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lunarcovehq · 3 months

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Georgiana Ortiz is a Vampire that currently resides in Celestial Hills and has been a Lunar Cove resident for 169 years, though a fangtastic latte recipe isn't the only thing she is digging up.

ITS THE END OF THE WORLD

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis Woman, She/Her

DATE OF BIRTH: July 22, 1826

OCCUPATION: Archeologist and Owner of The Caffine Crypt

FACECLAIM: Victoria Justice

AS WE KNOW IT, AND I FEEL FINE

SPECIES: Vampire

CLAN POSITION: Member

AGE AT TRANSFORMATION: 29

WELCOME TO LUNAR COVE, GEORGIANA ORTIZ

Trigger Warnings: Death, Child Death, Arranged Marriage, War, Childbirth

Georgiana Luisa Ortiz Davis de Taylor; born the year of her birth country’s half-century celebration on a July evening in 1826. The fifth child and first daughter of a coffee trader from Puerto Rico and his beloved wife, in the colony of Georgia’s first city; Savannah. It was picturesque and serene. The nation’s first planned city with wide streets, public squares, and parks. Also a port town, Savannah’s proximity to the sea made it possible for the Ortiz family’s trade ventures to thrive. Each son was given his own delegations and all the daughters married off. Which included Georgiana.

It wasn’t love at first sight but a deep appreciation for the heart of a good man who was always kind and generous. Edward Taylor, a friend of her older brother’s, a shipping merchant like her father, and a local to Savannah just like her. They shared eight children together over the course of a decade; only five survived into adulthood. It was the greatest ache Georgiana ever knew; the death of a child. There were no words that existed that she knew to describe such a loss. An insurmountable grief, deaths that she would mourn for all of time.

Eight children took their toll. After her youngest’s birth, Georgiana's human body grew weak. Dizzy spells and the occasional fainting weren’t uncommon. Her family, friends, and neighbors all expressed their concern. Their fears made reality the day Georgiana collapsed at the top of the stairs during a dinner party. Her body tumbled down the wooden steps til it smacked the bottom in front of all her guests. She was dead before her head hit the floor. Hours passed, her body cleaned and redressed, left on the parlor table for her burial the next day. In private, her husband and their children said their goodbyes. A small mercy Georgiana would be grateful for later when it came to giving them closure.

By morning, Georgiana was in a carriage, leaving Savannah; the only home she’d ever known. Headed North, to a town called Lunar Cove, with her maker for a new life as a Vampire.The one who saved her. A friend of a friend in attendance that night who had slipped his blood into her wine, only hoping to cure the lady of the house of what ailed her after hearing the whispers of concern from her friends. It came as much a shock to him as everyone else in attendance when Georgiana died, still he took the time to welcome her into an immortal life.

In the New England town, Georgiana learned how to be a vampire; to curb cravings, to compel, to live this new life she had been given. Though a better alternative than death, it was a life full of grief for her family. In the solace of a friend, Georgiana found a new family; a chosen one. Meena Raja, who at the time was second in command to the town’s vampire clan, quickly became Georgiana’s closest friend. Both women grew up in society, though a continent and a few decades apart. They shared a love for fashion, music and all the arts, as well as an affinity for gossip like any aristocrat. Georgiana recovered a piece of her humanity in her dear friend Meena. A gift she would not know again for some decades until she returned to Savannah for her son.

During the American Civil War Georgiana’s former husband and two of their sons died, leaving only her daughters and eldest boy alive. No measure of time passing made those losses easier, not during her tenure as a human or her eternity as a vampire. It was an eternal, forever kind of ache for each and every single one.

Two and a half decades came and went. Georgiana did not age but still changed with every rise and fall of the sun. Receiving an education, a real education, for the first time equipped her with the ability to guide her family from afar. To ensure their prosperity in business and their safety when it counted. She kept a careful eye on them throughout the years, especially her children. No longer babies but men and mothers, too. It was a different kind of ache; watching life go on without you.

When word arrived that her only son left alive had been thrown from his horse and was fast approaching death, she left her new home for her old one. Upon arrival, the hospital pronounced him dead, but Georgiana heard his heart beating, faintly, the moment she entered the morgue. Inaudible to human ears, yet it was the loudest, most profound sound she’d ever heard; since the day of his birth when Georgiana heard the first cries of her first child.

Peter thought his mother was an angel, returned to Savannah to take him home when she offered him life everlasting. Only part of which was true.

The years came easier with Peter at Georgiana’s side. They mourned together, their mortal family’s lives. First within the safety of a supernatural home but venturing abroad at the turn of the century in pursuit of education, experience, and travel.

Georgiana attended universities across the Euro-Asia continents until the start of the first world war. They did what they could to help the allies. It was a long four years. When peace returned to the world, Georgiana and her son went home. Lunar Cove was a soft place to land after the trials of war. She was grateful for the peace, finally able to return to her studies and reunite with her cherished, chosen family.

In honor of her parents, Georgiana opened a cafe. Her father was a shipping merchant who met her mother through a business associate in the Puerto Rican coffee trade. She named the shop sardonically for the creature she’d become. The Caffine Crypt became a second home away from her estate in Celestial Hills. She relished the days of working in its corners, appreciating the smell of fresh ground beans, as she put ink to paper. Cataloging her life, her work, her thoughts.

The second world war came and went. Georgiana found a place in her mind where the bloodshed lived. A survivor of three wars, now. The blessing and curse of her life; to watch as all the world moved by.

After many years of interest, Georgiana found herself in the dirt. An archeologist with her own team, searching for things they’d never find. At least, not publicly. Georgiana kept the best treasures for the town. More than just human tokens, too, but magical relics that amazed a woman who was born no more than human. Safely stored in Lunar Cove, awaiting use should the town ever need.

For more than a century and a half, Georgiana has maintained an estate in Celestial Hills. A home she often returns to, to spend the stretch of years between extensive bouts of intense research, to reunite with her family. Her son, Peter, and her dearest friend Meena; no longer second in command but leader of their clan and mayor of Lunar Cove. Feast Georgiana took to celebrating with the most elaborate of parties. An ode to their days of girlhood in the upper echelon.

Over the years, much has changed about the world and the safe haven she calls home, but Georgina fears not war or death. A survivor of both, too many times to count. No threat could keep her out of Lunar Cove.

#The Caffine Crypt owner #The Caffine Crypt #Georgiana Ortiz #gia ortiz #victoria justice #taken vampire #celestial hills #all

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wishesofeternity · 1 year

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“Nothing about the calamitous circumstances of Noor Jahan’s birth ... could have predicted the extraordinary and glorious career she was to have in the most glittering court in the world.

Noor Jahan is born in a caravan, outside the town of Kandahar, as her parents flee poverty and persecution in Tehran to seek their fortune in the rising Mughal court of Akbar in Hindustan. Her parents, Asmat Begum and Mirza Ghiyas Beg, are from a noble Persian family and the child Mehr-un-Nisa is given a thorough education in the Persian arts and letters. The educated, cultured Ghiyas Beg obtains a modest mansab of 300 horse at Akbar’s court at Fatehpur Sikri, which already counts numerous other Persian immigrants in attendance. At seventeen, Mehr-un-Nisa is given in marriage to Ali Quli, a Persian mercenary, who obtains some measure of fame as an excellent shot at the court of Salim Mirza, the future Jahangir, and is given the title Sher Afghan, killer of tigers. Mehr-un-Nisa learns how to hunt and shoot with her husband and gives birth to a daughter, Ladli, in 1605. Three years later, at the age of thirty, Mehr-un-Nisa is widowed. Mehr-un-Nisa and Ladli are taken into the household of the Mughal court, where Jahangir is now padshah. Her father has been awarded the title Itimad-ud-Daulah, ‘Pillar of Government’, and is Jahangir’s revenue minister while her brother, Asaf Khan, is an increasingly influential nobleman of the court. Mehr-un-Nisa is taken into the entourage of Ruqayya Begum, Akbar’s senior-most surviving widow, a childless woman, to whom she is a steady and cherished companion. ‘This Begam,’ writes a Dutch cloth merchant, Van den Broecke, about Ruqayya, ‘conceived a great affection for Mehr-un-Nisa; she loved her more than others and always kept her in her company.’ It is an established custom at the Mughal court that the padshah must protect all the widows and dependent members of those who have served him, and this tradition adds to the ever-growing number of women, children, and retainers in the Mughal zenana. In the imperial zenana, Mehr-un-Nisa has the close companionship of her family, especially her beloved parents, and the enormous network of zenana women.

“...it is in the meena bazaar in 1611 that Jahangir, now a respectable forty-two years old, sees Mehr-un-Nisa with Ruqayya Begum. Jahangir would have known who she was, since Mehr-un-Nisa’s father and brother are already valued members of his entourage, so the circumstances of her family and widowhood are known to him. Speaking to her, Jahangir is now seduced by the beauty, grace and charm of this thirty-four-year-old widow and within two months Jahangir has married her and Mehr-un-Nisa has become Noor Mahal, ‘Light of the Palace’, in a mirroring of Noor-ud-Din, Jahangir’s own title, ‘Light of the Faith’.

