#she likes exploring and embroidery

[queen-scribbles]

Diiiiiiid I mention I made a River Hobbit Lore-Master? :D

Her name's Rhianlin(Rhia, for short), I'm trying out yellow line with her, since Ziin is blue and Hal is red, and it's her mission in life to get Meneldir to crack one (1) genuine smile.

[vanarobot]

Monster Girl March 02: Turning “Seeing such frail creatures down into the depths always got her gears turning“

[br0kenangel]

𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐘: 𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘰𝘣𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘪𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧.

The Red Keep was a place of beauty, grandeur, and luxury—a place where everything was meant to be perfect, from the tapestries on the walls to the gowns worn by the ladies of the court. It was a place where you, the embodiment of elegance and grace, thrived. You were known as the beauty, a title you wore like a crown, and you made sure that your appearance reflected nothing less than perfection.

But as of late, there had been something—or rather, someone—who had been disturbing that sense of perfection. That someone was your little brother, Aegon, a child who, in your eyes, was the complete opposite of everything you held dear.

It wasn’t just that he was a child—though that was annoying enough on its own. No, what truly disturbed you was the state he always seemed to be in. His hair was a mess of tangled silver curls, his clothes always dirty, wrinkled, and utterly soulless. You couldn’t understand how anyone could allow a prince—your future husband—to look so… disgusting.

The thought made your skin crawl.

You had tried to ignore it, hoping that someone—anyone—would take the initiative to correct the problem. But no one did. And so, after seeing him one too many times running around the gardens, covered in dirt and wearing those horrid little tunics, you decided you had had enough.

You stormed through the halls of the Red Keep, your gown billowing behind you as you made your way to Queen Alicent’s chambers. When you arrived, you didn’t even bother to wait for the guards to announce you. You pushed open the door and stepped inside, your expression a mixture of determination and disgust.

Alicent looked up from her embroidery, startled by your sudden entrance. “Y/N,” she said, a hint of surprise in her voice. “Is something the matter?”

You didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Yes, there is,” you replied, your tone sharp. “It’s about Aegon.”

Alicent’s brow furrowed. “Is he alright?”

“Physically, yes,” you answered, your words clipped. “But his appearance is another matter entirely. He’s always dirty, his clothes are atrocious, and his hair looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in days. Frankly, it’s an embarrassment. He’s a prince, not some common street urchin.”

“He’s just a child,” she said gently. “Children get dirty; they play, they explore—”

“I don’t care,” you cut her off, your voice firm. “If I am to be his wife, then I refuse to be associated with someone who looks like that. If you cannot ensure that he is properly taken care of, then I will do it myself.”

The queen looked taken aback by your words, but after a moment, she sighed and nodded. “Very well,” she said quietly. “If that is what you wish, then I won’t stand in your way.”

You didn’t respond to that. Instead, you gave a curt nod and turned on your heel, leaving the chamber as swiftly as you had entered. Your mind was already working on the changes you would make—starting with getting rid of every single one of those dreadful tunics he wore.

You found Aegon in the gardens, as expected. He was playing in the dirt again, his little hands caked with mud as he babbled happily to himself. The sight made you grimace in disgust. How could anyone let a prince get so filthy?

“Aegon!” you called sharply, making him look up in surprise.

He beamed when he saw you, his face lighting up with that innocent joy that only a child could muster. “Y/N!” he exclaimed, starting to run toward you, his arms outstretched.

“Stop right there,” you ordered, holding up a hand to halt him in his tracks. “Don’t touch me with those dirty hands.”

Aegon’s face fell, his little smile fading as he looked down at his mud-covered fingers. He seemed confused, hurt even, but you didn’t let it sway you. You had a job to do.

“Come with me,” you commanded, your tone leaving no room for argument. “We’re going to get you cleaned up.”

Aegon followed you obediently, though he kept a small distance, as if he was unsure whether he was in trouble or not. You led him back inside, where you summoned a group of maids and ordered them to take him away for a proper bath.

“Make sure he’s thoroughly cleaned,” you instructed them, your tone cold and precise. “I want him spotless.”

The maids nodded and took Aegon away, leaving you alone to begin your next task. You made your way to his chambers, where you ordered all of his old clothes to be removed and replaced with the finest silks and velvets. You personally oversaw the selection, choosing only the best fabrics, the richest colors, and the most elegant designs.

By the time Aegon was brought to you, freshly bathed and dressed in a simple but luxurious robe, you were ready for the next step. You had already laid out a few options for his new wardrobe and were just finishing your final selections when the maids brought him into the room.

Aegon looked at you with wide, curious eyes, his freshly washed hair falling in soft curls around his face. He looked much better already, but there was still work to be done.

“Come here,” you said, gesturing for him to sit on the stool in front of you.

He hesitated for a moment, but then obeyed, climbing up onto the stool and sitting as still as he could. You picked up a brush and began to work on his hair, frowning as you encountered knot after knot. Aegon winced, letting out small whimpers of pain as the brush tugged at his tangled curls.

“Stay still,” you ordered, your voice firm but not unkind. “A prince must be strong and brave. He cannot cry over something as simple as having his hair brushed.”

Aegon bit his lip, trying his best to remain silent as you continued to work on his hair. It took longer than you anticipated, but eventually, his curls were smooth and glossy, falling neatly around his face.

You set the brush aside and took a step back, admiring your work. He looked much better now—clean, well-dressed, and presentable. A proper little prince.

“There,” you said, satisfied. “That’s much better.”

Aegon looked up at you with wide eyes, still unsure of what to make of all this. “Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice small, “you mad at Aegon?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “No, Aegon,” you replied, your tone softening slightly. “I’m not mad. I just want you to look your best. You’re going to be my husband one day, and I can’t have you running around looking like… like that.” You gestured vaguely to the memory of his earlier state.

Aegon stared at you for a moment, then suddenly reached out and hugged you, his little arms wrapping around your waist. “love you, wifey,” he mumbled against your gown, his voice muffled but sincere.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat at his words. “I-I told you not to call me that.” you stammered, your usual composure slipping for a moment.

“Wifey,” Aegon repeated, looking up at you with those big violet eyes, full of trust and affection.

You didn’t know how to respond to that. Part of you wanted to correct him, to tell him that he shouldn’t call you that until you were actually married. But another part of you—one you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge—found it oddly endearing.

Instead of saying anything, you let out a small sigh and gently lifted him into your arms, carrying him over to the bed. “Alright,” you said softly, trying to keep the affection out of your voice. “It’s time for bed.”

You dressed him in a pair of soft, silky nightclothes that you had selected earlier, making sure they were comfortable and warm. Then you tucked him into the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

Aegon reached out for you as you moved to leave, his small hand grabbing onto your sleeve. “Wifey, stay with Aegon,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep. “Please?”

You hesitated for a moment, then sighed and climbed into the bed beside him. You let him snuggle close, his little body warm against yours as he rested his head on your shoulder.

As you lay there, listening to his soft, even breaths, you found yourself humming a lullaby, the tune soft and soothing in the quiet of the room. Aegon’s grip on your sleeve relaxed as he drifted off to sleep, his face peaceful and content.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to simply enjoy the quiet, the warmth of his small body curled up against yours. It wasn’t something you had ever imagined doing—caring for a child, even if that child was your future husband—but as you watched him sleep, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of contentment.

“I just want the best for you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you brushed a strand of silver hair from his forehead.

Aegon mumbled something in his sleep, his little hand grasping for yours. You hesitated before allowing your fingers to gently intertwine with his. The softness of his small hand in yours was surprisingly comforting, though you would never admit it aloud.

Part 1 ♡ Part 2 ♡ Part 3 ♡ Part 4 ♡ Part 6

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[shortnotsweet]

This technically applies to my Stepmother AU in which Alicent is around six years older than Rhaenyra, and occupies a wicked stepmother role as opposed to ex ‘friends-to-first loves-to-enemies’. Despite lacking the foundation of shared girlhood, both find simultaneous comfort and rivalry in one another, and undergo a gravitational pull. A young Rhaenyra’s eagerness to participate in swordplay and political affairs at a young is accommodated for, and she grows up with a sword in one hand and the weight of experience in another, which further helps pave her way to the throne.

Alicent’s Costuming

Alicent’s clothing is almost entirely bottle, emerald, or forest green. While there is layering present in her skirts and jackets, the accent should always be a darker green than the base color. The fabric is deep, rich, and retains an undeniably high-quality luster. Look to velvets and silks. Gold embroidery lingers around her sleeves, neck, and hemline to elevate the coloring.

Metallic embellishments should be almost military-like, and appear heavy. Contribute to the imagery of chains or shackles in addition to her status

Draws inspiration from historically accurate stiffness and Victorian shapes, with a tapered waist, imposing, puffy sleeves, and a high neckline. Despite inaccuracies, this shape is evocative of someone elegantly and conservatively feminine, repressed, and capable of exerting power over others. Reference a classic, trussed hourglass shape. Skirts should be notably heavy and full; may make noise in movement

The coloring and shapes remain relatively consistent but lack variation; this is to demonstrate a lack of freedom and exploration, as well as an adherence to conventional feminine roles

Despite these limitations, her costuming should always be put-together, coordinated, and unquestionably fashionable. Tight sleeve cuffs may be accompanied by a more traditionally medieval fan sleeve

Shoes should stick mostly to slippers, or flat designs

In this AU, her hair leans more towards a dark brown instead of auburn, as her show counterpart. This is mostly due to faux-book accuracy and to simplify the sketch process, since keeping her hair darker in comparison to Rhaenyra’s lighter hair translates more easily in uncolored renderings.

Keep her hair either in a tidy bun or pulled back and loose; avoid too many intricate shapes, braids, or styles. Occasionally, the hair will hang loose. Lean into medieval or royal headpieces, clips, coverings, etc.

Rhaenyra’s Costuming

Rhaenyra’s clothes are primarily black and red, occasionally accented or substituted with neutrals such as beige, white, or gray. Exceptions may include blue or yellow, but she generally stays in this color palette.

Strong focus is drawn to her shoulders and neckline, sometimes with embroidered or embellished detailing. She often has strong, angular shoulders in her dresses or jackets, occasionally theatrically pointed. Off-the shoulder necklines emphasize her collarbones and a certain broadness.

There should be decent variety in her clothing; there is a hypothetical outfit for every occasion and more (for battle, for riding, everyday, formal, feasts, everyday, etc.), and most should be composed of multiple pieces and utilize generous layering. This includes under-fabric, belts and corsets, jackets and doublets, draped fabric for aesthetic purpose, and even functional capes.

