#like what am i supposed to do with that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

surprisedyetagain · 6 months ago

Text

The Shuttered Princess - I

After a decades’ long war between the First Realm of Lerosia and Uiorn, Kingdom of the Merciful— named ironically so, considering the fact that Uiorn was the nation that originally started the struggle by assassinating King and Queen Varrs— serenity was finally brought to Lerosia and Uiorn after a peace treaty was proposed by the heir to the throne of Lerosia, Viveka Varrs; more commonly known as the Shuttered Princess.

Ever since, Lerosia has been ridden from any sort of foreign conflict. However, the end of the war could not come without its consequences. At the start of it all, Madam Viveka was only nine years old and had little to no experience running a country. When her parents were assassinated, she was left alone to protect her nation from the strong military powers of Uiorn. With guidance from her advisors, she successfully pulled her country out of the war— of course, it didn’t happen instantly. The war was officially declared over about thirteen years after it had begun.

After all military forces were sent out of both nations, Madam Viveka was reported to be seen going back inside Rosin Palace and has not came out since. All visitors have been shunned and the only people allowed inside are the palace staff and requested civilians. Letters have been sent, interviews have been conducted with members of staff, cameras have been set up at windows. Still, Madam Viveka has not been seen for almost a year.

Not even through a window.

The only sounds to come from the room of Madam Viveka are stunning songs played on a piano.

—

There was a light knock on the pale, white door to the bedroom of Viveka Varrs, the Shuttered Princess. A servant stood outside of it— the source of the knock— with a gold, exotic-looking tray. It had a porcelain teapot with soft pink flowers painted on the sides of it and a few little teacups with the same design.

The servant stood tall and waited patiently as he usually did, Madam Viveka was not one to answer the door the moment it was knocked on. Usually, this resulted in her tea being lukewarm and tasting slightly stale as if it had been left out for awhile, but she didn’t seem to mind and drank it anyways without uttering a single complaint.

This servant in particular was named Pear— a peculiar name (which he was oft made fun of for because of it) for an upstanding young man, but a name nonetheless. He had lived in the palace most of his life, coming from a long generation of servants for the Nobility of the Varrs. He walked straight, kept his uniform clean and at the end of the day did his job correctly— a favourite of Madam Viveka because of this.

Soon after the knock— much sooner, six or seven minutes— Madam Viveka opened the door. She was a fair maiden, one might say. She had long, blonde hair with slight curls that dropped down to her hips, wide grey eyes that were enchanting, allowing many observers to get lost in her gaze, skin a similar colour to fresh silk, adorned with freckles along her face and shoulders and a nose that was surprisingly larger than average, but not by too much. She was almost a spitting image of what she had looked like thirteen years ago, except for the fact that she was about two inches taller.

She always spoke with a honeyed tone and the same could be said today. “Ah, Pear. Thank you for the tea. White, per usual?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

“Indeed, Madam Viveka,” Pear said in response.

The two stood in a heavy silence after that small and meaningless interaction. Madam Viveka didn’t take the tray and shoo Pear away, and Pear surely didn’t bring up the fact that her tea was getting colder the longer she waited. Pear attempted not to look directly at Madam Viveka, tapping his foot idly. Madam Viveka had a forced smile that clearly was voluntary.

Why were the two so awkward you may ask, dear reader? Well, to put it bluntly—

The two had made out in front of Madam Viveka’s suitor.

Ahem. Let me explain.

Madam Viveka was told by her advisor, Ras Berê— another peculiar name, that sounded like something Madam Viveka couldn’t place her finger on— that she needed to find someone to rule Lerosia alongside herself. It was indeed tough to rule alone, but after being isolated in a palace her entire life, she quite liked the loneliness.

Ras Berê set up appointments with many different suitors that Madam Viveka didn’t truly like, so she picked a random one to satisfy her advisor. She would often have “meetings” with this suitor, whose name was Tom Aito, that were truly just small, hour increments of Viveka locking Tom Aito out of her room saying that she was “getting changed” as an excuse not to see him.

Tom Aito believed that Madam Viveka was playing hard to get— all this aversion had caused him to become more attracted to Madam Viveka, to her disdain. To get Tom Aito off her back, Madam Viveka had her most trusted servant, Pear, to join her in one of these meetings. She had actually let Tom Aito in for once.

Without warning Pear beforehand what would commence, Madam Viveka had dove in for a kiss— multiple, actually. This worked well and she hadn’t seen Tom Aito since, but now her relationship with Pear was quite awkward.

Hence the silence.

Madam Viveka swiftly came back to her senses and snatched the golden tray from Pear’s hands without another word muttered and slammed the door behind her. Pear stood stunned in her sudden wake, caught off guard.