Noor Mahal will be Jahangir’s last legal wife and by 1616, she has become Noor Jahan, ‘Light of the World’. They never have any children together and, indeed, by the standards of the day, Noor Jahan is a mature woman, but for the next sixteen years of his life Jahangir will never again search for distraction in a younger wife’s charms. He has always been nurtured and cherished by a coterie of older women—Gulbadan, Haji Begum, Salima Sultan, Hamida Banu and his own milk mother—and in Noor Jahan Jahangir finds a felicitous blend of comforting, reassuring care and a woman with enormous talent, charisma and ability. Noor Jahan shares Jahangir’s aesthetic sense and contributes in many ways to the expansion of his imperial vision and legacy. Within a few years, Noor Jahan is issuing royal farmans signed with her own seal, having gold coins struck in her name, engaging in trade and has a series of magnificent buildings constructed through the breadth of the empire. Exceptionally for a woman, drums are beaten before her advance and ‘sometimes she would sit in the balcony of her palace, while the nobles would present themselves and listen to her dictates’. Noor Jahan’s family, already influential, further prospers as she becomes more powerful. Itimad-ud-Daulah, temporarily disgraced because of charges of embezzlement, which a contemporary writer sarcastically notes when he says that ‘in the taking of bribes he certainly was most uncompromising and fearless’, is reinstated. Asaf Khan, Noor Jahan’s brother, is honoured with the gift of one of Jahangir’s special swords, the Sarandaz, ‘Thrower of Head’, and the atmosphere at the Mughal court becomes conducive to an increasing influx of Persian talent. Where once the Atka Khail and Chagatai reigned supreme, and then the Rajputs, the Persians now are increasingly powerful. But it is in conducting international trade that Noor Jahan is exceptionally successful and the quantum of wealth this creates for her gives Noor Jahan the financial reach to sponsor buildings, offer gifts, organize marriages and entertainments, and sponsor charity, on a scale rarely seen before in a Mughal woman.

“...As for Noor Jahan, her trade with the English is only a small part of her commercial activity. She owns and rents trade ships and trades with the Dutch and the Portuguese, in addition to the English. She collects duties at Sikandarabad on goods coming from Bhutan and Bengal, raw silk, spikenard, borax, verdigris, ginger and fennel, and invests specifically in the commerce of indigo and embroidered cloths. ‘The officers of Noor Jahan Begum, who built their Sarai there,’ clarifies a Dutch merchant, Francisco Pelsaert, ‘collect duties on all these goods before they can be shipped across the river, and also on innumerable kinds of grain, butter, and other provisions, which are produced in the eastern provinces.’ She begins her construction activities as early as 1616, when she spends 200,000 rupees on the Noor Manzil gardens in Agra. She also invests in infrastructure which helps in the smooth functioning of her trade routes. In 1620, following a proclamation from Jahangir for mileage towers, kos minars, to be built along all major highways in a bid to ensure safe travel in the empire, Noor Jahan builds a monumental caravanserai outside Agra called the Serai Noor Mahal. While many caravanserai were built during the reign of Jahangir, the Serai Noor Mahal is particularly magnificent, reflecting the wealth and splendour of its patron. It has large carved gateways, compartments for travellers, a bathhouse and a mosque. Two thousand travellers at a time, along with their camels and horses, can camp inside the serai at no expense. In the serai there are ‘servants, entrusted with the preparation of the food for guests, as well as doing all the other duties essential to comfort within the house, even to providing hot water for washing the feet’. All one has to do, specifies Manucci, is send for food from the nearby bazaar, since all other needs are met. ‘If the guests have horses,’ moreover, the servants ‘are required also to cook mung or chick pea, which is given instead of the barley we feed such animals in Europe.’ All this is done for just a small coin, which Manucci marvels at, admiring the servants’ work ethic when he says that ‘uncivilized and heathens though they are, they surpass our stable men and innkeepers of Europe’ who apparently are much more voracious in their fees. At night, the huge gates to the serai are slammed shut and bolted, to guard against thieves and brigands. The guard shouts out a warning to all the travellers, to guard their belongings, picket their horses by the leg and stay vigilant against wild dogs ‘for the dogs of Hindustan are very cunning and great thieves’. While most of the serais in the Punjab are relatively pedestrian, made from bricks, the Serai Noor Mahal is made from red sandstone, brought at great expense from the quarries at Fatehpur Sikri more than 300 miles away. The serai is decorated with traditional Islamic arabesques, but also with the Tree of Life and the flower pot of Persian iconography and elephants, peacocks and human figures reflecting the influence of Hindu art. There is also an inscription on the serai that proudly announces the name of the patron, the ‘angel-like Noor Jahan Begum’ so that all the traders and travellers on this lucrative trade route between Agra and Lahore are reminded of the power and compassion of the Mughal shahzaadi.

The trade, revenues collected and exorbitant gifts offered to the queen make Noor Jahan an exceedingly wealthy woman. In 1622, upon the death of her father Itimad-ud-Daulah, Jahangir awards the entire estate of this fabulously wealthy man to Noor Jahan, completely bypassing the dead man’s son, Asaf Khan. Noor Jahan is now the wealthiest woman in the Mughal empire and, arguably, in the world. Indeed Pieter van den Broecke, a Dutch cloth merchant, remarks that at the time of Jahangir’s death in 1627, Noor Jahan had amassed wealth ‘more than that left by the King’ himself. Jahangir himself had dazzling amounts of wealth which Hawkins estimated at half a billion rupees, a clearly inflated figure, but nonetheless a reflection of the visible opulence of the Mughal empire.

...Noor Jahan continues to be a dominant player in court politics and is also capable of being a talented and constant companion to Jahangir in all his activities. She is by his side in Ajmer when he participates at the urs at Moinuddin Chishti’s shrine. Jahangir has a large cauldron made in Agra and brought to Ajmer during the saint’s death celebrations. The padshah ‘ordered them to cook food for the poor in that pot, and collect together the poor of Amir to feed them whilst I was there’, Thomas Coryat, an English traveller, is surprised to note. He also observes Jahangir ‘kindling a fire with his own hands and his Normahal under that immense…brasse-pot, and made kitcherie for 5000 poor, taking out the first platter with his own hands and serving one; Normahal the second; and so his ladies all the rest’. Noor Jahan often accompanies him on the hunt, which Jahangir is very fond of, and excels at it. She understands his flamboyant need for entertainment as distraction from his many ills and occasional bad humour and organizes the most resplendent feasts. Even to the details of her involvement in embroidery design, clothing and jewellery, she demonstrates a fine taste which reflects Jahangir’s. Noor Jahan loves the colour white, and favours clothes in paler colours, as opposed to the more riotous tastes of the Rajput and other Hindu wives. She invents the farsh-e-chandani, a spreading of snow-white sheets instead of carpets in a room. She also invents the dodamni, a light cloth weighing two dams, and the pachtoliya, a cloth weighing five tolas, as a head covering for women, the high Turkish hats having long disappeared from the Mughal court. Jahangir too is an aesthete and passionately interested in the clothes and jewellery worn at the court. All his clothes are designed expressly only for him, and he wears them just once. Certain textiles and garments are reserved solely for his use and no courtier may use them. He introduces the fashion of embroidery on the collar and the hems of the long sleeves of the qaba. He also starts the fashion for earrings for men when in 1615, after a recovery which he believes he owes to Moinuddin Chishti, he has pearl earrings made which signified that he was a slave of Moinuddin. All the nobles and courtiers immediately do the same and now it is de rigueur for the elegant men of the Mughal court to wear earrings. Even Asmat Begum, Noor Jahan’s mother, contributes to the elegance of the courtly life by making perfumes. The Mughals love perfumes, having a visceral hate for the sweat that is provoked by the intolerably hot climate of Agra and Delhi. They bathe frequently and change their clothes every day, casting off their day-old clothes, handing them on to their servants. Incense is burned throughout the day through the rooms of the zenana and fresh flowers are brought in from the flower gardens to perfume the rooms. Chameli, mogra, champa, nargis, harsinghar gulab, kamal and malti are some of the flowers grown in the palace gardens and scent is also extracted from these flowers. One day, while Asmat Begum is making rose water, she finds that a scum is formed on the top of this hot concoction and that by collecting the scum bit by bit, she is able to gather a potent oil of such strength ‘that if one drop be rubbed on the palm of the hand it scents a whole assembly and it appears as if many red rosebuds had bloomed at once’. Jahangir is delighted by this perfume, which Salima Sultan tactfully names Itr-e-Jahangiri. ‘It restores hearts that have gone,’ exclaims the jaded padshah, ‘and brings back withered souls’. Noor Jahan and her talented family surround the emperor with beauty and elegance and it is not surprising that according to the eighteenth-century biographer Shah Nawaz Khan ‘the emperor used to say that until she came to his house, he had not understood domestic pleasures or the spirituality of marriage’.

... Noor Jahan is now at the height of her power and influence at the Mughal court. Her family have also become immensely successful, marrying into the Persian nobility and gaining steady promotions under Jahangir, none more so than Itimad-ud-Daulah. As early as 1617, Jahangir honours him ‘as an intimate friend by directing the ladies of the harem not to veil their faces before him’. There are very few men, apart from the padshah, his young sons and the eunuchs, who are allowed to visit the women of the zenana when they are without their veils so this is a high honour indeed. Itimad-ud-Daulah is appointed prime minister and granted a flag and a drum and, as a special favour, is permitted to sound his drums in the royal presence. In 1619, as part of elaborate Navroz celebrations, Itimad-ud-Daulah presents to Jahangir a magnificent throne, made by a Frenchman and erstwhile counterfeiter of precious stones. Augustin Hiriart is hired by Jahangir for his skill in making beautiful, jewelled objects, and at the Mughal court he is renamed Hunarmand from the Persian hunarmandi or skilful. The throne that Hunarmand has created takes three years to build and costs a staggering 450,000 rupees and Jahangir is well pleased. Jahangir is able to delegate most matters to his talented wife while he occupies himself with the matters that interest him the most: the beauty of the natural world, his ateliers with their painters of miniatures and the aggrandizement of the imperial image through the visual arts. Jahangir consults Noor Jahan, Itimad-ud-Daulah or Asaf Khan on most matters and the biographer Shah Nawaz Khan agrees that ‘the disposal of the affairs of the kingdom were in her hands’. Such is her power that ‘except for the khutba not having been read in her name, she exercised all the prerogatives of royalty’. The farmans she issues are wide ranging and numerous, similar in scope to Jahangir’s edicts. Moreover, whereas the earlier Mughal women such as Hamida Banu and Harkha Bai had simply had their names written on their seals, Noor Jahan’s seal on her farmans reads; ‘By the light of the sun of the emperor Jahangir, the bezel of the seal of Noor Jahan the Empress of the age has become resplendent like the moon.’