Most of her clothes should provide visual aid for movement; additional fabric to her skirts, for example. Her clothes should be highly stylized but still easy to move in. In riding and battle gear, it is presumed that she wears pants and boots under her skirts, even if they are not visible.

Shoes lean more into boot cuts, still practical but should have a sleek and uniform quality to them. When she walks, she should make some kind of noise. Shoes should usually be black or potentially red, the latter for decorative purposes.

Overall her style should be more contemporary and lean into the fantasy element. She’s not opposed to oriental details or showing skin, and her costumes should reflect both couture-height drama and period-reliant aspects. Longer lines and diagonal hems mean she is not as devoted to an hourglass shape, and her high collars should always be decorative in some respect.

Keep her hair long and mostly loose, sometimes pulled back. Small braids should be implied as incorporated. Occasional hairstyles feature complicated braids. With the exception of highly decorative braided styles, simple buns should be avoided unless accompanied with very high necklines.

Avoid headpieces that are not either a) her crown or b) ceremonial.

[aventurineswife]

YOU NEED REQS??? I HAVE REQS

model aventurine X designer reader and like aventurine is basically reader’s muse and she legit starts to fall for him

A Beautiful Wager

Summary: As a celebrated designer, your work thrives on inspiration from the extraordinary, and Aventurine—model, IPC executive, and a walking enigma—proves to be the perfect muse. Beneath his charm and confident smirk lies a man of contradictions, and as your creative collaboration deepens, so does your bond. When the walls Aventurine hides behind begin to crack, you find yourself gambling on something more valuable than art: his heart.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn Romance, Designer x Model Dynamics, Mutual Pining, Flirty Banter, Emotional Vulnerability.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma, Emotional manipulation, Themes of self-doubt and trust issues, Subtle exploration of power dynamics.

The golden glow of Penacony’s fading sunlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of your studio, painting the room with a surreal warmth. Rolls of luxurious fabric spilled across the tables, and half-finished designs cluttered the walls, each sketch a testament to your restless creativity. At the center of it all stood him—Aventurine.

He leaned casually against the fitting stand, his long overcoat draped over one shoulder, golden jewelry catching the light. His eyes sparkled with a mischief that seemed to challenge the very laws of fate. “So,” he purred, voice smooth and tinged with amusement, “am I the perfect muse, or is my reputation doing all the work?”

You laughed, though his question wasn’t entirely untrue. Aventurine had become both a fascination and an enigma for you. As a designer, you sought inspiration in the rare and extraordinary, and he was all of that—and more. His flamboyant charm, the intricate details of his appearance, even the way he adjusted his glasses with a knowing smirk—it all captivated you.

“I wouldn’t call you perfect,” you teased, stepping closer with a measuring tape. “But you’re close enough.”

Aventurine grinned, tilting his head to let the light catch the peacock feather earring that dangled from his ear. “Close enough? My, my, darling, that stings. I’ll have you know, the IPC considers me the definition of perfection.”

“Perfection isn’t always inspiring,” you replied, your voice laced with a quiet sincerity that caught him off guard. “Flaws, contradictions—those are what make people fascinating. Like you.”

For a brief moment, Aventurine’s mask slipped. His ever-present smile softened, and something unspoken flickered in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual devil-may-care bravado. “I’m flattered. Truly. Tell me, do I inspire chaos or brilliance?”

“Both,” you admitted, stepping back to admire your work. You’d chosen a deep emerald-green fabric for his ensemble, tailored to emphasize his sleek frame and finished with intricate golden embroidery that echoed the roulette wheel motif he favored. As you adjusted the final piece, your fingers brushed against his wrist.

It was subtle, but you felt him tense under your touch.

“Do you always gamble this much on your work?” he asked, his voice quieter now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Only when the stakes are high,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

“And what’s at stake here?” Aventurine leaned in slightly, the playful edge in his tone giving way to something deeper.

You hesitated, caught off guard by the intensity of his question. His eyes searched yours, no longer masked by his usual flamboyance. For the first time, you glimpsed the man behind the facade—the vulnerability, the pain, the weight of secrets he carried.

“You...” you said softly.

The word hung between you, delicate yet unyielding. Aventurine’s expression shifted, the cracks in his armor widening as he considered your answer. He could dismiss it, turn it into another joke, another game—but he didn’t.

Instead, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing against yours in a gesture that felt both tentative and deliberate. “Careful, darling,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with warning. “You might win more than you bargained for.”

You smiled, refusing to let him retreat behind his walls. “Good. I don’t design for safe bets.”

Aventurine chuckled, the sound soft and genuine, and for the first time, his smile felt real. “Well then,” he said, his voice a mix of challenge and admiration, “let’s see if you can outplay me.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as the two of you stood there, a designer and their muse caught in a moment that felt like the beginning of something neither of you could fully understand—yet neither of you could walk away from.

[artist-ellen]

Young Alicent

Since we started with Young Rhaenyra in yellow, of course we need Alicent's matching childhood-friend dress. They have similarities in their silhouette, but Alicent's is paired down. Natural themes and embroidery instead of gemstones, yet similar shapes and fabrics.

Note: I am mostly going to be using the show as the basis of this project. For starters the show is what I'm "redesigning" to test my creativity against their prompts, and I'm also not going to read the fictional history books. GRRM has stated that he likes the depth and changes the show gives its characters... so the show is canon enough for me. If you're a book Alicent hater, where she is a more explicit villain, that's fine, it's just not what I'm exploring in this series. From what I see from the show (and enjoy the themes of) it is a more of a morally-grey, ironic tragedy. I'm not rooting for anyone to "win" I just think they could be better dressed while committing crimes.

I am the artist! Do not post without permission & credit! Thank you! Come visit me over on: instagram, tiktok or check out my coloring book available now \ („• ֊ •„) /

https://linktr.ee/ellen.artistic

[funhouse-mirror-barbie]

How I would re-write Stella Goetia, Backstory + Season 1

Probably my most popular posts on this blog are about Stella from Helluva Boss. I like to talk about her because I think she had the potential to be a really nuanced character, and I really would’ve loved to see her and Stolas have a more complicated relationship.

So I’d like to talk about the direction I would’ve taken her characterization and story in.

I do need to stress that this is NOT a writing “fix-it” post. Canon Stella may be an evil bitch, but she’s MY evil bitch and I LOVE HER. I’ve already talked quite at length about how her character and conflict with Stolas being purely black and white is not a bad story decision, but to me is less interesting than having a grey or nuanced conflict.

I just want to go over a rough outline of what I would’ve done with her as a character. Just because it���s different, doesn’t mean it’s better or is “fixing” the canon story. I also am not trying to make Stella inherently more sympathetic/likable/or “woobify” her—this is just a ROUGH outline of what I’d do to flesh Stella out as a person, and ideas I’ve had for her character that would make her (and her relationships with Stolas and Via) more appealing to me personally.

I just really wish Stella had gotten more depth, and wanted to talk about it.

(LONG) Rewrite Summary below!!!

While I think there’s also an interesting re-write where Stella and Stolas are not in an arranged marriage, and may explore this idea as well, this time around I am going to be sticking with the canon background that their marriage was arranged.

Instead of having Stella be an evil heartless spoiled child who strangles puppies, I would give her a very strict upbringing where from birth she was groomed to be the “perfect noblewoman and wife”—I would base her upbringing and the expectations placed on her on what was expected of Regency noblewomen.

Basically, Stella would be raised to be able to run the house/estate when Stolas was away, be accomplished in the “domestic arts” (hosting events such as parties and balls, being able to do embroidery and other hobbies “befitting” of her class, and being involved in charitable efforts). She would be taught to be quiet, graceful, courteous, and to always anticipate the needs of her husband.

Stella’s “true” personality as a young child would be boisterous, loud, and precocious. Stella loved playing outside, singing loudly, and dancing.

She would have gotten in trouble with her parents often due to this (“Dancing for fun is what the poor do, Darling. You should only dance to find a suitable husband”) and would be punished by her Father by his ordering the rest of the family and their staff to ignore Stella completely and act like she didn’t exist. This would usually result in Stella acting out even more to try and MAKE everyone pay attention to her, until she’d get too tired to continue and start acting “proper” (I.e. quiet, not speaking too loud or speaking out of turn, being obedient, etc.)

Her relationship with Andrealphus would have been strained, as he would have been the “golden child” while Stella would be the scapegoat. I’d also like to give Stella magic fire powers. Because honestly why does Andre get Ice Magic and Stolas get space magic and Stella is the same type of demon as them apparently and gets nothing??? Boring.

Maybe this is basic, but honestly I love characters with fire powers who have to learn to control them. As child, Stella would have difficulty controlling her fire abilities, and would be not be taught how to use or maintain her powers, but would be taught to suppress them.

As an aside—again, I’m not giving Stella a traumatic childhood to make her more likable and more pitiable. I have two reasons I’m giving her this backstory—1) I believe that even people with great parents still end up with some childhood trauma, because being alive and growing up *is* traumatic. And 2) I think that there’s a lot of pretty good evidence that ROYAL upbringings, and the expectations and restrictions that come with them, are especially traumatic in a very particular and very intense way.

Doesn’t mean that they’re not extremely privileged, but that privilege also doesn’t take away that trauma.

I think it’s very realistic for both Stella AND Stolas, as children of royalty and nobility, to have a lot of childhood trauma surrounding their upbringings, and that’s something I really want to explore in my rewrite—how they cope with their traumas and how it impacts their relationship and their ability to raise their daughter and navigate conflict.

By an older teen to young adult, she would have learned how to behave as a “perfect noblewoman”. This is when she would meet Stolas for the first time (with a a Chaperone of course).

There would be a little bit of time shortly before and after their marriage where they would have their “honeymoon” period—both Stella and Stolas were very infatuated with each other and mistook that infatuation for “true love”.

This time where they were extremely infatuated with each other would last about a year, after which they would slowly begin to realize that the idealized images they had of one another was false. They would start to argue more, have a harder time compromising etc. until they finally realized they fell out of love, and maybe were never in love in the first place.

Even though the two of them would have come to this realization, it would be separately, and due to their upbringings (where you don’t really talk about your feelings and push them down) they would NOT talk to each other about it.

This would be the first big crack in their relationship, and they would both have a lot of guilt over it.

I like the idea of the two of them really, really want to stay in love with each other, but after they get to TRULY know each other they just…never fully “click”. They realize they don’t have the same interests, they can’t really find anything to talk about, and they just. They don’t stay in love.

