce about Indra. Ashura promises to share Indra’s duty for eternity, it’s his time to help his brother.

+Ashura looks at the small young second moon in the sky and smirks, “serves you right” he thinks, and feels his soul leave his body surronded by his family.

+Ashura’s children separate in two branches: the Uzumaki, his youngest son’s wife surname; and the Senju, his first daughter’s husband’s surname. His eldest decides to let die the Ootsutsuki name and regrets nothing, not when he sees his husband’s brilliant smile with eyes as loving as the first day.

+Centuries pass and the Senju, Uzumaki, and Uchiha grow distant from one another. They settle for neutrality when the old records fall apart.

+The Senju staid in the land of Fire while the Uzumaki migrated to the sea, the Uchiha wander following the signals of the bijuu’s and earn quite the reputation: favored by the gods, demons, red eyed demi-gods, cursed-eyed, take your pick.

+The clans and shinobi still try to get their blessed cursed eyes while by stealing or marriage, the shinobi more prone to the first option than the nobles.

+Kurama migrates from the deserts to the forest, he feels Indra’s soul coming back.

+At the same time, the Uchiha’s head holds his first born in his arms. He has the feeling that he will be one of the greatest if not The Greatest Uchiha since Indra. His mother wipes because a hero can only be born from tragedy, and she’s right.

+As soon as Madara is aware of his surroundings he tugs his father’s pants and points towards the East. The elders can feel the tug of their principal deity, Kurama, the nine tailed bijuu, in said direction. He decides to start training Madara as soon as he can, that’s the direction of the land of Fire, where more shinobi clans than not habit, and they’re all eager to get their hands on the sharingan... or the Kyubi.

+Madara is a genius, he makes his first kill at five when a Nara tries to ambush his pregnant mother as she recollects edible berries. She can’t exactly figth and hunt when she’s seven months pregnant. She shush his crying and bath him clean of blood.

+Izuna is the most precious little thing Madara has ever laid his eyes on, when Izuna grabs his finger, Madara swears he will always protect him. There’re few things as shameful to Uchihas than to become oathbreakers, even if the oath it to themselves.

+When the Uchiha reach the Land of Fire, and after quite a bit of conflicts with the resident shinobi clans, Madara meets a boy by the riverbank. He doesn’t know why he feels like Hashirama’s presence fills a void in his chest he never noticed before.

+Soon, the heads of the Senju’s and the Uchiha’s clash, the Uchiha’s wants to travel through their territory, the Senju do not want to let them go. Even if the clan heir look at the black haired, corded muscled Uchiha envoy as if he wanted to ask a million and one things, Tobirama manages to glare him into sumission.

+As things stand, the Uchiha’s try two more times nicely before a greedy elder schemes to either get an Uchiha bride or kill a sharingan user. The war breaks out.

+Madara can’t believe that Hashirama is a Senju, his enemy, a eyestealer. It just feels wrong, but he can feel the pull of the East, someone is waiting for him.

+The first time Madara calls, truly calls, upon the bijuu, a privilege reserved for Indra; it’s in this situation: an albino Senju is making rapid progress towards Izuna section and he can already see the result of their clash. He loves his little brother and knows him to be a great shinobi, but Madara had an oath to himself and no Uchiha is an oathbreaker.

+Kurama’s paw lands between the two, and the whole world is stunned enough they forget that they’re fighting.

+Hashirama calls upon his mokuton the moment he register that a huge, red eyed, nine tailed, mountain sized fox is looking towards his little brother like he wants to eat him.

+Kurama laughs, half-hysteric, as he realizes that ‘Indra’ and ‘Ashura’ are in opposites sides of the battlefield. He still fights by ‘Indra’’s (Madara, he learns later, his name now was Madara) side as the Uchiha’s retreat. Their obtetive was already achived: their guardian was with them.

+The Senju try to smooth the whole thing by setting a trial for the man that started it all. The Uchiha’s do not come despite the invitation.

+Hashirama sits by the river of his childhood and prays that Madara comes one day, so they can talk and apologize and plan so they can build the village of their dreams. Hashirama misses Madara as long as he waits for him.

+A year pass before Kurama gets tired of their shit and sends Madara flying towards the river, Hashirama does his best to catch him, but it only result in messing Madara’s planned emergency landing. They end up in the floor in a tangle of limbs, but it hurts indefinetly less than the landing Madara had planning. Hashirama starts laughing with Madara still in his arms, the Uchiha joins soon enough.

+Madara and Hashirama reconnect and feel like the hole in their hearts gets filled again. They swear to built their village as soon as they become clan heads.

+Kurama tells Madara’s father about Ashura’s soul and he promises to give up the mattle to Madara as soon as Hashirama’s father either steps down or dies, wichever comes first.

+Hashirama’s father, Butsuma Senju, dies four years later. The conflict with the Uchiha’s was already no longer in its peak, so when Madara, recently elected clan leader, accepts the treaty and proposition from the new Senju leader, there’s not as much opposition as it would have if they had continue fighting.

+Kurama smirks as the village is built and the Uchiha’s settle, ‘This is good enough,’ he thought. ‘They’re not homeless anymore’.

+From then on, story repeats itself, Hashirama is elected Hokage while Madara reteats to the forest with Kurama. The Uchiha’s have all the power they need to make it count, few people would go against a ‘god’, much less a ‘demon’. Kurama is happy to leave the interpretation to them.

+The Uchiha’s pass down in Konoha’s history as protectors of the village, keepers of the demons and servers of the old religion. Danzou hates it.

[jxndds]

isekai/reincarnation manhwas

Beatrice

Having previously been a slave in her youth, Chloe was revealed to be an illegitimate child of the King of Elpasa, and is raised to the level of a Princess and renamed Beatrice, all in order to secure a political marriage to a toady man, as the king was unwilling to marry his legitimate daughters to him. After two years of hellish marriage, the Kingdom of Elpasa falls before the blade of the Empire's Archduke, its greatest hero. In order to survive her new enslavement Princess Beatrice re-assumes the guise of 'Chloe' as a slave of the Empire. But then, she catches the eye of that very same hero...

The Archduke wonders who is this squirrelly short-haired young woman, who is so surprisingly educated for a slave, and who is terrified of him, not knowing that he butchered the Elpasa Royal Family in front of her and enslaved her himself. What will become of them, since she proves to be one of his only sources of levity?

 Beware of the Villainess

I became the villainess of a novel! Do I hate it? No! I find it rather nice. A duke’s daughter = a jobless rich person. How I can miss out on a chance like this?! This is the best chance to just enjoy life. I should throw out the main plot and just live life how I want to! Not long after waking up as the villainess, I witnessed my fiancé, the novel’s male lead, the crowned prince, cheating. I saw him embrace a lady other than I and he was smiling so bright. I was brought to tears… Just kidding, I didn’t cry! My tears are worth too much to be wasted on that garbage. Instead of tears, I yelled out, “Your highness, are you trash?” The main character with a personality of a refreshing soda! The girl-crush protagonist that will completely throw out the main story! Why? Because it’s a waste for a girl to be surrounded by cheap cars. (cars = men)

 Death is the Only Ending for the Villainess

Penelope Eckart reincarnated as the adopted daughter of Duke Eckart and the villainess of a reverse harem dating sim. The problem is, she entered the game at its hardest difficulty, and no matter what she does, death awaits her at every ending! Before the "real daughter" of Duke Eckart appears, she must choose one of the male leads and reach a happy ending in order to survive. But the two brothers always pick a fight with her over every little thing, as well as a crazy crown prince, whose routes all lead to death. There's even a magician who's enamoured with the female lead, and a loyal slave knight! But somehow, the favourability meters of the male leads increase the more she crosses the line with them!

 Doctor Elise

Song Ji Hyeon is a surgeon, as well as a genius doctor appointed as the youngest lecturer at Seoul University. She carries memories of a previous life as Elise De Clorence who lived as a wicked woman. Suddenly an unexpected accident occurs and when she wakes up, she's back in her previous life?! Will Elise be able to correct her past mistakes?

 Empress of Another World

Crossing over into another world and time after a freak accident, Korean highschool girl Sabina is taken in by a duke of the Crentia kingdom— only to soon be offered up to the ugly old emperor as a concubine. When the king is killed by a mysterious assassin, Sabina must face the poisonous circle of other candidates in a battle for the royal seat. Can she attract the loyalty and affection of the men and women she needs on her side to survive?

 I Am a Child Of This House

"Pink Eyes", a young girl, has lived a life filled with battery and abuse by her mother, but she has two unexpected factors that may play a role in her life: first, she has gained memories of her previous life as Seo Young, a 23 year-old Korean woman, and second, she is a nobleman's illegitimate daughter.

One day, her prostitute mother takes her to the empire's sole Duke and claims that the girl is his child to gain alimony from him. Although he seems to not believe her, he nevertheless buys "Pink Eyes" for 20,000 gold. With that, her new life as "Estelle" starts.

But what truly awaits her? And is she really a child of this house?

 I Became The Emperor's Daughter One Day

A car accident allowed her to cross the magical world, she was reincarnated to a baby! She participated in a competition and won. Then, she was adopted by the emperor and became a princess. However, the other adopted princesses are all given with luxury treatment. But why is it that only she lives in small firewood house? She is also beaten and bullied by the other princesses? She will do whatever it takes to fight back. When she shows a brave fighting spirit, the cold-blooded emperor finally came and said to her: "This little brat, is a little interesting."

 I Became the Villain's Mother

I became the mother of 'Ainspanner', who was presumed to be the final mastermind of this novel. I was supposed to be a bad stepmother who abused him when he was a child and eventually became the first to be killed by him when he became an adult.

I was thinking of a plan to escape my tragic fate when I saw the young future villain and the naive, innocent look on his face. However...

"What an adorable child! He’s so cute I want to bite him! How could anyone abuse him?"

He was so cute that I couldn’t believe he would become a villain when he grew up. So, I decided. I will protect him. This way, he’ll save me too when he’s all grown up.

 I Choose the Emperor Ending

Obsessed with medieval fantasies, Marina develops a revolutionary VR device that can bring fictional worlds to life. Her dreams come true when she transports herself to Lasnorok, the setting of her own novel. The problem is, she can't get back out! Disguised as a runaway slave boy named Rino, she comes face-to-face with the main character she created, the ambitious Edward Allen Dihas. Can Marina help him overthrow the emperor and survive to make it out alive?

 I don't want to be Empress [Empress? Empress!]

I don’t want to be the empress! Serena, the daughter of a noble is full of intelligence, status and appearance. But the truth is that she said that in her past life she was aware of the tragedies that could occur in the future. It will be that Serena can escape from this tragedy!

 Inso's Law

“I just want to live a normal life, why is this happening to me!”

Your average student Ham Dan, whose hobby was reading “Law of Inso” wakes up to a beautiful novel like heroine. But even in the world of fantasy novels, her role is no different. Stuck as the childhood friend of the heroine, her normal everyday life comes to an end, becoming more twisted by her strong character.

 Seduce the Villain's Father

Upon opening my eyes after a bus accident, I found myself in the fantasy world of a webnovel I enjoyed reading... the only catch is, I reincarnated 20 years before the novel begins! Reborn as Princess Yerenica of the small Lebovny kingdom, I'm determined to change the future in order to prevent the series of unfortunate events that will soon occur.

In the original story, my older sister, Tejavia, is pregnant with the future female lead, when she's suddenly kidnapped by the Belgoat Empire's emperor. But in my desperate attempts to protect her, I got kidnapped instead! And as if that wasn't bad enough, my body is ridiculously weak to magic. But... strangely enough, whenever I'm by the emperor, I feel fine!

The only way to save the emperor, who's destined to die at the hands of his own son after marrying the villainess, and save myself from being afflicted by magic... is for us to marry!

 Sincerely: I Became a Duke's Maid

I woke up one day inside the story of a novel as the maid of the disgraced Duke and side character, Alejandro Quillo Vel Laviti. Will Alejandro’s fate change with the my appearance as a new ‘extra’ character? What is the truth behind his cursed mark?

 Suddenly Became A Princess One Day [Who Made Me A Princess]

When I opened my eyes, I was a princess!

But why does it have to be a princess in this romance novel who has the fate of death from her own blood-related father!

If I want to live, I will have to stay away completely of his sight. However...

"Since when did this kind of scumbag started living in my castle?"

Not a single drop of blood nor tear to drop, that cruel and cold emperor, Claude!

Will Athanasia who has entered his eyes survive?

"I... What should I do..."

 Survive as the Hero's Wife

The protagonist has been reincarnated as Canaria, the villain of a popular cliché novel. According to the novel, she is destined to be executed by her husband! Determined to survive, her objective is simple: get a divorce! Will her plans be enough to save her life, or will unexpected circumstances arise to complicate matters even further?

 The Emperor's Companion

After making a deal with God, she is reincarnated into a new world fully ready to dedicate her life to her younger sibling. However, things aren't so simple when she attracts the attention of the Emperor. Can't a girl just look after her sibling with no man?

 The Emperor's Daughter [Daughter of the Emperor]

Ariadna Lereg Ilestri Pre Agrigent. And so my life begins with this ridiculously long name, born to royalty and the centre of attention — all because of one dangerous man; the veritably insane tyrant king, ruthless conqueror of ten empires, nightmare of all continents… and my father?! Will I be able to survive this maniac?

 The Evil Lady's Hero

Yunifer Magnolia was the best friend of the novel's heroine, Rael Cania, until her love for the male lead turned her into a villainess. Her harassment of Rael, Ishid's lover, condemned her to death at the hands of Cassian, the Crown Prince.

"So I reincarnated as... Yunifer?!"