In 1621, Asmat Begum, Noor Jahan’s mother, dies and Itimad-ud-Daulah is devastated. Within three months of his wife’s death, Itimad-ud-Daulah dies too and for Noor Jahan, this is a shattering loss. She inherits all of her father’s riches and becomes fabulously wealthy but she acquires two powerful new enemies. In the next few years, as Jahangir becomes increasingly ill, his body faltering under the years of assault from wine and opium, various factions across the empire swirl and coalesce together to stake a claim for the Mughal throne. Asaf Khan’s daughter, the young Arjumand Banu has been married for ten years to Khurram Mirza, now Shah Jahan. Disinherited from his own father’s fortunes and wary of his sister’s ambition for her daughter Ladli Begum, Asaf Khan aligns himself with his son-in-law. Noor Jahan, meanwhile, has married Ladli Begum to the youngest of Jahangir’s sons, the handsome but imbecilic Shahriyar. The unfortunate Khusrau is given over to the uncertain care of Shah Jahan, who soon has him murdered, for the Mughal empire has now become worth killing for. The days when Babur encouraged his sons to get along with each other are long gone. There are betrayals and alliances and flickering violence. Noor Jahan enters the fray gallantly, at one point riding on elephant-back to rescue her beleaguered husband, who is practically being held prisoner by his erstwhile faithful retainer, Mahabat Khan, and his army of 5,000 Rajputs, because of the high-stakes intrigues surrounding Jahangir’s sons. But Shah Jahan has gathered a huge following during his years on campaigns for his father and upon Jahangir’s death, in 1627, he becomes Padshah Ghazi of the Mughal empire. Noor Jahan, vanquished, retires to Lahore with Ladli Begum, who is soon widowed when Shahriyar is murdered upon the orders of Shah Jahan. Mother and daughter live in quiet retirement and Shah Jahan decrees a generous yearly allowance of 200,000 rupees for Noor Jahan. All other signs of Noor Jahan’s influence and power, however, are meticulously erased. He bans the use of Noor Jahan’s gold coins, under pain of death, and has all her coins melted. Her royal drums fall silent and the imperial elephants are no longer hers to command. Noor Jahan displays the same grace and dignity in retirement as she did when she was Padshah Begum of Hindustan. She dies eighteen years later, and steps into immortality as the most charismatic and influential of the Mughal queens. But before her death, Noor Jahan creates one last piece of art—the ultimate reflection of her flawless aesthetics and her visionary and unique artistic expression. She builds a tomb, from her own funds, for her parents at Agra called Itimad-ud-Daulah’s tomb, which is so beautiful it will be used as an inspiration for a later, more famous, monument to love.

... Noor Jahan owed her meteoric rise to power to her status as the wife of the padshah. From the time that Jahangir dies, her powerful charisma vanishes, like dew on the misty mornings in her flower gardens at Agra. It is poignant that the most ephemerally beautiful and enduring monument Noor Jahan builds is not to the memory of Jahangir, but to her beloved parents, whose warm abiding presence was the bedrock upon which she built her legacy. Noor Jahan will spend eighteen years in charmless obscurity in Lahore, and it will be a galling reality to a woman who once commanded ships and ambassadors. As Shah Jahan settles into Agra and makes it the imperial capital, Noor Jahan may have taken some comfort from the fact that he was circled by a luminescent series of buildings, the Noormahal Serai, the Noor Afza gardens with their pleasure pavilion and, further away, Itimad-ud-Daulah’s tomb, all built through the wealth and the grace of her patronage.”

- Ira Mukhoty, “Daughters of the Sun: Empresses, Queens and Begums of the Mughal Empire”

#history #historicwomendaily #indian history #mughal empire #mughal era #noor jahan #jahangir #mine #queue

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vedicastrology-thestarsguideyou · 3 months

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hello!!! hope you’re doing well, i actually have a question that i’d like to clarify i guess? i’ve been told i’m a manglik basically my entire life (no mild or high, but just manglik) but as i grown older i looked up on some sites if i actually was a manglik and here’s what it tells me on all the websites :

i’m a mild-manglik however it gets cancelled as mangal dosha is cancelled as mars is in kanya , in the 1st house + jupiter is placed in the 11th house of karka and is aspecting the seventh house of meena, which nullifies the mangal dasha

+ 7th lord jupiter is aspecting the seventh house of meena in your horoscope, which nullifies the effects of mangal dosha.

can these actually cancel out the manglik dasha? especially if it is mild?

Hiii there.

Nothing in chart is cancelled put. Energy is energy. This the set of energy you decided to embody in this lifetime.

I have written about manglik yog.

Yes it's mild. But it will have a good influence on your personality, it's your 3rd & 8th lord sitting in 1st house.

It has its positive aspects too.

There's nothing to fear about manglik yog. Read my post on it and understand yourself better.

It's an abundant energy, how you use it depends on you . So you have the power to choose & decide.

Also yes. Jupiter is beautifully placed. 4th & 7th lord exalted in 11th is very beautiful placement. It also aspects the marriage house. It also softens you up. 🌼

Marriage will be good. :).

No need to fear Darling 🌼❤️😉

#astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #counseling #vedic #vedic astro notes #astro notes #vedic astro observations #astrology blog #astrologer

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theoryofone · 2 years

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Questions I have after reading The Oleander Sword:

Do the other priests really think Malini should not burn now that Malini claimed Karthik said she must live to fight the Yaksa?

Why is Mani Ara so into Priya? And yes, I mean in all ways.

Why does the Hirana respond to Priya more than any other temple child/elder? (Probably same answer as 2?)

Malini refused to burn and was allowed not to. Why didn't Alori and Narini refuse too?

Malini says her room door unlocked on the Hirana when Priya was fighting Meena. Why did the Hirana do that?

Does Rao know he is in love with Aditya and does Aditya know? Malini says/thinks in a chapter that she isn't going to mention something to Rao that he himself isn't aware of, after a mention of his feelings for Aditya, so does he??

How does Rao know about Malini's preference? I assume he knows given the odd emphasis on 'friends' when he speaks to Priya at Veri. Book 1 says Rao and Malini met for first time for real after Chandra became emperor, which seems recent. How did he figure this out so fast?

Bhumika says no debt Jeevan owes her requires him to accompany her to the thing with Ashok. What debt does Jeevan owe?

What were Sima and Lata talking about when Priya approached them on morning of battle at Harsinghar?

What was the point of the chapter where Swati decides to learn archery? Setup? Badass moment? Someone sneaked into Malini's tent?

Is Varsha and her baby going to be a problem? She seemed not-naive when talking about what she could do for her family via her marriage.

What's in Alor, Bhumika??

Will we ever get a geographical map of the world in the series? (Please Ms. Suri)

#The burning kingdoms #burning kingdoms #the oleander sword #the jasmine throne

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metamatar · 1 year

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Meena Kandasamy cosplays as Dalit when she’s Tamil dominant caste and OBC

man, i have not even endorsed her writing on caste for you to get like this in my inbox (bc i have not read her). i reblogged a gifset of pa ranjith films that used a kandaswamy poem. the caste politics of dalit obc relations are too fraught for a savarna person like me to really comment on with any authority but this claim of cosplay is really stupid for someone who has clearly acknowledged that she is the child of an intercaste marriage.

#anon #ask #i totally understand why dalits and other obcs on this website get chased off when they talk about caste

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liviavanrouge · 7 months

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Marriage

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Livia paced around, looking nervous, her three friends watching her as she muttered to herself. "Girl, calm down"Esme chuckles getting to her feet and walking over, stopping the pacing girl. "Yeah, you look fine but you'll tire yourself out!"Cerulan chuckles standing up and coming over. Livia sighed and relaxed then perked up at voices outside the room. "Is everything ready?" Hah, don't worry everything is PERFECT." The room door swung open, Livia popping her head out. "Gran Gran, Mister Nilo!"Livia beckons getting their attention. Maleficia walked over, Nilo trailing after her. "Yes?"Maleficia smiled stopping in front of her. "I talked with my family about this"Livia says fiddling with her fingers. Maleficia nodded, a silent encouragement for her to continue. "Will you give me away?"Livia asks. Giggling came from Evonie and Cerulan, Esme letting out a snort of amusement. "Never...who told you that.."Maleficia frowned her eyes glowing. "No! NO! I mean will you walk me to Jack!"Livia gasped waving her hands.

"Malleus will walk me in, and you'll walk me the rest of the way." Maleficia visibly relaxed as she let out a sigh, Nilo lowering the blade he had ready. "Then yes, of course I will Beastie"Maleficia smiled her expression softening. The woman eyed her wedding dress and frowned, pointing to it and adding a few adjustments. "Designers these days, honestly, can't find good ones"Maleficia grumbled Livia giggling as the fae woman fussed over her dress. "Know what, stand still, Beastie, let me try something"Maleficia huffed still displeased. She waved her hand, changing the dress entirely and smiled in approval at her work when it was done. "That's better"Nilo smiled looking impressed. "Thanks gran Gran"Livia giggled looking at her new dress. Bells went off followed by the fluttering of birds, getting the groups attention instantly. "See you"Cerulan smiled walking out of the room. Malleus made his way over and held his hand out. "Ready to go?"Malleus smiled. Livia beamed and took his hand giving him a strong sense of deja vu. "Always"Livia smiled.

Jack fiddled with his sleeve, stopping when Leona flicked his hand and fixed it for him. "Can't even make yourself look, shishishi, what would ya do without us!"Ruggie grinned hands behind his head. "What would you did without me, I bought that outfit for you, you know"Leona smirked amused. "Hey, sit down, little man"Lilia orders grabbing Owl and sitting him down. Thea pointed a firm finger to Moon and Meena, keeping the two from roughhousing. "Hey, sit down"Golden smirked flicking his brothers nose. "Screw you!"Copper grinned flipping him off. "Copper"Rosalie scolds giving him a look. Copper turned and sat down pouting. Jack perked up, looking over as the doors opened. Lily walked beside Tabitha beaming as the two sprinkled flowers around, Cheka walking after them with Gidel, the two carrying the rings. Evonie walked in, leading Azul forward as Esme and Philip walked in after them followed by Cerulan and a nervous jittery Sebek.