Stella would be very in denial about her true feelings after this turning point, and would still try to convince herself that she really loves Stolas. She would have a lot of deeply buried guilt over not loving him, and see it as a failure of her “duties” as his wife.

After this, they would find a way to keep their relationship would be cordial and respectful, but it would always tinged by an unspoken awkwardness. It would be almost business-like in nature, and they would start spending more and more time apart.

To cope with this lackluster relationship that they were both now stuck in, Stolas would throw himself fully into his duties (which I would want to show a little more of…seriously what does…what does he do??? What does he use the grimoire for????) and Stella would do the same—throwing herself into her duties as the lady of the house and a Goetia Princess.

Stella would host parties and balls, she’d make sure manor was always clean and orderly, she’d become a patron of the arts.

The basis of their relationship would become one of them sticking to the roles that were thrust upon them since birth.

Things WOULD change for the better though after Octavia’s birth.

Because for a while, Stolas and Stella would have something, someone, that brought them together, that they both loved and cared for dearly.

Something that Stella and Stolas would have spoken about before having Octavia is that they did NOT, under any circumstance, want to raise Via like they were raised.

As I already went over, both Stella and Stolas would have dealt with abuse and neglect growing up—Stolas’ abuse stems from his parents being LARGELY absent in his life and him being very neglected as a child, while Stella’s stems from her parents being extremely controlling and giving her very little, if any, freedom.

They would firmly agree on letting Via be her own person, on making time for her, on not putting too many expectations on her.

And, in this rewrite, I would not have them be abusive or neglectful parents. But I would have them be very flawed parents, whose own traumatic upbringings negatively affect their ability to raise Via.

I would want to explore Stella and Stolas fighting to break the cycle of abuse they went through, but still struggling because they don’t have a good frame of reference for what being a good parent looks like.

Stolas doesn’t realize that he’s not always giving Octavia all the time with him she needs, because in his eyes he’s spending tons of time with her—it doesn’t occur to him that he’s actually being neglectful towards her, because to him, spending any long amount of time with her is more than he ever got from his father. He’ll spend time with her, and talk to her, but not really LISTEN to what she’s saying she needs, and doesn’t understand why she doesn’t like the things she used to, or is mad at him for not taking more time for her.

Stella doesn’t realize she’s still being controlling or pushing her expectations onto Octavia by making passive aggressive comments suggesting she wear more “appropriate” or “feminine” clothing, or take up a “nicer” hobby like needlepoint and drop taxidermy. She gives Via the freedom to choose what she wants to do, but doesn’t fully SUPPORT those choices, and doesn’t understand why that’s so important, since in the end Octavia is still enjoying freedoms that Stella only dreamed of as a child.

Still, they manage to be a fairly functional and loving family towards Octavia. And Stolas and Stella maintain their cordial and business like relationship for Octavia’s sake, and to keep up appearances.

During Octavia’s teen years, when she’s 14-17, is when more cracks begin to show—Stella and Stolas have been keeping their relationship together, but it’s stagnating more and more. Stolas throws himself even more into his duties with the stars (or whatever) and Stella begins to become gradually more and more concerned and anxious about making sure her family maintains a “perfect” reputation among the other royals of hell.

Stella begins to throw more balls and parties for Hell’s charities (if this version of hell has banks, and police and prisons, they can have charitable organizations, okay.) As her and Stolas’s anniversary starts to get closer, she begins planning a HUGE ball for Hell’s nobility to celebrate. It’s hugely important to her.

While she’s doing all of this, Stolas is beginning to have an early-to-mid-life crisis. His work and duties that used to be engaging and fun are feeling more and more like a chore, his relationship with Stella has stagnated and is purely for show, he’s getting more and more anxious about Octavia approaching adulthood, and his whole life is beginning to feel more and more claustrophobic.

So. Stolas decides to do something wild, spontaneous, and very selfish, before he loses it. On a night where Stella is attending an Opera, and Via is spending the night with friends from school*, Stolas dresses in clothes he assumes “the common folk” would wear, and goes to shady bar in IMP city, with the goal of meeting someone to hook up with.

This is where Stolas meets Blitzø. (Sorry, I’m. I’m not doing the whole “paid childhood friends for one day” background.)

They have what both assume will be a one night stand at Blitzø’s place. It goes. MUCH better than either of them would have expected sex-wise. The two start meeting up more and more when they’re able to. Stolas begins to open up more to Blitzø, but it stays VERY sexual—eventually Stolas comes clean about who he is and they start to hook up at Stolas’ place whenever Stella is out. Stolas is very much infatuated with Blitzø (and the sex they have). Blitzø thinks they’re having non-complicated fun.

During AAALLL of this is when Blitzø learns about the Grimoire, and asks if he can “borrow” it for I.M.P. Stolas is impressed with Blitzø’s confidence and drive, and agrees to let Blitzø use it anytime, with the one exception being the night of the full moon. There is no full moon “deal” beyond the agreement that Blitzø cannot accept clients on the full moon because Stolas needs the book back that night.

During all of this is ALSO when Stella begins to notice Stolas acting differently, he’s slightly more energetic, he’s spending less and less time in his study and the manor in general, he doesn’t look her in the eyes when they do have time to chat briefly. It’s odd, and she’s suspicious of SOMETHING going on but she’s not sure what.

Stolas DOES feel guilty about cheating on Stella, but justifies it by telling himself that they’re not in a “true” marriage, and it’s “just sex”, so he’s not really cheating on Stella.

The night of Stella and Stolas’s anniversary ball arrives. To Stella, everything goes as expected, and it’s a huge success.

During the ball, though, we get the same scene we get in the Circus—Blitzø gets caught trying to sneak into Stolas’ room. Instead of the guards bringing him into the party, they call Stolas outside privately to deal with it (because why would the disrupt the party by dragging a party-crasher through the middle of a fancy ball?? I didn’t really understand why they did that in the og episode)

Stolas dismisses the guards, and we learn that Blitzø has been sneaking in (with Stolas’ permission+ knowledge) to get the grimoire after the full moon when he and Stolas don’t have time to meet up in person. Like tonight.

Instead of just handing off the grimoire like usual, Stolas and Blitzø end up hooking up (mutually and wholly consensually). Stolas does not return to the party.

Stella is really concerned about how Stolas’ absence looks, especially at a ball she planned with so many high profile demon lords present, but she’s able to wave it off as Stolas feeling a little tired and retiring early, due to it being the day after his full moon duties and all.

Instead of returning to their room, that night, Stella sleeps in one of the many guest rooms. She doesn’t know where Stolas is, but she’s mad at him for leaving early without saying anything on such an important night, and is hoping not coming to their bed will send a message—she’s tired anyway and doesn’t want to get in a big fight before bed that will tire her out more.

The next morning she has tea in the garden with some close friends. And this is where we get the infamous “Sorry, I fucked your husband!” scene.

After this, well. Stella kinda loses her shit. She had been pushing down all of her negative feelings and thoughts and frustrations surrounding her life and relationship for YEARS, because in her mind, as long as she was able to maintain the facade of having a “perfect” life, it would be worth it.

And now in a moment she’s lost the thing that, after her daughter, mattered to her the most.

She essentially explodes in fury in a way Stolas has never seen before—they get in a huge argument—Stella’s fire powers come out and burn down the manor’s garden, things just really get out of hand.

So. What would follow would be most of what we see of Stella in season 1 of HB—now that that floodgate has been opened, she finds she’s struggling to control her feelings, she’s mad and sad ALL THE TIME, and she’s deeply deeply hurt in a way she didn’t know she could be.

She can’t show her face in society, she doesn’t know WHAT to say to Octavia, she can’t believe Stolas could be SO SELFISH after EVERYTHING she had done to make sure their family was in high standing—and she can’t push down her feelings anymore. She’s never been so furious in her entire life.

And so she contacts a hitman, Striker.

I really like the old fan theory that Stella hired Striker in a moment of irrationality and anger because of how hurt she was—obviously her hurt does not justify trying to have her husband MURDERED, but I like the idea that she called the hit because she was deeply hurt and unable to cope with those feelings—not because she just hates him to the core of his being and has for their entire marriage. Her anger would be a coping mechanism, if she’s so busy feeling furious she doesn’t have to actually sit with her feelings of betrayal and sadness and hurt.

From here, the rest of season one would play out like in canon, we don’t see Stella in person again, just the apparition of her in Ozzie’s.

I’m going to stop here because this post is already way too long, it it’ll help me to think more if I split it up.

If you read this far please tell me what you think! I think I’d like overall for Stella and Stolas’ relationship to mirror Blitzø and Verosika’s, or maybe become a foil to it. From here we could honestly go either way—either Stella becomes a true villain, or she becomes an antagonist turned hesitant ally like Fizz, Ozzie, and Verosika.

I can see both being interesting, so maybe I’ll do a rewrite for both. We’ll see I guess.

*it weirds me the FUCK out that we don’t know anything about what Hell’s kids do, like I assume schools exist but ???anyway in this rewrite Stella and Stolas send Octavia to a fancy private school—cause the thought of her having NO friends or social circle makes me so sad)

[misspygmypie]

A One-ce Upon A Time Celebration

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry, Max F x Maebry Charles and Oscar make an appearance :) Words: 1647 Request: By the lovely @landossainz "for meet and greet universe, can you write where it is Maebry's first birthday and they celebrate it with their families and friends." Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

On this special day the Norris family backyard was transformed into a fairytale wonderland. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the sound of joyful laughter as Lando and Y/N prepared for a celebration that would mark their daughter Maebry’s very first birthday. Their chosen theme, “One-ce Upon a Time,” promised to be a magical day and they had spared no costs in bringing their vision to life.

Lando was the epitome of Prince Charming in an outfit that looked like it had been plucked from a storybook. His ensemble featured a dazzling jacket with golden embroidery, a crisp white shirt and a smile that seemed to outshine everything. He moved with pride, his heart swelling each time he glanced at his little princess.

Y/N, ever the elegant queen, was dressed in a flowing pastel gown that shimmered with every step she took. The gown was adorned with delicate embroidery of magical creatures and enchanted forests and her crown of flowers added a touch of fairytale magic. She floated through the garden, her eyes twinkling with happiness as she greeted guests and ensured that everything was perfect for their daughter.

Maebry, the star of the day, was a vision of cuteness in her stunning gown of layered yellow tulle and blue ribbons, resembling her favorite Disney princess: Snow White. Her head was topped off with a giant red bow that made her look every bit the princess she was wanting to be. Her tiny red shoes twinkled with each step she took and her face was a picture of wonder as she explored her “One-ce Upon a Time” world.