This Yunifer wants to live, though! To stay safe, she decides to avoid all the main characters of the novel. But one drunken encounter with Ishid ruins all her plans...

"I don't do one-night stands."

"Then let's say we just started dating!"

Will Yunifer be able to correct her own twisted fate? Or will she face death once more, as foretold by the novel?

 The Golden-Haired Elementalist

I thought I was dead, but when I woke up, I was reincarnated as a nobleman's daughter?! The only thing I did in the seventeen years of my first life was studying. Now that I'm alive again, I won't live just to study! The second life of an ordinary middle school girl with a slightly strange personality, Jeanie Crowell, begins an unstoppable journey on this continent!

 The Justice of Villainous Woman

With a broken heart, Hwayoung falls headfirst into the river by accident but wakes up as infamous villainess Satiana Altisee Kaylon. Coming to terms with her new life as sole daughter of House Kaylon, Satiana is soon chosen as a candidate for the next empress! In the palace full of schemers and liars, she must become a cold-blooded villainess to win her royal seat by the crown prince - or her new family will face grave danger! Will being perfectly evil really be enough? ‘Cause even villains need love!

 The Pet of the Villainess [The Antagonist's Pet]

"My dear villainess, do whatever you want to do. Just don't see that son of a bitch."

A girl dies and is reincarnated as Sasha, the daughter of a poor noble family in a romance novel she used to read. To survive in her new life, she approaches noble ladies with her innocent appearance and cold wit. Hence, she got the nickname 'The Nobles' Pet.'

Rebecca, the villainess of the original work and the Prince's fiancee, appears in front of Sasha, who's using her talent to live the sweet life. Knowing the end of the original, Sasha tried to stay away from Rebecca, but she cannot take her eyes off her cool and collectedness! So Sasha uses her cuteness as a deadly weapon to stand between Rebecca and the womanizer Crown Prince... and... can Sasha survive and win Rebecca's favor?

 The Reason Why Raeliana Ended Up at the Duke's Mansion

Poisoned to death by her own betrothed?! Eunha didn’t wake up in a novel’s story just to get killed off again as an unfortunate extra! To change her story she needs a cover… 6 months pretending to be the fake fiancée of the novel's male protagonist, Duke Noah Wynknight. But will this cold-hearted, angel-faced demon of a man really help her avoid another ill-fated ending?!

 The Youngest Princess

The archmage who ruled over a magic kingdom.

One day, she was reborn as the youngest daughter of the empire!

“I’ll just play along and pretend to be a baby.

...But don’t you think you guys like me a little too much?”

They won’t leave her alone.

 This Is an Obvious Fraudulent Marriage

The Sophen country had been destroyed by the empire. The sole daughter of a count family, Leylin Efran, had to find a husband to be able to inherit her family. So she wouldn't have to suffer through loveless marriage, Leylin decided to find a husband to have a one-year contract marriage with. In the middle of her quest, a young and dashing man appeared before her. Leylin was convinced this is the right man for her, but is he truly the answer to Leylin's perilous situation?

 Villainous Princess

One day I woke up in the body of Violet, the villainess character of the novel "For Shannon." Violet had a beautiful face, wealth, and was even a princess! She was a woman who had almost everything but her life was ruined when she chased after the one thing she didn't have - love. Now that I'm her, I can change her fate because I don't need love!

[avalon987]

Mana or your life force

In the beginning of this pandemic, I was inspired to write about what resources our ancestors found to face adversity. The text I’m about to share is the result of my research. This text it’s a compilation of different polynesian legends.

THE WATERFALL

Moorea

French Polynesia

1556

When Mana’arii was born, the sound of thunder resonated.

Something was clogged in his throat.

His grandmother helped him to breathe, and she saved his life.

It was a great relief when Manuarii screamed so loud to take his first breath.

Poerava thought that his grandson was full of vigour. He would become a great warrior like his father.

It was the best thing you could hope for a boy.

Mana’arii was a healthy baby with a solid appetite.

He grew up with his two older sisters, his little brother and the rest of the children of the clan.

He had an adventurous personality.

He was regularly scolded because he liked to climb to the top of trees. He often had minor injuries.

His mother was particularly worried that he had a bad influence on his brother who followed him everywhere.

But somehow, Mana’arii managed to reach the age of adolescence without too many problems.

It was time for him to pass the initiation rite that would mark his transition to adulthood.

The goal was to be connected with the spirits of the ancestors.

It was a three day retreat with other adolescents supervised by four adults who were great warriors. You had to wrestle with the adults to know your limits which would push you to remain humble.

Mana’arii was not deterred when they asked the adolescents who wanted to go first, he gladly volunteered.

He was defeated each time, but it had shown him that could get back up to face adversity.

At end the of the retreat, all the adolescents prayed with the adults to the universe and the ancestors to guide them through their lives. You showed gratitude for the gifts that the nature brought.

Two years after the retreat, Mana’arii became a very dynamic man.

It was time for him to be married but no girls really caught his fancy.

It was at this moment that the chief’s niece arrived to be married to a warrior from of different clan they called the people from the sea.

Instantly, Mana’arii felt very attracted to her, but he knew that he could never had her because she was destined for someone else.

One day when Mana’arii was on his way to collect oranges in the valley, he went near the waterfall, and he saw Hinatea swimming with other women.

It was the most idyllic vision he never had in his life.

He stayed hidden to contemplate her beauty.

Three weeks later, Hinatea was by herself returning from the waterfall when she ran into Mana’arii.

He proposed her fresh oranges that she gladly accepted.

Mana’arii was very charming.

He showed her where he used to pick them up.

As a newcomer, she wanted to know more about the surroundings.

He told her that he could show her more but they had to stay very discreet. Nobody should see them.

They learned to know each other during these days.

Mana’arii realised that he had developed strong feelings for her but he knew that he would lead only to more troubles if he expressed them.

Hinatea liked to be around him.

They were walking together when the chief’s son caught them. He was totally enraged.

They tried to lie to him.

He immediately punched Mana’arii because he thought that they disrespected him.

A huge fight ensued.

Fearing for his life, Mana’arii grabbed a rock.

He struck the back of his opponent’s head.

There was so much blood.

Mana’arii thought that he had killed the chief’s son.

He was in the state of total panic.

He decided that he would hide before taking any decision.

He talked with Hinatea to know exactly what to do.

Hinatea made up her mind. She desired to follow Mana’arii because she did not want to be married with a man she did not know, she saw this misfortune as an opportunity.

They stayed hidden in the vegetation for a couple of hours, but finally they decided that it was better to leave and to go to a different island to start a new life.

Mana’arii was sad that it could not say goodbye to anybody but he really thought that it was for the best  

Later in the night, they stole an embarkation.

Mana’arii had a good knowledge of navigation.

He follow the stars to know where to go.

He knew that the birds and fishes gave the direction of the winds.

When they arrived to the nearby island, they lied about their situation.

They stayed for a while there but they were afraid that someone discovered their secret.

They wanted to try their luck on an island ran by a more welcoming clan. Once again they lied but they managed to be accepted because Mana’arii knew how to grow vegetables efficiently.

He was so successful that the chief integrated them rapidly.

People on the island were very happy with them. Mana’arii and Hinatea became an official couple.

What they did not know was that the chief’s son on their island survived.

Later in the year, they saw him arriving with his men. He had been informed by distant relatives who happened to be in the vicinity.

He was very motivated to kill Mana’arii.

Upon seeing her, He grabbed Hinatea to capture her.

When he saw that his wife was in danger, Mana’arii had to protect her.

In a fierce combat, Mana’arii defeated the chef’s son, and he killed him. The tribesmen who welcomed them helped him with the rest of the assailants.

Three year after this incident, Mana’arii and Hinatea became the parents of twins.

When they were old enough, the boys discovered that they loved to swim.

Hinatea always watched them from a distance when the boys were in the water.

When the twins were seven year old, they went to swim like usually, but during a dive, one them, while exploring the coral reef, broke his foot in a cavity because he had a cramp.

His brother tried to rescue him but both them drowned at the end.  

Hinatea realised that something was totally wrong but there was nothing she could do.

The two little bodies washed ashore.

Mana’arii and Hinatea were totally devastated.

It was terrible tragedy.

Hinatea felt very guilty.

She thought that she was cursed because she went against what was predestined for her.

Mana’arii did not know how to help his wife

Even after few months, Hinatea was still inconsolable.

One morning she appeared to be suddenly better.

She looked like she had overcome the death of her children. Mana’arii thought that his wife had finally got over the grieving process.

Life could maybe start to be normal again.

In the afternoon, Hinatea went at the exact same spot where her children died.

She was happy because she had made her decision.  She would join her children in heaven.

She swam where the sea was deep enough.

Hinatea attached a rock to her ankle.

She let herself drown with a smile on her face.

Mana’arii was utterly destroyed by his wife’s death.

In less than six months he had lost all his family.

This time it was too much for him.

He wanted to go back to his birth island. The goal was to try to make contact with his relatives while staying hidden somewhere in the valley. Mana’arii sailed back to his island.

At night, he would go to see his mother and grandmother discreetly.

When they first saw him they were so happy.

He explained what happened to him.

They felt sorry for him.

One week after he arrived, a massive hurricane ravaged the island.

Mana’arii had had a bad feeling about it in the days preceding.

During the torrential rains, he went to see if his family was fine. He arrived just in time to rescue his grandmother who was being carried away by the tide.

Life went full circle. It was his turn to save her.

After having seen what he had done, the elders decided it was time to forgive him.

Mana’arii restarted a new life. He married a nice woman, they had three children together.

He lived a long and happy life after that.

Mana’arii greatest joy was to swim under the waterfall.

[glasyasbutch]

Oh, do you want some angst this week? is that what you want? alright bud let's go!! 1, 3, 7, and 28 for whoever has the Most Interesting Answers!!

Thank you for sending this in!!! Under a read more both bc Prose Boy but also because the first question ended up becoming a short story with some themes of body horror in it so! look out!

1. What’s one experience your character had that made them very afraid?

I rolled amongst the characters I haven’t already discussed in depth later in this ask and got Roona. Lovely.

Being a person with near zero impulse control and a penchant for doing it just because someone said not to, I think at some point while barding alone on the road, she ended up in one of those small towns with a big secret that pop up in the thousands in D&D. 

One of those places where there’s a house on the outskirts of town with the windows all locked up and the front gate rusted shut, but it’s not dilapidated, and if you listen close enough there’s still voices drifting out through the cracks. And if you ask about it in the tavern, the room falls silent and no one’s gaze is meeting yours and after a tense few seconds the bartender slides you a too-full glass and tells you “You best be forgetting about that place, it won’t do you any good.”

And you want to know so badly what happened there and every answer you get is vague until the coin purse comes out, and then the hushed whispers come out too and you start to hear things about how the family that used to live there would collect all kinds of artifacts, and one day they imported something horribly cursed, and it’s probably still inside, it’s got to be, because no one’s ever been seen leaving with it, and anyone who goes to get it back walks away with blood-drained face and shut mouth. 

And so you try to sleep at night but you can’t, because you’re thinking about this fucked up house, and you’ve been to enough roadside tourist traps to know that the value’s in the show, and terror and wonder are almost the same emotion, and you’re pretty sure that this is just some long con publicity stunt that some recluse rich ass family is pulling, because rich people are fucking weird like that. And you’re not gonna call them on it, but you’d like to see for yourself, just to know if your hunch is right. 

So you sneak over there in the dark of night, and you hop the fence and press your eye to the shutters of the living room, and you curse your short legs that you don’t have the best of angles, but you’re still able to make out movement inside the place, and you can see the figures milling about in profile, but it’s hard to make out since the lights are off, which granted, is a little bit weird. 

But you squirm and shimmy and hoist yourself up by the window ledge and you’re still looking through the slats the whole time and you’re trying to see, you can almost get the right angle of your head and the moonlight to make out something of worth in the room, you just need to get a little bit higher and -

And you kick the side of the house and it reverberates much more than it has any right to, though that could just be the adrenaline pumping in your veins, but it really feels like the whole house has shaken, and the figures in the room all freeze in place, which is a bit worrying, but you don’t see them looking at you, which is almost a relief. 

But they are looking at you. The longer you sit and wait for them to go back to their business, the more you realize they’re waiting for you to leave. They can tell you’re here and you’re not supposed to be, so everything comes crashing to a halt, and they’re looking at you, so you know that you’re the disruption. 

But you didn’t realize until now that’s what they were doing, because they don’t have faces. It’s smooth skin, no sign even of eye sockets or cheek bones or nose bridges, just blank skin, like a mannequin come to life, but even with nothing there you can still feel them staring and you want to run away as fast as you can but you’re too scared too move. 

You become scared enough to move again once one of them begins to move towards the window that you’re at, and you hop the fence once more and high tail it back to the inn, hand on the hilt of your sword the whole while. And you slip back into your bed and wish you’d heeded the warnings to stay away, because even though you checked over your shoulder a thousand times to make sure they didn’t follow you, it still feels like the lack of eyes is staring right at you from the dark of every corner in your room. 

And you don’t sleep well again until you’re miles away from that town. 

3. Have they ever lost a loved one? What happened to them, and are they the same as before they lost them? 

These are d&d characters and I’m a tragedy slut so long answer short, yes, approximately half of my characters have key backstory moments revolving around the death/betrayal of a loved one.  Craving, Tov, Stella, Ezra are Supremely Emo, with Gildy and Nissy being lesser versions but still fitting the prompt.

Craving: Her entire life has been a series of deep losses that fundamentally changed the way she grew up. First person she lost was her mother, Kaissa, who died of a mysteriously incurable illness and whose public autopsy was revoked by the city for reasons no one could figure out. It broke her trust in authority, in public figures. The medical sector had refused to treat her mother and then hidden the evidence, it was as good as murder, and she figured every seat of government had as much blood on their hands.