"Honey, calm down"Cerulan giggled Sebek trying to relax. Jack helped Lily up, smiling slightly. "Thank you"Lily whispers. "You're welcome"Jack whispers back causing the crowd to chuckle. "Woah.."Ruggie grinned jack looking up. Livia walked down the stairs, Malleus walking beside her as he escorted her down. He nodded as Maleficia made her way over to them and stepped back. "Beastie"Maleficia nods smiling. She held Livia's hand, walking to the alter. Livia stopped then made a beckon to someone in the crowd. Falena perked up, then looked at his wife then at Leona. Leona smirked in response as Amara beckoned for him to go. Falena stood up, and took Livia's hand, walking with her and Maleficia down the aisle. "Why-"Falena whispers leaning down towards her. "Without you and Amara, I wouldn't have gotten through my internship, that's why"Livia smiled looking up at him. She looked forward, slowing to a stop. Jack held his hand out and perked up when Maleficia stepped forward.

"Do you love my granddaughter, wolf boy?"Maleficia asks staring him down. "...if I didn't love her I wouldn't be standing here right now, waiting for her to take my hand"Jack responds. Livia smiled slightly, a small chuckle escaping from her. Maleficia glanced between them and smiled. "Good, take care of her." She stepped to the side, Livia stepping up beside Jack taking his hand. "Well, you two, I think rather than me talking, you both speak from the heart"Aural suggests giving Jack a small grin. Jack perked up, and sighed. "Livia." She blinked and looked up at him curiously. "I still remember when I saw you through my mirror, I was shocked and ready to get hostile but then I saw the innocent and curious twinkle in your eyes"Jack confessed rubbing the nape of his neck. Lilia whipped around, finding Ash sticking his tongue out at him looking the smuggest of smug. Lilia made a line across his throat, glaring at him. "I never saw you again until we turned ten and I stumbled through my mirror into your room, we were both freaked out and I bolted back through"Jack mutters looking embarrassed. "I'm glad I saw you that day, otherwise I wouldn't be standing here right now." Philip pulled Azul back before the male unknowingly got smacked with Jack's wagging tail.

Livia smiled, looking amused. "It was weird seeing you through my mirror, then you passing through the glass, I was totally freaked out and ready to call for servants"Livia chuckled causing the crowd to chuckle. "But that day was the happiest because now I'm standing here next to you, which I wouldn't have any other way"Livia beamed. Thea giggled, Lilia giving her a small smile. "Jack, do-"Aural begins. "Always"Jack nods Ruggie snickering behind him. "Livia?"Aural grinned amused. "Yes"Livia smiled. "Then I have nothing else to say, go ahead you two"Aural smiled closing his book and stepping back. Cheka and Gidel held the rings up, beaming at the two. "Thank you, Gidel"Jack nods taking the ring. He slipped the ring onto her finger, Leona smirking when he noticed it was the ring he gave him. "Thank you, Cheka"Livia smiled taking the ring. "You're welcome!"Cheka beamed his voice echoing. Leona groaned, covering his face as Falena laughed patting the males back.

Livia giggled and slipped the ring onto Jack's finger, a soft smile appearing on her face. "You may kiss your bride"Aural nods Malleus' eyes widening at his words. Malleus perked up and quickly stepped forward, his eyes glowing as he raised his hand to curse Jack. "Don't you dare!"Aura warns pointing at him as the crowd clapped and cheered while throwing flower petals up into the air. Malleus silently sulked, Aura pinching his arm in a scolding way. He huffed but smiled, letting himself relax, Maleficia smirking as she watched the two at the alter. "Grandmother, do you nee-"Malleus started. "I'm not crying, I do not need a handkerchief nor tissue"Maleficia denied immediately. Nilo laughed, smiling at her in pure amusement. "You said that my dear, but you don;t mean it"Nilo teased. Jack picked Livia up and spun around before setting her down, laughter coming from the two. Cheka and Gidel tossed flower metals up with Lily and Tabitha, wide smiles on their faces. Epel clapped with Minako, Eliza sitting on his other side.

Cheka and Lily ran around the dance floor, adults laughing as they dodged the two running kids. Livia held Jack's hands, laughing when the two kids ran between them. "Hey, you two be careful, go with the other kids!"Falena laughed ushering them over to the kiddie side. "Okay Dad!"Cheka nods pulling Lily after him. Leona sighed, giving them an apologetic wave. Sherry grabbed the lion mans arm, laughing as she dragged him away to dance. "Hey you two! I booked you a honeymoon spot as a gift!"Kalim waved walking over with Virda following him. "Tried to stop him"Virda chuckles Kalim throwing her a winning smile. "That's very sweet Kalim, thank you"Livia smiled Jack standing halfway behind her. "Yep, the scalding sands is perfect for you Liv, and you can come visit me!"Kalim beamed Virda sighing at her boyfriends antics. "All that heat..."Jack sighed not ready for it. She laughed and grabbed his hand, pulling him after her, giving him a reassuring grin. "I'll take care of you, Wolfy!" He smiled and followed her. "Thanks Livy."

@anxious-twisted-vampire @yukii0nna @writing-heiress

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penning-captain-underpantsff · 1 year

Text

welcome (back) to Ohio

An au summary ( general plot) part 1

One of my old movie era projects I never got very far with. Focuses on Melvin moving back to Piqua after his marriage falls apart and his wife walks out leaving him with his 7 year old daughter Minerva.

He moves back because his parents are willing to help look after Minerva and ' piqua is familiar and he needs Familiar. He needs something he Knows that he finds ' easy '

and right now he needs easy

Minerva didn't get to make a whole lot of friends back Home ( idk where that is) but she Does have a lot of questions..that she doesn't get answered yet and she doesn't bring up again until later. Right now she's just happy to see her grandparents.

Cindy loves being around her grand daughter and melvins dad is trying to help Melvin out with the Being a dad part even though he admits he wasn't very present in his life.

His parents are retired but Melvin gets a Job at Big company/ maybe government job idk.

Minerva for the time is going to..you get it.

Jhes.

Krupp is still there ( he's gotta push his twins through college and he's got grand nephews he promised to look after before he retires). They chat, actually Melvin does a lot of catching up with old classmates. Ree is retired by now.

First day of school, Minerva bumps into a boy that looks a lot like a certain former bully.

It's one of kippers sons, Sloan ( a sixth grader). Unlike Kipper, Sloan is a good kid who tries to keep the peace between people.

She befriends Meena Beard and Kippers other son, Devon who all happen to be in the same class.

Meena is the unofficial ring leader of this trio. Minerva and Devon are both nerds in the Will make something questionable. Minerva for science

Devon because it looks Cool.

They end up in the Principals office..a lot.

They also interact with Captain quite a bit because Monsters of the week are back at school. And yes it's Their fault.

Meanwhile George, Harold and Melvin end up crossing paths and having a lot to say to each other. It's a sort of a long over due semi redemption arc for him

#captain underpants #melvin sneedly #Welcome back to Ohio #Minerva Sneedly

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alhaithamhabibi · 2 years

Text

I posted 342 times in 2022

That's 342 more posts than 2021!

47 posts created (14%)

295 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@that-one-pretty-bitch

@jeweledflowers

@rouecentric

@d10nsaint

@sidra-29

I tagged 302 of my posts in 2022

Only 12% of my posts had no tags

#the way to protect the female lead's older brother - 65 posts

#trash of the count's family - 35 posts

#manhwa x reader - 29 posts

#yandere manhwa x reader - 29 posts

#— meena's mutuals - 28 posts

#cale henituse - 23 posts

#trash of the count's family x reader - 18 posts

#alberu crossman - 18 posts

#the villainess is a marionette - 18 posts

#inso's law - 17 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#as for male leads... if they aren't cold to the bone just because and haven't killed the female leads in their past life or in the story

My Top Posts in 2022:

( PART 3!!! i'll admit it's more of a filler chapter with just wedding night details happening. since i cannot write smut to save my life, the content is more indirect rather than explicit. as always, it's unedited so pls ignore my typos and incorrect grammar. hope you enjoy it tho! )

it's universal knowledge that wedding night should be a couple's highlight of their marriage, their union, or luckily enough, their love for each other. it simply meant the couple had finally intimately bonded with each other. and it was usually witnessed by the couple's family, friends, or even their neighbors back then. though that certain tradition has been out of practice nowadays which did soothe your nerves a bit.

if you haven't witnessed your husband killing someone in front of you, perhaps it would've been easier to settle the anxiety knotting in your stomach. those cold crimson eyes, the bloodied sword, and the fear trapping you in one place had certainly given you a lesson to learn and a harsh wake of reality. in which you believed that reliving this life must be been some sort of fantasy and that you truly had gone crazy. but it's not and you really are here.

at the agriche mansion once again. in your personal bathroom, taking a much needed bath before you're escorted to dion's room. after the unannounced beheading, the dark-haired man only dragged you away from the mess and to the personal quarters where he and you will be residing. you had known the nooks and hallways so at least you won't get lost again. but the tightening hold on your wrist had you more concentrated on the pain rather than the gloomy scenery. and your husband, ever so kindly, didn't slow down his walking either before shoving to an open door where the maids were waiting for you.

it's more of a nightmare rather than a dream, you thought to yourself as you leaned your head on the back of the bathtub railings, eyes closed. perhaps you were still slumbering, unwilling to wake up? but then what? will you not wake up in your life again? failing to take your own life even? you would be back in your past life, constantly humiliated and your precious child gone...

quiet footsteps making your way quickly opened your eyes only to see your personal maid along with the two agriche maids trembling slightly before you. the young master believes you were taking too long, one of the maids explained as the others helped you out of the tub and into your attire. which now looked utterly ridiculous as you warily eyed the small piece of fabric. you could only scream at your past self for doing this to you. take that away, you shooed the outfit with a heavy sigh, i might as well wear the robe since clothing will be taken off anyway.