After a few a seconds, he collected himself and went back down the winding staircase he had came up from. It was a very long staircase, considering Madam Viveka had decided she wanted her room to be in the previously abandoned Rosin Tower, barely connected to the rest of the palace.

Madam Viveka placed the golden tray on her vanity, not bothering to take another glance at it. Her vanity was a mess— there were words drawn all over the mirror in a pale lipstick, barely legible. The only words that could be made out with a quick glance were “savior” and “defiance.” Random necklaces and bracelets were draped wherever they landed on the vanity and the white paint had numerous scratches as if a lion had decimated it.

Madam Viveka’s room looked clean upon first glance (ignoring the vanity), but there were many things off about it. Every bit of furniture seemed to have the same scratches that were on the vanity, large and monstrous. Even the white piano in the corner of the room had its fair share of scratches.

There were blades hung upon the walls and messages written in a similar manner as the ones on the vanity. They were almost everywhere, blending in with the darkness of the room. “Restless,” “lies,” “holy…”

Her white sheets on her bed had multiple red stains on them that hadn’t been removed, not even hidden by blankets or pillows. They were displayed in an almost prideful manner— the stains were important somehow. They were oddly in the shape of roses.

The only thing of interest was the odd obsession with pumpkins— they were everywhere, a pale pink similar to the rest of the room. They were rotting slowly from the inside to the outside, creating an awful stench inside the room that wasn’t very pleasant to linger in.

Madam Viveka walked over to the only window in the tower and took a seat in what seemed to be the only piece of furniture left untouched by the large scratches. It was a comfortable chair with soft cushions that felt like clouds. She opened the curtain just a peak so she could see the outside world.

It was a gorgeous splendour to Madam Viveka— being so high up you could observe the entire world just through a window…

And even then.

Having so much power

Being so high up

It’s lonely— and the loneliness?? It can drive someone mad.

Madam Viveka observed the falling leaves from the many trees that adorned the gardens of the palace garden. They were all shades of red, yellow, orange, brown, creating a beautiful display from above. She often liked the way Mother Nature looked during the fall— warm, majestic. Something she wished she could witness in person.

She spent about five minutes at that windowsill— she didn’t like opening the curtains for long, the public would usually swarm the base of the tower once word got out that her curtains were open. She quickly shut them again, leaving her room in darkness.

Madam Viveka waltzed over to her piano. She knew what she had to do— and she wasn’t going to rest until she did so. Hours and hours would pass, the thunderous sounds of her piano echoing in her tower… She wouldn’t stop.

She took a seat on the velvet stool. She took a deep breath— then placed her fingers on the key of the piano. It was cold, but it felt like an old friend beneath her hands. She played three deep chords, then began her playing.

The song itself started off calm with a bit of a dark undertone, slow in tempo.

The faster it got, the more chaotic and unpredictable the playing became, the darker the room seemed to get.

The words on the walls lit up as she played.

They whispered, echoing around the rooms.

Freedom

Hate

Power

Innocence

Childhood

Faster and faster, Madam Viveka played.

Savior

Holy

Light

Vision

All

The playing of the piano came to a loud halt, a cacophony of keys being slammed. The words continued to whisper throughout the room, glowing on the walls.

The rotting pumpkins scattered across the room slowly seemed to build themselves up again as the whispers continued. They were healing— and soon the smell of rotten pumpkin was completely gone from the room.

Madam Viveka got up from the stool. She crouched down, checking beneath the piano. Her dagger. She clutched it in her hands tightly, observing its every groove and chip— then stood up straight, dagger in hand.

She walked over to a pumpkin and thrusted the dagger down into the top of it, causing it to burst.

She repeated this again and again, each pumpkin exploding into a white pulp.

When she arrived at the final pumpkin, she whispered softly a single wish. “To mine enemy I hope to slay, crushing their heart with mine dagger midday.”

She slammed the dagger into the pumpkin.

A scream came from the palace.

It was loud.

Madam Viveka could hear it from her tower.

All she could do was grin.

Dagger in hand

Heir to the First Realm of Lerosia

The Shuttered Princess.