The second to go was her father, Anvan, one of the first victims of a plague that devasted the tiefling population of their city far worse than any other race. He died before a vaccine was developed, but it wouldn’t have mattered any ways, because it was distributed in a horribly biased fashion by the producers which benefitted the human populous first. Not only did this break her trust in money, as a tool for growth and prosperity and caused her to see wealth as possessions as a tool for cruelty (which, you might ask, doesn’t she want wealth? doesn’t she steal impulsively? yes. she does it to be cruel right back at the world.) BUT it also was the moment at which she really lost her youth, because with the death of her father, she had to go into working full time.

The last to go was her brother, Sirris. He was stabbed and burned to death in a hate crime attack on their store. She went into the back room that day as a broken but loving woman, and crawled out of the ashes dragging her brother’s body behind her as a hell-bent, rage-blind servant of eye for an eye retribution. She was going to tear this world down from the inside, and she is still barely starting to learn that there are some things that don’t deserve to be crushed in the wreckage. 

Tov: He went to the Shadowfell to get some sorcery powers and when he walked back out he did a little attempted murder on his brother, who funnily enough Did Not Like It, and cast Tov out of his clan and his life, out of everything he’d ever known. Tov stood on the shores as his brother boarded the boat home alone and the second the ship was out of sight, he became a shell of a man that he’s still trying to fill back in.

Stella: Her entire community got burned to the ground and only a handful of survivors made it out, and she had to go from balance-oriented hippie kid to Literal Fucking Assassin to survive so uh. She got lost in a world where she had to become mean and cold and emotionless in order to stay living, and if she’s being honest, made it a lot easier to deal with the fact that Literally her Entire Life was irreparably gone. 

Ezra: His sister died on a quest for his God, after being promised saving by his God, and failing to be resurrected by clerics of his God. It made him stop believing in God. Like that one’s super duper straightforward.

Gildy: Not nearly as emo, but her spouse passing of old age and leaving her alone in the house made her finally realize that her life is. Hers. And that’s it. And kicked off her quest to do things that actually interest her and get into 3D art and forging and eventually a lifestyle of travel and adventure in the name of her art. She focused on herself for the first time in her life and maybe its just it being 1 am but I am a little bit soft about how that deep deep loss of a spouse was a catalyst for one of the most unabashedly happy times in this woman’s life because she finally didn’t have to care about pleasing anyone but herself! Nissy: He eloped with his girlfriend and then got dumped by her and he realized he kind of sucked shit on his own and decided to go adventuring to prove himself about it. At the time I played him he was fresh out of the breakup so he hadn’t changed much, but I feel like by the time he gets back home he will actually be much more sure of himself as a person who has value and worth and deserves a place at the table as he is, because that’s what being with Mavy had started to teach him, and after she left he was able to internalize it better bc there was no external source to pass it off onto. 

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why? 

Stella would kill Geran, the man who caught her assassinating and promised her a clean wipe of her criminal record in return for a year of SUPREMELY sketch and manipulative personal guard work. She knows she can’t do anything to him because if she fails he turns her in himself, and if she succeeds one of his lackeys does, but he’s also an absolute creep and a sleazeball and she hates his guts and the world would be better off without his freakness in it. Hey actually Rebekah this guy would make a great fourth character for Ludo. 

28. What is your character’s greatest strength?  Is it not the essence of a queer person’s D&D game that every character’s greatest strength boils down to a unfathomably deep love and devotion to whatever persons or tasks they deem worthy?

[litological-blog]

• february book recommendations

Since we went on hiatus during the month of February and didn't get to post it then, we're posting last month's second book rec list now with March's one. This list is for fans of mythology who - like me - are always looking for new stories to read about either Greek, Egyptian, Celtic, or Norse mythology that is simple enough to read and understand.

Also, sorry for the delay in updating this week guys. Tumblr is being tricky with us and my grandfather just passed away so it’s been pretty tough to stick to the schedule, but since I already had this done a while back, I just decided to go ahead and post it today.

1. “Circe” by Madeline Miller

In the house of Helios, god of the sun and mightiest of the Titans, a daughter is born. But Circe is a strange child—not powerful, like her father, nor viciously alluring like her mother. Turning to the world of mortals for companionship, she discovers that she does possess power—the power of witchcraft, which can transform rivals into monsters and menace the gods themselves.

Threatened, Zeus banishes her to a deserted island, where she hones her occult craft, tames wild beasts and crosses paths with many of the most famous figures in all of mythology, including the Minotaur, Daedalus and his doomed son Icarus, the murderous Medea, and, of course, wily Odysseus.

But there is danger, too, for a woman who stands alone, and Circe unwittingly draws the wrath of both men and gods, ultimately finding herself pitted against one of the most terrifying and vengeful of the Olympians. To protect what she loves most, Circe must summon all her strength and choose, once and for all, whether she belongs with the gods she is born from, or the mortals she has come to love.

2. “Norse mythology” by Neil Gaiman

Neil Gaiman, long inspired by ancient mythology in creating the fantastical realms of his fiction, presents a bravura rendition of the Norse gods and their world from their origin though their upheaval in Ragnarok.

In Norse Mythology, Gaiman stays true to the myths in envisioning the major Norse pantheon: Odin, the highest of the high, wise, daring, and cunning; Thor, Odin’s son, incredibly strong yet not the wisest of gods; and Loki—son of a giant—blood brother to Odin and a trickster and unsurpassable manipulator.

Gaiman fashions these primeval stories into a novelistic arc that begins with the genesis of the legendary nine worlds and delves into the exploits of deities, dwarfs, and giants. 

Through Gaiman’s deft and witty prose, these gods emerge with their fiercely competitive natures, their susceptibility to being duped and to duping others, and their tendency to let passion ignite their actions, making these long-ago myths breathe pungent life again.

3. “The Song of Achilles” by Madeline Miller

Greece in the age of heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the court of King Peleus and his perfect son Achilles. By all rights their paths should never cross, but Achilles takes the shamed prince as his friend, and as they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear.

Profoundly moving and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Trojan War is a dazzling feat of the imagination, a devastating love story, and an almighty battle between gods and kings, peace and glory, immortal fame and the human heart.

4. “Mythos: The Greek Myths Retold” by Stephen Fry

The Greek myths are the greatest stories ever told, passed down through millennia and inspiring writers and artists as varied as Shakespeare, Michelangelo, James Joyce and Walt Disney.

They are embedded deeply in the traditions, tales and cultural DNA of the West. In Stephen Fry's hands the stories of the titans and gods become a brilliantly entertaining account of ribaldry and revelry, warfare and worship, debauchery, love affairs and life lessons, slayings and suicides, triumphs and tragedies.

You'll fall in love with Zeus, marvel at the birth of Athena, wince at Cronus and Gaia's revenge on Ouranos, weep with King Midas and hunt with the beautiful and ferocious Artemis.

Thoroughly spellbinding, informative and moving, Stephen Fry's Mythos perfectly captures these stories for the modern age - in all their rich and deeply human relevance.

5. “Egyptian Mythology: A Guide to Gods, Goddess, and Traditions of Ancient Egypt” by Geraldine Pinch

From stories of resurrected mummies and thousand-year-old curses to powerful pharaohs and the coveted treasures of the Great Pyramids, ancient Egypt has had an unfaltering grip on the modern imagination. Now, in Egyptian Mythology, Geraldine Pinch offers a comprehensive introduction that untangles the mystery of Egyptian Myth.

Spanning Ancient Egyptian culture--from 3200 BC to AD 400--Pinch opens a door to this hidden world and casts light on its often misunderstood belief system. She discusses the nature of myths and the history of Egypt, from the predynastic to the postpharaonic period. She explains how Egyptian culture developed around the flooding of the Nile, or the "inundation," a phenomenon on which the whole welfare of the country depended, and how aspects of the inundation were personified as deities. She explains that the usually cloudless skies made for a preoccupation with the stars and planets. Indeed, much early Egyptian mythology may have developed to explain the movement of these celestial bodies. She provides a timeline covering the seven stages in the mythical history of Egypt and outlining the major events of each stage, such as the reign of the sun God.

 A substantial A to Z section covers the principal themes and concepts of Egyptian mythology as well as the most important deities, demons, and other characters. For anyone who wants to know about Anubis, the terrifying canine god who presided over the mummification of bodies and guarded burials, or Hathor, the golden goddess who helped women to give birth and the dead to be reborn, or an explanation of the nun, the primeval ocean from which all life came, Egyptian Mythology is the place to look.

6.  “Celtic Myths and Legends” by Peter Berresford Ellis

This is an enchantingly told collection of the stirring sagas of gods and goddesses, fabulous beasts, strange creatures, and such heroes as Cuchulain, Fingal, and King Arthur from the ancient Celtic world. Included are popular myths and legends from all six Celtic cultures of Western Europe-Irish, Scots, Manx, Welsh, Cornish, and Breton. Here for the modern reader are the rediscovered tales of cattle raids, tribal invasions, druids, duels, and doomed love that have been incorporated into, and sometimes distorted by, European mythology and even Christian figures. 

For example, there is the story of Lugh of the Long Hand, one of the greatest gods in the Celtic pantheon, who was later transformed into the faerie craftsman Lugh-Chromain, and finally demoted to the lowly Leprechaun. Celtic Myths and Legends also retells the story of the classic tragic love story of Tristan and Iseult (probably of Cornish origin-there was a real King Mark and a real Tristan in Cornwall) and the original tale of King Arthur, a Welsh leader who fought against the invading Anglo-Saxons. In the hands of Peter Berresford Ellis, the myths sung by long-dead Celtic bards come alive to enchant the modern reader.

Summaries were all found on https://www.goodreads.com/ if you want to check out that site for any more book recommendations

[hollowedrpg]

CONGRATULATIONS, LINDSEY! — You’ve been accepted for the role of Arthur Weasley. I’m so happy to have an Arthur again so soon. He’s extremely important for some upcoming plots, and you do him such justice. I loved the way you write his relationship with Molly, and I can’t wait to see Arthur on the dash. 

Thank you so much for applying. Please create your account and send in the link, track the right tags, and follow everyone on the follow list. Welcome to Hollowed Souls!

ooc.

name: lindsey

age: 24

preferred pronouns: she/her

timezone: cst

activity: to be honest, i’m not completely sure. i graduated from college (LITERALLY!) yesterday. lol so i can say that i will probably be extremely active as i have a ridiculous amount of time on my hands all of the sudden

how do you feel about your character dying?: i’m fine with it as long as i’m not getting the boot! although i would absolutely love to see molly’s return/discover that she’s actually dead before that point

anything else?: my graduation trip starts tomorrow and i will be gone until the 14th, but emily referred me here and i wanted to apply for arthur before he got snatched up! i can be around on mobile in the evenings until i return, and am happy to. i hope this doesn’t hinder my acceptance at all, but of course i completely understand if it does. if you need to, you can wait to make the decision until the 14th. thank you for understanding either way!

ic details.

full name: Arthur William Weasley

He admired his father from afar, struggling his whole life to feel heard and valued when his tongue always seemed to feel thick and twisted in his mouth. Their relationship was never perfect, but when Arthur had his first son, it seemed natural to pass down the name that was also his.

date of birth: 6 February, 1952

It had been snowing the day Arthur was born. He knew this because in the haste to get his wife to the hospital, William Weasley left their house without shoes on his feet. “Almost lost a toe, I did.” It was a story he grew up hearing, met in later life with eye rolls and sighs of irritation. It wasn’t until he experienced his pregnant wife going into labor in the middle of the night himself that he empathized with the panic he knew all too well.

former hogwarts house: Gryffindor.

Until he met Molly Prewett, Arthur would tell you it never completely made sense to him - why he was sorted into Gryffindor. He couldn’t get words out under the slightest amount of pressure, why would anyone think he could Roar with the Lions? Perhaps it was a sort of Grandfather Clause. He did, in fact, come from an exceedingly long line of Gryffindors. Did the Sorting Hat take pity on him and place him where his parents could finally feel some pride in their only son? Maybe. But then the day came that he tried to voice this fact and the response he got was instant. She came through a crowd like a bolt of lightning (shoving a few innocent bystanders to get to him) and looked up into his face with a look of angered determination. She told him he didn’t have to be loud to be brave. He pointed out the truth that she was quite noisy, herself. To this, Molly Prewett broke out in a grin that (though maybe a tad dramatic) Arthur would swear changed the course of his life indefinitely, and called him funny. And bold. Bold to call her, the argumentative eleven year old than she was, noisy. “See,” she’d said. “A Gryffindor.”

sexuality: straight, but with a jealous admiration for his sex.

gender/pronouns: cisgendered male, he/him

face claim change: no change! Sam Claflin is a lil peach.

more.

how do you interpret this character’s personality? how will you play them? include two weaknesses & two strengths.

Arthur is a quiet man with many thoughts, but few words. His intellect says nothing of his verbiage and though he doesn’t say much, his eyes tell all. There is a slight wonder that had he not been cursed with an abnormal tongue, he might not have had such telling looks. It is just that, however, a mere curiosity for he has no lasting desire to change who he is. Despite his earlier insecurities, he has come to accept himself for all his faults.

The true Gryffindor in Arthur Weasley came to light when he became a father in a world ravaged by war. He wanted to fight for his children, the woman he loves - the family that never questions his worth but sees him as wholly better than he could ever see himself. Everything clicked into place the first time he found himself face-to-face with someone who knew him from their days in school, someone who knew the jibes that would hurt him, and that he had a wife and children back home. He couldn’t place them behind the mask, but they knew his youngest son’s name. “Charlie, was it?” And something in Arthur snapped. He hadn’t realized just how protective he was of the things he considered precious until that moment, but it made perfect sense. What good is a father if he’s not willing to kill or be killed for his loved ones?