despite their initial protests you, you let the agriche servants out and kept your personal maid, iristyia, with you. all she had to do is make sure you look...desirable, you suppose with the scents, make up and all of that. at very least, you know iristyia wouldn't betray you since you both need up together. in fact, it was her who shared your pain and grief when the mistress appeared. and she was undoubtedly loyal in your last life till she was killed by the agriche monsters. you'll protect her this time. just before you left you whispered something to her and despite the shock on her face, she dutifully agreed. with that, you walked through the doors and stepped into the bedroom.

wedding night is unavoidable, you knew that. it's just that...you hoped it went quickly as possible. at least, you know what to do now as you head straight to the table and sat down on the chair. there was some wine on the table and you hoped to the higher beings it was enough that you would only remember this night as hazy as possible. you have not even glance at dion who has been eyeing you with a predatory graze since you walked into the room. you knew better than to talk right now.

in fact, you decided to take the scenery before you. the beams of moonlight had somehow made it's way in the candlelit room. the open balcony doors let the warm breeze in, gently swaying in the curtains. the rose petals on the bed, where your husband sat, were illuminated by the candles nearby. it was almost romantic the way the room was set in the mood. however, you knew better than to believe that.

so you went to drink instead. one glass filled, the second one filled once more, and then another and another and another until the bottle was nearly empty. till you felt yourself half drunk. your alcohol tolerance wasn't the strongest but it wasn't the weakest at least. and that's good enough for you.

let's get this over with, you mumbled and sauntered, albeit clumsy, up to dion who hadn't even moved from his initial spot in the bed. taking his face into your hands, your lips crashes onto his pale ones. it was just as you remembered it. despite not being with anyone before, he had much experience in this. before you were so shy and nervous, but whatever your lovesick mind created, you were led to believe it was dion who liked you in this way.

littering your neck with aggressive kisses, you know there were gonna be hickies and bruises. fiddling with the robe belt as dion was unable to take out the knot, his only solution was to rip up the robe as he hungrily took in your bare body. as he flipped you beneath him, you could tightening in his pants as it made itself known on your thighs. oh. you forgot to take note of dion's... stamina. quick as you wanted this to be over with, he had other plans it seems as he hastily took off his last piece of clothing.

and those plans took hours as you were certain it was past midnight. your body tired but he never stopped to give you rest. he was always the type to please himself, you thought to yourself as you held on to him. your throat was sore enough from the noises you made before so now you were reduced to the lewd moans and the sharp intakes of gasps that were let out. your poor legs wrapped around dion's waist he kept pounding you relentlessly, you were certain you wouldn't be able to walk properly tomorrow. and your arms holding on to his broad shoulders, to which your delight, you were able to scratch hard enough for him to bleed. petty it was but it gave you enough satisfaction that you made him bleed.

and just when dion thought he finally satisfied himself for the night, you pushed him down and settled right on top of him much to his shock. as you kept moving up and down despite your exhausted state, you found it to be worth it as you kept riding him. perhaps you were too tired to hold it back but you couldn't help but let the tears overflow as you reach closer to your final high. in his sick satisfaction, he reached to place his thumb over your cheek to wipe the tear away. but instead of wiping it, he licked it instead much to your disgust. your tears weren't even worth for him.

just before you could feel the knot come undone for you and him, you cupped his cheek with one hand while supporting yourself with the other hand. your glassy eyes meeting his intrigued crimson ones.

husband, you murmured leaning down for either pair of lips brushing against each other, let this be a reminder that i will never let you go. you'll forever stay within my grasp, unable to escape me.

154 notes - Posted October 17, 2022

( part four!! once again, excuse my typos and grammar. also sorry for the angst in the beginning lolnotsorry )

it was simultaneously quiet and loud at once. and yet you could still hear it. the labored breathing, the erratic beating of the heart, the anxiety twisting in your stomach. it was as if you were frozen in fear once more. but how could you not? when your husband's sword was aimed at his child, your beloved child. specifically, the weapon was aimed at their chest where the heart stayed. and you wanted to move but you just couldn't. ( it was terrifying how dion still had a hold on you even then. )

and you didn't want to believe that your husband would do this. no! he loved them, didn't he? he would never betray you like this, he would never betray his family. but your child terrified expression at their father had grounded you back to reality.

mama, your child wept as their body began to tremble, i'm sorry i couldn't pass the exam and become a true agriche. how badly you wanted to scoop your child into your arms and hold them tightly, telling them it wasn't their fault. that it was yours. you were stupid and naive. it was never their fault. and that you loved them the way they are and that would never change. ( you wished you said those words out loud to your child. why didn't you? )

dion, please, you begged as your voice cracked, this is our child. please don't do this. don't do this to me. if you had to kiss his shoes and deal with that wretched woman just for your child to be safe, you would take it in a heartbeat. but no choices were allowed here. and you knew it. but you had hoped that something that there was something that would make him realize his actions and prevent him from causing harm to one of his own.

but it was stupid to think that he was a man capable of feelings. i do not need weak children, he responded with an empty tone. was that indifference laced with it? but he pulled back his sword and you felt relief wash over you as you began to make your way toward them. how unfortunate it was brief emotion.

his cold red eyes were still unrelenting as they merely glanced at you before piercing the sword through your child's chest and pulling it out. their pained screams mixed along with yours as you rush to them. you held your hand over their chest as you desperately tried to stop the fatal bleeding. you screamed for help but no one came. by then, dion had left you and your child alone in the room. you didn't notice until it was too late. but you focused on your child, unable to do anything but be with them.

you kissed their forehead clumsily and held them so close to you, muttering the words of infinite love for them and that you are here. even as the blood gets on your nightgown and your exposed skin. you never left your child's side. your tears unshed but you refused to cry. you couldn't show that side to them in their last moments.

mama, your child whispered, coughing up some blood that you tried to wipe away, thank you for staying by my side. a lump made its way up to your throat and you couldn't help but let out an agonizing sob. please don't leave me, you thought as you intertwined their fingers with yours. and as you watched the light fade from your child's eyes and closed them for the last time, you were all alone.

it was your maid's voice who snapped you back to reality. for a moment, you had forgotten what had happened yesterday. but the vivid memories came back and you closed your eyes once again. you remembered your purpose in this second life. and you opened your eyes, clear with clarity. retribution for the pain you and your child were out through in this miserable house.

as you reached out to your maid, she gave you the drink that you needed and gulped it down. you will never put your child through that again. no child should ever go through that. ( you hoped that they were happier in their next life, though, with parents who loved and cherished them as parents should. )

as you stood up, you winced at the pain around your lower half and legs and had your maid steady you. you couldn't help but curse at dion for having such strength and stamina to mobilize you like this. you were still naked but you felt no shame for it was only you and your personal maid. you had noticed dion had left the bed long before you woke, as his side of the bed was cold. probably out on a mission or some sort.

besides, this was the perfect time for you to start on your agenda. it may take a while but it will be worth it. and no one should bother you today, right? wrong.

it was only after you finished taking a bath and were in the process of getting ready that the door swung open by a beautiful violet-eyed brunette. your blood ran cold at the sight of her you remembered her face with perfect detail. after all, she was partially responsible for the hardships she put you through.

oh dear, she's quite stunning, she proclaimed loudly, gazing at you as if you were some kind of animal, no wonder she took the first dance with that half brother instead of him. a shame i wasn't there to witness such a sight.

quickly, you bowed down to her, hoping she wouldn't see the anxiety written all over your face. last time you checked, she hadn't barged into your room like this after the wedding night. only an invitation was handed out by one of her maids...and the other tormenting memories associated with your mother-in-law.

you haven't even noticed that she was asking a question until your maid stepped in front of you and answered it. no! you snapped your head up and saw the maniac glint in her eyes as she snapped her fan in front of her. you won't let your maid have the same ending this time.

so you pushed her and yourself out of the way, a brief flash of pain on your cheek as turned your head the other way. you paid no mind to the surprised gasps from the maids and the concerned words of your maid. only that you stood up slowly until your back was straight and your gaze set as steel at the woman before you. her eyes gleamed with such madness and amusement, which had only fueled your determination even more.

i may have entered the black agriche yesterday, your voice is clear and strong unlike your thoughts, but i will not have the people here touch what are mine as they please.

perhaps in the future, you will scold yourself for being such an idiot and making this move, no less at your mother-in-law. but right now, you refuse to be a weak person who's unable to protect your loved ones. ( you couldn't protect your child back then. ) you will not let yourself act as you did before and accept the humiliation for you.

for a moment, you remembered that red-eyed woman's words. the promise of hell that awaits them all. that's right. it doesn't matter how you act anymore. you will be the one to drag them to hell in the end.

my, what a strong character, maria gushed as she took both of your hands with hers much to your shock, though no one can compare to my sierra, you would be just lovely!

and just like that, it disappeared as if she went on talking about her tea parties and meeting the family as she pulled you out of her bedroom. you couldn't help but let yourself be dragged by her, still surprised. well... this wasn't the way you expected this to go but you were able to overcome this.

as your destination grew closer, you could feel the anxiety knot in your stomach. oh, you could deal with her barging in your room but you didn't have time to prep yourself for the tea party. this wasn't going to end well.

the tea party will be much more exciting with you here, my dear, maria giggled as she motioned the servants to open the doors to the garden greenhouse. no, you thought to yourself, this is gonna be a disaster.