Noah was dressed as a brave knight, his silver armor shining in the sun. He had a toy sword strapped to his side and his little chest puffed with pride as he took his role as protector of his baby sister very seriously. He was the guardian of the day, always nearby to defend Maebry from any imaginary dragons or mischievous trolls that might dare to disrupt the celebration.

The garden buzzed with excitement as guests arrived to experience the fairytale wonderland. There was a “Royal Tea Party” corner where children and adults alike could enjoy tiny pastries and sip from small teacups. A “Prince and Princess” dress-up area especially made the little ones happy, they were able to pick crowns and capes to join the royal festivities. Nearby, a “Storybook Reading” nook featured comfy cushions and enchanting tales read by Y/N’s close friends, adding an extra touch of magic to the day.

Lando’s parents, who had traveled to Monaco from Bristol to celebrate their granddaughter’s special day, were absolutely besotted with Maebry. Cisca had been knitting a blanket for Maebry since before she was born. Today she was thrilled to finally present it to her granddaughter, her eyes brimming with tears of joy.

“Look at this beautiful girl,” Cisca cooed as she wrapped the soft blanket around Maebry. “I’ve been working on this for so long and it’s finally here. You truly are our little princess, darling.”

Maebry giggled as she felt the softness of the blanket, reaching out to touch her grandmother’s face. Lando’s father Adam, with a proud grin, showed off pictures of Maebry to the other guests. “Have you seen these? She’s grown so much since the last time we saw her. And just look at her in that gown!”

A group of Lando’s Formula 1 friends arrived, among them Max Verstappen with his girlfriend Kelly and daughter Penelope, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Ricciardo and also Charles Leclerc who immediately started gushing over Maebry.

“Wow, Lando, she’s absolutely adorable,” Charles said as he crouched down to Maebry’s level. “Are you sure she’s only one? She’s already got her own fan club.”

Maebry’s giggles grew louder as Charles made playful faces and he gently lifted her into his arms, rocking her back and forth. “This little princess is stealing all our hearts today.”

Oscar Piastri, Lando’s teammate, also made a grand entrance and immediately made a beeline for the “Prince and Princess” dress-up area, where he enthusiastically took a toy crown and cape, playfully pretending to be a prince alongside Maebry.

“Look at me, I’m the prince of this land,” Oscar declared with a grin, playfully spinning around. “And I’ve got the best little princess by my side!”

Lando, watching the interaction with a smile, was surprised at first. Oscar was usually more of a quiet type but everytime he was around Maebry he turned into the fun uncle instantly. 

“Thanks for coming, everyone,” Lando said eventually to the other drivers, “it means a lot to us that you’re here to share this day with us. Maebry’s been looking forward to celebrating with all of you.”

Charles waved a hand dismissively. “It’s our pleasure! We wouldn’t miss it for the world. And you know, she’s already got us all wrapped around her little finger.”

“Absolutely,” Oscar added, adjusting his crown, “she’s the real star of the show. I think we might have to make her our team’s official mascot!”

Maebry’s birthday party was in full swing and one guest was extra excited. Max Fewtrell, Lando’s best friend and Maebry’s godfather, had been eagerly waiting for the perfect moment to present his special gift. Dressed in a perfect Flynn Ryder outfit Max smiled as he approached Lando and Y/N, who was holding Maebry.

“Hey, guys,” Max called out, catching Lando’s eye. “Can I borrow Maebry for a moment?”

Y/N, not hesitating at all, gently handed Maebry over to him. “Of course, she’s been looking forward to seeing her favorite uncle.”

Max cradled Maebry in his arms, his face lighting up and everyone could see how much he adored her. “I’ve got something really special for you, little one,” he directed at the girl just as he was sitting down at a table. “It’s not every day you turn one, after all.”

He reached into a large, pink gift bag and carefully pulled out a beautifully crafted storybook. The book was bound in rich, deep blue leather with gold lettering on the cover that read, “Maebry’s Magical Adventures.” It featured illustrations of mythical creatures, enchanted forests and twinkling stars.

“Look at this,” Max said, showing the book to Maebry as she gazed up at him with wide, curious eyes. “I had this made just for you.”

Max opened the book to reveal its contents, which were not only filled with personalized stories but also featured memories of Max and Maebry together. The first few pages contained charming tales of a brave little princess who looked remarkably like Maebry, embarking on magical quests and discovering new lands. Each story was accompanied by illustrations that included subtle nods to special moments Max and Maebry had shared so far, like their first meeting or a day spent playing in the park.

On the final page was a special dedication from Max, written in elegant script:

To Maebry, my dearest goddaughter,

May this book be the start of many magical adventures. Whenever you open it, remember that you are loved beyond measure and that there is always a world of wonder waiting for you. With all my love,

Max

Max’s voice softened as he continued, “I thought this would be a great way for you to have a little piece of magic with you every night as you grow up. And when you’re older you can read the stories together with your parents. It’ll be a special keepsake from your first birthday.”

Maebry’s eyes widened in delight as she traced the gold lettering on the cover. Lando and Y/N watched and Y/N couldn’t hold back the tears from forming in her eyes. “That’s an amazing gift, Max,” Lando said. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

Max looked up at his best friend, his eyes shining with sincerity. “She’s my goddaughter, after all. I want her to have something magical to remember this day by and something she can cherish as she grows up. I’ve been showering her with gifts and little surprises since she was born and I’m not going to stop, ever, but I wanted this to be extra special.”

Y/N reached out and gave Max a heartfelt hug. “Thank you, Max. It’s perfect. Maebry will treasure it forever.”

Max carefully placed the book into Y/N’s hands and she held it close to Maebry. “I hope you love it as much as I loved picking it out for you,” he said softly, giving the girl a loving kiss on her cheek.

Maebry clapped her hands with joy, her eyes sparkling as she gazed at her new book but soon Max whisked her away to rejoin the birthday activities.

As the sun began to set Lando and Y/N took a moment to themselves. They watched as Maebry played with the other kids, her eyes sparkling with happiness. Lando’s gaze, however, was not just filled with pride, it was also tinged with just a touch of sadness.

“It’s hard to believe my little princess is already one,” Lando said softly. “It feels like just yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital. Watching her grow up so fast… it’s both wonderful and a little heartbreaking.”

Y/N noticed the look in Lando’s eyes and gently took his hand. “I know,” she said, her voice soothing. “It’s incredible how quickly time passes. But look at her now, she’s so happy, surrounded by people who love her. We’ve made so many beautiful memories already and there are so many more to come.”

Lando nodded, his gaze returning to his daughter as she giggled. “You’re right. Today has been perfect and I’m so proud of her. I just wish time didn’t move so quickly.”

“We can’t stop time but we can cherish every moment,” Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder.

________

AN: Thank you so so much for requesting this @landossainz UGH I was so excited to write this, I may have gone a biiit over the top lol! I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[duskydiapers]

Hello all! 👋 Call me Dusky! 27 She/They I'm your local trans fem gender fuck deer girl who loves filling her diapers!

!!!Minors DNI!!!

Currently trying to build motivation for a Just for Fans so encouragement is apriciated if you wana see that 😘

SFW Things I like:

- D&D I'm a huge ass nerd lol

- Tabletop games as well as card games (help MTG has me in it's grips)

- Arts & Crafts. Love making chainmaile and learning lots of other crafts like sewing and embroidery. Making stuff is just fun 🥰

-All things animation. The Owl House is probably my favorite show 🦉

-🩷🩵🤍 Trans Rights 🤍🩵🩷

NSFW Stuff:

- Favorite and most featured one on here, AB/DL 🥰 mostly into the DL side of things but would love to explore my little side at some point with friends or partners.

-Belly stuffs. Love me a girl with a big belly, honesty kinda wana be one. Please make me soft and round 🤤 whatever method works be it stuffing me with food, breeding me, cumflation, etc. It's all good uwu.

-Petplay. Love being a cute lil puppy girl! Pet me, train me, feed me, breed me! 🐶

-And much more! If we're friends, feel free to ask!

[aphroditelovesu]

Kitten Pajamas

❝commission: a slightly angsty oneshot that incorporates the kitten pajamas somehow. I'm imagining a situation where Alexander sees them out and starts asking her (again) where she's from. Basically, something that shows she's managed to avoid telling him. — requested by 💻 anon.

❝ 📜 — lady l: I got a little emotional while writing this, don't ask me why, since I don't even know the answer, but I liked how it turned out. I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! 🤎

❝tw: slight angst.

❝📜pairing: slight yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

❝word count: 1,180.

You stared at the kitten pajamas with a soft smile curving your lips, your fingers sliding over the soft fabric, almost as if they were tracing every detail, every line of the embroidery that made up the kittens' faces. With each touch, it was as if the memories of home, tucked deep in your mind so that you wouldn't go completely crazy, began to infiltrate your mind, bringing with them a mixture of longing and comfort.

The truth is that you had completely forgotten about the existence of those pajamas. They were stored, well protected at the bottom of a trunk, inside your tent, along with other things that you, in your busy routine full of responsibilities, rarely allowed yourself to revisit. It was as if that small piece of clothing, with its slightly worn fabric, was the only physical reminder of a life that seemed increasingly distant, something almost untouchable.

You had no specific reason to go through the trunks that day. You were just bored, trying to shake off the monotony that surrounded you, when a sudden burst of energy made you decide that maybe it would be a good idea to explore those forgotten corners. Who knows what you might find?

It was like that, amidst the dust and the smell of things stored away for a long time, that you found the pajamas. Cleaning had never been your favorite activity, but at that moment, as you held that small piece of clothing, you felt an unexpected joy. It was as if, for a moment, you had returned home, and the kitten pajamas were the thread that connected the future to the present.

A feeling of melancholy took hold of you, like a slow and inevitable wave, as your eyes traveled over every detail of the pajamas. Your fingers, once delicate, now gripped the fabric with more force than necessary, as if they wanted to extract more than just memories from that worn-out piece.

Home.

Such a simple word, yet so powerful at the same time. It echoed within you, awakening an emptiness that, although familiar, seemed to deepen with each passing day. Longing was something you had learned to carry, but at that moment, you felt its weight more than ever. The pain of being away, of feeling increasingly disconnected from everything you knew and loved, tightened your chest with an almost suffocating intensity.