Part of the consuming love Arthur has for his family comes from the love he never really had for himself. In his youth, he didn’t care about it. He never focused on self-loathing, but neither did he see any good within himself. That is, as it always is, until Molly came blazing into his life, cementing her position to his left side. When he discovered that she reciprocated his love for her, he admired her all the more. How could she? But she was the smartest person he had ever met, so he wouldn’t dare question it - lest she realize she could do so much better than little old him.

The worry is consuming. He spends his entire day thinking. The gears in his brain churn faster than they ever have, taking his soul and ripping it to pieces. Is Molly still alive? Is she being tortured? Is she at peace, wherever she is? Did she realize how grand her life could be a simply fly the coop that disastrous day? He knows that last one is a bit off the rails, but when his mind is going, Arthur is lost to stop it. Bill might be off safely tucked inside Hogwarts Castle but the rest of his children are with him in Godric’s Hollow. At ten-years-old, Charlie, his most adventurous spawn, gets restless and likes to run off at odd times, causing Arthur’s heart to skip furtive beats. He’s never that far off, usually closely examining stray animals that want nothing to do with him, but Arthur fears one day he’ll be just beyond his reach in the midst of a tragedy (not unlike his mother was). Percy, who is six, is wise beyond his years and stays close to his father as if he can sense the anxiety distance brings. It is young Percy’s help that keeps Arthur from losing his mind over his rambunctious twins, who are barely four and already rebellious. His youngest song, Ron, who has entered the Terrible Twos, clings to Arthur whenever he is awake, making it rather difficult to give his six-month-old (and only daughter) the proper attention she needs. The worry never stops, the change in his daytime routine doing nothing to change that. The only time the young but aging father feels an ounce of serenity is when all the kids are asleep.

how has the war affected this character, emotionally and otherwise?

In her absence, he sees her. Like a ghost, she hovers beside him in his loneliest moments. Molly, the greatest love of his life, reduced to a figment of his imagination. When he longs for her uplifting presence the most, she appears. The first few times, she didn’t say anything. She simply left him stunned, staring at her like he really had seen a ghost. These little visits left him haunted for days. He couldn’t sleep but neither could he bring himself to leave the bed they once shared. His mother stayed with the kids, taking care of them in both their parents’ absences. He thought it meant that she must be dead, but a bigger part of him refused to believe that. This wasn’t her genuine ghost. They had been so connected for years. He knew how she was feeling before he even entered the house after work night after night for years. Surely if she was really and truly dead, he would feel it in his soul. Then he’d managed to ask her what to do aloud, and suddenly she replied. He peered up from the deep pit of sheets their bed had become and took in the insufficient image of his missing wife. “Get up,” she had said, and though it didn’t sound exactly like her, he knew what she wanted. Even as a sad duplicate of the real thing, she wouldn’t let him neglect her children - their children.

where does this character currently stand? with those who wish to hide in godric’s hollow until the war ends, with those who wish to rebuild the order and continue fighting the war, or on neither side? why?

With Molly missing, how is Arthur managing taking care of his children and continuing to be a part of the Order? Does he feel like he should remain a part of the Order?

These questions go hand-in-hand, so I grouped my answer to one longer explanation; I hope that’s okay!

Arthur gathered up his children, said goodbye to his quickly aging parents, and moved to Godric’s Hollow. Lupin had a point. They’d be hiding in plain sight because no one in their right mind would expect them to go where so much darkness remained. Dumbledore promised there would be Hogwarts-level protection on the village to ward off any more disaster. It felt like the smartest thing to do. The draw to continue fighting is there, but he has to think of his kids first. Their safety comes far before his own and the more his soul tells him to fight, the more he considers doing the hardest thing and sending them somewhere far away where they wouldn’t have to be a part of any of it. Time isn’t healing her absence, it is making it harder for Arthur to keep himself together. If he fights, will he finally find her? Will he uncover the truth, that maybe (God willing) she’s alive somewhere? And if she is, what torture could she possibly be enduring? Perhaps it’s better to hope that she’s dead, but the selfish side of Arthur knows what a fighter his wife is - and how lost he might be without her permanently. He remains a part of the Order in the hopes that he will be the first to hear of her whereabouts, determined not to give up just yet. He stays so that the concern and the kids don’t consume him completely. It’s not out of duty anymore. It has nothing to do with wanting a better life for his children. He needs to be the first to know when they finally reveal his biggest fear - that Molly Weasley is dead.

extra.

An extension of the Worry weakness;

Arthur tucks Percy into his sheets and lays a kiss to his sons head, says goodnight to Charlie who doodles in a journal in his adjourning bed across the room. As he leaves the room, he shuts off the light and pulls the door until it is almost closed. Through the crack in the door, he can see the dim yellow light of Charlie’s flashlight. He smiles because he can see his son in his minds’ eye, light tucked beneath his chin, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on drawing whatever strange animal he’s dreamed of the night before. In the next room, Arthur has to tell Fred and George to lay down and go to sleep, as he catches them playing in the dark. Fred leans over the top bunk, his small head upside down as he tries to grab the stuffed animal his brother, who is still laying on his back on the bottom bunk, has in his outstretched arm. Ron, in the lowered crib on the other side of the room, stirs restlessly. Arthur tucks the twins in tight, thinking he might invest in restraints - a joke that would’ve made Molly laugh boisterously, had she been there to hear it. He crosses the room to Ron and pulls the blanket up over his shoulders, tucking his stuffed rabbit into his small arms. His hand lingers on the warmth of his sons forehead - does he have a fever? If he does, they all will by in the morning and then Arthur will be dealing with six sick children for the next week. If Molly were there, they’d take it in stages, letting the other rest in the interim. It’s nearly impossible to deal with that many sick kids at one time, each needing something at different times through the day and night until they are back to normal. Arthur heaves a sigh and wanders out of the room, hoping the warmth came from a deep sleep and not an impending epidemic. He goes into his own bedroom at the end of the hall where a crib is pushed against the end of his bed - they couldn’t afford a four bedroom house, especially not with Arthur working half the time he used to.

He plops down on the corner of the bed, sleep pulling at his brain, begging his eyelids to close and he hears it. From inside the crib comes the slightest gurgling noise. He peels his eyes open and leans sideways to look over the bars. His small daughter is awake inside her bed, quite content with chewing on her wet fist. Her small feet kick at the air, her eyes blinking up at the mobile above her. It has little twinkling stars with reflective mirrors and colorful ribbons hanging from it. Arthur feels his throat tighten at the sight of her. The slight hair on her head curls like her mothers, her big, almond-shaped eyes are Molly’s precise color. She’s beautiful. Arthur heaves a deep, exhausted sigh and lays back on his bed, legs bent at the knees with his feet still on the floor. For the briefest of moments, he hadn’t been worried. He said goodnight to all of his children and reveled in the quiet. But the thought of Molly brings on a whole new wash of agony and he closes his eyes, pressing the heels of his hands into them. He would fall asleep just like that, sleeping deeply until the twins awoke him in the early hours of the morning already full of energy and ready to take on the day. But for a moment before sleep and a minute after waking up, he’d stop worry and simply lived.

[ncumenia-archived]

📱MOBILE-FRIENDLY LORE📱

OTHER LINKS: rules bio headcanons

ERNYE THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOON

[League Of Legends Lunari OC ]

[Pssst! Are you looking for ODYSSEY!Ernye’s lore? Go there!]

«Foolish call it carnage, but I call it justice for my people.»

~ Ernye  

Killed with her family and most beloved friends by Ra Horak, Ernye is a revenant Lunari whose sole purpose is to exterminate the Solari, guilty of persecuting her people. Her extremist manners fed by grudge makes her a dangerous opponent, who considers herself as the silent and dark side of the Moon. Through her shadow and moon-based powers, she’s hellbent to eradicate Solari from Targon.

Born during a cold Targonian night, Ernye was a simple Lunari, daughter of minister Maelor and master weaver Selaenna. Educated in Lunari culture since she was a kid, she knew right away the deep disdain that Solari people felt towards her clan experiencing strong discrimination that’ll push all her community to hide in the most remote places around Mount Targon.

Despite the problems given by them, Ernye grew up in a loving environment surrounded by the ones she loved the most, in particular, she’ll form a strong and emotional bond with her mother, that’ll teach her, with the father, the art of painting and writing.

Becoming a young adult she found her calling as a Moon priestess, proving to be one of the most promising apprentices, and most of her time she lived at the sacred Lunari temple.

As the years went by, at 24, her father started looking for a husband for her, Ernye’s life was totally devoted to knowledge and bringing honor to her family, putting aside the opportunity to get to know more about herself, studying and practicing at the temple until exhaustion. Time passed and one of the most important Lunari festivals had arrived: the full Moon celebration. But, the night prior to the event, her spirit full of joy got jeopardized by a bad-omen bringer dream: a lunar eclipse. 

Scared by its meaning, when the morning came, she found no one to tell about the dreadful nightmare she had, not until she considered to talk to the Lunari High Prophet, Jaelor. Ernye, in his presence, questioned him about the dream for she was unsure about its meaning, and mayhaps it was only a mere coincidence.

Ernye was dead wrong: Jaelor, in the grip of madness, attacked her and, laughing like a madman, yelled those exact words:

«YOU’LL BE A DAWNLESS NIGHT, MY SWEET CHILD!»

And, then, he took a small ampoule containing the poisonous moonflower’s extract, often used by Lunari to commit suicide and preventing to get killed and their soul sealed by Solari, to prevent them to reach the spirit realm, and then he drank it in front of her. Frightened by such prediction and view, the girl ran off, scared that if she confessed the truth both she and her family would run in some serious danger, therefore, although she was deeply shocked, she managed to stay silent, unaware that such a choice would have led to an unrecoverable tragedy.

By evening, Ernye temporarily forgot all her problems and one of the priestess, that night, offered to predict her future through the stars, as her father wanted to know about the man she was going to marry. But she would never know the verdict because that night was going to be a bloodbath: ambushed by some Ra Horak troops, the soldiers proposed them an ultimatum: leave that night the Targon or perish.

The answer was blood: while Lunari soldiers desperately tried to push away the Solari, Ernye and another Lunari group - including some of her friends and their families- ran for safety through general panic, but everything will be worthless: not only she will see all her loved ones dying in front of her eyes, but also she will be fatally stabbed in the sternum by a Ra Horak spear, followed by her lifeless body falling backward, hitting the cold stone of the temple.

Seriously injured, but not dead, her mother witnessed in horror her beloved daughter’s death and, refusing to let soul sealed by Solari’s weapon through the use of Lunari’s dark arts related with the Spiritual Realm she has learned in order to find a cure to her limping and the side effects caused by the pain killer drugs she had been consuming, as soon as the Ra Horak left the room to hunt other Lunari, with all her strength she managed to carry Ernye with her, taking her to one of the sacred moon altars nearby. Although her conditions were worsening and her own life was the price to pay in order to correctly perform the ritual, a genuine mother’s love was stronger than a mere deadly requirement.

As Selaenna gently leaned Ernye on the thin layer of water which were slowly turned red, the woman began to perform the ritual, slowly feeling her own life being drained away, her eyes witnessed in hope and joy her daughter’s injuries slowly being restored, and the seal weakening.

Until rough footsteps echoed in the air, the Ra Horak had found them.

As soon as they set foot on the stairs, Selaenna involuntarily interrupted the ritual, witnessing in horror the water turning black and Ernye sinking in, unknown what would have happened to her afterward…

Before the woman got fatally stabbed by one of their spears, her last thoughts went out to her sole, beloved daughter and her safety.

When Ernye reopened her eyes, she found herself in a dark, eerie place which she’ll soon discover it’s populated with monstrous creatures created by the deepest and most disturbing nightmares one could ever imagine. Soon, she found out, in order to not become like them, she had to survive thanks to the Lunari magic infused in her body. As time passed, during one of her expeditions to find a way out, Ernye ran into a little owl, who will soon become her only companion, and naming her Noctua.

But, that wasn’t the sole encounter the Lunari will have, something more powerful was actually waiting for her, a power which was feared by those who worshipped the light…

The shadows.

Although corrupted by that cursed place, they fully and quickly understood Ernye’s story, who she’ll become their beloved one, to guide and protect her at all costs. 

However, the more she stayed in that place, the more her body began to change: from her silver hair turning into a pitch-black hue to her skin desaturating, resembling the moonlight. It was crystal clear she had to get away as soon as possible, otherwise, she would have turned into those monstrosities that inhabited that place.

And, thanks to her lunar and shadows powers, she managed to find a way out.

And, she woke up in a dried pool, a ruined place which she quickly recognized as the sacred temple. Overwhelmed by despair, Ernye managed to look for her parents, her friends, her people…

Only to realized everyone was dead. And, such saturnine revelation made her scream and cry in agony, swearing her revenge and eternal hate toward Solari.

With only Noctua as her silent companion and thinking she was the sole Lunari who, although wasn’t fully alive, was the only survivor, she managed to live in those lonely caves, slowly figuring out all the side effects of her “new life”, from being totally barren to discover how much painful was staying under the sunlight and touching gold. It was clear she was forced to come out only during the night.

Over the years, she did her best to save what was left of her kin, recollecting all the stolen artifacts, transcribing all the manuscripts she managed to find…

To kill all those who dared to deconsecrate the place she lived in. And there, she discovered the horrific feeling of taking someone’s life, just like Solari did with her kin. Although the sorrow she felt by killing each person she met who dared to harm her, she had no other options.