172 notes - Posted October 28, 2022

( the continuation... yeah i know ineed a better title. It's mainly unedited and turns out my dialogue needs a little work but i'm excited to improve on it for this series. i do plan to come back in the near future and actually work on it in more detail! so once again, take you for your kind words and encouragement to keep me writing more! )

as the wedding procession began and the rings were exchanged, he still had that rigid face and cold manners. he didn't even look at you. and it disgusted you that you fell in love with him in your past life. there was nothing left to redeem him. and it made it much easier for you.

so you played the dutiful bride during the vows, even as you briefly pecked his lips and looked at the cheerful crowd with a charming smile. you still had some dignity left. and you know dion didn't like what you did base on his subtle expressions.

and as the reception party was held, you could feel all eyes on you and dion. some of his family and yours, coming to congratulate and gush about how you both make such a perfect pair. they may smile now and throw around such pretty words but you knew very that in the end, it was they who contributed to your ending. how revolting, you thought smiling so sweetly as you silently took in their empty praises, i'll certainly look forward to their deaths.

in the corner of your eyes, you noticed the head of the agriche household striding arrogantly towards you and dion. your heart clenched as you remember the words of the patriarch when you begged him to save your son, who was all but dying in your arms. tsk, to think that you stepped into this household foolishly without knowing its rules, he lit up a cigarette with a scowl as you desperately tried to stop the bleeding wounds on your child's body, i could see why he took that woman into his bed. she'll be a better wife than you, giving birth to stronger children worthy of the name agriche than this pathetic excuse of a human.

you forced yourself out of those haunting memories and bowed down as lante stopped in front of you and your husband. he didn't even acknowledge you, not to your and anyone's surprise. with merely just a look shared between both men, they left for the other room and you couldn't help but let out a soft sigh of relief. you need to get used to it but it was rather suffocating in their presence. distinctly, you could the music begin to play.

if you remembered the events correctly, lante was to leave right after his talk with dion. however dion also left you alone without a word to you, leaving you to handle a crowd of hungry predators wanting to devour scandalous gossip.

and if that's what they wanted, you eyed as one of dion's older brothers made his way toward you, you should deliver it well. unlike your last wedding, you will not let yourself be forgotten. you will not be know as dion's neglected wife. let them remember your name since it will be you who will drag them to hell.

you accepted the first dance from his nameless easily forgettable brother, as you took his hand. if it wasn't before, now all eyes are on you. after all, you just ignored the tradition of the husband and wife's first dance by dancing with his brother instead. and it seems the male in front of you also had his agenda as he smirked cockily behind you.

you don't have to turn around to know who it was. especially when it felt like your back was being burned through. hm, you were sure he left around this time, you were puzzled by a certain change, but still, you took advantage of it as you smiled oh so innocently at him as you were twirled around.

it's your fault, husband, you subtly pushed yourself closer to his brother, i'm just returning you the favor. in the past, you loathed the whispers around you. but now, it felt like angels harmonizing beautifully. it's still aimed at you but now you could hear dion's name being dragged out right behind yours. whether it was about another rival in the family or the way he left his wife temporarily only to be snatched up, he'll have to deal with this himself.

and you know dion was certainly fuming internally. he expected a wife who would listen to him and never create a fuss. but you'll never be like that girl again.

finally, the song finished to your relief. just as you were about to leave, your dance partner dared to bring your hand onto his lips. great, now you were gonna have to take an extra long bath after this, you groaned internally, who let men have the audacity to do this? and it happened all too quickly.

the sound of a sword being unsheathed next to you, the blood staining your hands and your wedding dress, and a head rolling away somewhere. distantly, you could hear the guest's fearful screams and someone throwing up the contents of their stomach. it was chaos all around you and yet, you couldn't move an inch. your eyes still staring at the spot your dance partner formerly stood. and now there was merely a headless body.

and the very same man who had just sliced off the head cleanly had only calmly walked over the body, just in front of you. you couldn't look at him as fear forced your body to stay still.

my wife, dion placed his first two fingers on your chin so that you may look up to him. yet even then, you refused to as you looked past his shoulder. your eyes on the ceiling with such an empty gaze, refusing to satisfy him. let this be a warning of the consequences if you keep continuing these sorts of actions.

his words only added gasoline to the burning flames for hatred and revenge.

264 notes - Posted October 14, 2022

credits to @d10nsaint ( literally. she's so creative and will not hesitate to slam you down your problematic faves in front of you <333 )

imagine being dion's wife, loving him even though you know it was hopeless to wish, but in such a lonely household where anyone and everyone can become enemies within seconds you have no choice but to rely on him. as long as he was loyal to you, you gave him your love and utter devotion. even after you had a child with him, it just doubled even more. it was proof that he cared for you to some extent, your optimism explained. he must've loved you in his way and this was his proof. he wasn't raised in a good environment, you noted, but you can help him. if you showed him love, then perhaps he can be healed and love you back.

until that night. you were waiting for him as any obedient wife would. dressed in a robe with nothing underneath. perhaps it's time to give your child another sibling, you couldn't help but think this morning. but the moment he arrived you could see the disheveled clothes, the messy hair, and the way he walked. and oh suddenly you could smell that strange scent on him, no...it was perfume. so strong you couldn't help but cringe. and why...why was there a colored smudge around his neck? his pale lips seem to be redder than before. and that jewel hanging off from his lapel...as of it was taunting you.

you know it deep in your heart but you refused to believe it. you just couldn't and you demanded an explanation of where he was hours ago. but when his crimson eyes stared at you, no...glared at you. so intense, perhaps the most emotion you seen him displayed. so you shut your mouth quickly and headed to bed.

and soon what you thought would be a one-night thing slowly became an every night thing. and everyone knew it. they knew of his mistress especially when he bought her there. and gods, it was utterly humiliating and you became the mockery of the very household. it was breaking you, tearing you down but you were so sure he loved you. so you kept your head high, for your child ( who looked exactly like dion ), and did your best to keep your dwindling reputation up.

till you couldn't. seeing your beloved child die in their father's hands because they were unable to pass the special exam took a toll on your health and you were so very weak. because how could he? how could he do this to his child? you? to their family?

finally, seeing the mistress and dion in your shared bedroom, committing the deed had done it. you grabbed dion's blade and held it against your throat, screaming why didn't he love you? what did you lack? how could he betray you like this? but with his expresionless face, coldly replying that you shouldn't make a scene since you were gonna die anyway. and that last sanity broke loose. you were truly an idiot who could only look through rose tinted glasses. it had already been over, you thought as you slit your lovely throat and swore to never love him again...

so imagine the shock and utter disbelief when you woke up in your family home. and it wasn't any normal day. it was the day your fate was sealed. the day you wed to dion agriche. a part of you wanted to run and never look back. but your child's pleas and crying were still fresh in your memory. your pain and suffering all because of that wretched man. as your maids prepped you up in your luxurious wedding gown, you knew there was only one option you could choose.

you will exact your revenge on dion agriche and bring down that damn household.

( might make a part two?? depends since there's so many routes this can go to! )

441 notes - Posted October 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Um, hellooo! I saw you up requests and I wanted to give a try but feel free to reject this. May I ask for a reader who isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother long before roxana was born. The reader mother is a nanny(do they allow that?? idk) of lante when he was younger so reader and him sorta grew up together. And then when he became the head, he had the reader became his kids nanny/caretaker and as one of his righthand. Pls and ty!

ᴍᴇᴇɴᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇs : hiii darling! no clue what lante's background was other than he overruled his father so this is my speculation of it. i may or may have not gotten carried away by the reader's backstory that i may or may have not create another post for it 👀 also this somehow became an alternate universe somewhere around the end oops -

part two is here

𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐊𝐀𝐈'𝐃!𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

❥ so you isekai'd in the way to protect the female lead's older brother's world long before the story started? congratulations! and you even became the daughter of the female lead's father nanny? good luck trying to survive.

❥ somehow, you managed to survive up to your late twenties as LANTE AGRICHE trusted servant and closest confidante. which was shocking, to say the least. but you know deep down, he held some sort of genuine affection for your mother since his mother passed away.

❥ and you two had grown up together despite being in different worlds from each other. even after your mother's death, he kept you around as he killed his father and took the position of the head of agriche. even as he changed for the worse, you remained by his side.

❥ whether it was out of obligation or sincerity, you no longer knew why you stayed beside him. but you know why he wanted you. after all, your mother made her mark on him and so did you. people found it odd that he didn't try to marry you just to keep you by his side since it was more effective. but you both knew better than that.

❥ it was the consequences of your actions, you thought to yourself, as he burned your marriage requests in the fireplace. anything that allowed relationships beyond his family, his household, and especially himself was an absolute no. but that's fine. who needs friendship and love anyway?

❥ besides, as he began to collect his wives and mistresses ( much to your disdain ), you knew the story was gonna start soon. and despite knowing the end for this household, you still wanted to change a few things. and what better way to start as lante made you the official nanny of his children.

❥ FONTAINE was an eight-year-old child when you first met him. to make his father proud. at first, he wasn't quite fond of you as you took most of his father's time but eventually, he liked the maternal affection you gave to him. he felt entitled to have your time. in return, you made sure he kept at least some of his morals growing up. you unfortunately weren't able to stop the rebelliousness growing in him and could only hope he would make wise decisions. ( yes, you made sure to tell him the deficits of incestuous relationships and frightened him enough that he would see his female siblings as competition which is progress at least. )

❥ GRIZELDA was only a toddler when she first approached you about a book you were reading during your time off. you knew she was the only agriche to have magic so the pressure on her was high. when all was against her, you were right by her side to hold her steady. that and you two had bonded over books together. as she was young, it was you who tucked her into bed and told her stories and tales you knew from your past life and current. even as she grew older, she loved hearing interesting stories that came from you. you always made time for her even when you were busy with taking care of lante's work and the children. always reminding you to take care of yourself as well.

❥ ASHIL was only a year old when you met him. sierra was a wonderful and sane woman so you often visited her. ashil reminded you of a golden retriever and you became fond of him instantly. he always asked for your help and was ready to help you if you had any problems. the day you knew ashil failed the exam, you beg to lante to give spare ashil so you may take him as your own. because of your shared past, he reluctantly did so. it was the only way for him to live safely even if it meant taking him from his mother and sister. though the mother-sister duo thanked you profusely. especially as ashil pledged to protect you along with those he considered as his family. even as he grew stronger and older, he kept true to himself.

❥ DION was also a baby when you first carried him in your arms after maria's birth. while she complained about the baby's looks and disappointment, you saw another baby to love and cherish. lante and maria's parenting only got worse so you took matters in your hands and had him stay with you and ashil. he was quite a curious and mischievous boy, always finding trouble to drag his older brother with him. luckily, ashil had infinite patience as an elder sibling and always pulled back dion when necessary. it was also rather cute to see dion and roxana fight over who gets more ashil and your time. the older dion grew, he began to resemble more of his father which worried you. but when he smiled that playful smile at you and his close siblings, the anxiety vanished as you returned the smile.

❥ ROXANA was unsure about you when she first saw you. she hadn't remembered you being mentioned in the novel along with the evident changes. you were an unpredictable variable so she was cautious around you. it took some time but after saving ashil, she viewed you as an angel descended from the heavens to protect them. and she let you into her small circle and her heart. eventually, you told her of your past life which shocked her. so that explains everything! but she felt the comfort of another person in her situation just as she did and swore to protect you as well. despite your warnings, she still went ahead with the butterfly project knowing it could shorten her life. so you made sure to take care of her despite her pouts to relieve your, ashil, and sierra's worries. and cassis came along as the story unfold, he could see how important you were to the children of agriche. you liked to tease roxana and him often after he escaped.

❥ JEREMY was clingy and touch-starved when he first met you as a young child. he had just returned from his brutal class with a harsh wound, unable to hold back his whimpers. you found him there and gathered him into your arms to your room so that you could heal his wounds. his mother didn't even see and he watched her commit suicide with his own eyes as she refused to interact with him. since then, he has been attached to you by the hip. you were his mother. that was what he called you, openly especially since the others addressed you as either aunty or nanny. you were one of the few people who could stop jeremy from his violent tendencies with a word or a touch. he didn't want to scare his mother after all.

❥ CHARLOTTE was easily attached to you as she had a rocky relationship with her mother. you were more of her mother than her mother and she loved it when you praised her. it was a competition again between her and jeremy which gave you enough headaches as you recalled the rivalry between dion and roxana before. history had a way of repeating itself. still, like jeremy, you had a way of calming her down. with her hothead and brash personality, you helped her try to control it so she wouldn't get into any more trouble with lante and her mother. she loves it especially when you call her by her nickname 'lotte' since it was her first nickname she received.

❥ though all the agriche kids were raised as they were, you became their moral support and someone they genuinely care for. it was you who put yourself between lante and themselves when they were punished. and if you couldn't stop it, you always attended to their wounds and stayed with them for the night, as they rest on the couch. how could they not love you?

❥ even lante couldn't do anything as he found it a good reason to keep you in the agriche mansion. which was his biggest mistake. even as his top children began to plot against their father, you also went along with it as their spy. after all, lante was no longer the boy you grew up with and you had to open up your eyes. and if he had to be disposed off so that you could protect the children, so be it.

❥ after the night the agriche household fell, it was you placed the final blow on lante. and you had to witness fontaine demise from cassis's sword, though some small part of you mourned for that eight year old boy you knew long ago. and as roxana's health declined, you sent her to cassis in hopes that there was a possibility she could be healed.

❥ you were named as the matriarch of the black agriche, a title placed by the children you cared for. and quickly enough due to your past experience as lante trusted associate, you began to help raise the agriche from the ground and to a hopeful and brighter future. so you decided to burn agriche mansion to the ground and make it a new and better mansion.

❥ for a future where your children could make better memories in the new home you created for them. even as some of them stayed by your side or went on traveling around, you always made sure that they would have a home to come back to. but to them, you were their home. you accepted all of them as they are and cherished you for it. they would burn the world down if you asked them to.

448 notes - Posted November 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #..wow #i knew memento mori series was popular but the nanny!reader was much more popular than i expected...

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susansontag · 2 years

Text

With each progressive retelling, the hundreds became thousands, the thousands tended towards infinity, and the lice multiplied, becoming settlements and then townships and then cities and then nations. In my mother’s version of the story, these lice caused traffic disturbances on my hair, they took evening walks on my slender neck, they had civil war over territory, they recruited an enormous number of overenthusiastic child soldiers and then they engaged in out-and-out war with my mother. They mounted organized resistance, set up base camps in the soft area of the scalp above the ears and in the nape of the neck where it was always harder to reach, but they were being decimated slowly and surely by my mother’s indefatigable efforts. Every war strategy was deployed, Sun Tzu was invoked: appear weak when you are strong and appear strong when you are weak; when your opponent is of choleric temper, seek to irritate him with more chlorinated washes than he can handle; attack him when he is unprepared; force your enemy to reveal himself; be as rapid as the wind when you are wielding the paenseeppu (the merciless narrow-toothed lice comb that removed as many hairs as it removed lice and lice eggs and baby lice); make use of the sun and the strongest shampoo; above all, do not spend time bothering about lice rights and genocide tribunals when you are defending a liberated zone.

This is how my story of Young Woman as a Runaway Daughter became, in effect, the great battle of My Mother versus the Head Lice. And because my mother won this battle, the story was told endlessly, and it soon entered the canon of literature on domestic violence. The Americans had trigger warnings and graphic-content cautions attached to the course material, but otherwise it picked up a lot of traction elsewhere. It was taught in gender studies programmes, and women of colour discussed it in their reading groups (it was still a little too dirty and disorienting for white feminists, and it was perhaps considered a touch too environmentally unfriendly for the ecofeminists, and the postmodernists disregarded it because my mother’s telling ignored the crucial concept of my husband’s agency to beat me), and even those who forgot the original context of the story or the bad-marriage setting always remembered it as a fable about one mother’s unending, unconditional, over-conditioned love.

— Meena Kandasamy, When I Hit You

#what I'm reading #meena kandasamy #quote #moth.txt

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aboutanancientenquiry · 11 months

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Meena Kumari in “Chalte chalte yunhi koi” (“Pakeezah”, 1972)

youtube

Meena Kumari (1933-1972), one of the greatest Indian actresses of the last century, in an iconic scene and song from the classic Indian movie Pakeezah (The Pure One-1972, written, directed, and produced by Kamal Amrohi).

Meena Kumari plays in this movie Sahibjaan, a tawaif. The tawaifs were courtesans who catered to the nobility of the Indian Subcontinent in the Mughal and post-Mughal eras and were trained in music, danse, theater, and Urdu literature. An orphan, Sahibjaan lives since her childhood in a kotha (brothel), but she wants to escape from her fate.

According to the website of the University of Iowa ( https://indiancinema.sites.uiowa.edu/pakeezah ):

““I’ve seen your feet; they’re very lovely. Don’t set them down on the earth—they’ll get soiled.” This metaphorical warning-note, penned by a romantic stranger and left between the toes of a sleeping woman in a railway compartment, forms a much-underscored motif in this classic courtesan film—the final collaboration between the great actress and dancer Meena Kumari and her former husband, actor and director Kamal Amrohi. Like MOTHER INDIA, this film coexists with its own legend involving the offscreen lives of the director and star, who planned it together in the late 1950s but whose marriage broke up around the time that filming began in 1964. Kumari (who was also a talented Urdu poet under the pen name Naaz) then purportedly became an alcoholic, but eventually came back to complete the film shortly before her premature death in 1972; aficionados may try their luck at identifying—from Kumari’s pained and sometimes mask-like face—which scenes were shot when. The central theme of the film is the struggle for respectability of a tawai’if, an Indo-Islamic courtesan trained in poetry, music, and dance—a glamorous “public woman” whose career was to be an elegant companion (and potential lover) to affluent men, but for whom a “respectable” marriage and home was out of the question. Her beautiful feet—apart from being an erotic fetish—represent her mastery of the art of North Indian classical dance or Kathak, which tawai’if’s preserved and nurtured for several centuries. The “earth” that such feet must perforce touch, however, is ruled by patriarchal society with its crippling double-standards, which decreed that respectable women (who lived in parda or seclusion) could seldom be interesting to men, and that interesting women were seldom respectable. All courtesan fiction struggles with this divide, which forms a principal theme of one of the earliest and most famous Urdu novels, Mirza Mohammed Hadi Ruswa’s UMRAO JAN ADA (1905; itself later filmed several times; see notes on UMRAO JAAN). PAKEEZAH offers another variation on the theme.”

See also about Pakeezah the paper of Richard Allen and Ira Brashkar Pakeezah: Dreamscape of Desire, on https://www.academia.edu/36264030/Pakeezah_Dreamscape_of_Desire

In the iconic scene of this video Sahibjaan/Meena Kumari sings and dances for the “villain” of the movie, an aristocrat (Nawab) named Zafar Ali Khan (played by Kamal Kapoor), who wishes to own her. The ambiguities and dynamics of the situation and of the relationship between the two are depicted in excellent way in this scene, which takes place at the Gulabi Mahal (Pink Palace) of Luchnow. According to the paper of Allen and Brashkar:

“The Gulabi Mahal (the Pink Palace) at Lucknow evokes a more rarified atmosphere. In Amrohi’s imagination, the space of the kotha is here fused with the idea of a Greek temple where the central colonnaded performance space doubles as a space of worship to the divine feminine, and discrete spaces are orchestrated in a theatrical hierarchy from the outer court with its fountains at the entrance to the inner sanctum sanctorum, which houses the bedroom of the courtesan, essentially off limits to all but the chosen client, and separated from the main performance space by a lighted causeway between reflecting pools of water.The Pink Palace is a sublime temple of femininity, whose fountains, atriums, reflecting pools form a microcosm of artifice that rivals that of the natural world. Indeed, even the moon appears artful in this landscape and the saturated deep blue sky, a studied backcloth to the whole.”

But, as the same article continues a bit further, the Pink Palace is also a prison for Sahibjaan:

“Meanwhile, for Sahibjaan whose desire for self-fulfillment has been awakened, the Pink Palace becomes a prison. In a metaphor that recurs in the film, and echoes throughout the genre, she is likened to a bird in a gilded cage from which she yearns to escape...