You realized that, over time, you had begun to think less and less about home. When you first arrived here, the memories of your family and friends had been vivid, constant. But now, almost without realizing it, those memories were becoming hazy, distant, as if time was slowly erasing their faces, their voices, their smells. This was even more painful. The idea that you might be forgetting, that those people who had once meant so much to you were turning into shadows, filled you with a deep, painful sadness.

It was as if, in trying to adapt to this new place, you were leaving behind parts of yourself, parts you didn’t want to lose. And now, holding your pajamas, you realized that those parts were fading away, becoming nothing more than memories. The idea that your home, your real home, was becoming a distant memory was an unbearable thought.

You didn't even notice when the tears you were holding back started to run down your face, but you did notice when you heard a voice that haunted you as much as it comforted you echo in the silence of the tent.

"Why are you crying?" Alexander's voice rang out, filled with a concern he rarely showed. He approached you with barely audible steps, his calloused hands gently touching your shoulders, trying to offer some comfort, even without knowing the exact cause of your sadness.

Instinctively, you wiped the tears with the palm of your hand, trying to disguise the pain that still throbbed in your chest. Shaking your head in a gesture of denial, you looked up to meet his eyes, while still holding your pajamas tightly, as if they could anchor you to reality.

"Just some memories." You murmured, your voice low and heavy with emotion. Your eyes reflected a quiet sadness. Alexander, noticing the fragility of the moment, did something unusual for him: he didn’t insist, didn’t press you to explain further. Instead, he remained by your side, his gaze now fixed on the pajamas in your hands.

"This fabric..." He began, his voice hesitant as he tried to piece together a vague memory. Your eyes narrowed in concentration. "I’ve seen it before, haven’t I?"

Your hands began to sweat, as a slight panic settled over your body. You needed a good excuse, and fast. The last thing you wanted was for him to start questioning you incessantly, like he always did, with that relentless way that seemed to see through any disguise.

"Now I remember, you were wearing this when I first met you." Alexander spoke, his voice slightly accusatory but curious.

"Yes, I was wearing this." You mumbled, sighing.

Alexander took the pajamas in his hands, examining the fabric and the designs curiously. ''I've never seen anything like this before. Where is this from, exactly?''

"From the same place I came from, Alexander." You replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "It's pretty far away, you know? This fabric is common where I'm from. Everyone has something like this, it's very... Common and normal." You could feel your own hesitation showing in your words, and you mentally cursed yourself for sounding so anxious. You couldn't let him see how uncomfortable you were.

Alexander continued to stare at the pajamas for a few more seconds, as if he was trying to absorb every detail, searching for some hidden meaning. You knew you needed to change the subject of the conversation before he started questioning you more deeply.

"It's a simple piece, but it has sentimental value." You added, trying to sound casual. "That's all. Maybe we can put it back in the trunk and you can tell me about some of the new spoils of war?" You gave him a half-hearted smile, trying to direct his attention elsewhere.

Alexander looked up at you, and for a moment, he seemed to consider your words. He wasn’t one to leave questions unanswered, but perhaps he realized that this wasn’t the time to press. With one last glance at the pajamas, he finally handed them back to you, shrugging.

As he stepped aside to make room for you to put them away, you let out a sigh of relief. For now, you had managed to divert his attention, but you knew he wouldn’t forget so easily. Alexander was persistent, and that meant that sooner or later, you would have to deal with these issues again. But for now, the comforting silence of the tent reigned once more, and you put the pajamas away at the bottom of the trunk, trying to let the painful memories lie dormant for a little while longer.

[pumpkinfyre]

Prisoner of Vows

Chapter One: Union

Summary: Naelys Velaryon is the beloved daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. After the Dance begins, she is trapped in Kings Landing and forced to choose between her blood.

Warnings: angst, religion, naelys is pious

Having not been in Kings Landing for several years, Naelys could not say she was particularly excited about their visit. Alas, her marriage to Aegon Targaryen was fundamental to both sides of the family. Her father would not have forced her into such a situation, but he was dead, both of them were. Harwin Strong lost to fire, as Laenor Velaryon had been. 

She particularly disliked having to sit in a carriage with her stepfather and mother, when she could have just flown her dragon to the Keep. 

"I mislike all of this, Sweetling," Rhaenyra says, breaking the silence in the carriage. Her hand was rubbing at her swollen belly, wincing slightly as the carriage rocked. "You must understand this. Your grandsire is adamant about keeping his promises, and as his heir, I must do the same." 

Naelys nods her head, her lips frowning. 

"It is easy enough to marry him, mother. You will return to Dragonstone, and I will be left to stitch our broken family together by myself." 

Daemon dares to comment. 

"You may have whoever you want once you are married," he says, a smirk on his thin lips. "Aegon is known to take in whores, you may as well do the same." Naelys grimaces, scoffing suddenly. She was a woman of faith, the suggestion that she would take a mistress was offensive. "I'd rather not, Daemon," she says, sparing a look towards her heavily pregnant mother. 

Rhaenyra was pregnant with her second child with Daemon, and Naelys could see that the carriage ride was bothering her mother. The bumps of the rocks and gravel left her looking sick and uncomfortable. She hoped the ride was almost over for her mother's sake. 

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Kings Landing had changed drastically since her last time there. Naelys climbs out of the stuffy carriage, only to be met with the thick air of the Keep. Dragonstone was open and the smell of salt and dragons was all there was. The Keep smelled... unclean. Before she can think of her old home, a pair of tiny arms wrapped around her waist. Joffrey had stuffed his face into her skirts, his little legs wobbly. The boy was only four and had become extremely attached to his older sister, much like how Luke clung to their mother. She picks him up, little Joff being balanced on her hip as she waits for the rest of the family to leave their respective carriages. 

Rhaenyra stands nearby, cradling her baby bump as she watches over her children. Jace and Luke come to their sister's side, Luke hiding behind her as the family is approached by the Queen Consort, her children standing behind her. Naelys tries to avoid eye contact with Aegon or Aemond as she waits for her mother to talk. It had never been her strong suit, not that she would want to talk to anyone. The nasal moan of Silverwing can be heard above, the large she-dragon flying past the gates.  Naelys smiles the sound of her dragon bringing her comfort. 

At some point, Naelys finds herself in her old bedroom. The introductions had been short, and everyone had been sent away to explore their old home. Instead of Targaryen memorabilia everywhere, there were signs of the Seven, and she found it comforting. Unlike many in her family, Naelys had become a devout worshipper of the Seven, she found happiness in her faith. 

"Not a thing has changed," The gentle voice of her mother resonates in the air, and Naelys turns to see Rhaenyra standing at the door. She stalks towards the bed, her pale fingers tracing the embroidery of Naelys' old bed covers. They were a deep blue, with shells and pearls embroidered. "When you were born, your father would only dress you in blue, to show that you were his little Velaryon princess..." Rhaenyra muses, holding her belly as she sat down on the covers. "Gods forbid I try to dress you in red or black, he'd have a fit!" She laughs, smiling as Naelys takes a seat next to her. "I regret that he cannot see you now..." 

Naelys, despite sharing the same father as her younger brothers Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joff, had white hair much like her Valyrian ancestors. 

Most days she thought it was the only reason her legitimacy wasn't argued whilst her brothers were. There were whispers, of course, but no one openly called her a bastard. 

"You were his little pearl... that's what he called you," Rhaenyra grasps her daughter's hand in her own, running her thumb over the smooth skin of her palm. "By the end of this, I'm sure you will find your own happiness, Lys." "What if I don't? What if they kill me once you leave for Dragonstone?" It was rare for Naelys to voice her worries, her only confidant was Silverwing, her dragon. She had difficulty communicating with her mother, especially after the death of her father all those years ago. "They know what I am." Rhaenyra snaps her head to the left, looking at her daughter with a worried expression. "Your grandsire would never allow it, you know this!" 

Their conversation is cut short when Daemon enters the room, looking around at the interior with an interested expression. 

"Dinner is ready." 

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

Naelys sat in her seat, sipping at the cider in her goblet as everyone around her chatted. She was seated inbetween her future husband and her stepfather. 

Quite uncomfortable. 

"Your necklace is very beautiful, Princess," Alicent starts up a conversation, as she sat across from Naelys. "I did not know you were pious." Rhaenyra looks to her right, smiling encouragingly towards her daughter. The necklace in question was a small pendant of the seven-pointed star, the chain had pearls embedded in, and the star itself was silver. "Thank you, Your Grace," Naelys says, giving a curt smile. "I find much comfort in the Faith, though there isn't much of a Sept on Dragonstone." "What she means is that she locks herself in her chambers and prays for hours." Daemon cuts in, looking at Naelys as she places her goblet down. "I do not find that shameful in the slightest, My Prince," says Alicent. "I'd be delighted if she accompanied me to the Sept on the morrow." 

Naelys smiles gently, not noticing the stare that her betrothed was giving her. Aegon sulks at the table, taking a heavy swig of his wine. He hadn't been expecting this in the slightest. Naelys had been a mature girl for her age when they were all children, and it seemed to Aegon that she hadn't changed. Polite smiles and chatter with his mother, but not once has she looked his way. He had even combed his hair before dinner, much to his mother's surprise. 

Perhaps that awkward disposition had stuck with Naelys even after all these years. 

The awkward staring coming from her betrothed had not escaped Naelys. She could feel Aegon's eyes burning her skin, like a hot flame. She had not seen Aegon since the incident on Driftmark, where Aemond had lost his eye. She had just claimed Silverwing before the funeral was to be held, so she had snuck out from her room to be with her dragon. 

Needless to say she had gotten caught in the crossfire of the dispute between her brothers and Aemond. Rocks were thrown, eyes were removed, but at the end of the night Naelys and Aegon had been betrothed to each other. A feeble attempt at peace by her beloved grandsire. The dispute had left Naelys with fear for what the future held. 

Being married to her own uncle once she was of age wasn't exactly something she found herself looking forward to. 

The distance away from Daemon was welcome, though. 

Dinner had come to a finish without much fuss, and Naelys could feel the exhaustion move over her body in waves. Her dark brown eyes drooped slightly as she sat in her seat, barely registering the sound of people getting up to retire. Her mother and younger brothers had already left, as had the queen and Naelys' grandfather. Daemon still resided at her side, per her mother's request. He was to be her chaperone until she was married to Aegon. 