But, one day, things changed: during one of her nocturnal expeditions, she ran into a group of children -and she quickly recognized her kin’s clothes-, who got captured by a group of Rakkors and about to get killed by them. She would have never let some filthy scums to harm children because of religions purposes. That’s why she managed to grab them with her shadow’s powers and dragging them into the blackest darkness…

Only to silence them forever. She refused to let those innocent children see a man dying.

Before the children ran away, she appeared in front of them in tears, for she wished to not harm them, but only to protect them. Luckily, they recognized not only the sacred pieces of jewelry she was wearing but also her holy aura related to their people. Therefore, they took her to their hidden village, and mere words were not able to describe the Targonian woman’s joy as she found out the Lunari were still alive, and so some descendants of the people who lived in her old village.

From that day, Ernye devoted herself to protect that village from any intruders who wished to harm them, helping the elders with all their pupils and realizing one of the greatest dreams: opening and taking care of a small farm, helped by her people when she had to travel around Runeterra to gather more information about Lunari who survived during the tragedy.

Now, she wasn’t alone.

Not anymore.

[After reading my lore, I suggest you check Ernye’s identikit, so you’ll know more about her before rping with me!]

[mana2348]

Why Final Fantasy 15 lacks in quality compared to Final Fantasy 13. (I mean plot, not game play)

As much as I fucking love FF 15, and it’s game play, and it’s characters. The game is just a fucking tar pit. It’s suppose to tragedy, but as a Final fantasy title it was heart breaking. (the second one, the top being Crisis Core) 

Yell at me, go ahead, but it just supports my love for the Final Fantasy 13 series. 

You know why? 

(I’m just going to put a spoiler warning here for plot, just in case) 

Because Final Fantasy 13 had hope. It fucking gave it’s characters hope even though the entire world was against them, while they were even against each other. We see their struggles, we see them grow as people, we see them care for each other even though they know that no matter what happens they’ll stay together, because of how much they rely on each other  because they need each other. 

And what made it real was that we heard them, we heard their fears, we saw how becoming l’cie changed them, heck, it made Lightning basically unlikeable because we saw her jealousy, we saw her anger with Snow, we saw her distrust with the only family she had, and then we see how she was torn apart when Serah turned to crystal. She mourned the only way she knew how, she even was about to abandon Hope at one point because she believed that he was going to get her killed (writing that I there’s an actual metaphor there). But she saved him, and as they got closer she saw herself in him. She saw where her anger would take her, and she began to forgive the man she blamed for essentially killing her sister. In future titles she becomes a guardian protecting the Goddess Etro, she becomes Serah’s hope that the future will be saved. And even when we see her fail, we also see her struggling to save the world, helping her friends through their despair in Lightning Returns, even deciding to sacrifice her humanity in order to save everyone. She becomes the Savior to become their hope, and ultimately, she grows because after everything that’s happened. She  calls out for help when she needs it, when she realizes she doesn’t want to be alone anymore, not wanting to bear the burden anymore. And she gets what she wants, everyone she loves is reborn, and it’s hinted that she will be reuniting with them in a world where they no longer have to suffer. 

We saw Snow playing the persona of a Hero, watch him suffer as her saw the woman her love “die”, we see every mistake he makes and see him owning up to it. Even if he was indirectly responsible, he still makes that effort to make amends. Even saving the kid that was trying to kill him, just because his mother asked him to. But it’s because he shoulders responsibility that leads to his despair in the final game. He knows what will happen since he didn’t complete his focus, he accepts that he couldn’t protect anyone he loved from the Chaos. But even in his despair he still helps people, he locks himself away when he starts turning to a cei’th, and even his people ask Lightning to save him, as he once did for all of them. And ultimately, he does gain his hope back, he pushes on just to see Serah again.  

We see Sazh’s son stolen from him, him pushing through to make the effort to see his son again. He’s seen as the father figure of the group, listening to the others and imparting wisdom on them when they are shown to be struggling. Then he watches as Dajh, his son, “dies” infront of his eyes, then be confronted with the information that the woman he had grown a friendship with, Vanille, was directly responsible for turning Dajh into a L’cie. We see him torment himself with the option of taking her life, but then making a choice to take his own. Even though he fails, Vanille is there to give him hope. She helps him push through, until he finds hope that Dajh will wake up again. And he does, but then we see him at his lowest as Dajh is sent into a slumber for over 500 years. That’s 500 years of his man watching over his son, still hoping for him to awaken even though it’s already been so long. He gets his good end when Dajh does wake up, and we see that they’re together again as a family. 

We see Vanille and Fang go through their struggles as veterans of the war that cracked cocoon’s shell. They lash out to continue their mission hundreds of years after everyone they’ve known has already died. We see Vanille go through the struggle of guilt as she comes across people who’s lives she’s ruined, and of watching her closest friend take the burden of becoming the monster to destroy the world. Even Fang at one point deciding to kill Vanille because the alternative is unbearable for her. But they push through because they now have this new family to protect. Even when the rest of the party turns into cie’th Fang always protects Vanille, then when the end comes she and Vanille make the choice to right their wrongs and save the world that they were once sent to destroy. In the future games, they both give Serah a chance to escape a dream-like prison, and even are shown to provide Hope with the will to build the new world that saves millions of lives. And both of them are still seen taking responsibility for the lives of others even after the world falls into chaos.  

We see Hope, a little kid, watch his mother die, the only person he considers family. Without her, he’s lost, he clings to other people for support to protect him because he’s scared, terrified when he turns into a L’cie and then is faced with the man he believes killed her. He makes every attempt to get stronger, even believing that if he kills Snow then he’ll get stronger. Then he forgives Snow, because he knew that he needed someone to blame for everything wrong. We see him resolve to motivate everyone so that they wouldn’t give up and see him as an adult in future games creating a new world so the people of Cocoon wouldn’t die. Heck, he even becomes a vassal of the God Bhunivelza because the actual God of the world saw how Hope became a symbol for the survivors of Chaos. Becoming Lightnings’ support when she begins to doubt herself, and as we see him die he provides her with the same words that gave him comfort hundreds of years ago. Even after he’s given a choice to move on he comes back for Lightning, he comes back ensure she’s isn’t burdened with the weight of the world. 

 Even when FF 13-2 came out and all of their futures were stolen from them, we had Serah giving us, the players, hope for a happy ending. Even though every paradox ending, every bad end through that game she was there being a beacon of light for a good future. Noel represented the terrible future to come, and even though he knew he was the last human alive, being abandoned by everyone he cared about he made the choice to try to save the future. 

This is honestly once of my favorite games, because of the characters. And I strongly believe it gave us one of the greatest villains every written. Yes, even better than Sephiroth, fight me. 

Caius, mother-fucking- Ballard - An immortal man who was cursed to watch the little girl he cared about died over and over again for thousands of years. At the start of FF 13-2 we see him mourn. We see his sadness as he takes on a literal Goddess to try to save Yuel’s life. He’s a sympathetic character, but he knows his role, he knows the consequences, and ultimately. He succeeds.  Time has stopped, the world essentially ended, and he ends up watching over all the Yuels that had ever been. He’s the villain, and... he wins. And in some way, it’s a satisfying end for him. 

--------- 

Compare that with Final Fantasy 15...and it’s just overpoweringly sad how the story is, too much. There’s no hope. No way to fight back against the cards that have been dealt, and it kind of takes away from the experience as the result. 

First thing, Noctis *sigh*, just...Noctis in general. He shines as a good character when he’s working off of somebody, before Altissia. Even though he’s a prince, and is burdened with responsibility, he was apparently given as normal life as he could have. And in retrospect that was probably the problem. He doesn’t act like a prince, nor a king, he’s just a kid (even though he’s 20) thrust upon to a situation that would would kill just about anyone. (...) But he gains nothing as the story moves forward, he loses everything and everyone he loves, and is just expected to take that. Even in the final moments of his life he’s alone, his friends aren’t even by his side as he dies. Nyx didn’t die so you couldn’t live for another few months Noct And sure he’s seen at piece with Luna at the end of the game, but there is no reassurance. There is no closure that everything turned out okay, for all we know Gladious, Ignis, and Prompto could’ve died at the end and we would’ve never known. I assume he’s suppose to represent hope in the game, because he is the one that everyone puts their lives on the line for, and in Kingsglaive that point basically hammered in. But here’s the thing, the world may be free of demons, the sun may have come back, and Noct and Luna are reunited in death, but it’s an unsatisfying end because it is the end. Ardyn won. The Villain won, because the rein of the Lucius Caelm line is gone, the bloodline of the Oracles is gone, and he achieved death after living for hundreds of years. 

Lunafreya herself shines on her own very well. But her character feels like she is given injustice whenever she is with Noctis because she does not feel like she’s worth being by his side. Overall it was disappointing how self degrading she felt because she literally loved him more than herself. She is represented at her best when she was confidence in herself and her own abilities, which is without Noctis’s influence. Seriously, she came off as suicidal during her parts of the game, fully willing to sacrifice herself for the greater good, but in a way that felt hopeless. Luna represents Noctis’s future, and when she died, that future was taken away. At one point I was agreeing with Ravus that Noctis’s life wasn’t worth hers. After she died, it just felt like it was pointless to continue on. I’m no fan of the “Heroine dies so the protagonist can be made stronger” trope, but if you’re putting it in the story, you have to show the protagonist growing stronger through the pain. Noctis doesn’t, and it is directly after her death that he beings his downward decent into despair. 

That is the point of the game where things just go downward and it feels like the shortest part of the game because of how fast it runs. First of all, it cements that while Galdios takes pride in his position, it feels like he and Noctis become disjointed and the only reason he’s with him is because it’s his job, not because they’re friends. He clearly blames Noctis for everything that’s happened and comes off as a real asshole because of it. And that’s not really resolved through the rest of the game. 

 Ignis was already an okay character from the start and while his injury was a direct result of Izuna being a major asshole it didn’t really feel like he became anything more than Noctis’s adviser, which is a shame because he is shown to be very capable man. 

And Prompto was...there? The kid was shown to trying bring a semblance of normalcy to the group after Luna’s death, and making it a point of there being a scene where he felt out of place during the start of the game because he brought little to the group due to his status as a plebeian. There was even DLC and an entire chunk of the game to his back story. But they just gloss over it. Just 2 lines in regard to Prompto’s entire existence and everything is apparently fine? 

Speaking from a plot perspective it would’ve probably been a better choice to kill him off rather than Luna; As both Prompto and Luna are 2 aspects of Noctis’s life that stand out. Both provided companionship to him during his childhood, but while Luna is suppose to represent Noctis’s future (his continued lineage for both of their lines) Prompto remains as a standstill of his past life (Happy(ish), full of childhood innocence, and playing Kings knight along with Noctis through the journey) He is a constant reminder that Noctis had a normal life, and when he is kidnapped the game play feels off because he represents support as he provides cover from a distance. His death would’ve been symbolic as Noctis could no longer be a child, a prince, and would have to step up to become king. He would’ve had to accept his future  as a king, not reminiscing about the life he once had. But hey, lost opportunities. All I’m saying is Square built him up with no pay off, literally, they did nothing with him, 

As for Ardyn Izuna...he won. That’s pretty much all there is to it. He destroyed Noctis emotionally, Killed both the Nox Fleuret and Lucuis Caelum lines, Blinded Ignis, tortured Prompto, indirectly killed Gladio’s and Iris’s father, toppled multiple empires, and killed a lot of people. He got what he wanted and won before he died, so...yay for him? 

Overall the game’s just depressing, that’s all there is to it. 

[kaleighsdominicanrepubliclitblog]

Ten Interesting Dominican Republic Novels

1. Drown By: Junot Diaz 

“With ten stories that move from the barrios of the Dominican Republic to the struggling urban communities of New Jersey, Junot Diaz makes his remarkable debut. Diaz's work is unflinching and strong, and these stories crackle with an electric sense of discovery. Diaz evokes a world in which fathers are gone, mothers fight with grim determination for their families and themselves, and the next generation inherits the casual cruelty, devastating ambivalence, and knowing humor of lives circumscribed by poverty and uncertainty. In Drown, Diaz has harnessed the rhythms of anger and release, frustration and joy, to indelible effect. (less)” ( goodreads.com)

2. This is how you lose her By: Junot Diaz

“On a beach in the Dominican Republic, a doomed relationship flounders. In the heat of a hospital laundry room in New Jersey, a woman does her lover’s washing and thinks about his wife. In Boston, a man buys his love child, his only son, a first baseball bat and glove. At the heart of these stories is the irrepressible, irresistible Yunior, a young hardhead whose longing for love is equaled only by his recklessness—and by the extraordinary women he loves and loses: artistic Alma; the aging Miss Lora; Magdalena, who thinks all Dominican men are cheaters; and the love of his life, whose heartbreak ultimately becomes his own.”( goodreads.com)

3. The brief wondrous life of Oscar Wao By: Junet Diaz

“Things have never been easy for Oscar, a sweet but disastrously overweight, lovesick Dominican ghetto nerd. From his home in New Jersey, where he lives with his old-world mother and rebellious sister, Oscar dreams of becoming the Dominican J. R. R. Tolkien and, most of all, of finding love. But he may never get what he wants, thanks to the Fukœ—the curse that has haunted the Oscar's family for generations, dooming them to prison, torture, tragic accidents, and, above all, ill-starred love. Oscar, still waiting for his first kiss, is just its most recent victim.” (goodreads.com)

4.How the Garcia Girls lost their accents By: Julia Alvarez

“Uprooted from their family home in the Dominican Republic, the four Garcia sisters - Carla, Sandra, Yolanda, and Sofia - arrive in New York City in 1960 to find a life far different from the genteel existence of maids, manicures, and extended family they left behind. What they have lost - and what they find - is revealed in the fifteen interconnected stories that make up this exquisite novel from one of the premier novelists of our time. (less)” (goodreads.com)