#writing #writeblr #my friend gave me the idea for the character #and i was supposed to use five words #AND THE WORDS I WAS GIVEN WERE #pink pumpkin music theatre and POSAY #like what am i supposed to do with that

1 note · View note

inkskinned · 2 years ago

Text

the thing is that they're so fascinated by sex, they love sex, they can't imagine a world without sex - they need sex to sell things, they need sex to be part of their personality, they need sex to prove their power - but they hate sex. they are disgusted by it.

sex is the only thing that holds their attention, and it is also the thing that can never be discussed directly.

you can't tell a child the normal names for parts of their body, that's sexual in nature, because the body isn't a body, it's a vessel of sex. it doesn't matter that it's been proven in studies (over and over) that kids need to know the names of their genitals; that they internalize sexual shame at a very young age and know it's 'dirty' to have a body; that it overwhelmingly protects children for them to have the correct words to communicate with. what matters is that they're sexual organs. what matters is that it freaks them out to think about kids having body parts - which only exist in the context of sex.

it's gross to talk about a period or how to check for cancer in a testicle or breast. that is nasty, illicit. there will be no pain meds for harsh medical procedures, just because they feature a cervix.

but they will put out an ad of you scantily-clad. you will sell their cars for them, because you have abs, a body. you will drip sex. you will ooze it, like a goo. like you were put on this planet to secrete wealth into their open palms.

they will hit you with that same palm. it will be disgusting that you like leather or leashes, but they will put their movie characters in leather and latex. it will be wrong of you to want sexual freedom, but they will mark their success in the number of people they bed.

they will crow that it's inappropriate for children so there will be no lessons on how to properly apply a condom, even to teens. it's teaching them the wrong things. no lessons on the diversity of sexual organ growth, none on how to obtain consent properly, none on how to recognize when you feel unsafe in your body. if you are a teenager, you have probably already been sexualized at some point in your life. you will have seen someone also-your-age who is splashed across a tv screen or a magazine or married to someone three times your age. you will watch people pull their hair into pigtails so they look like you. so that they can be sexy because of youth. one of the most common pornography searches involves newly-18 young women. girls. the words "barely legal," a hiss of glass sand over your skin.

barely legal. there are bills in place that will not allow people to feel safe in their own bodies. there are people working so hard to punish any person for having sex in a way that isn't god-fearing and submissive. heteronormative. the sex has to be at their feet, on your knees, your eyes wet. when was the first time you saw another person crying in pornography and thought - okay but for real. she looks super unhappy. later, when you are unhappy, you will close your eyes and ignore the feeling and act the role you have been taught to keep playing. they will punish the sex workers, remove the places they can practice their trade safely. they will then make casual jokes about how they sexually harass their nanny.

and they love sex but they hate that you're having sex. you need to have their ornamental, perfunctory, dispassionate sex. so you can't kiss your girlfriend in the bible belt because it is gross to have sex with someone of the same gender. so you can't get your tubes tied in new england because you might change your mind. so you can't admit you were sexually assaulted because real men don't get hurt, you should be grateful. you cannot handle your own body, you cannot handle the risks involved, let other people decide that for you. you aren't ready yet.

but they need you to have sex because you need to have kids. at 15, you are old enough to parent. you are not old enough to hear the word fuck too many times on television.

they are horrified by sex and they never stop talking about it, thinking about it, making everything unnecessarily preverted. the saying - a thief thinks everyone steals. they stand up at their podiums and they look out at the crowd and they sign a bill into place that makes sexwork even more unsafe and they stand up and smile and sign a bill that makes gender-affirming care illegal and they get up and they shrug their shoulders and write don't say gay and they get up, and they make the world about sex, but this horrible, plastic vision of it that they have. this wretched, emotionless thing that holds so much weight it's staggering. they put their whole spine behind it and they push and they say it's normal!

this horrible world they live in. disgusted and also obsessed.

#this shifts gender so much bc it actually affects everyone #yes it's a gendered phenomenon. i have written a LOT about how different genders experience it. that's for a different post.#writeblr #ps my comments about seeing someone cry -- this is not to shame any person #and on this blog we support workers.#at the same time it's a really hard experience to see someone that looks like you. clearly in agony. and have them forced to keep going.#when you're young it doesn't necessarily look like acting. it looks scary. and that's what this is about - the fact that teens #have likely already been exposed to that definition of things. because the internet exists #and without the context of healthy education. THAT is the image burned into their minds about what it looks like.#it's also just one of those personal nuanced biases -#at 19 i thought it was normal to be in pain. to cry. to not-like-it. that it should be perfunctory.#it was what i had seen.#and it didn't help that my religious upbringing was like . 'yeah that's what you get for premarital. but also for the reference #we do think you should never actually enjoy it lol'#so like the point im making is that ppl get exposed to that stuff without the context of something more tender #and assume .... 'oh. so it's fine i am not enjoying myself'. and i know they do because I DID.#he was my first boyfriend. how was i supposed to know any different #i didn't even have the mental wherewithal to realize im a lesbian . like THAT used to suffering.

29K notes · View notes