Naelys sighs, taking one last sip of the crisp cider in her goblet. The aroma of apples and cinnamon blessing her consciousness as she savored the flavor. It was the taste of her childhood.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

Rhaenyra had taken it upon herself to get her daughter ready for her trip to the Sept with the queen. Whilst Naelys usually wore soft blue gowns to represent her father, she chose a sweet velvet dress, black and deep maroon. Rhaenyra takes her time pulling her daughter's snowy hair into a braid, fastening the braid to the back of Naelys' head, as the princess preferred her hair to be pulled back. Whilst Rhaenyra herself had golden-white hair, Naelys' hair had always been paler, white as snow. It was thick, though, and it was a hassle to deal with. 

"I'll light a candle for father while I'm there," Naelys says, looking at herself in the mirror as Rhaenyra finishes up the hairdo. Rhaenyra fishes out some strands of the white hair, bringing out fringe to frame Naelys' round face. Rubbing her thumb over the pale cheeks of her daughter, the princess sighs. "My beautiful girl..." Rhaenyra coos, a certain sadness in her voice. She had objected the union between Aegon and her daughter for years, unwilling to marry off her heir and only daughter. Naelys was willing to do her duty if it meant some semblance of peace could be found, but it pained Rhaenyra to give her child away. 

Naelys grabs a small mahogany box off of her large dresser, smiling encouragingly at her mother. 

"I had this made for the queen, well wishes should do us well," says Naelys, handing the small box to her mother. Rhaenyra opens the small hatch, peering into the box with curiosity. Small gifts were no surprise coming from the young princess, she often made things for those she loved. Her love was usually only for her brothers and mother, but Rhaenyra supposed this was a special occasion. 

Inside the box was a golden ring, embedded with a large emerald.

"Queen Alicent always seems to wear gold, and it looks very regal on her, so..." Naelys awkwardly shifts as she watches her mother observe the ring. 

"I am sure Alicent will love this, Sweet Girl," Rhaenyra says, finally closing the box before setting it back down on the white mahogany dresser. 

...

The trip to the Sept had come early, Naelys listening to the flickering of candles as she kneeled beside Alicent. The queen lights a candle with a burning wick before folding her hands in front of her. Naelys light her own candle, murmuring the name of her father before readying herself to pray. The Sept was quiet, as it was meant to be, a stark difference from the rest of Kings Landing and the Keep. The silence held a certain comfort to it, something Naelys was not used to. She doesn't notice Alicent’s gaze until the queen decides to speak. 

"Do you pray often?" She questions, looking towards the princess as she opens her soft brown eyes. Naelys folds her hands into her lap, feeling a bit embarrassed. "Yes... I pray to the Gods very often, Your Grace." She said quietly, her eyes focused on the candle she had lit for her father, the smaller one beside it represented Ser Harwin, though she could not say that out loud. "I can only see my father in my dreams, so I pray to dream when I sleep." 

As a child, Naelys clung to her father. Laenor doted on her like she was the only thing that mattered to him, so while many gave her odd stares and made her feel unwanted in the Keep, her father would sneak her extra cake after dinner, and he even taught her how to spar. His death had devastated Naelys, and the union between her mother and Prince Daemon had put an extreme strain on their relationship. She had a hard time connecting with her youngest brother, Aegon, due to how she felt about Daemon. 

It was difficult. 

"My stepfather teases me, but I find comfort in my faith." 

Alicent is quiet, and she looks away, her eyes narrowed slightly. 

Faith was a strong ally, Alicent Hightower knew this better than most. 

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

Naelys sits at her dresser, undoing her braids as she looked at herself in the mirror. The snowy-white tresses of hair fall down her back, and she can hear the distinct sound of her music box. Her grandmother would be arriving soon, Rhaenys had just sent word of their departure from Dragonstone. Rhaena had brought Joffrey to her quarters, as he was getting fussy and their mother was already abed. 

"Are you worried? About marriage, I mean," Rhaena asks swiftly, her dark eyes focused on the young boy as he rolled around in his sister's bedding. Naelys walks over to the large bed, handing her brother a toy before settling next to Rhaena. They had become close in the years since their parents had gotten married, Naelys acting like an older sister towards Baela and Rhaena. Baela had voiced her displeasure in letters about Naelys' union to Aegon, and they were all sure they would hear more once she arrived in court. "Of course I am, but it's my duty." Naelys responds plainly, huffing slightly as she rakes her fingers through her hair. "Will you watch over Joff once you return to Dragonstone? I'm sure mother will have her hands full with the new babe..." Rhaena frowns, her eyes narrowed sadly. 

"I wish I could stay with you here... perhaps you could take me to ward," Rhaena scoffs, seemingly not liking the idea of her cousin being married. "If you stayed here with me, you wouldn't have the chance to claim a dragon, Rhaena," Naelys rises from the bed, grabbing her cousins hand and leading her towards a brazier stationed by the window. With a steady hand, Naelys uncovers it, revealing a pale pink egg, with onyx sprinkled on the scales. Rhaena's eyes widen, shockingly she looks towards Naelys as the princess smiles softly. 

"Silverwing released a new clutch of eggs," she says, admiring the egg with happy eyes. "When I saw this one, I immediately thought of you, Rhaena." "I want you to bring this egg to Dragonstone with you, and if we're lucky enough, Morning will be yours." 

Rhaena wants to speak. She wants to remind Naelys that isn't how claiming a dragon works, but the egg is so beautiful, and she feels a striking pulse of connection whenever she gets too close to it. 

This may be her dragon.

hello, hello! I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter, and any feedback is absolutely appreciated! 

just an extra note, I'm fully aware that Morning didn't hatch from Silverwing, I just made it that way for plot purposes 🎀

masterlist ᡣ𐭩

[idyllic-affections]

i feel like alhaithams child would like the arts. they’d be smart and intelligent and everything but they’d also love the arts. that’s what got alhaitham to question the sages in the first place, seeing his child’s emerald eyes light up when they are creative (and uncle kaveh giving them tips on art), he has to wonder what is so BAD about art. trying to hid his child’s talent breaks him more than words could ever explain and even though it’s for their safety, he feels like he’s being the worst father in the world. however, the secret meetings with nilou for dance, the art lessons with kaveh, and him sneaking yarns, fabrics, threads, and art supplies are ways for them to explore art until something changes. and if anyone asks him why his clothes have embroidered green on them, he says he bought it from another region even though it breaks his heart to not brag about how talented his child is.

(sorry if this is all over the place, my brain just couldn’t stop thinking about this  scenario)

suffocation.

summary. alhaitham can't understand what the issue with the arts is.

trigger & content warnings. alhaitham feels like a bad dad :((

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. slight angst, reverse comfort. dad!alhaitham & reader, implied kaveh & reader, implied nilou & reader. 0.5k words. they/them pronouns used for reader. this post is an expansion of scholarly lineage.

author's thoughts. teehee.... soft angst for you all, in preparation for the worse things i have planned <3

Alhaitham truly, wholeheartedly has failed to understand what it is about the arts that has the Sages so disturbed.

He really wasn't the type to needlessly question them. In his eyes, it was more trouble than it was worth. Being unnecessarily difficult would only bring trouble to himself and his household. Their stance on the arts didn't affect him, it didn't seem to affect Kaveh all that badly, but [Name]...

It affected his child.

Too young to voice their opinion in a way that was safe and effective like Kaveh did, yet also too old to remain blissfully unaware of how stifling the world truly was. The Sages' stance on anything even remotely creative affected his child very deeply, because they were very aware of it, yet could not do anything to combat it.

And his child—Gods, he swore they were a talent to be beheld. From Kaveh always, always ranting to him about how skilled they were and how they had so much potential to be one of the greatest minds in Sumeru both academically and artistically (Alhaitham can't really tell if Kaveh is exaggerating or not, but he wouldn't put it past his child to be so brilliant), to Nilou gushing to him about how she just adored getting to teach them and how quick they learned... he couldn't help but begin to wonder. To question.

What right did the Sages have to suppress the artistic side of Sumeru?

What right did they have to suppress his child's brilliance? His child's, of all people's. He was appalled at the thought, really. He was offended on their behalf, though he did not let it show.

When his coat went missing, he didn't think much of it. He'd assumed it was Kaveh's doing at first—it wouldn't be the first time the Architect left in a hurry and took the wrong things with him—but his theory was disproven in a few mere hours.

His child soon returned his coat to him with an excited smile.

He was quick to notice the vaguely glimmery shine of green thread, embroidered skillfully along the edges, and—

And his heart broke apart in his chest. He knew he wouldn't be able to boast, to tell his curious coworkers that the embroidery was his child's beautiful work. It would get him in trouble. It would get them in trouble.

What kind of father was he, cruelly hiding his child's talent from the world? What kind of father was he? What kind of father would fail so horribly, as he was now, to uplift his child? Circumstance be damned.

What kind of father was he to be behaving this way?

Somehow, they seemed to read his mind.

"It's not really your fault, baba," they told him. "Anyway, I didn't embroider it for praise. I embroidered it because I thought it would look nice on you."

His coat was gingerly discarded off to the side, and his arms were around his child before they could even process what had happened.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[witchtwig]

Costuming, Connections, and Constructing Meaning Agatha All Along Thoughts

This isn’t an essay. This is just rambling and plucking at the threads of thoughts I’ve had since the end of Agatha. Also apologies for the fact this is all over the place. I just really wanted to start sorting out some of the visual signifiers I was fixated on when looking at the Agatha All Along designs.

The costuming design, art, and choices made on Agatha All Along are phenomenal. And it is clear from just reading through Daniel Selon’s instagram how much thought and effort went into the work of making those looks stand out as strong as they did. In particular, I have been fascinated by two looks of Agatha’s—her witch’s look (first introduced in Wandavision) and her spirit’s look. In particular, I want to consider them through the lens of what they say about Agatha and potentially where she is going, but also, hypothetically, her relationship to the original Green Witch, Death, Rio Vidal. 

Agatha Harkness, Wandavision

As noted above, Agatha’s witch look was first seen in Wandavision. This is important in the context of Rio, because as a character she had not been introduced or even conceptualized yet. Despite that, I do think there are some interesting design choices on the costume that with the introduction of Rio, can be reanalyzed through that relationship (and to Nicholas, Agatha’s (and likely Rio’s) son). Specifically if we look at the neckline/chest design of the piece—there is a fascinating embroidery work. Tendrils of vines or roots mask off her chest, reminiscent of a scar. This is where her locket with Nicholas’s hair centrally sits (which, in episode 8, has fallen off and not worn during her battle with Rio). 