5. In the time of the butterflies By: Julia Alvarez 

“Set during the waning days of the Trujillo dictatorship in the Dominican Republic in 1960, this extraordinary novel tells the story of the Mirabal sisters, three young wives and mothers who are assassinated after visiting their jailed husbands.”( goodreads.com)

6.Let it rain coffee By: Angie Cruz 

“Esperanza risked her life fleeing the Dominican Republic for the glittering dream she saw on television, but years later she is still stuck in a cramped tenement with her husband, Santo, and their two children, Bobby and Dallas. She works as a home aide and, at night, hides unopened bills from the credit card company where Santo won't find them when he returns from driving his livery cab.” (goodreads.com)

7. Soledad By: Angie Cruz

“At eighteen, Soledad couldn't get away fast enough from her contentious family with their endless tragedies and petty fights. Two years later, she's an art student at Cooper Union with a gallery job and a hip East Village walk-up. But when Tía Gorda calls with the news that Soledad's mother has lapsed into an emotional coma, she insists that Soledad's return is the only cure. Fighting the memories of open hydrants, leering men, and slick-skinned teen girls with raunchy mouths and snapping gum, Soledad moves home to West 164th Street. As she tries to tame her cousin Flaca's raucous behavior and to resist falling for Richie -- a soulful, intense man from the neighborhood -- she also faces the greatest challenge of her life: confronting the ghosts from her mother's past and salvaging their damaged relationship.” (goodreads.com)

8. With the fire on high By: Elizabeth Acevedo

“With her daughter to care for and her abuela to help support, high school senior Emoni Santiago has to make the tough decisions, and do what must be done. The one place she can let her responsibilities go is in the kitchen, where she adds a little something magical to everything she cooks, turning her food into straight-up goodness. Still, she knows she doesn’t have enough time for her school’s new culinary arts class, doesn’t have the money for the class’s trip to Spain — and shouldn’t still be dreaming of someday working in a real kitchen. But even with all the rules she has for her life — and all the rules everyone expects her to play by — once Emoni starts cooking, her only real choice is to let her talent break free. (less)”(goodreads.com)

9. Clap when you land By: Elizabeth Acevedo

“Camino Rios lives for the summers when her father visits her in the Dominican Republic. But this time, on the day when his plane is supposed to land, Camino arrives at the airport to see crowds of crying people…” (goodreads.com)

10.  Afterlife By; Julia Alvarez 

“ Antonia Vega, the immigrant writer at the center of Afterlife, has had the rug pulled out from under her. She has just retired from the college where she taught English when her beloved husband, Sam, suddenly dies. And then more jolts: her bighearted but unstable sister disappears, and Antonia returns home one evening to find a pregnant, undocumented teenager on her doorstep. Antonia has always sought direction in the literature she loves—lines from her favorite authors play in her head like a soundtrack—but now she finds that the world demands more of her than words.”(goodread.com)

[eyesaremosaics]

What are your experiences with Geminis? I love the astrological posts you've been doing. You write so vividly, so viscerally, that I can actually feel the experiences you convey - have you ever considered writing as a pursuit in itself?

Thank you so much sweetling, I have considered it, once as a young girl. However…I don’t know if my writing is good enough to get published. Bit insecure about my abilities, one of my flaws is lack of confidence. I have difficulty completing extraordinary tasks (such as writing a novel). It’s a huge undertaking and responsibility in my eyes.

However, I have always felt that I needed to write a book. That I need to leave something behind for others. I still feel that way, and I will. There is a novel I have been slowly working on for years, but I am very secretive about it. There is a superstition amongst writers, about sharing their work before it is fully formed. Rather like a jinx.

Oh Gemini…. As aforementioned in a previous ask, I have slightly dreaded answering the question about Gemini, because many of my personal experiences with them have been less than positive. Yet so many artists that I love and respect are Gemini, so I have very mixed feelings about them.

I will say this: they are sharp, witty, childlike and hilarious. Often they would do well as a stand up comedian/comedienne. They generally are very gifted in the artistic sense, musically (Morrissey is a prime example, even though I want to punch him in the face), in terms of painting, sculpture, mixed media, dance, and most especially–acting.

Because Gemini have a dual aspect to their nature, they are rather like dr. Jekyl and mr. Hyde. When they are good–they are great. Bubbly, effervescent like champagne, with quick witticisms and random tidbits of information you may not have been privy to before. They are the life of the party, confetti, streamers, excited explosions onto the scene. They will make you come alive with their unique and creative sense of humor. However, when they are bad, they can be wishy washy, non-committal, pathological liars who are out to save their own hide.

It truly depends on what else is in their chart. For example, my aunt Joan was born in the 1930’s, and she is the toughest old broad you will ever meet. However. She is born on the first day of Gemini, so she carries with her a lot of Taurus, which grounds her significantly, and makes her very reliable and dependable with a sassy flair and biting wit.

Another Gemini friend of mine has a lot of Scorpio in her chart, which makes her very deep and penetrating–an excellent writer with a lot of depth and dimension and an ability to truly empathize with whatever you are going through. She usually has a unique perspective on a problem as well, gives great advice and insight. She is very observant, with a heavy aspect to her personality tempered with humor.

Another Gemini friend of mine had a lot of cancer, which makes him rather sensitive, touchy and moody at times. Though he is an excellent dancer, we called him “twinkle toes”. He has great taste in art and music–as most gemini’s tend to have.

In fact they rival libra in terms of being “art snobs” or “hipsters” at times. They can be a little judgmental about others who have what they consider to be “poorer” taste. They are the best party friends you could ever have, always on the incline with their tonality, they have a refreshing and eternally youthful quality about them. Even with heavy earth in their chart (Like Johnny Depp for example who has a Capricorn moon), they will have a playful, silly side to them which they compartmentalize.

Johnny Depp is someone I like to use to explore what I love about Gemini. He is truly a character actor, and very underrated in my opinion. He completely transforms into whatever character he plays to the point where you hardly recognize him. Look at him in blow, compared to fear and loathing, compared to Edward Scissorhands, compared to Charlie in the chocolate factory, compared to Pirates–all completely different. His voice, his walk, his mannerisms are so unique to the character. He’s a natural. As is Angelina Jolie, Helena Bonham Carter etc.

Another Gemini I love to death is Judy Garland. I feel for this woman so much. She was forced into the vaudeville circuit by her domineering stage mother at 2 years old, with little regard to her wishes or personal safety/mental sanity. Judy had this gift from the gods, this powerful voice that stands out even to this day. She was unique in her talent, and in my opinion–one of the greatest performers of all time.

Her life was a great tragedy, because so many people told her she was too short, too fat, too ugly. This took a toll on her self esteem as a growing girl. Her self concept became wrapped in other people’s opinions about her, and she NEEDED their validation to have self worth. Judy fell in love with Vincent Minnelli (Liza’s father) and she was told not to be with him, because he was an adulterer and a rumored homosexual. She said very seriously: “all I know is he is kind, and intelligent… And he adores me. And I NEED to be adored.”

Gemini is very dependent on the opinions of others because their own self concept is always changing. As a mutable sign they are very adaptable, but they constantly lose their sense of personal identity. This can cause a serious crisis for them. However, they won’t let this on usually. They like to appear sprightly, cheerful and driven.

This is why they make great actors, because they can so easily become someone else. Meryl Streep is the most famous and successful example of this. She has won more awards than any man (or woman) in history.

In Judy’s case, it was heartbreaking. The studio system starved her, and got her addicted to amphetamines to keep her figure thin and appealing for the camera. If you watch her in later films, you can see the hollows in her cheeks. This matched with gemini’s propensity to over analyze, led to drug induced psychosis in Judy. She had to be hospitalized many times for panic attacks, drug overdoses, and suicide attempts.

Judy never stopped fighting though, she was up and down on a daily basis, damn near impossible to work with, but she clawed her way out of her own grave many a time to prove everyone wrong. That is what I find so inspiring about her. She never could quite get over the rainbow, but it wasn't for lack of trying.

In the darker aspect: Gemini are (in my experience) self deceptive. The reason the exaggerate or stretch the truth as often as they do, comes out of their innate insecurity about their abilities/accomplishments, but also because they convince themselves of their own lies. They truly believe them. So, in that way, they are innocent not malicious about it. They have a way with words and cal talk themselves out of almost anything.

If they have have water influence in their chart (as many of the Gemini friends I have do) there will be an added depth and complexity to their character. They will have a greater capacity for empathy. Gemini is known as the pre school age child, if you were to look at each sign as an age bracket. They are eager to be a part of things, curious about the world around them, always questioning reality, always absorbing information. Although… In my experience they know a little about a lot of things, so they can carry on conversation in a broad spectrum, very few things interest them enough for them to specialize in, the way say a Virgo does.

They are curious about everyone and everything, but they are often restless. They become easily bored or overwhelmed–sometimes simultaneously. Depending on what they have in their chart to support them, they CAN be there for you. However, a typical “true” Gemini is gone when the party is over. They are on to find the next adventure.

My bitterness toward them comes from a Gemini friend that was very important to me. He left me in a situation where I was at risk, and as a result I was molested by an older man. We went to a party together, where I was drugged by this predator, and the Gemini just left me like that at a strangers house. When I confronted him about what had happened in his absence, he got very impatient and evasive and said: “well it’s in the past now. Let’s just forget it.”

Dismissing my trauma because he couldn’t shoulder the responsibility, made me lose respect for him, and our friendship dissolved very quickly following this incident. I realized I could not count on him, and if it came down to the wire, he would throw me under the bus. Now granted, I know not all Gemini are this way, but this situation deeply affected me.

I dated a Frenchman when I was 18–also a Gemini–absolutely gorgeous man. He looked like Stuart Townsend as Lestat in queen of the damned. He was very romantic, very suave with his words, big romantic gestures… Roses, chocolates, picking me up in a sports car. Yet he only saw me as a conquest. After he “had” me he discarded me abruptly, and with little regard for my feelings at all.

Many exes of men I have loved were Gemini. These women were often conniving, vengeful, many of them trying to break up my relationships. Crusading to put me in the ground because they were jealous and insecure. Spreading lies about me, trying to taint other people’s perception of my character. One of them even put a curse on me–no joke.

There was a Gemini girl who I became friends with, I admired her so much. She was a clothing designer, had her own antique shop, was a ballet dancer, a painter, and she went to an environmentalist high school where they planted trees and learned about conservation. I looked up to her–even though we were the same age. We got along famously, and became very close. One day she abruptly stopped talking to me. I asked her tearfully why and she very coldly said: “because. You treat me like you are older than me, or better than me. I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

I was totally crushed, I had adored her. My maternal instincts come out when someone is hurting, and her insecurities prompted her to perceive this quality of mine as “looking down on her”, which was not true.

I had a manager at Starbucks who was Taurus/Gemini, she hated me for some reason. Once I was sick with a fever, throwing up. She told me if I didn’t come in she would fire me. I came in to prove to her how sick I was, and she told me I was just hungover (which I wasn’t, I didn’t drink back then. I was a stoner). She forced me to scrub the grout lines in the tile while I was simultaneously vomiting in the toilet, and sadistically watched me do it while she sat at her desk doing nothing.

So you can see my aversion to them. In my experience they were unreliable, wishy washy, and self absorbed. Yet I have also been very close with many Gemini’s who I love dearly so it’s confusing. My godson is a Gemini–true blue Gemini. He’s hilarious! He has such sweet, vibrant energy, always coming up with hilarious phrases and opinions about things. Super active and excited.

Every morning he comes into Jeanne’s room smiling, wearing an apron with a serving tray on his hand saying: “hey guys! It’s me! River Thompson!” He tells everyone that I am a dancing vampire. Introduced me to the guy at chuckie cheese by saying: “this is my friend Megan, she’s a vampire from San Francisco.”

One time, he ate all the candy his grandma left out and I said: “oooooo Riverrr. Your mom is gonna be maaaaaad… You ate all that candy tsk, tsk.” When Jeanne came in half asleep, River said: “ mom, you can’t come in here because Megan says you’re mad because–I ate all the candy.”

She just walked away un phased, to which his response was: “phew, that was a close one.”

He loves me so much, his whole being lights up when he sees me. It’s nice to be greeted with such enthusiasm. He always gives me a big hug and starts dancing around when I come over, and always asks about me when I’m not there. He tells Jeanne: “I need to be with Megan because she loves me.”

Gemini’s have a very lively imagination, which is why they are so creative. They are natural writers, and sweepingly romantic. They foil Sagittarius in this way. They are natural orators, commentators, creative genius’, musicians, actors, and designers. They have a natural eye for an image, and it’s a very effortless process for them.

Gemini’s avoid conflict and like to walk away before things become too heated. Gemini tries to be a pacifist however, if you back them into a corner they will not hesitate to retaliate and put you in your place.They’re not afraid to stand up for themselves and can be quite severe with their words when they are angry.

They are extremely independent and can’t be controlled. I sense this is why Gemini and Scorpio have an attraction to one another, Scorpio sees it as a challenge and Gemini enjoys the intense focus that Scorpio brings.

The Gemini mind is constantly racing with thoughts and ideas, as an air sign they can become constantly trapped in their own mind, which is why they appear to always be fleeing from something. Always arriving. They are more mercurial than Virgo, and are a pure incarnation of Hermes (the messenger God).

Gemini are curious creatures, and they are always soaking up their surroundings and retaining knowledge. They are natural investigators, they rival Scorpio in this aspect. Do not underestimate their ability to get to the bottom of things.

They are fickle and indecisive at times, but they are generally good friends. In my experience they are supportive and encouraging of whatever your dreams and ambitions are.

They are also majorly flirtatious, this is maddening to the more possessive signs. Gemini have a way with words, they are charming and genuinely like people most of the time. They can’t help themselves really, and just think they are being friendly. They are always on the go, have eclectic tastes, and prefer to keep things offbeat and interesting. Gemini love to travel, city life, large parties, art galleries, camping trips anything gregarious that will get them out in the world.

If they have more earth or water in their chart, they will tend to be a bit more shy. Though once they warm up their weirdness will come out. I have known a few shy gemini’s, but not many. Mostly they are VERY vocal about what they think and how they feel. They are usually great fun to play with. They are playmates.

More famous gemini’s include: Natalie Portman, Clint Eastwood, Donald Trump 😑, Prince, JFK, Marilyn Monroe, Nicole Kidman, Kanye West… You get the picture. They run the gamut from amazing to horrible. I think an important thing to note is that they are a dual sign. They have two sides to them, and as JK Rowling said in the HP series: it is not our abilities that decide who we are in is our choices.

Gemini’s like Johnny Depp, JFK, Prince and Nicole Kidman are excellent examples of all the beauty and artistry that Gemini can bring into the world. I find that highly evolved gemini’s who are artistically oriented and (most importantly) self aware are wonderful. Gemini’s who are unevolved, who refuse to look inside or be there for others because they can’t even be there for themselves are unbearable.

Gemini is the little girl asking you to play with her, they are murals spanning the walls of an otherwise filthy urban environment. They reinvigorate and add sparkle to any environment they enter. They are the wandering poet, the distressed painter mad with drink and excess. They are the inconsistency of the sky. The impurity of the air. Chalk drawings, geology, a massive library, microscopes, satellite signals, glitter polish. Air brush, pin wheels, sour candies. Music festivals, disco lights, The sound of music. The flowers of spring, blooming youthful, ostentatious. Forever young, and always inspiring.

[themattress]

Ranking OUAT’s Villain Redemptions

10. Mr. Gold / Rumpelstiltskin - What redemption!?  Rumple was an out-and-out villain in S1, and he didn’t truly change at all in S2 no matter how often he publicly restrained himself to appease Belle.  S3 was the only time he made an honest effort at redemption, but it was fraught with failures, temptation, doubt and relapses into asshole behavior.  The only thing that made it succeed was that it occurred in a very specific set of ideal circumstances...and that Rumple died at the end of it all.  After being resurrected and losing his son, Rumple quickly regressed into the villainy he’s comfortable with, becoming the Big Bad of S4.  In S5, we had that brief “hero Gold” arc that was not only morally insulting and nonsensical, but also pointless since he ends up choosing to become the Dark One again by the end of it...the Darkest Dark One, in fact, who is thoroughly unpleasant up until the very end of S6, where - after being faced with the consequences of his own evil actions, consequences that include the potential destruction of the entire multiverse - he does the right thing once, which leads to Belle taking him back, allowing him to help raise their son, and him getting accepted at the big family dinner by all of his victims. What the actual fuck!?  That’s not a redemption - Rumple hasn’t repented of his evil ways, he hasn’t given up his dark powers, he hasn’t sacrificed one damn thing, and he only did something good after his own evildoing backfired on him. He is literally responsible for the crisis he helped resolve.  And yet he gets rewarded with his own “happy beginning” with his abused wife and helpless infant son?  Fuck off, A&E.

9. Regina Mills / The Evil Queen - I technically consider Regina to have the worst redemption on the show since I refuse to accept Rumple as even having a redemption. Regina’s first attempt at redemption happened quickly into S2, some may argue too quickly. While it seemed to be going well at first, it soon became apparent that she was only doing it in order to regain custody over Henry rather than out of any true remorse or desire to change. The moment something goes wrong for her, she turns evil again, and ends up being even more heinous a bitch than she was before.  If the show had been operating under any logic, Regina should have been considered irredeemable at this point.  But instead, she is given another chance, and for most of S3 she does a surprisingly good job...until the last five episodes, where her redemption is suddenly fasts-forwarded so that she receives all the rewards she has not yet done anything to deserve: a new boyfriend, easy reconciliation with Snow and with Henry, a True Love’s Kiss with Henry that breaks the Dark Curse, light magic out of nowhere that defeats her previously more powerful sister, and the complete trust and forgiveness of the entire town despite her past victimization of them. But then one thing goes wrong for her, and while she resists falling back into full-on villainy, she still returns to being a whiny, spiteful, self-pitying woman-child who is always looking for the easy way to get what she wants and occasionally does do evil things to achieve this, yet is paradoxically treated by the rest of the cast as a messianic saint, someone who has come so far and worked so hard and deserves her happy ending, with the narrative frequently giving her all of the big hero moments at Emma’s expense.  In fact, much of her development comes at Emma’s expense, since A&E clearly see her as the true star of the show.  And that show just isn’t any fun to me.

8. Cora Mills / The Queen of Hearts - This one is just bizarre. Cora was a villain of the highest order all the way up to her death, where she had a dying epiphany as to where she went wrong in regards to her daughter.  But for some reason, her death is treated as such a tragedy and as such a source of guilt for Snow (not how she killed Cora, no, just that she killed Cora at all) that one would think Cora redeemed herself before her death, which just isn’t so.  Things got iffier when Cora showed up in the Underworld during 5B, and after doing one good deed in reconciling with her daughters and getting them to reconcile with each other, she is allowed to go to Heaven.  While I personally find this acceptable since Cora actually did repent of her villainy and fully acknowledge that she would deserve to go to Hell if that was her fate, I can see why many would be bugged about one of the most evil villains in the show’s history being shown going to Heaven while other characters higher above her on the moral scale - Milah, Gaston, Auntie Em, and even Prince James in the same episode - are condemned to the River of Lost Souls.  When put into that context, it seems less like a good lesson on divine mercy and more a case of creator favoritism toward the character. Cora probably should have just remained in the Underworld to continue her redemption.

7. Maleficent & Ursula - Two thirds of the Queens of Darkness (the other one, Cruella, was an irredeemable sociopath in life and in death), both of them have things that work about their redemption and things that don’t work.  For Ursula, her redemption comes when, after Hook brings her father Poseidon to town who restores her singing voice, she realizes that her true happy ending wasn’t recovering that but reconciling with her father, who is now repentant of his past patriarchal abuse of her.  This is all well and good, but Ursula really didn’t do all that much evil for the redemption to be powerful.  She always came off as lost and confused and hanging out with the wrong crowd, not truly villainous.  And then there’s Maleficent, who has the opposite problem.  Her happy ending is also reuniting with a family member, her long-lost daughter Lily.  It’s sweet and touching, but it also glosses over all of Maleficent’s established villainy.  Maleficent cursed people, burned people alive, destroyed a village, was deemed as having the greatest potential for darkness by a Chernabog, but none of it matters in the end. Even her sworn vendetta against Snow and Charming (whom were made to look like villains and Maleficent their victim) is abruptly dropped and she’s suddenly getting along with them. It’s pretty much Regina’s bullshit redemption but on a mercifully smaller scale.  Since Maleficent did not actually repent of her evildoing, the show should have treated her character accordingly - as still a villain and a potential threat, but also a loving mother.  At the end, she’d be the gray-shading which is complimented by Ursula’s white and Cruella’s black. 

6. Tinkerbell - Aside from the villain-to-hero journeys of Regina, Rumple and Hook in 3A, we also got Tinkerbell, who was an ex-fairy turned trusted partner of Peter Pan.  The Nevengers persuade her to help them, but only if there’s something in it for her (namely, leaving Neverland and being able to confront the Blue Fairy about getting her wings back).  In the end, inspired by Regina and Hook’s progress, Tink learns to believe in herself and earns her fairy status back.  It’s a nice little arc, but it’s missing one crucial detail - the nature of her villainy.  We never see her and Pan interact, we never learn exactly what kind of work she did for him to make him trust her so much.  We see that she’s a scavenger who is prone to violence, but that’s it.  Wendy, Pan’s longtime prisoner, is friends with her, so she couldn’t have been all that bad.  This lack of clarity undermines what is otherwise a good redemption.

5. Zelena Mills / The Wicked Witch -  For the most part, Zelena’s redemption in S5 and S6 really works.  She was never as bad as Regina, so already her changing is more believable. When she realizes that her wicked lifestyle is actually harmful to her baby daughter, she allows Regina and Robin to take her in order to keep her safe.  She doesn’t join Hades despite him professing his love for her until she thinks she can use her own love for him to redeem him.  And when it becomes apparent that it won’t and never will, Zelena kills him in order to protect her sister and everyone else in Storybrooke.  When Regina is an ungrateful bitch and blames her for Robin’s death, Zelena is ostracized from everyone else.  But even when the Evil Queen comes along and tempts her to return to her wicked roots, Zelena keeps firmly out of the conflict, preferring to remain a neutral party for her baby’s sake until her hand is forced and she joins the side of good despite it not really getting her anything and no hero save for Belle caring much for her.  This commitment to doing the right thing comes to a head when she actually sacrifices her magic, the thing she’d defined herself by for so long, to help stop the Black Fairy, a sacrifice Regina should have made long ago but never did. After this, the other heroes fully embrace her as one of their own.  It’s a great redemption, but there is one snag - Robin, both the man and the baby named after him.  The baby Zelena conceived through deceiving Robin into thinking she was Marian.  By - let’s not mince words here - raping him.  It’s not quite as bad as Regina with Graham, especially since Zelena didn't kill Robin and Robin was willing to give her a second chance of his own volition prior to his death, but it’s still rape all the same, and to have the rape victim die while the rapist keeps the baby is extremely squicky, no matter how surprisingly good a mother Zelena may be. This one aspect casts a shadow over Zelena’s redemption and it never should have happened. 

4. King Arthur - Arthur was a villain in 5A, a corrupt monarch obsessed with fulfilling his destiny and ruling over Camelot at all costs.  While despicable, Arthur was also somewhat sympathetic too, as he became more evidently pathetic as the arc went on and Merlin really did screw him up by filling his head with visions of a future he felt the need to achieve.  In the climax of 5B, Arthur escapes prison only to be promptly murdered by Hades.  Down in the Underworld, Hook confronts Arthur with the truth: he was a terrible king and will probably go to Hell if he doesn’t do something to atone.  Note that at first this is the reason why Arthur helps Hook in his quest for the book: he just wants to avoid the consequences of his villainy.  But as the episode goes on, a clear change in Arthur can be seen as he sees the depth of Hook’s feelings for Emma, his bravery and his nobility...in this lowly pirate, Arthur sees the man he had wanted to be and failed to become, making him feel true remorse.  Arthur then becomes invested in the quest to the point where he is willing to sacrifice himself to the River of Lost Souls so that Hook can get to the book.  And at the end, when a doorway to Heaven is open and Arthur has the chance to go through it, which was the whole reason he joined Hook on this quest at the start, he declines and opts to stay in the Underworld, to rule it as a benevolent king and make it a better place, which a short on the S5 DVD shows that he did indeed do.  In just one episode, Arthur had one of the best redemptions on the show, from a selfish cad to a noble hero.  While like Zelena, he also has a rape-like situation with Guinevere that remains untouched upon (he used magic dust on her to keep her from leaving him and turn her into his compliant wife), there was no confirmation of actual rape and even some proof against it (he was too consumed by his obsession with Exaclibur to do anything romantic for Guinevere, let alone sexual), so it’s not quite as harmful to his redemption.

3. Ingrid / The Snow Queen - Ingrid is an even better example of a great redemption being accomplished in just one episode.  Despite being terrifying, prejudiced and insane, Ingrid was also one of the most tragic and sympathetic villains to ever be on the show, with an absolutely heartbreaking backstory and her sole motivation being to have a family who loves her.  She cast the Shattered Sight spell in order to make everyone in Storybrooke kill each other save for Emma and Elsa, who would become her new sisters, but when Anna shows her a letter from her sister Gerta expressing remorse for imprisoning her and confirming that she still loved her, Ingrid realizes the error of her ways.  In one of the best redemptive villain lines in the series, she says “I am a monster. Not because of my powers, but because of what I let them turn me into!”  She then reverses the spell at the cost of her own life, telling Emma, Elsa and Anna that they are all amazing people and that she is proud of them, then saying that her happy ending will be to join her sisters in death.  The whole scene is acted and scored beautifully, and I can’t help but cry anytime I see it.  By acknowledging what she did wrong and accepting responsibility for it, Ingrid is one of the show’s best redeemed villains.

2. Anastasia / The Red Queen - One of the two main villains of Once Upon in Wonderland, Anastasia quickly began to look more appealing, sympathetic and redeemable in contrast to the monstrous villainy of Jafar.  Her main crimes, apart from aiding him, were giving up love for power and being a neglectful ruler to her people...and she was helping Jafar in the hopes of getting to change the past so that she never did any of that.  When this failed and it became clear that she wasn’t going to be able to take the easy way out, Anastasia gave up on her aspirations and finally took full responsibility for being a terrible queen, vowing to make it up to the people of Wonderland by fighting to save them from Jafar, a fight that she stuck through even when it got her tortured by the Jabberwocky and then murdered by Jafar. In the end, her redemption earned her life, being revived by the water from the Well of Wonders, and won her back the love of Will Scarlet.  Years later, she is still ruling Wonderland but now as the White Queen, who actively works to bring love, hope and joy to her people. Anastasia’s redemption is everything that Regina’s is not, with her being fully self-aware of her villainy, truly remorseful of her actions once she starts her redemption, and with purely altruistic motives - doing the right thing just because it’s the right thing and she wants to help make amends for her past mistakes.  Add in Emma Rigby’s performance and it’s nigh-perfect.