...The quality and texture of her performances for him [the Nawab] are now markedly different from her earlier ones. Gone is the vivacity and vibrancy of an Inhin logon ne or a Thade rahiyo as she mournfully sings the haunting Chalte Chalte, which articulates her desire for freedom and happiness.Yet it also returns us to the pathos of her entrapment in a manner that evokes the equation of the courtesan and the flickering flame that opens the film. At the conclusion of the performance, as she sings Yeh chiraag bujh rahein hain / Mere saath jalte jalte (These lamps are fading / As they burn with me), she hears the screech of a train whistle. It is impossible initially to discern whether it is somewhere physically off-screen or within her mind.The camera cranes upward from the floor to the red chandelier, recalling the red aalta of her feet.The lights darken as the escalating screech of the train whistle resounds through the performance space, taking over the song and abruptly bringing the dance to an end. When the camera cranes down again, the dancers have disappeared from the floor.The camera then tracks forward towards the fountains that abruptly stop playing as the whistling ends. It is as if the space in which she dwells, her erstwhile tomb, is now cut to the measure of her desire. She rushes to the balcony to see the train she has seen before, but this time it is motionless, silhouetted against the sky, almost as if waiting for her to come to her balcony before it can leave.Though real, the train appears as if in a vision, so detached is the spectacle from the space she inhabits.What is finally required for Sahibjaan to escape her sealed world is a transformation of environment and character of a magnitude that challenges the tone in which the film has hitherto been cast.”

The lyrics of Chalte chalte yuhni koi were written by the Urdu poet Kaifi Azmi (1919-2002) and its music was composed years before the release of Pakeezah by Ghulam Mohammed (1903-1968). Although Meena Kumari was also a singer, the voice in the song is of the great Indian singer Lata Mangeshkar (1929-2022).

Unfortunately I couldn’t do anything with the advertisements at the end of the video.

I have found on the net the following transliteration and translation of the lyrics of Chalte chalte yuhni koi:

Chalte chalte, chalte chalte While walking, while walking

Yun hi koi mil gaya tha I met someone by chance

Sare raah chalte chalte Walking around the path

Wahin thamke reh gayi hai Right there it stood still

Meri raat dhalte dhalte This night of mine, which is fading away

Joh kahi gayi na mujhse What I was unable to say

Woh zamaana keh raha hai The world is saying that

Ke fasana A story

Ke fasana ban gayi hai A story has been created

Meri baat chalte chalte From those words of mine

Yun hi koi mil gaya tha I met someone by chance

Sare raah chalte chalte Walking around the path

Yun hi koi mil gaya tha I met someone by chance

Sare raah Around the path

Chalte chalte, chalte chalte While walking, while walking

Sare raah Around the path

Chalte chalte, chalte chalte While walking, while walking

Yun hi koi mil gaya tha I met someone by chance

Shab-e-intezaar aakhir The night of waiting

Kabhi hogi mukhtasar bhi Will after all shorten soon

Yeh chirag These lamps

Yeh chirag bujh rahe hai These lamps are dying

Mere saath jalte jalte As they burn alongside me

Yeh chirag bujh rahe hai These lamps are dying

Mere saath jalte jalte As they burn alongside me

Yun hi koi mil gaya tha I met someone by chance

Sare raah chalte chalte Walking around the path

#pakeezah #meena kumari #indian cinema #lata mangeshkar #kamal amrohi

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lunarcovehq · 11 months

Text

Meena Raja is a vampire that currently resides in Celestial Hills and has been a Lunar Cove resident for 211 years but she’s been wanting her husband to drop dead for far longer than that.

ITS THE END OF THE WORLD

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Cis Woman, She/Her

DATE OF BIRTH: February 15, 1787

OCCUPATION: Mayor & Head of the Country Club

FACECLAIM: Simone Ashley

AS WE KNOW IT, AND I FEEL FINE

SPECIES: Vampire

CLAN POSITION: Leader

AGE AT TRANSFORMATION: 28

WELCOME TO LUNAR COVE, MEENA SURYA RAJA

Trigger Warnings: Classism, Implications of Racism, Blood, Violence, Murder

Try as Meena might, but ever since she was a little girl, it seemed nearly impossible not to feel as if she was an imposter in her own skin. She barely had any recollection of her birth father, but the first thing she ever remembered being told was how she was the spitting image of him. She had his overly expressive eyes, the same slight up tilt of a smile and they both possessed an infectious laugh that was practically physical. Their shoulders would shake as they both would toss back their heads and an almost musical sense of mirth would flow out of them. Apparently, that’s how he had been when she had been born. The embodiment of happiness during the Thottil ceremony when they chose her name, reciting it three times each and drawing it out on a platter of rice. He was a self-made man who had worked his way up to being one of the wealthiest men in England and, although the Rajas were guests to all of the most exclusive social gatherings among the ton, it was hard not to notice, when sat shoulder to shoulder in aristocratic ballrooms, that their lack of title made them albeit undesirably ones.

And, as if the occasionally ill-mannered comment or roll of the eyes didn’t get the point across, the way Meena had spent her first two seasons, back pressed up against the wall in the corner of the room did. But, while the other wallflowers fidgeted back and forth on their heels, their eyes glued to the empty dance cards in hand- Meena had other plans. She knew what the rest of the ton thought of her and she knew that her prospects of marriage were slim to none. Something that bothered her during her first entrance into society, but with the recent passing of her father, her later spinsterhood and, with a great sum of fortune now falling into that her and her mother’s laps, she was fairly set on the idea, much to her mother’s dismay, of separating herself from the ton in its entirety.

They might not accept her as one of them, but there had been a boy out there who had. Having worked down at one of the most exclusive gambling houses in the city, Sébastien had hardly been the type of man a young witch, such as herself, should be consorting with and, yet, she couldn’t help, but pass him glances whenever she caught his gaze or lose her chaperon in the crowd during a trip to the Pleasure Gardens, a popular amusement park at the time in which men and women from all social statuses who could afford entry could meet. She had been, naively so, entirely too infatuated with him and she learned her lesson in the end.

It should have been a night like any other. Meena had finally managed to sneak away from the crowd she had come with, all too thankful for the unlit dark walk to their typical meeting spot, only for her blood to run cold the moment she turned the corner. The man she had thought she had been falling in love with was bleeding out before her on the ground with a familiar face standing above him. One belonging to a Theodore Moore, the son of a duke and notorious rake who was rumored to in debt to over half of London with no way to pay those he had borrowed from back and was apparently... a vampire? His fangs on full display as he eyed her cautiously, taking a step back from the other’s body as he tried to explain himself. To say his explanation went in through one ear and out the other, was putting it lightly, but from what Meena had picked up from Theodore’s hastened words and the weapons she found on Sébastien as she applied pressure to the wound Theo had torn into Sébastien's neck- the man she had been courting had been a hunter. He had been tracking Teddy for quite some time and likely had been tracking her. The news was quite a lot to process and she assumed she probably would, process it all, at a later date, but in the moment all she could think about was saving him and, so she asked Teddy nicely, to which he scoffed in reply rightfully so. The man bleeding out on her lap was on the brink of death and why should he help him anyway or her for that matter? If she even dared to tell anyone what had happened there or what he was, he could ruin her in a matter of seconds. Only, the clever witch that she was proposed a deal she knew the vampire wouldn’t be able to refuse.

He was a man of title in desperate need of a fortune. A fortune she herself could provide. They could help each other, if only he helped her first. It was tempting of an offer enough, but Theo wasn’t inclined to heal a hunter and send them on their merry way to kill again, so instead he offered to turn the poor sap instead. That way the man Meena was so desperate to save would live on while he’d get the satisfaction of watching the human whom had tried to kill him be forced to live as the species they hated most. It seemed like a fair addendum to him and, although Meena knew in her gut that Sébastien would prefer to die that day, she made the deal.

The next thing she knew, she was getting engaged. The marriage between her and Theodore was a marriage of convenience. But, it made her mother happy at least, to see her daughter finally paired off in this world, and, a year later, the vampire that was her husband finally fulfilled the last end of the bargain they had made that day. He reluctantly turned her as he said he would. She had insisted upon it, although she had wanted a few more years of being a witch before he did. But, she’d be damned if she died as a mortal and let him live on with her father’s fortune and her inheritance. No. If Sébastien and him would live forever, she would too, even if it was primarily out of spite.

And the next couple centuries continued on just like that. Her and Sébastien kept their distance, his resentment apparent at the choice she had made for his life. While she traveled across the sea to meet up with Theodore and started to dominate the social scene. Her husband vying for the role of Clan Leader while she took on the role of his Second in Command, enjoying the luxuries her new life brought her while also feeling relegated into the shadows of the man she stood beside. While he helped form the first safe haven for their kind, she felt like nothing more than a pretty face linked on his arm. Theo was charismatic and confident with an almost addictive wit that couldn’t help, but pull you in. It was no wonder the clan members looked up to him. But, with his charm and what seemed on the outside as endearing confidence, came a cocky bluntness as he denounced her advice at each turn. He’d rather seek comfort from other women in his bed than that of his wife and, although she knew it shouldn’t bother her- it wasn’t as if she didn’t have a handful of lovers of her own, she felt herself loosing any semblance of the identity she once held. Sure, she was probably the most talented Siphoner of the group, curtesy of her witch origins, but other than that, she found herself beginning to question if she truly had anything to offer besides her captivating looks and hefty credit card?

That was until her life got flipped upside once more. In March of 2022, Meena awoke in the dead of night to find a severed heart left in a box on her front stoop and, from the agonizing pain she felt in her chest, it didn’t take long to deduce whom it belonged to- her sire and once husband. She should have been devastated and that wasn’t to say that she didn’t feel his loss. After all, Teddy had been one of the few people still in her life who remembered her back when she had been mortal. They may have fallen into each other’s lives out of circumstance and financial gain and she may have wanted to kill him, as she imagined he probably had her on a daily basis, given the amount of time they spent bickered, but they had, in their own weird twisted way, grown to love each other. But, she didn’t grieve the way she probably should have.

Instead, she decided to take a chapter out of Teddy’s own playbook and honor him by using his death to her advantage. She was still his second in command, which meant that now she was in charge. It was her Clan for the taking and it was her chance to get the spark she once had back. She may still have doubts about her capabilities to fill the man before her’s shoes, but that didn’t stop her from taking his place nor did it stop her from putting together a quick-turn campaign to run for Mayor after the old guy in charge bite the dust. Meena may be in over her head, but no one can deny that the magnetic new mayor and clan leader is determined.

#simone ashley #taken vampire #council member #all #clan member #celestial hills #meena raja #lunar cove country club #town hall #mayor #clan leader #head of country club

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