During episode 9, we see Agatha create a cairn over the burial of her son Nicholas. In this moment, she sings through tears that she “buried my own heart here with you, my child.” A central point of Agatha Harkness’ character throughout her journey in Agatha All Along, is that she is closed off to the point of using deceit to manipulate and obscure attempts to know or truly see her. And to turn back to the costume—this design work indicates the hidden nature of her heart. 

We can look too, beyond her witch’s costume, to her costuming within the fourth episode during the fire trial. Agatha’s heart is momentarily exposed, but she closes it off and hides it, specifically when her ex-lover, Rio, attempts to create a floor with her. It is interesting then to note that Rio has her heart on full display that entire conversation. 

Rio Vidal and Agatha Harkness, Agatha All Along episode 4

And to go further, we can also note that Rio’s costuming as Death in episode 8, quite literally exposes her obsidian heart. Where Agatha’s heart is hidden (scarred over, perhaps), Rio’s heart is on full display. Looking back at Rio’s episode 1 appearance near the end, she declares that her heart is black and beats for (you) Agatha.

Rio Vidal as Death, Agatha All Along episode 8

This is the fundamental crux of the struggle between these two characters in full display in the design choices of their costuming. Agatha’s heart is no longer on display or truly reachable (it has been buried, by Nicholas’ death, by Rio’s existence as death), versus Rio’s heart on constant display (open and yearning). To me, this is what makes the costuming and design choices of Agatha’s outfit as a spirit in episode 9 very interesting, because it suggests a shift, an evolution of her character (that may not have come into view fully yet, but can be explored moving forward).

Agatha Harkness, ghost costume behind the scenes

Agatha’s costume as a spirit has shifted from the closed, vine-covered design, to a more open space. Through death, through Death, accepting her lover, Agatha has found herself at a new point within her existence. One that allows light in, one where her closed off heart is no longer hidden under the weight, vines, and scarring of the loss of her son (and I would argue the trauma of her struggle to accept and feel comfortable in her love of Rio). 

The costuming change between her witch’s outfit and her ghost outfit also has a shift in the overall patterning of the upper portion of the design. As a spirit, the bodice now has an intricate line pattern, which could be argued to be reminiscent of Rio’s branching patterns.

Agatha and Rio's looks side by side

Daniel Selon noted on his Instagram the ghost design for Agatha that the costume’s letting in of light was her letting go of the weight of those she had taken the lives of over the years, I think too it more importantly could indicate the potential for her to begin to actually emotionally connect again with her heart no longer hidden. And if we look to the fact she both pointed out that she did not kiss Rio for Billy’s sake (further pushed by Jac Schaffer in an interview), and the fact she noted it was not Billy who released her from the hex (he merely loosened the lid), on top of her understanding that “sometimes… boys die”—this all could allow for her and Rio to reunite in the future on better footing. 

This of course hinges on the fact Agatha does begin to do some of the emotional work on herself that she has been avoiding, by helping Billy and giving herself the thing she felt she lost when she lost Nicholas. But the possibility for her to do that work is now there. She took a step in no longer denying her own emotions through her kiss with Rio, and has the possibility to work through her grief more fully through Billy. 

It should also be noted again that by and large, Agatha is not a very communicative person when it comes to her emotions. This is even more so true when acknowledging her feelings around Nicholas and Rio. She only calls Rio by her name once throughout the show, and not even to her face. She never divulges the truth of what happened to Nicholas to Billy, despite the youth seeking that knowledge. So, it is important then for her to wear visual markers of both on her, even where she will not voice their story—she is wrapped up in them all the same, still. 

It will be interesting to see where these characters go from here, because it is doubtful this is the last of any of them. And either way, symbolically, I think there is a lot of positive potential, tucked away into the costuming and design choices. Thanks for reading my weird little ramble!  

[sparxyv]

Milena Student ID 💜🦅

[EDIT: Milena does NOT look like this anymore! See my newer posts for her revamped design 😙]

I decided to finally issue a proper introduction to Milena Chase for you guys so she doesn't remain a face without a story any longer 😤

Thank you for the template @kiwiplaetzchen !! 🫶

Brace yourself for a big infodump - here is Milena's backstory etc etc 🫠

Family

Milena Jacqueline Chase was born in 1874 to a French muggle, Henri Marie Chase, and a Japanese witch, Miyuki Hoshino.

Milena is the oldest of seven siblings.

The Chase Family™ is extremely rich, like, buttloads of money rich. Coming from a long line of vintners, they founded one of the leading brands of the best quality wines in Europe, as well as owned a luxury hotel in central Paris.

Milena's grandparents on her mother's side lived in Feldcroft, and still do. They often watched over the Sallow twins after their parents death when Solomon was busy. (Milena does not know her grandparents. 👍)

Miyuki - Milena's mother - was a Slytherin in Hogwarts, and was friends with Solomon Sallow.

Life Before Hogwarts

Growing up, Milena and her siblings resided in their family's hotel in Paris, France. Since their parents were too busy with business and galas, they were raised by the housekeepers and servants that worked at the hotel.

Milena was homeschooled, undergoing typical muggle education with many tutors over the years. She gained a passion for learning early on, intensively studying practically anything that piqued her interest! (my little Matilda LOL)

Milena did NOT go to Beauxbatons, yet showed signs of magic very early on. The only reason she was aware of magic and wizardkind because of her mother's house elf, Teeley. (we love Teeley 🫶)

She had so much free time on her hands that she'd mastered and studied so many different things, making her a true jack of all trades! Some of these things include - Chess, fencing, horseback riding, painting, embroidery, baking, PLUS she's fluent in German and Russian (in addition to English and French).

Relationships

I'm planning on going more in depth with Milena's relationships in a series of separate posts so I'm just going to list her closest friends 💜

Sebastian Sallow

Anne Sallow

Ominis Gaunt

Imelda Reyes

Athol 'Mousey' McGregor

Samantha Dale

Amit Thakkar

Natsai Onai

Garreth Weasley

Poppy Sweeting

Sacharissa Tugwood

Richard Jackdaw

Personality

MBTI - ENTJ-A

Alignment - Neutral Good

I really think of Milena's personality as close to the in-game MC as possible, but I do tend to wander from that sometimes.. 😗😗

Milena always strives to help out people when faced with trouble, but never actively seeks out problems to solve - they just always seem to find her. Nevertheless, she always takes on difficult situations and rises to the challenge.

It helps a lot that she's very self-assured, something that came out of spending most of her childhood alone and taking care of herself AND others. That being noted, she's a natural born leader. Milena is assertive and logical and can easily adjust and adapt to many different situations - which makes her the perfect person to deal with a certain Slytherin boy who's emotions control him and not the other way around.. 👀👀

Milena is an ambivert. While she enjoys socializing, she's also comfortable being alone. She doesn't exactly prefer one over the other though. Socializing comes easy to her, and she has a secure attachment style when it comes to her relationships, never really feeling insecure about them or getting jealous easily. Milena tends to be more mature, and she never internalizes things when people are rude - but because she's so calm and mellow, people are usually either drawn to her or intimidated by her.

As a Ravenclaw, Milena is naturally curious! She's constantly on the hunt to learn new things, which is why she enjoys exploring outside of Hogwarts so much, taking in everything she can about the hamlets and just the Highlands in general. Her curiousity helps her find wonder in even the smallest of things. She's very open-minded, yet nearly always at least slightly skeptical when it comes to new things. She can be very opinionated, but is always open to other perspectives.

Milena is not one to be overly expressive with her emotions (but to be clear - she doesn't hide them either 😗), yet she does have a side of her that naturally comes out only when she feels comfortable. With friends like Sebastian especially, she feels like she can let loose and be more playful as well as a bit snarky/sarcastic.

Additional Fun Facts!

I've already mentioned this before - but Milena's absolute favorite things in the world are BIRDS. Birds of all kinds. She knows everything about every species, and I mean everything. And somehow, birds naturally flock to her like she's some type of woodland princess.

Milena's hair is NOT naturally curly/wavy, nor is it naturally auburn! Prior to Hogwarts, she used a charm to change her hair color, but it seemed to have some extra effects on her hair texture too..

Milena doesn't often speak French after arriving at Hogwarts, but since it's her native language, she finds it much easier to express herself in French even though she speaks near-perfect English. She also enjoys sneaking in French phrases to occasionally mess with Sebastian since he has no idea what she's saying 🥰🥰

Her love language is gift-giving, but when it comes to receiving it would be acts of service and quality time.

Is VERY passionate about potion-making.

Becomes an animagus in the summer before sixth-year, her animagus form being a giant golden eagle!

Already mentioned but she's quite fearless, except for when it comes to mooncalves. (She's more creeped out by them than scared of them, though.)

More of a dog person - Raphael is the exception 💜

Seeker for Ravenclaw in her sixth-year!

[phoenixyfriend]

HI DO YOU WANT SOME COSTUBE DRAMA THAT TURNED KINDA WHOLESOME

Pt 1: The Drama

Okay so a long-ass time ago (I think like 15 years), a British costume historian on youtube by the name of Cathy Hay decided she was going to remake 'the peacock Worth gown' and started a kickstarter for it. She made a bunch of money, but the actual work ended up being much more than she expected, so the project kept getting delayed.

In the years after, she befriended the now much more famous Bernadette Banner. They got close enough for cross-Atlantic trips to visit, etc. They were best friends and often joked that they were the same person.

Drama started riling up as people criticized Hay for not engaging meaningfully with the problematic history of the gown in question, which had been made for the wife of a British Governor of India during the 19th century, for a party celebrating British imperialism in India, and the gown's shining feature was Indian embroidery which was almost certainly underpaid, and that embroidery was the massively time-consuming bit that had been delaying her this whole time.

It was a whole thing that she sort of? Tried to address? buuuut The thing is, one of the seemingly obvious ways to manage this conflict would be to coordinate with an Indian embroiderer. In fact, a very accomplished specialist did reach out to her about collaborating on this! And she ghosted him! Maybe even blocked, I don't remember, but the thing was that he was ready and willing to do this cool project that could explore and reimagine a beautiful but morally ugly example of their shared countries' histories.

And she just… kept refusing to engage.

And then people started pointing out the weirdly predatory marketing she had for an online product/newsletter she had, and the discourse kept building as people realized overall that she was just… not as good a person as she claimed to be.

It got bad enough that Banner broke off the friendship, in large part because of that refusal to engage meaningfully with the loaded history of the Worth gown project

Pt 2: The Wholesome

So, a few days ago, Bernadette Banner released a video of her making a Regency gown. It's a very standard kind of project for her, just using old patterns and adding a touch of her own gothic tastes with historical methods to make a cool piece of clothing that explores costume history.