1. Killian Jones / Captain Hook - Hook’s redemption starts at the very end of S2, inspired by his regrets for failing Baelfire long ago and not wanting to do the same with his son Henry, putting aside his desire for revenge in favor of doing the right thing.  He had everything to gain by not making this decision, but he does so anyway.  Throughout 3A, he does an admirable job helping the heroes through Neverland and returning to being the honorable man he was long ago, although his motives aren’t entirely pure as he hopes to woo Emma. When he is separated from Emma and gives up hope of reuniting with her, he tries to go back to his villainous pirate ways, but is overcome with remorse after doing so, realizing that his time with Emma changed him to the point where it’s not just for her that he wants to reform for, but for himself too.  When he learns that Emma’s family is in danger and that he must find her and get her to go help them, he trades the Jolly Roger - and his home, crew, livelihood and reputation along with it - in order to do so.  He continues to do good not to “get into Emma’s pants” but to ensure her happiness regardless of whether she ever returns his feelings, and to be the hero he now sincerely wants to be. His redemption comes to a climax in S5, where he becomes evil again after Emma forces the Darkness upon him to save his life, and is once again put into a position where he’d gain everything he wants by following through on his villainy, but remembering that this is not the man he wants to be, he once again does the heroic thing instead, at the cost of his own life.  In the Underworld, Hook learns the value of self-forgiveness and accepts the possibility of a second chance at life, but when it looks like this is impossible, he promises Emma to move on to Heaven when she asks him too.  Unable to do so until his unfinished business of helping Emma defeat Hades is resolved, Hook has a heroic quest alongside Arthur where he proves just how far he’s come, and when he goes into the light to fulfill his pledge to Emma at the end of it, he is instead resurrected by Zeus, deeming him a True Hero worthy of being reunited with his True Love.  

Hook’s redemption is superb not just because of the events that transpire and his growth throughout it, but because of his overall attitude toward the whole thing.  He knows full well that he was a villain, is remorseful for every crime he committed and takes full responsibility for them, and whenever the chance to make things right with someone he wronged comes up, he takes it.  It takes a long time for him to fully get past his self-loathing for his past sins, as he doesn’t feel entitled to happiness just because he’s changed and is doing heroic deeds now, as opposed to Regina, Rumple and initially Zelena who all believed themselves entitled to a happy ending, their crimes and victims be damned.  And lastly, also unlike them, every privilege that Hook has by the end of the series he has earned through his own hard work at redeeming himself.  He has no leftovers from anything he gained as a result of his villainy, even the rings on his fingers have changed from ones that belonged to dead victims to new ones he presumably fairly bought.  His new wife and family, his friendships with others, his house, his ship, his job as deputy sheriff, his very life...all thanks to his heroism and the good karma it rewarded him with.  All of this is why Hook’s redemption is truly the series’ finest.

[elvesofnoldor]

i do have to say maglor as a character is weirdly inspiring for fanfic/ fan comic ideas cause i literally have, like, three versions of who or what he becomes after supposedly throwing the simarli into the sea and wander the shores for centuries to come 

version one: the ghost bound to the shore 

(in this version, maglor has faded from grief so much that he essentially became a living ghost. His own guilt over the bad deeds he has committed and allowed, effect of unfulfilled oath aka “everlasting darkness” and doom/curse of Mandos that came with it trapped him on the shore and a state between life and death. it is implied that his dead brothers did not go to the halls of mandos and were drawn to the last living member of the dead house. ) 

Despite his complicated feelings toward his surrogate father figure, Maglor, he looked for him. And towards the end of second age, Elrond actually found him by the exact spot where he has supposedly thrown the simarli gem into the sea, and Elrond pleaded with him to come back and fight on the behalf of his kins to redeem himself of the crimes he committed. “cleanse your soul of guilt so that you may come home”, Elrond said. Maglor responded with a sad smile and said that it would not be possible. He said that whatever he does, he would not be able to wipe the blood from his hands; he said that he is damned and that eternal exile is the fate of his lot. Elrond didn’t understand him for he has not heard the cursed spoken by Mandos himself, and in much frustration, he left Maglor by the shore. 

Then third age came and war of the ring passed, and Elrond knew it was time to go home. He has seen too much, and lost too much, his heart was weary and he only wanted to bring his family home. So he made another effort to search for Maglor, only to find him by the exact spot where he left him ages ago. This time, it was maglor’s singing that led Elrond to him in a seaside cave where maglor made a small home out of. He lit a fire inside the makeshift fireplace, yet the air remains cold and stale inside the cave. Elrond pleaded with him again--this time he pleaded maglor to come home with him to the west. Yet again, maglor said no to his request. “My brothers are here, this is home for me now.” Maglor said. But Elrond is at the end of his patience and he would not have the cryptic response for an answer, so he dragged Maglor by the sleeve in an attempt to get him to come with. Frightened, maglor cried out, “I told you--i CAN’T leave!” then elrond suddenly understood why maglor refused to leave the shores all these centuries, why he always found him in the same spot on the same shore, and why the air is cold and stale inside the cave he “lives” in. Then the fire went out and Maglor tearfully said his goodbye--the final goodbye--to the child that was not his. When Elrond, in great sorrow, finally mastered the strength to turn around and walk out of there, he swears that he saw, at the corner of his eyes, the six other sons of feanor--with blood streaming down their faces--standing in a circle around the poor maglor. 

version two: the legend, the “mad witch”, basically inspired by a post i reblogged yesterday

(basically the same idea as above, except that maglor is almost definitely dead--by drowning or completely faded from grief--and has become “as shadows of regret before the younger race that cometh after” according to the doom of mandos. In this version, elrond never found maglor in his search and this version is supposed to highlight how maglor came to love the twins--to make up for being responsible for their abandonment in the first place, and to take care of their family, even if they are just distant relatives. It was out of his desire to take care of his family and also out of his guilt over what he has done, this should not be rocket science lol. I shouldn’t think it’d be too hard to use your brain cells and understand maglor’s motivation instead of downright demonizing him and think it makes no sense that maglor loved the twins lol like can some of you not understand basic texts?) 

The remote towns near the shore all know of an urban legend. Fathers and mothers warned against their children--especially the twins with dark hair--to be wary of the mad witch that led away from their parents. legend has it that a ghost of a tall and slender woman with long raven dark hair haunts the shores in white frayed robe, carrying nothing with her but a lute. She sings in a strange tongue nobody recognizes, and with her beautiful yet sorrowful songs, she is capable of bewitching the hearts of children. They say the mad witch has either killed her own two children or has unintentionally led them to meet their untimely deaths, and after she drowned himself, her spirit is doomed to wander the shores in grief, desperate for her children to be back to her side. Some says they once saw the mad witch by the sea or by rivers and ponds near the sea, and flee at her terrifying and desperate cries as she tries to wash the blood on her hands that she can not wash away. Every once a while, the mad witch would come near the nearest seaside town. There, with her fair songs and even fairer voice, she’d lure to her side a pair of young twins with raven dark hair as black as hers. She would then disappear to raise the children as her own until they come of age, and by then the grown children would, without fail, miraculously re-appear at their parents’ doorsteps--unharmed and healthy yet they can only speak a strange dead tongue which no one knows the origin of, possessing knowledge they should not know of and old tales long forgotten by most and unheard of to mankind. When they were re-taught the modern tongue of men, the now grown children would claim they have no memories of where they have been--saved the sounds of a gentle voice and the many sweet songs it sings. 

Men’s Imagination weaved a haunting tale of the mad witch, but nothing about the tale came close to the truth behind it all. While the mad witch is neither witch or woman, the ghost is real and has indeed perished on the very shores it wandered. The name Macalaurë--as the ghost was once called--belonged to an elven prince from a time long gone, he was once known as the greatest singer among the clan of noldor elves. Like his kind, he once bodied the light of the two trees. However, that light died within him a long time ago and his heart was sick and broken by the oath long before he perished. Gentle he may be in spirit, he was not strong-will enough to defy the desire of his brothers, and he was just as lost as all of them. In desperation to fulfill their dreadful oath and avoid the consequences in the breaking of the oath, they have damned all of their souls. Three kinslayings, with the last one being the worst of it all, and Macalaurë had a hand in all of them. He closed his heart to his would be victims and shut out his guilt to do what he thought must be done. Some’d call it cowardice, some’d call weakness, either way his soul is stained and his heart made wary. In the last kinslaying, Macalaurë found two children--a pair of twin from the house of fingolfin, abandoned by their mother. There was blood, so much blood on his armour, his clothes, even in his hair. He watched his brother cut down unarmed elves one by one and worst of all--he helped him. Maedhros was filled with rage as he committed the crime while Macalaurë simply lied to himself as he always does. “It has to be done, they asked for it, we have to fulfill the oath and they should have been smarter than to refuse us that” Macalaurë thought to himself, “they killed our brothers and called upon our oath, so death they shall have to accept.” When both of them came to their senses again--when he came to his senses again--Macalaurë saw two of their kins shivering in fear at the sight of them. Macalaurë thought to himself, no more, no more blood, no more senseless tragedies, and he took them in. 

At first they were leverages, bargaining chips, defences against rightful anger from gil-galad. Then they...become his children. Was it because they reminded him so much of the twin brothers he lost? Was it because the guilt of being responsible for their abandonment eat him from the inside? Or was it out of desire to make up for even a fraction of his crimes? Was it the children woke the part of him that longed to be someone’s parent, someone’s guardian? Or maybe it was all of them at once? Either way, the elven prince with a sick heart raised them and loved them--and he still does, and that much he was sure of. There was so much blood and he could not wash them away, and part of him thought maybe in loving the children--he could. Even in death, as he was trapped in a purgatory where time itself bleeds into each other and the past becomes the present and the future at once, he still believed that raising the twins can wash away his sins and regrets. So he repeated the act of redemption, over and over again, even when the twins he raised are never the twins he raised he loved and raised thousands of years ago--it did not matter to him. 

Stories are always simpler than the truth, and perhaps it was better that the men of seaside towns know of the ghost...simply as the mad witch who mourned for her lost children. 

version three, the happier version: The wandering Bard. only partially inspired by the post i reblogged yesterday

(maglor is alive and relatively well, he’s forsaken his identity and lives as a bard that moves from taverns in one seaside town to taverns in another. in this one, he evaded elrond’s searches for he could not face him at rivendell. this version emphasizes on maglor’s role as a poet and storyteller. in this version, he has written the manuscript he’d later title Silmarillion and he’d given that manuscript to Sam when he encounter the hobbit after he could not find Elrond at a now abandon rivendell ) 

Later on in the ages of middle earth, the drunks of tavern would speak of a strange young bard with raven dark hair and a pair of eyes darker than the blackest night. Like all bards, he sings of past deeds of kings and princes, lords and ladies; different than other bards, this one sings of events so distant in the past that they become barely believable. He sings of the tragic fates of kings and princes of elven king, and a land in which fae-like beings live among Gods, as well as two mighty trees that shine before there was even sun and moon. “Tall tales of fairies,” the loud mouth patrons’d say, “you make them up just for a laugh, lad, anybody can tell!” The young bard only laughs at the accusation and offers no defence. Sometimes he would amusingly rebut that he is no lad, and when the patrons asks of his age, he’d smile and simply say that he is “old enough.”. The young bard is embodiment of walking contradictions--he is both mischievous and cheerful, yet wistful and weary; his eyes are the windows to a bottomless storm, at the same time, they are the colour of gentle cool summer nights. some says that he is an old soul wearing the face of a youth, little did they know, they weren’t so much further from the truth. 

However, only the ones that threaten his well being would be able to see his true identity--the face of an elven prince who has killed in too many battle and a taste of the wrath of elvenkind. Bandits often gamble at the tables and the clever bard’d always manage to win the rounds and takes their coins--even when they are sure that the game is rigged to their favours. So the crude men would ask for their money back, thinking that he was but an unarmed lone traveller who would fall to their knees and gave them all that they are owned and more. They were wrong, of course, when the bard struck a chord on his lute and sent them flying, when he moved like a snake on the ground and evaded their clumsy attacks with ease and used their weapons against them. Dead man tell no tales, or those who can hear what they’d say would be terrify of the strange young bard. But if you hear it from the bard, he’d only say that it’s regrettable business--he shed too much blood and he wishes that he could stop doing so. 

The bard fathered no children, and took no wives, but he has taken sindar lovers of many kind through his life. After all, his voice isn’t the only thing that is fair about him. Some were women--mostly those that tend to him at the taverns and steal shy glances at him as he sings his songs, and most were men--mostly rangers and sellswords that pass through the towns for a gig or two. Men were short-lived beings whose hearts are filled with yearn for violent and filthy delights, yet ironically, their simplicity let them forgive him in ways his kins can never do. There once was a sellsword with hairy chest and tanned muscles, who killed men for a living and once helped him to dispatch a gang of bandits. When he told him about his true identity--under the guise of “lie”, of course--the man only laughed, “kinslaying was your greatest crime? if that was the case, I have killed my kins for a living and i don’t see the big deal in that.” The bard does not how to respond to someone who could not even understand his sins, and their ignorance is a bliss and relief to him at the same time. it was not hard to captivate the hearts of men with his beauty, but it was hard when he has to say no to those who wanted more from him than one or few nights of passion. The same sellsword has accompanied him for a while, and when he asked why the man has taken such interest in him, the sellsword simply said that he wish to protect him. Maglor is no wise prince but even he could tell that the man wanted to be with him, that the man has fallen in love. “you life is too finite to waste on someone like me,” Maglor had told him. “your life isn’t?” The man threw the statement back at him and it ached Maglor that he could not tell him the truth.