Halfway through, she has a call with someone she is planning to do a different video with. We don't know what the video is, but!

The thing is

The person she is having this call with

Is the Indian embroiderer, Mayankraj Singh, that Cath Hay ghosted.

And the video continues on with Banner and Singh talking about her Regency gown project and just. He ends up making an embroidered chiffon overgown with a crow motif. And it just feels very wholesome and I love to see this all coming back around.

(Okay, double-checked and apparently Hay requested a sample from Singh, and then ghosted him after she got photos of it)

In late September, another costumer, Miah Grace, released a video noting that, in 2020, Hay had requested an embroidery sample from with Mayankraj Singh, founder of the luxury fashion brand Atelier Shikaarbagh. Indian embroiderers in this shop possess skills that go back seven generations. Singh reportedly made a sample made but only sent Hay photos of it. After Hay stopped responding for many months, Singh went live on Instagram to explain what happened. Apparently, when his head embroiderer found the sample, he burned it, and scolded Singh for making it. “He said it was an inauspicious design,” Singh said, “and we do not make it anymore.” Hay later apologized to Singh, and he now considers the matter settled. - Craftsmanship Magazine

Anyway, yeah, after all of that from a few years ago, it was kind of exciting to see Banner collaborating with Singh

And she's so excited to open the package! Happy screaming!

It's so sweet.

He had his team embroider their names on the hem And she loves it

I am living for this vicarious excitement

(She does lay it on a bit thick at the end, but you know what. I'll take it.)

OH and the ending involves her attending the ball with Nami Sparrow, one of the creators of Indian background (Indian-American) that was a voice of Expertise criticizing Cathy Hay a few years ago.

Which is like. Tacit endorsement? If Singh alone wasn't enough.

Anyway yeah I lost my mind a little about this.

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Chapter 3/?)

(Sorry! I know it's a day late but yesterday was my family's Thanksgiving so I didn't have time to write sadly. but I got this chapter out today so hopefully it is alright lol)

32 ac Dragonstone 

Rhaella's pov

Me and Rhaena stand side by side as we watch two dragons feast upon horses, pigs, and what seems to be a squid but I can't be sure. We've both been desperate for a dragon, we both have been feeling a pull at our souls for far too long to ignore.

“How do we do this? Especially while wearing such unfit clothes?” Rhaena asks, turning to look at me and our outfits. 

I'm wearing a light blue dress with silver embroidered flowers and dragons along the sleeves, neckline, and hem of my dress. And of course, the necklace Uncle Maegor gave me for my nameday all those years ago.

And she is wearing a lovely dark navy dress with silver embroidery of dragons and stars along the sleeves, neckline and hem of her dress. 

Mama gave them to us only a week prior as a set stating. “You two are so close, you may as well match every once and a while.” 

And to be fair she's not wrong, we both have many ‘friends’, mostly ladies whose fathers wish to get a in with the royal family. But no matter how much gossip, walks in the gardens, or some other mundane activity they bring me or Rhaena's way, we would both pick to play and explore with each other. She truly is my best friend in this whole world. 

“I mean we don't have to fly on them, we just have to claim them, the flying part is more of a special thing to add on. Plus yours isn't nearly large enough to be saddled and ridden yet.” I say pointing to the blue dragon Rhaena had had her eyes on, it is no larger than a horse it would take at least two more years before she could fly upon the beast. 

“Yeah I know that, but you want Meraxes, she is the size of mountains. She could swallow you, me, and my little dragon to be in one fell swoop! So we need a plan, at least for your future dragon.” She says pointing towards Meraxes.

I think for a moment trying to figure out how we can achieve our goal and not be jerky for the dragons this afternoon. I then notice the distance between the dragons, because of Meraxes size compared to the wild blue dragon, it made me believe they were closer than they actually are. 

“There is no need, you go to your dragon, and I'll go to mine.” I say confidently starting to wake down the hill we were watching the two dragons from. That is until Rhaena pulls me back looking scared 

“What if I forget the words? What if you forget the words? What if we both do and we're both fried? What if even though we do everything right they still don't choose us?” She rambles off in such quick succession it is near impossible to understand what she is saying.

“Calm down, Rhaena,” I say gripping her shoulders, making her look me in the eyes trying to calm her down. “Where is my fearless little sister? Surely my little sister will face a dragon. I mean you are the one who pranks grandsire and great aunt Visenya, if you can prank them I think…no, I know you can claim a dragon.” I say which seems to calm her. 

I know I got through to her when I see that fire and mischievous look come back to her eyes replacing the cold and fearfulness that used to be there.

“Alright, let's do this.” Rhaena says before practically running down the halls towards her gorgeous blue dragon. 

Looking at the dragon from this viewing point and not the far distance I usually do, I can see why it has caught Rhaena's attention. It is a beautiful baby blue with silver accents and white spikes and membrane. When its scales are caught in the light of the sun it makes a breathtaking shimmer that appears as if the stars are made by this dragon, and this dragon alone.

My attention is quickly turned though by the colossal that is known as Meraxes by her growl that seems to either shake the ground, terrifies me to the point my knees are knocking together, or both…most likely both. 

I feel as if my very soul is vibrating when looking at the white and gold beast, her scales appear to shift between white and deep silver depending where the light catches them, but her spikes, horns and membrane are gold just like the molten gold of her eyes. She is a gorgeous dragon, one I know will be mine.

I walk closer to her taking slow and calm steps trying not to startle her. The thought rises a giggle from me, for why would this beast large enough to be mistaken as a mountain be frightened by me a little girl of only ten? 

I'm now right in front of Meraxes feeling the warmth of her breath against me, I'm so close with each breath she takes my hair is either pushed into my face or blown past my shoulders. I thought I would feel panic when I came this close to her, but instead I feel a wonderful calmness, a warm and kind feeling, the feeling of being whole. 

I feel her nuzzle against my chest, she is obviously trying to be gentle but when you’re the size she is well it’s quite hard to be gentle. I finally decide to reach out when she starts to purr against my chest. I feel the warmth of her scales, they are smooth with only a bump here or there from her war days. 

I can’t fight the smile that comes to my face at the very thought that I have a dragon. 

I'm startled out of my musing when I hear a cheerful squeal. I quickly turn and see Rhaena doing a happy dance which consists of her jumping and fist-bumping the air. 

“I GOT A DRAGON!” She screams excitedly as her blue beast watches, and I swear is dancing in joy with her if the sway and tail swishes are any indicator.

I start walking towards Rhaena when she starts running over to me and Meraxes. Though I think the dragon wouldn't hurt my little sister, as she probably feels the bond I have with Rhaena, I would rather be safe than sorry. 

Rhaena stops and gives me that mischievous grin of hers before saying cheekily. “So is it fair to assume you tamed that mountain you call a dragon, or am I to wait a bit longer for the flames to leave her maw?” 

I can't help but roll my eyes and giggle, for Rhaena truly is just a cheeky thing always ready with a joke. 

“Yes, I succeeded as well, though I don't know if I want to take her for a fly yet.” I say looking behind me to watch as Meraxes eyes Rhaena curiously.

When I turn back I find Rhaena pouting with her infamous puppy dog eyes. I already know what she's going to ask me before she even asks it.

“Please! Oh please can we fly back to the castle?” 

I sigh looking back at Meraxes trying to decide if I'll give in or not. When I turn back I find I can't give one, for Rhaena knows I know the commands for she and I both take the same classes with the Dragonkeepers. 

Finally, with a groan I nod and start walking towards Meraxes. I know I made the right choice when I hear Rhaena's happy chatter as she talks to her dragon about how she will need to follow us.

I stop and look at the ropes wondering how intact they are after all these years without use and being worn down by the weather upon Dragonstone. But with one touch I can feel their intact and could hold both me and Rhaena easily.

“You go first, I'll be right behind you in case you slip.” I say moving to the side so she can climb up.

She only nods before starting her climb with me quickly following behind her. I feel the burn of the ropes as I pull myself up, it feels as if no time passed from the time my feet were on the ground and I was sitting upon the saddle. 

I try and catch my breath before turning to Rhaena to ask if she is secure. When she nods excitedly wrapping her arms around me I quickly turn around commanding Meraxes to take to the skies.

“Sōvegon!” 

Me and Rhaena scream in delight as Meraxes runs towards the cliff edge before leaping off and extending her wings. When we're in the sky I feel this immediate calmness that comes through me. 

“Look, mine is following us! She listened!” Rhaena says excitedly as she points to her dragon trying its best to keep up with us. 

I smile, nodding, and look forward again, noticing we’re almost to the castle. I search for a spot large enough for Meraxes to land, it takes a bit of time but I find one close enough to the castle that we won’t have to walk far. I barely make out the shapes of Father, Mother, Grandsire and Uncle Maegor as we land. 

They all start running towards us as we slid down Meraxes extended wing. Mother is the first to reach us grabbing both of us by the shoulders and checking for injuries.

“Are you alright? Neither of you are hurt?” She asks before kissing our brows and hugging us close. 

“We’re alright Mother, we both claimed dragons.” I say hugging her back and taking in her scent of oranges and cinnamon. 

“Yes, we can see that, Darlings.” Father says from behind Mother marveling at the sheer size and beauty of Meraxes before turning to Rhaena’s dragon. “Though I do believe that one is wild.” 

Rhaena giggles running over to Father with a smile that could outshine the very sun. “I’m gonna call her Dreamfyre because her scales look like stars when the sun catches them.” 

I’m soon distracted when Mother walks over to the now curious Aegon stopping him from rushing towards the dragons. I turn to search for the one face I was hoping to see after claiming a dragon and it doesn’t take me long to find him as he is already moving towards me. 

“You claimed Meraxes, you have a dragon.” He says with a smile, but for some reason, it seems pinched, forced like he isn’t truly happy. 

Instead of trying to find out why he is upset I decide to answer. “Yes, isn’t she lovely, Kepus?” 

He only hums looking anywhere but me. This confuses me, he has always said I’d claim a dragon one day, that he would be so proud of me when I do, but he doesn’t seem proud he seems angry. 

I get no time to inquire about this strange behavior as his wife comes walking out asking questions about dragons and such. I feel the same ugly feeling I always do when she is with Kepus, the one I never get rid of no matter how hard I try. So instead I turn to pet Meraxes along her jaw missing the way my uncle turns to me with a proud smile that finally showed once he pushed through his jealousy.

Series Masterlist

Special thanks to @sugutoad For making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @sachaa-ff @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl