#the reason is one word: tchaikovsky

[judesmoonbeauty]

IkeVil Act 2 Prologue Thoughts & Theories

This will contain spoilers, and some 18+ remarks at the end, so MDNI. Please see under the cut. As usual, these are just my thoughts and feelings.This is a word salad. And not that this is important or anything, but I was totally listening to Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake while writing this.

My first thought is: That's it?! With the Act 1 prologue being as long as it is, and even with other IkeSeries games like Pri, I felt it was too short. I was expecting and wanting more. Perhaps, Cybird will release more later, but I doubt it. Seems that they are keeping Vogel underwraps as much as they can. Less is more, maybe that's what they were thinking?

Next: The spotlight is on Vogel (as it should be), since they're apparently debuting with Roger's route. We're excited to meet them, still I didn't like that other than Victor and Harry (with his two lines of actual dialogue), no other Crown members had any lines. Their sprites just pop up (sans William because he's away per Victor), to show that they were present. Where is that amazing stare-off that went down in Roger's PV?

Tell me this wasn't it! Hopefully, we get more of their first meeting within the first chapter of each of their main stories. Which leads me to......

When Act 2 Takes Place: It takes place a week after Kate's tenure of being the Fairytale Keeper begins, and honestly, I LOVE that. We need a change of pace. Now, don’t get me twisted, there's nothing wrong with seeing her start her journey from the very beginning, but consider:

Act 2 is supposed to delve deeper into the topic of the Curse itself from what I understand. If that's the case, we need to move things along. It would make storytelling easier (I feel), if Kate has already spent a week with the villains and isn't completely ignorant about curses.

Also, we're moving further along in the routes, which tend to become progressively darker with each route passing (my opinion), not starting from the day after she arrives at the Castle will allow the writers to delve deeper into things, and give us more chapters for - hopefully - more lore.

I mean when Roger's route finally releases, I'd expect maybe some flashbacks in chapter one of the night after Kate bumps into them on their mission, and then she agrees to be his assistant. I don't personally want an entire chapter or three of that, and I would love to see Kate already with a week's worth of experience of working with Jude & Ellis (when Jude's route releases). I want her to be someone who is already capable, not stumbling around with (How do I prove myself?), we already know how she needs to do this, as she's demonstrated in their events. Let's skip that and get to the good stuff. Now about the new meat on the market.....

Darius: Well, we all know that we can't trust him, and he's super interested in William for some reason. I'd love to see that meeting happen. His disappointed face made me chuckle when he was told that William was away, and you can clearly tell that he isn't a fan of Victor. WHY?? Is it the scones? Is it because Victor keeps his precious Cursed babies safe from those who may try to destroy his family? Can't wait for the explanation, because as Victor has said in the past, he doesn't want his time with Crown to end, and Darius seems like the one who is going to end it. I know Darius hasn't done anything yet, but I feel like I need to say this: Don't be mean to Vivi!

He seems to be focused on recruiting other cursed members into his "family", and his vision of the cursed and non-cursed joing hands together and work alongside each other (so he says).

He seems to be the big-bad (Gilbert tragic backstory vibes from this one?), I could be wrong, but that's what my gut tells me. I mean they all have one, but I feel like his is going to be twisted. A type that I am weak for.....so I am trying not to look at him at all.

Anyways....He's certainly angelic looking, and because he's wearing such an obviously painted smile, I would like to see him irked (not that I hate his character or anything), I just think it'd be funny as hell to see a blood vessel pop up on his forehead.

Nica: Right, Nica is gorgeous and he is the one I look forward to the most out of the three. His sprite has teeth when it's a full smile (congrats, my man), and a part from him making a comment that he's happy that Kate is present because he doesn't want to be stuck with a bunch of guys, he's very sharp.

He discerned by himself the real reason why she was at the castle. Also, he seems to love money and power....my other weaknesses are men who enjoy those things (stares at Jude & Silvio).....he doesn't seem to have a tyrant attitude, but I look forward to learning more about him.

Also, I have a theory I believe he may be involved with Roger's betrayal of Ellis' cursed predecessor. In Roger's main route preview:

Roger: Oh, me and…..this person……We aren’t friends. This person and I are strangers.

Mysterious Youth: ….Thank you. - “That’s enough”. (screen shakes)

Now, this could be Ring, but I think it's Nica also because of the relationship chart. I re-read the relationship chart. .

So, it'll be interesting to see how this plays out and how off I am. On to our darling......

Ring: Beloved, sweet, cold, blunt and Disney Princess Ring. He is the next villain I look forward to the most. I mean, a shared cursed ability with your twin? Moody emo vibes? Adorably quiet and strong? Please, I love him and want to cuddle him. Not to mention that skin-tight, black turtle neck....yummy. A part from this, Ring doesn't seem to like making speculations based on limited information, and I appreciate that about him. I think it's also notable that is very upfront with everyone at Crown, that if they try to harm Vogel, he won't sit quietly. Love a man of action. My question is: Why is he Darius' puppet, but not Nica? Ok, last but not least......

Sprite Designs: As usual, Nana-sensei has incorporated symbolism of their fairytale group into their clothing with lots of sharp edges. Personally, I love her art style over all, I think it's beautiful. Of note, Darius has a feather as his belt buckle and I quite like that. His brooch on his neck is the recognizable symbol of Vogel (seems like a swan's head with feathers to me), and the brooch on his floofy coat looks like the face of a swan staring at me. *Ahem* And I think his little neck window could be bigger....just saying.

Nica & Ring both have identical tassels, although they are different colors. One of their tassels likewise feature the symbol of Vogel, but the other looks like cross-hatch marks(?) Feathers(?). They apparently share the same curse, perhaps it represents their shared cursed since they are connected as twins??

They also share swan-faced holster clasps. The one on Nica holds his gun holster, and Ring's holds a book holster (?).....it looks like a book holster. Is it a book about flowers? I mean, it could be a snack pouch, but really it looks like a book holster to me. Just saying.....

Last, but not least, Nica's rings. My first thought: That's hot as hell. Next thought: Shit it's going to hurt like hell when he fingers Kate. This entire time I've been worried over William's and Jude's long ass fingernails cutting Kate up when they enter her, but this this amount of rings (assuming he doesn't remove them), that's going to scrape her so much inside. They're like a toture device.....wait.....maybe he's a sadist too? Oohh, yay if he is! Either way, he is a fan a jewelry.

Well, that's it. There's a ton more that I could write about, but I'm sleepy and I'm rambling.

[Master Lists]

[kingstarkingslay]

Platonic Moonwater Headcannon

Remus was the first friend Regulus made when he joined Hogwarts. Remus knew Sirius and Regulus weren’t on speaking terms ever since Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor and about the abuse the both of them experience at home so he takes the first chance he can get to befriend Regulus. The both of them get along really easily cause they both have a lot of common interests, majorly in books but Regulus only knows wizarding books so Remus starts introducing him to muggle books - literature and poetry. Regulus absolutely falls in love with them and they spend hours talking about them. They’d share notes on them.By now Sirius knows that the reason why Remus spends so much time in the library is cause he’s hanging out with his brother and he loves it cause now he knows his brother is in safe hands. Plus this gives him the chance to keep tabs on his brother through Remus.

Remus and Regulus start confiding in each other. In fact Regulus was the first one to know about Remus’s crush on Sirius. Remus finds out that Regulus loves playing the piano even though it was something his parents forced him to learn and that they actually have a Grand Piano back at Grimmauld Place but Regulus only knows Wizarding Piano Compositions cause that’s what his tutors taught him and you know what his family thinks about muggles….. so Remus then starts researching everything he can about Muggle composers- Beethoven and Mozart, Tchaikovsky and Bach , and he tells Regulus all about them. Once during the holidays Remus found a book called “ The Greatest Pianists ” at a bookstore so he buys it and brings it back with him to Hogwarts and lends Regulus the book, promising him that next time he’d look for a book with piano pieces ( or music sheets ) in them so that Regulus could maybe learn Muggle compositions.

But Regulus never got to return The Greatest Pianists because that was the year Sirius ran away and after that Regulus closed up completely. He stopped hanging out with Remus because of his anger at Sirius, even though he really missed his time with Remus. Remus knew Regulus was avoiding him but he didn’t push it cause he knew the younger Black brother was in pain.

So whenever Regulus was back at Grimmauld Place , he’d lock his bedroom door, take the book out of the little secret compartment he had on the floor under his bed and read it and cry cause he missed Remus. He missed being able to talk to him and spend his time with him. So he’d cry over all the people he pushed outta his life.

But then the letters started coming.

Letters written in a familiar handwriting.

Remus’s handwriting.

In the envelope were two pieces of paper.

One was a small piece of paper with the words “ I thought you’d find these interesting ” written in Remus’s handwriting.

And the other- A music sheet to Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata

Regulus immediately runs to the Grand Piano , rests the music sheet on the piano rack and starts playing the piece. By the time he’s done with it he’s in tears.

The letters don’t stop. Everyday during the holidays he wakes up to an owl dropping a different music sheet on his table and he’s rush to his piano and start playing them. By the end of the day he’d have learnt the piece by heart and could play it without looking at the music sheet.

His parents never found out about the letters cause Remus never signed his name on any of them.

More importantly, the letters were hidden in that secret compartment under his bed, folded neatly in between the pages of The Greatest Pianists.

[icanseethefuture333]

hello! can you do stray kids hyunjin’s ideal type??? thankss

Hyunjin from Stray Kids' ideal type

Qualities

(channeled song: Cherry Bomb by NCT 127)

Hyunjin is attracted to someone who has big dreams and has the yearning desire to achieve them. Someone who has a burning passion for life and willpower to turn their dreams into reality. He also admires a person who has an abundant mindset and the innate sense of creativity. Hyunjin could enjoy dating someone who is also interested in the arts (acting, dancing, poet, singer, etc). It is important that they have a close relationship with their friends as well or has a group of friends that they bond with. Hyunjin in particular is someone who values his friendships dearly and has a strong attachment to them. So if he were to date someone who would betray their friends for an opportunity or ditches them just to spend time with a partner, Hyunjin would be turned off by this. He greatly appreciates someone who never goes back on their word and has friends that support one another. He could also judge someone by their said friend group "Birds of a feather flock together". Hyunjin cherishes his relationship with the other members of Stray Kids as well, so if his partner could get along with them. This would make him very happy

(channeled song: Wannabe by Spice Girls)

"If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends

(Gotta get with my friends)

Make it last forever, friendship never ends

If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give

(You've got to give)

Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is"

Personality

Hyunjin would love, not like, a partner who is confident and knows their self worth. He dislikes when people act like a "groupie" around him or a person who puts themselves down for a partner's approval. For example, if someone were to say "OMGEEE step on me daddy I'm nothing compared to you 😫" Hyunjin would just be like "...wtf? 💀". He finds it tasteless and believes it shows a lack of class. Hyunjin admires a person who shows self respect and has a sense of dignity. Although, he does not mind someone who is shy or nervous (he might actually like that oop 👀😏). Hyunjin enjoys teasing people he finds attractive and is enamored with their reactions. If someone were to actually hold eye contact with him and continue to engage with the conversation instead of pulling away, Hyunjin would fall head over heels for that person immediately ("I folded, I folded, I folded, I folded, I-"). The reason behind this is because it shows security and bravery despite being nervous or feeling under pressure. They would pass the test so to say in his book (I remembered the door test from A Bronx Tale so if you're unfamiliar with that movie go watch that specific scene). (channeled song: Romeo & Juliet by Tchaikovsky) I am getting a vision of him puckering his lips and I also heard kissy noises. So Hyunjin would become like Pepe Le Pew (minus the scandalous behavior 💀) with his partner if he were to experience this interaction. "Madam, j'taime 💋 *continues to profess love in french and repeatedly kiss their face*". Basically Hyunjin finds a person who is noble, charming, friendly, creative, secure within themselves, and "princess-like" (brat tamer?) to be his ideal type. Someone who is sweet but can also stand up for themselves when necessary. A little bit of enemies to lovers dynamic would add to the spice. Hyunjin is very dramatic tbh he is definitely a hopeless romantic.

Physical traits

As I was shuffling I got this aroma of "bubble tea"? It was a sweet and milky scent. So I interpret this as Hyunjin being attracted to someone who seems to have an appearance that is sweet as well as their demeanor.

Dark long hair (he does not have a hair texture preference)

Hyunjin likes to play with his partner's hair or braid it

"Diamond in the rough"

Natural beauty, someone who appears to down to earth.

Soft and approachable

Someone who is unconventionally pretty

"Beauty is the eye of the beholder" their appearance could not be everyone's cup of tea, but it is special to Hyunjin

"I am in need of a muse" one that could inspire him to paint

"Phantom of The Opera", "Black Swan", "The Nutcracker" - Hyunjin could wish to be protective of his partner or be the "darker" counterpart to his lover. So someone who is the opposite of him and is accepting of his flaws. Could have a "pure" presence in comparison

Long eyelashes

Eyes that seem sleepy, melancholic, or pure (Shape or size does not matter, but the feeling behind them. "Eyes are the window to the soul")

Aysmmetrical features (I.E: One eye being bigger than the other)

Unique facial structure (their face shape could be wide, round, or oblong)

"Cheeks" I saw Hyunjin like kissing someone on their cheeks, so someone with round cheeks or chubbier face

Cherry 🍒, this is sensual 😳 so I was getting a visual of someone feeding a person cherries and admiring the way their lips take a bite. So Hyunjin could find someone with plump, darker lips very sexy. Their lip color could be a dark red, mauve, or even two toned.

"Texture" Hyunjin find someone's skin that is considered "dirty" in society's eyes beautiful. This could pertain to freckles, beauty marks, moles, blemishes, and fine lines/wrinkles, whatever it is he just likes it

Stretch marks, I honestly believe Hyunjin has not seen this that often but when he does he feels intrigued by it... ("I would like to see it") Respectfully would want to strip his partner just to see them

I do not believe he has a skintone preference, I am seeing that he is attracted to various shades (I see pale to dark brown but it is interesting because I see it all on one person's skin? So Hyunjin could be open to dating someone who has vitiligo as well)

"Girl next door" clothing style

Jewelry or accessories that have a special meaning (I.E: lockets)

Height is not important to him

Balanced body proportions

Average in weight

Celebrities/influencers who are similar to his ideal type: Devery Jacobs, Emmy Rossum, Tsunaina Limbu, Theresa Hayes, Bae Yoon Young, Musette, Christina Nadin, analfaviu, Meltem Akçöl, Natalie Portman, Poppy Okotcha, jiaoze, Erika Blanc, & elibedy

Fun fact: I felt compelled to listen to music, so throughout the duration of this reading I played classical music the whole time to connect with Hyunjin's energy 🎻

[couldawouldashoulda50]

How William react to Loren getting attention from guys in Sweden? I mean he got lots of love and attention during the summer so she needs some love too and get his ass in gear and make it official lol make him work

Nonnie - I like way you think.

Please don't get me wrong - I love William but I love the idea of someone turning the tables on him a little bit. Not maliciously - Loren is not an attention seeker…but William starts to notice that, whether she wants it or not, she’s an attention getter wherever she goes. I have mentioned before about reading about Taurus traits - they apparently can be a bit possessive and that's sort of how I picture William to be after he's spent more time with Loren.

This is what I imagined:

It was 3:22 AM and William was in a snit. In a mood. Pissy.

Beside him, Loren slept soundly and peacefully. She deserved it—she was completely fucked out. Loren often matched, or even exceeded William's sex drive, but tonight, his appetite for Loren was insatiable. After her last orgasm—where she spasmed so hard on top of him that she flopped over and clung to the mattress like it was her only saving grace—blissful exhaustion swooped in. She had almost passed out in that very spot but she willed herself to go to the bathroom first. The minute she returned, she kissed William appreciatively and fell asleep straight away.

William was tired but sleep wasn't finding him easily. A slew of thoughts began to weigh on his mind. Despite what most people assumed about William's cool and unbothered persona, sometimes things got to him, much like in moments like this.

The time Loren had spent in Stockholm was nothing short of perfect. Her presence was like a breath of fresh air—whether it was a family get-together, or a post-nap fika with friends, or even just the two of them out for a walk or lazing in bed—she just radiated goodness wherever she went. However, the one thing William noticed early on was that Loren stuck out in Sweden like a sore thumb. Her eyes were the colour of dark chocolate and her dark olive skin was that of a Mediterranean goddess. William saw it every single time they walked into a packed bar or club. He may be the reason they were escorted past the line-ups, but all eyes seemed to bypass William and fell upon Loren once they entered.

On one hand, the pride he felt knowing she was there with him… it wasn't just about her beauty. It was the way she carried herself. Her friendliness and kindness towards others. She could be reserved or be exuberant. Display her biting wit or be totally serious. How she could mouthed the words to Eminem and then gush about her love of Tchaikovsky in the same breath.

On the other hand, men, and in many cases women too, fixated on Loren. Women would approach her asking about her hair—her long, wavy mane that naturally gave off a sexy, freshly-fucked look.

But the men eye-fucked her over and over. Loren was slender with curves—seemingly a lethally magnetic combination that they could not avoid. William could mostly handle the gawking and the muttering under their breath about her tits and ass.

But it was when they approached her that he really got his back up.

It's not that he didn't trust her—he did implicitly and without any reservation. It revolved around his own hesitation about making things more official between them. He was still trying to navigate his meteoric stardom and worried about all the temptations that went along with it. So perhaps it was more that he didn't trust himself.

He didn't know what he was waiting for. Until he figured it out, she was very much fair game for other interested parties.

Which led to him sitting in bed in that moment, avoiding the hundreds of DMs and text messages that he received from the myriad friends, past hook-ups, and ones that hoped to be a future option.

Instead, he scrolled through the comments from one of Loren's segments that was edited for Instagram and TikTok. Her videos were picking up traction. Some of the comments were from her target audience, expressing appreciation for her love of languages and her easy-to-follow methods of learning conversational French.

But more and more, there were heart-on-fire emojis, fire emojis, and so on. There were offers to whisk her away for some "private lessons," some guy flaunting his yacht and asking "would she be his personal translator in Monaco," a smattering of marriage proposals, and a good number comments about her looks.

The thoughts of her being with someone else freaked him the fuck out.

William rubbed his eyes and set his phone down. He looked at Loren—she was stretched out on her back with one arm bent above her head. The sheet that covered her had slipped off, exposing her upper half to the cool air in the room.

William, who always ran a little hot, slid his hand along her midriff and then over her breasts. When she stirred from the warmth of his hands, he crawled on top of her, brushing his lips across her skin. Loren smiled and let out a soft moan as she wrapped her arms and eventually her legs around William's body.

She murmured responses to some of his lingering questions. Mainly "Do you actually know—or see—how men look at you?"

Her response was simple. "I don't care if men look at me like I'm this or that. I only care if you look at me that way."

He smiled against her skin.

Fuck, she really is a keeper, he thought.

[thecreaturecodex]

Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni

“The Mouse King” © deviantArt user MalakiaLaGatta, accessed at her gallery here

[”The Nutcracker and the Mouse King” by ETA Hoffmann is much darker and weirder than the more famous ballet it inspired. It’s mostly to do with the machinations between rival magical kingdoms and the Mouse King’s extortion racket for Christmas presents. As opposed to the ballet, which is fully half plotless dances based on ethnic stereotypes. I do enjoy Tchaikovsky’s The Nutcracker, but let’s be honest. The Mouse King in the story is much more monstrous, having seven heads. For practical reasons, this is usually dropped from adaptations. A Soviet animated version compromised with three heads, and designs with that number are much more common than the full set.

The character has no name in the original story, just a title. We do get his mother’s name: Mouserinks. She’s the one who cursed the prince into being a nutcracker in the first place, and the Mouse King is hunting him to prevent him from turning back. My name for the character is derived from a Tamil word meaning rat or mouse. Since I’m making him a rakshasa, and different adaptations vary in what species he’s supposed to be, I figured that it was appropriate. The flavor text may draw some inspiration from the recent OGL unpleasantness.]

Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni The Mouse King, The Rat King Concerns greed, gluttony, rodents Domains Animal, Evil, Law, Trickery Subdomains Fear, Fur, Greed, Tyranny Worshipers evil ratfolk, extortionists, misers, wererats Minions rakshasas, rat kings, swarms Unholy Symbol seven crowns stacked in a triangle Favored Weapon rapier Obedience gorge yourself on fine food and drink for 1 hour. Despoil any leftovers so no one else may benefit from them. Gain a +4 profane bonus on saves against disease Boons 1: summon swarm 2/day; 2: hunger for flesh 2/day; 3: heroes’ feast 2/day

Rakshasa Immortal, Korittunni CR 21 LE Outsider (native) This humanoid stands smaller than a human and has seven rodent heads, arrayed facing in all directions. They are clad in a fancy military dress uniform, carry a fine saber, and wear a crown on each of their heads.

Korittunni the Mouse King is one of the least of the rakshasa immortals, but that does not make him any less dangerous or destructive. He is obsessed with things: taking them from other people and destroying them if he cannot take them. No object is below his acquisitiveness; he enjoys stealing toys and candy from children as much as he does jewels or magical items from the wealthy and powerful. He rarely works alone, and surrounds himself with sycophantic ratfolk, ver, wererats and other rodent-like humanoids. Most of his elite agents are other rakshasas, typically with rodent features in their natural form.

Korittunni often is the one to initiate hostilities, but if he can take what he wants through intimidation, trickery or mind-controlling magic, he does so before fighting. His teeth are strong and powerful, but he usually fights with a dueling sword. He is a master of bardic magic, weaving spells and magical dance together in order to augment his own abilities and those of any of his minions. Korittunni often leaves his victims alive but humiliated, cursed or polymorphed, as a warning to others who would cross him.

The Mouse King’s kingdom is a vast subterranean city, from which he plots robbery and extortion. Many criminal gangs pay him protection money, and in turn he helps to supply them with tools and talent from his own reserves. And doesn’t just wipe them out and steal from them. Korittunni is a dangerous partner, however, as he will often make the terms and conditions of his deals more and more restrictive, until his allies are little more than slaves. He can be charming when he wants to, but his default mode of expression is to threaten and bully. He is something of a mama’s boy and speaks fondly of his own mother, although whether she actually literally existed as he describes, or is a composite character based on dozens of reincarnations, is mysterious.

Korittunni is only two feet tall, but no less dangerous for his size. He always carries a magic rapier capable of stealing magical defenses and a rod of splendor.

Korittunni           CR 21 XP 409,600 LE Small outsider (native, rakshasa) Init +14; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +29, scent Defense AC 38, touch 22, flat-footed 27 (+1 size, +10 Dex, +1 dodge, +14 natural) hp 420 (29d10+261) Fort +17, Ref +26, Will +22 DR 20/epic and piercing; Immune death effects, disease, petrifaction, poison, polymorph; Resist acid 20, cold 20, electricity 20, fire 20, sonic 20; SR 36 Defensive Abilities all-around vision, evasion Offense Speed 30 ft., climb 20 ft. Melee +3 spellstealing rapier +43/+38/+33/+28 (1d4+9/15-20), 7 bites +35 (1d4+3) or 7 bites +40 (1d4+6) Special Attacks bardic performance (59 rounds/day, swift action, countersong, deadly performance, dirge of doom, distraction, fascinate, frightening tune, inspire competence +6, inspire courage +4, inspire greatness, inspire heroics, soothing performance, suggestion), detect thoughts (DC 35), voracious Spell-like Abilities CL 20th, concentration +31 (+35 casting defensively) At will—bestow curse (DC 25), contagion (DC 25) 3/day—greater command (DC 26), greater teleport, nightmare (DC 26), quickened phobia (DC 27), ravenous rodents 1/day—demand (DC 29), mass hunger for flesh (DC 28), polymorph any object (DC 29), prediction of failure (DC 29) Spells CL 20th, concentration +31 (+35 casting defensively) 6th (7/day)—mass cat’s grace, mass cure moderate wounds (DC 27), greater scrying (DC 27), irresistible dance (DC 29), pied piping (DC 29) 5th (7/day)—cloak of dreams (DC 28), greater dispel magic, mind fog (DC 28), nightmare (DC 28), seeming (DC 26) 4th (7/day)—dominate person (DC 27), freedom of movement, hold monster (DC 27), legend lore, pessimism (DC 27), sleepwalking suggestion (DC 27) 3rd (7/day)—cure serious wounds (DC 24), fear (DC 24), glibness, haste, mass feather step, sculpt sound 2nd (8/day)—blur, gallant inspiration, heroism, invisibility, quick change, silence (DC 22) 1st (8/day)— charm person (DC 24), comprehend languages, cure light wounds (DC 22), identify, saving finale, undetectable alignment 0th—detect magic, ghost sound (DC 21), light, lullaby (DC 23), prestidigitation, read magic Statistics Str 23, Dex 31, Con 28, Int 25, Wis 22, Cha 32 Base Atk +29; CMB +34; CMD 55 Feats Combat Casting, Combat Expertise, Combat Reflexes, Dodge, Extra Performance, Greater Spell Focus (enchantment), Improved Critical (rapier), Improved Initiative, Iron Will, Mobility, Quicken SLA (phobia), Spell Focus (enchantment), Spring Attack, Step Up, Whirlwind Attack Skills Acrobatics +31, Appraise +25, Bluff +36, Climb +32, Diplomacy +18, Disguise +40, Escape Artist +31, Intimidate +29, Knowledge (arcana, engineering, dungeoneering, local) +25,  Knowledge (planes) +27, Perception +29, Perform (act, dance) +32, Sense Motive +27, Spellcraft +25, Stealth +35, Swim +24, Use Magic Device +29; Racial Modifiers +4 Bluff, +8 Disguise, +2 Perception Languages Common, Goblin, Infernal, Senzar, telepathy 300 ft. SQ change shape (humanoid or rodent, polymorph), rakshasa lord traits Ecology Environment urban and underground Organization unique Treasure triple standard (rod of splendor, +3 spellstealing rapier, other treasure) Special Abilities Bardic Performance (Su/Sp) Korittunni can use bardic performances as a 20th level bard. Rakshasa Immortal Trait (Ex/Su) Korittunni is a rakshasa immortal, a powerful unique outsider capable of granting spells. This also grants him the following abilities

Immunity to death effects, disease and poison

Resist acid, cold, electricity, fire and sonic 20

DR/epic

Telepathy 300 ft.

Korittunni’s natural weapons, as well as any weapons he wields, are treated as epic, lawful and evil for the purposes of overcoming damage reduction.

Ravenous Rodents (Sp) This spell functions as a creeping doom spell, except that the swarms summoned appear as rats and mice. The swarms have the animal type instead of the vermin type, and do not have the poison special attack. Instead, they gain the voracious ability (see below) and deal damage to unattended objects in their area as well. This is the equivalent of a 7th level spell. Spells Korittunni casts spells as a 20th level bard. Voracious (Ex) Korittunni’s bite attacks deal double damage to creatures with the plant subtype, and to objects made out of plant materials such as paper, wood and most cloth.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Technique–bodily control - must be mastered only because the body must not stand in the way of the soul’s expression. The only reason for mastering technique is to make sure the body does not prevent the soul from expressing itself.

La Meri

One of the most striking sequences for the Swan Queen is her series of 32 fouettes in Act III of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. Odile, the dangerous but seductive anti-heroine, returns to the stage near the climax of her grand pas de deux with the hero, Prince Siegfried, and revolves on one leg 32 times. Moreover, after the first 16 bars, the music changes character; she carries on regardless.

“Fouetté” is French for “whipped,” and it’s that whiplash motion of the raised leg that gives the turn its brilliance. That quick up-and-down of the ballerina’s foot sometimes sends her traveling downstage; but the ideal sequence of 32 fouettés never travels from a single spot. A ballerina whips one leg in a circular motion to the side and then into a passe while turning and rising on and off of pointe on the standing leg. In other words her raised leg, never touches the ground, but provides most of the propulsion. Men can do fouetté turns, too. But part of the excitement with a ballerina is that she does most of the turn on point.

The 32 fouettés aren’t the hardest assignment in ballet, but they’re the most exposed example of virtuoso technique. If something goes wrong, the audience will see. I remember one ballerina falling flat on her backside around turn No. 14 and several who stopped (or switched to another step) after about 20.

Italian ballerina Pierina Legnani first performed 32 consecutive fouettes in a performance of Cinderella in 1893. When she originated the role of the Swan Queen in Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov’s version of Swan Lake in 1895, Petipa added in the 32 fouettes specifically for her.

Performed by the Black Swan, Odile, the spellbinding turn sequence effectively demonstrates the power and drama of the dark side of the Odette/Odile dual role. Legnani’s legendary performance of the fouette sequence as the Swan Queen set the standard for ballerinas to come.

It's surprising to learn that some great ballerinas who avoided doing them: Anna Pavlova, Alexandra Danilova, Alicia Markova, Maya Plisetskaya did alternative steps. Margot Fonteyn, who delivered them for over 34 years in Swan Lake, laughed in her memoirs about how an American critic described her wandering path during them as her “Cook’s tours of the stage."

 Let's be clear performing 32 fouettes in a row represents the incredible skill, technique, and control of a prima ballerina. The step requires strength and stamina that can only be gained through years of dedicated ballet training. Even more than a century after Legnani’s balletic feat, the Swan Queen’s 32 fouettes continue to captivate audiences in productions of Swan Lake worldwide.

But I will whisper it quietly that I agree with one ballerina friend of mine at the Paris Opera Ballet that it can be boring to watch. Not the technique but the spectacle. The rare artist is not the one who does the most turns but the one who makes them interesting and, above all, musical.

Amandine Albisson, Danseuse étoile de l’opéra de Paris, dances as Odile in the Opera Paris production of Swan Lake.

[beautiful-basque-country]

Why do you say Basques laughing at their own surnames is a sign of assimilation 🤔?

Kaixo anon!

First, why would anyone laugh at a surname, their own or other person's? I honestly can find no reason. Why, because it sounds funny in your language? Because it's akwardly long or full of vowels or full of consonants compared to what you're used to? And if that's the case, what are we? 5-year-olds that need to laugh at silly things? I really can't understand or excuse the laughter at anyone's surname.

That said, I say it's a sign of assimilation because some Basques laugh at Basque surnames because tHeY aRe So LoOoOnG wItH mAnY lEtTeRs ThAt MaKe ThEm HaRd To SaY, but the joke is only on Basque surnames. No Castilian long names are mocked. No jokes on hyphenated surnames that just keep going, right? Because that's Spanish, that's normal, there's nothing to laugh about them. Now Basque compound surnames are united in one instead of hyphenated resulting in long words for a Spanish speaker? Hahahahahahahaha, omg, those Basques are so hillbilly, look at the absurd surnames they wear, and they pretend me to say that??? Pffffff, I'll call them a random Basque name and that's it.

If a Basque has that mentality - that our surnames are to laugh at because they're so long and hard to say they're nothing but a joke - that Basque has been assimilated, heavily. It's been colonized enough to laugh at their own roots, at their own culture, accepting another one as their standard, and being ashamed of how weird their culture is.

And again, if Spaniards can correctly pronounce Schwarzenegger, Schweinstaiger, Tchaikovsky or Mamardashvili, they also can pronounce Iruretagoiena, Pagatzartunduagoienengoa or Agirregomezkorta.

At least that's how I see it.

[volterran-wine]

Lost, but not forgotten || 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 (𝗛𝗖)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ @mywinterivy : "THE TIME HAS COME- forgive me for the influx of requests coming, I’m very excited

I absolutely loved your headcanons of the Kings with an artist/theatre/musician mates, and I was thinking of something:

You know how famous artists and writers (Van Gogh, Dickinson, Poe, Bach, etc.) died relatively unknown only for their work to become popular later? Imagine the King’s mate being some kind of artist (painter, actor, singer, composer, etc.) who’s art wasn’t recognised by the time they faked their death/turned into a vampire, only for their work to be ‘rediscovered’ a few years/decades afterwards and become famous.

(Documentaries are made, exhibitions, people recognise paintings/music playing on the first/public floors, movie or tv adaptations of their novels, etc.)

How would the Kings react? I feel like the mate may have some mixed feelings about it, flattery, bitterness, embarrassment, pride, annoyance, gratitude? How would they deal with that?"

I do indeed understand where you come from. Sadly so many of our great artist’s do not see the appreciation they deserved in their lifetime, only for us to gobble it up now. Personally I would hope this was my trajectory if I was blessed with immortality, I would enjoy it immensely. 

!𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍��𝐒! None.

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰.

—  𝐀𝐑𝐎

Their art was in fact the reason they met in the first place. Aro had always been a patron of the arts, willing to sponsor all artist’s he saw great potential in. When he had spotted them in their cramped atelier he had known within his non-beating heart that they would be a star. When fame did not find them in the years to come he grew worried, for the life of an unsuccessful artist was cruel at best. They had been a few months from deaths door when he turned them, and the coming days they mourned their human life of supposed failure together. 

The king had offered to have their works transferred to Volterra but they had refused, swearing to never paint again. The words stung, but Aro remembered how his brother had exclaimed something similar after finishing his magnum opus; they would paint again... he was sure of it.

About five years later during warm summers night, Caius returned to the palazzo with a cheshire grin upon his lips. Beneath his arm he held a painting, carefully wrapped and of a decent size. It came as a surprise that it was in fact one of the works Aro’s mate had abandoned in their haste to escape their mortal life. But the greatest shock came when Caius announced he had paid over 2000 Crowns for it. 

It took a while before they began creating art again, but slowly they regained that fire of inspiration that had engulfed them as a human. Aro breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Love, you must paint me!” “... Aro I have painted you sixty times the last twenty years.” “But I had Renata trim my hair ever so slightly, I am practically a new man.” “I would argue all of us are expired, but I will retrieve my art supplies; a sketch will have to do” “You wound me.”

He would certainly get a lot of joy out of visiting museums and exhibitions featuring his significant other. All through the day he would make sure to study the works of art and ask for his mates opinion on them. It would take a good while, but his mate would finally relent and play along; the end of the evening filled with much laughter.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

—  𝐂𝐀𝐈𝐔𝐒

The king had been front row to witness many composers make their debut, most of them did not impress him in the slightest. Humans had a way of either overcomplicating their works, or creating something so simple that a child could have played it. Personally he had always been fond of Tchaikovsky. So when he first saw his soon to be mate on the stage he had not had the highest expectations. How wrong he had been.

Humans did not share his appreciation however, not for a long time. His mate was well into their immortality when they were hailed as a long lost female that rivalled the greats. 

Though it was quite a hassle, Caius had a piano installed in his art studio to make sure his mate could work on their craft at the same time as him. There is nothing he adores more than listening to them play as he paints. At this point there are quite a lot of paintings depicting them in front of the instrument in clear concentration. 

It is their music that plays on the first floor of the palazzo, many a tourist has recognised the composer and the receptionist cheerily replies the owners of the building are quite fond of them. Sometimes new and mysterious tunes are played over the speakers, little do they know that a beloved composer is still making music to this very day.

“Play a concerto with me.” “Love, are you sure you wish to do that? Your skills with the violin put my piano to shame” “Nonsense.” “Caius-” “I shall fetch my Stradivari. Prepare your ‘Winter’ movement.” “Yes, Sir.”

Whenever Caius has a particularly difficult time due to nightmares that still plague him, it is his mate’s music he fills his private quarters with. In those precious moments he is able to close his eyes, finally being able to simply exist without worry. He leaves a kiss filled to the brim with desire on their lips the next time he sees them.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

—  𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒

In the beginning the two of them had laughed about it, twenty years had gone by since he had turned his second chance at love; perhaps they would finally be appreciated for their creativity once their corpse lay rotting in the ground. The jokes were all well and good until a new guard wandered into the palazzo, one of their belongings? A first edition of Marcus’ sweet mate’s first novel.

It did not take long before Marcus’ mate began writing again, beginning with short stories and poetry they began dedicated to the various inhabitants of the palazzo. Soon enough they had their own section in the library The Volturi is known for.

Though the couple rarely leave the safety of the palazzo, when they do; there is always room for stopping by a library or bookstore to look at their name on the shelves. Sometimes it is bittersweet, but most of the time it brings a sense of joy to Marcus’ mate.

What his significant other is unaware of, is that the king has secretly been collecting all editions of their written works that have been in circulation. Though they continue to write personal prose, poems and books within the safe walls of Volterra; there is something especially beautiful about seeing all the languages his beloved’s stories are translated into.

“Will you not read me an excerpt of your first novel?” “Marcus.” “Hmm?” “I have written far better stories after you turned me, why not one of those?” “They do not contain your humanity, and there is something sweet you do not capture in the same way. It reminds me of when we met.” “Fine, I will read it for the 658th time” “659th actually.”

One evening Marcus would drily suggest they should audition to play themselves in an upcoming biopic, the suggestion was promptly shut down with a glare and it ended up being difficult for Marcus to rein in his boisterious laughter.

[rhetoricandlogic]

BOOK REVIEW: Cage of Souls, by Adrian Tchaikovsky

May 22, 2019

Alex Hormann

The sun is dying. The Earth is all but dead. The last of humanity is clustered in a single city, as corrupt as it is vulnerable. But Stefan Advani has bigger problems. . .

I’ll cut straight to the point. Cage of Souls is the best book I have read so far this year. It’s bleak, depressing, brutal and with barely a drop of hope contained within its numerous pages. But that doesn’t subtract from the fact that it is vivid, wildly imagined and utterly brilliant.  For some reason I thought this was going to be a novella, and I am so glad it turned out to be a full-length novel. Because the story and idea within really need that extra depth and investigation.

We open with our narrator being shipped off to an island prison for vague crimes against the state. Cowardly and well-educated, Advani relies on both of these traits to keep himself alive. A task not made easier by dangerous wildlife, murderous inmates and a tyrannical Marshal who’d rather see the whole lot of them dead. The prison itself is as dangerous as any of the prisoners. A rusting mass of pumps and cages that appears to serve no purpose other than to get people killed.

Tchaikovsky’s future Earth is a uniformly bleak one.  Outside the prison and the lone city of Shadrapar, the world is all but uninhabitable. There are deserts that will burn you, jungles that will poison and eat you, and a toxic, plastic-choked sea that holds only death. It’s a world that has turned against humanity, a fact that most of the human race appears to have accepted. We have become a species that no longer looks to the future, because there probably won’t be one. A sense of darkness pervades the entire book that’s enough to keep you up at night, and give you nightmares even if you do drift off.

As he settles in to prison life, Advani slowly reveals  the events that led to his incarceration. As you’d expect, it’s not exactly happy reading. But it’s a change of pace that keeps you reading for just one more page. And then one more chapter. And then the whole book. These flashbacks to Shadrapar’s more cultured life are so far removed from prison life that they almost seem to be from another book. But rather than being disjointed, this only amplifies the sense of loss that fills the narrative.

One of the things I enjoyed most was the use of book-as-artefact. That is to say, Advani’s memoir exists within the world of the book. It adds another layer to the story, knowing that he himself considered the events important enough to record in text. While this technique lets the reader know the narrator survives, it allows for more intimacy than a regular first-person narrative. Playing with the unreliable narrator, while also directly addressing the reader, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the style used quite so well.

While I wouldn’t go so far as to call the book a wake-up call or use that dreaded word ‘timely’, the world is definitely informed by the ongoing conversation around the climate crisis we are currently facing. I can’t say that the book is an accurate depiction of where our species is heading (and I certainly hope the future can be a little brighter) it’s a worrying-enough possibility to make you think. Think, and fear. It would be easy for a setting like this to become nihilistic, but Tchaikovsky avoids that pitfall. Instead the book reads more sombrely. Like a lament for the future of human civilisation.

Adrian Tchaikovsky is one of Britain’s greatest living SF writers, and here he is on the top of his game. A serious contender for book of the year.

[ofmays]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ❍﹒𝙼𝙰𝚈 𝚂𝙰𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙴. history major &&; stereotypical brooding bookworm : house pulgasari's vice captain with an expertise in BLOOD MANIPULATION and RBF. . . he also really loves tchaikovsky and wine ( ONLY RED !! ) and will one hundred percent talk your ears off about the rise and fall of marie-antoinette &&; the roman empire — the roman empire IS his roman empire !!

hi everyone !! really excited to get to writing with everyone and learn about your muses all the more !! i'm finn ( he/they, 24 ) & i'll be writing MAY while staying here !! here are some direct links to may's PROFILE, his ANOMALY and his unfinished PLOTS page that i'll definitely get to in due time !! ( here's a quick rules page too for reference !! ) below this i'll leave a tldr on his background and ability, feel free to like this post if you're interested in plotting, but be warned that i'm going to be messaging each and every one of you anyways !! :3c

tw: small mention of blood/animal death !! i tried to be as brief as possible so apologies for the word vomit fr...

⠀ ❍﹒ current : brief about may as of now !!

may "kwanchai" sailee — don't call him kwanchai though...nobody does... !! currently 25 and is a taurus sun, cap moon and sag rising to anyone who knows what that means !! he is currently on his post-graduate year of history and is house pulgasari's vice captain (its very srs to him ok ??) he's known to be a hermit and keep to himself, mostly tucked away in corners of the library or campus. he love love LOVES classical music and what he studies, don't ask him about his interests or he won't shut up !! oh, and definitely don't ask him about his anomaly or he'll try to k*ll you with his brain . . .

⠀ ❍﹒ background : he doesn’t really have a tragic backstory tbh…all of his current problems stem from his distaste for his anomaly and what kind of person it makes him !! below i’ve left some trivia points i guess ?? just to get to know him better !!

— may is born to two loving parents in bangkok, thailand as their first son, a product of their pre-arranged marriage. he has one older sister and one younger sister. although his parents would disagree, he’s incredibly spoiled by them and is their secret favorite child (for some reason…) they are incredibly wealthy due to may's father's involvement in the fuel industry.

— throughout his youth, he attended only the best of the best schools and after school activities. he picked up ballet at a young age and excelled at it along with his studies. he still loves ballet to this day, but is far too dedicated to his current major: history, to pick it back up. he settles on watching drama rehearsals for now. a certain hamlet is just way too eye catching for him to look away…

— he learned of his anomaly at age eleven when a mouse was caught in a trap at home. he didn’t like seeing the mouse in distress, it evoked something in him, and the next thing he knows he’s directing blood back into its wound, steady, steady…until the pressure became too much and he near explodes the creature in his palm, killing it. since then he’s had a distaste for his ability and only uses it on himself.

— blood based anomalies run in his family, and while may has never been shamed for his ability, he was instructed throughout his life to keep it a secret while he attended high ranking schools. little did may know that it would prove to be incredibly difficult to keep his ability to himself due to his blood empathy, and soon enough his parents realized that it wouldn't be easy to hide it. in search of answers they found nuvilli, a drug currently in production. along with providing generous donations to the drug itself, and later to seoul university for anomalies, may was admitted to the university on the base of a scholarship, but to anyone else he basically paid his way in.

— may is extreeeemely anti-social...like really anti-social, and it's mostly to protect his own mental health with his blood empathy, nothing personal !! (most of the time) he gets a bad reputation for his overall attitude and anomaly; most would see him as intimidating(? or something similar!) and weird. he's actually really sweet under it all though, he has a lot of love and care to give !!

— being the vice captain of pulgasari is like a full time job to him /srs. he seemingly becomes a whole new person while taking part in games and meetings; entirely more confident. it's the only time he actually gets to show off his anomaly without feeling like a freak for it !! he's known to be pretty involved on field during games-- he's kiiind of an ace but he definitely won't say that about himself . . .

❍﹒ anomaly : a brief breakdown !!

may has a blood manipulation ability, he can use it for blood-bending and blood links, and suffers from blood empathy as a by product. he can only use blood for bending (from himself and from others) when it is visible. he's kinda really ashamed of his anomaly and doesn't talk about it a lot or use it :/ his main weaknesses are sight proximity and water !!

❍﹒ plots : a few quick ones i just thought of rn !!

— tutor may where may tutors your muse and helps them with school work ?? he's very studious and likes to help others when it comes to school work !! he also has a lot of extra time to himself due to being in his post-graduate year of uni !! (less days for a whooole lot more work to do) this is one of those plots where may will actually force himself to be social . . . — house pulgasari members plz plz plz !! self explanatory but maybe they get to see a different more confident side of may !! — his one and only sole ex that ruined his mental for months after they broke up because he swore he wouldn't get into a relationship for that EXACT REASON but he did it anyways and it went way worse than he could have ever anticipated !! both of them probably sucked like it was bad for both parties . . . — people who also live in the yellow hall !! self explanatory again >< — those who are in different houses than house pulgasari...they probably don't like may and may doesn't like them either...a fun competitive plot :3c — overall just people that get on may's nerves and visa-versa !! he has a very short temper and doesn't have a lot of patience for people, this paired with his anti-socialness does NOT make him the most pleasant person to be around on a surface level fdghdf

ok shutting up for now but if you have any ideas for plots please do not hold back, may is very dependent on them for connections !!

[peppymintdreams]

uh hello peppy I like your work a lot. I wanted to request if my OC could be made out into a fic I saw that in one of your post you mentioned and I was wondering if you could maybe write it (it’s fine if you don’t want to I was just wondering) her name is Lira she’s pale a tad bit introverted graceful I’ll send more to you in your DMs if you okay with that but

the idea I had was

Sir Andrew is philosopher in literature and teaches the youth but an older student one who appears no more than three years younger then him attends his classes. Everything about this student seems so intriguing their flawless skin the delicate voice it reminds him of a swan Sir Andrew logs down his fascination in this student of his and he notices his student has began to disappear more and more frequent, rumors around the village speculate that student is a witch or a cursed being and enchants men to drag them

I hope you can write this maybe thank you

Mint Jesus christ- damn this is long (that’s what she said) damn my child yall need to summarize this shit or send me your whole…essay of the Bible to me via DMs…

Hmmm this is interesting and based on the information you gave me…I can make this work

A Swan's Cry

Andrew Marston x Lira

Sir Andrew, a literature philosopher, becomes captivated by a mysterious student whose ethereal beauty and frequent disappearances fuel rumors of enchantment or a curse.

Sir Andrew was a man of reason, a philosopher well-versed in the works of the greats. As a literature professor, he had always taken comfort in the certainty of his books and the logic of his teachings. But the moment they walked into his classroom a student unlike any other that comfort began to unravel.

The student was quiet, almost ethereal in presence, with skin as pale as the winter moon and a voice so soft it reminded Andrew of a swan’s song both fragile and haunting. Their name? Lira, a name as delicate as the person it belonged to. Lira was no more than three years younger than Andrew himself, and yet there was something ancient in the way they carried themselves. They sat at the back of the class, always attentive, eyes gleaming like the surface of a still lake. But what fascinated Andrew most wasn’t just their beauty, nor their apparent intellect, but the way they seemed to vanish.

At first, it was subtle Lira missing the occasional lecture, leaving before classes ended, slipping away without notice. Andrew might not have cared, had the student not been so mesmerizing, so different from the rest. As the weeks passed, the absences grew more frequent, and rumors began to stir in the village.

“She’s not human,” whispered the baker’s wife one day as Andrew passed by. “Some say she’s a witch.”

“A cursed creature,” said another, eyes wide with superstition. “They say she enchants men, luring them to the lake where she drags them beneath the water.”

Andrew dismissed the gossip as village nonsense, but the more he saw of Lira and the more he didn’t see the more the words wormed their way into his thoughts. He began to write about Lira in his journals, not as a student, but as an enigma. He became obsessed with finding out more about them, piecing together the fragments of who they were. Where did they go during those long absences? Why did they leave so abruptly, as if carried by the wind itself?

Andrew finds himself intrigued by Lira more than any student he has ever had. He takes note of the way she walks, the grace in her movements, how she carries herself with the calm of someone who knows that the world bends to her will. Yet, it is not just her physical presence that draws him in; it is the mystery surrounding her.

He begins to log down his fascination in a private journal, as though trying to understand the enigma she presents.

March 10th, 1X—

"She arrived late again. Her eyes, a strange mix of indifference and sorrow, never seem to meet mine, but I can feel her presence in the room. She does not ask questions, nor does she answer much when spoken to. But when she does speak, her voice is so soft, it feels like it might vanish on the breeze. Today, she was absent for an entire week, and I wonder where she goes. What does she do when she is not in the classroom? The others notice her silence, but they do not understand what I see. She is... different. Like a bird that should not be caged."

One evening, while staying late at the university to finish grading papers, Andrew caught sight of Lira from his study. The student was walking towards the woods that bordered the village, their slender form fading into the fog that clung to the earth like a veil. On impulse, Andrew grabbed his coat and followed.

He kept a safe distance, his heart racing as he trailed Lira deeper into the woods, his logical mind battling with a creeping sense of dread. The further they went, the more the rumors replayed in his head cursed, enchanted, not of this world. It wasn’t long before they reached the lake, the surface of the water smooth and black beneath the moonlight. Andrew watched from behind a tree as Lira stepped to the shore, their hands trembling slightly as they stood at the water’s edge.

And then it happened.

With a graceful, almost unnatural motion, Lira began to shed their clothes. But it wasn’t the sight of their exposed skin that sent a chill down Andrew’s spine, it was the way their body began to change. Slowly, elegantly, as if woven by magic, their arms became wings, their body shrinking and reshaping. Before Andrew’s very eyes, Lira transformed, their human form giving way to that of a swan, the silver shoes that had adorn their feet in their original form, still embellished her feet even in the form of a Swan. A creature so pure and haunting it felt as though the world had fallen silent.

Andrew’s breath caught in his throat, his mind racing to make sense of what he had just seen. Lira the student he had been so captivated by was not just a person. They were the swan, the very creature from the old legends, a being cursed to live between two forms, one human, one bird. The rumors had been right, but not in the way he’d imagined.

For several moments, Andrew stood frozen, watching as the swan Lira spread its wings and drifted across the lake’s surface, a creature of both beauty and sorrow. His fascination deepened, but so did his dread. What was Lira’s fate? Were they truly cursed? And if so, who had done this to them, and why?

Days passed after that night, but Andrew could no longer look at Lira the same way. In class, they seemed more distant than ever, their eyes heavy with the weight of their secret. Andrew tried to approach them, but every time he got close, Lira would vanish, slipping away like a dream at dawn.

Eventually, the pull was too strong. Andrew sought them out, late at night, returning to the lake where he had first seen the transformation. There, he found Lira, once again standing at the water’s edge, their expression full of sorrow.

“Lira…” Andrew whispered, stepping forward. “I know what you are.”

Lira’s eyes met his, filled with a sadness that pierced his soul. “You shouldn’t have followed me.”

“I had to,” Andrew replied, his voice trembling. “Why? Why are you—”

“I am cursed,” Lira interrupted, their voice breaking. “Long ago, I angered someone powerful. Someone who could bend the rules of this world. They turned me into this… this creature, bound to the form of a swan by day, only able to walk in human skin at night.”

“Can it be undone?” Andrew asked, desperate.

Lira shook their head, their tears blending with the mist rising from the lake. “Not without a sacrifice.”

Andrew’s mind raced, torn between his growing feelings for Lira and the impossibility of their situation. “What kind of sacrifice?”

“A life for a life,” Lira whispered. “The one who loves me most must be willing to give up their own life to break the curse.”

Andrew stood silent, his heart heavy. He knew in that moment that he cared for Lira more than he had ever admitted to himself. But could he make that choice? Could he give up everything for the fleeting hope of saving them?

The days following Andrew’s encounter with Lira at the lake felt like a slow descent into an abyss. He couldn’t stop thinking about the curse, the impossible choice Lira was faced with, and the heart-wrenching sadness that lingered in their eyes. But there was no time to dwell on his feelings; the village, it seemed, was beginning to turn against them.

The whispers had started as mere rumors, harmless gossip passed from one person to the next, like the soft flutter of wind through leaves. But as time passed, the whispers grew louder. A chilling wind of suspicion began to stir through the streets of the village, and every passing day seemed to bring new voices to the chorus of doubt.

“She’s a witch,” they said. “A cursed creature.”

“They say she makes men disappear, drags them under the water,” someone would add, their voice quivering with fear. “She’s not human.”

Andrew had heard these rumors. He had seen the fearful looks from townsfolk as they avoided Lira in the streets, the sharp whispers that followed her every step. But it wasn’t until one fateful afternoon that he realized just how deep the hatred had sunk into the hearts of the villagers.

Andrew had been walking to the local market when he saw them. A group of villagers, led by the blacksmith’s son, marched toward the woods. There was fire in their eyes, a righteous fury that made Andrew’s stomach turn.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low, trying to keep his presence unnoticed.

“They’re going after her,” the blacksmith’s son, a burly man named Roderick, said with an eager sneer. “We’ve had enough of her. The witch needs to be dealt with.”

“What do you mean, ‘dealt with’?” Andrew demanded, his voice shaking with disbelief.

Roderick glanced at him with narrowed eyes. “You don’t really believe in that nonsense, do you? She’s not just some strange girl who’s a little different. She’s dangerous. The things she’s done, the way she makes people disappear…” His tone became more sinister. “She needs to be stopped before she harms anyone else.”

Andrew’s heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to shout, to stop them, to reveal everything he knew about Lira, to defend her from this growing tide of hatred. But the words caught in his throat, weighed down by the knowledge that he was too late. The villagers had already made up their minds. They had already condemned her.

“No,” Andrew said, his voice fierce, but it faltered under the pressure. “You can’t. She’s not what you think.”

“Enough of your nonsense, Andrew,” Roderick barked, shoving him aside. “Stay out of this. It’s for the good of the village.”

As they disappeared into the trees, Andrew felt a cold emptiness settle in his chest. He couldn’t stop them. He couldn’t change their minds. And worse still, he had no idea where Lira had gone. Had she heard them? Did she know what was coming?

That night, as the moon rose high over the lake, Andrew found himself standing at the water’s edge once more. His thoughts were a chaotic whirl of fear, guilt, and desperation. He needed to warn her. He needed to protect her.

But as he stepped into the woods, he heard the sound of voices angry, yelling voices growing louder. He hurried toward the source, his heart pounding in his chest.

He found them at the lake, the villagers gathered around the water’s edge, torches in hand. The blacksmith’s son stood at the front, a cruel smile stretched across his face.

“There she is!” Roderick shouted, pointing toward the water. “The witch!”

Andrew’s stomach churned as he caught sight of Lira, standing at the water’s edge, her face pale and full of sorrow. She had heard them. She knew they were here.

“Lira!” Andrew shouted, rushing forward, but the crowd blocked his path.

“She’s no witch, you fools!” he cried, his voice breaking. “She’s not dangerous. You don’t understand she’s cursed!”

But the villagers were deaf to his words. They had already made their decision. The fear, the superstition, the years of whispered rumors had all led to this. They were convinced that Lira was the source of their misfortune, that she was the one who had caused the disappearances, the strange deaths, the accidents.

Lira stepped back from the water, her eyes meeting Andrew’s. She didn’t seem afraid. No, she was resigned, as though she had been waiting for this moment all along.

“They don’t understand,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the crowd. “They never will.”

Roderick raised his torch high, his eyes alight with malicious excitement. “Burn her! If she won’t burn, she’ll drown.”

Andrew’s heart stopped. The mob was pushing forward, closing in around her. Lira stood still, her body trembling, her arms outstretched as though she were ready to surrender to whatever fate awaited her.

“No!” Andrew shouted, throwing himself into the crowd, but they shoved him aside with ease, too many hands to fight against.

Lira’s form flickered. Slowly, almost painfully, she began to transform before their eyes. Her limbs shifted, her skin turning pale and fragile as the feathers of her wings began to unfurl. In a single, fluid motion, she became the swan, a beautiful creature of grace and sorrow.

But even as she took flight, the villagers didn’t relent. They threw their torches into the air, aiming to strike her down, their voices rising in a collective frenzy. They believed her to be a monster, a threat to their safety and their way of life.

Andrew collapsed to his knees, his heart breaking. He had failed her. In his attempt to protect her, he had only pushed her further into danger. She had vanished into the night sky, but the hate of the villagers remained, and it was spreading.

The sound of the swan’s cry echoed across the lake, a haunting, mournful wail that seemed to carry all of the pain and sorrow of Lira’s curse. And Andrew, standing alone in the dark, could do nothing but listen.

The night after the villagers had attacked, the air in the town was thick with whispers, as though the very walls of the buildings held secrets that nobody dared speak aloud. The moon hung high in the sky, pale and heavy with the weight of the events that had transpired. Andrew could barely bring himself to leave the safety of his home. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t shake the image of Lira her wings, her cry fading into the night sky.

The whole village had erupted into chaos, their superstition and fear culminating in the most senseless of hunts. Lira was no longer the mysterious, enchanting student he had once admired from afar. She had become something darker in the eyes of the villagers, something dangerous, something that had to be destroyed. The whispers had escalated into the open, and what had once been quiet judgment had now grown into an unrelenting demand for blood.

Andrew could feel it all, every ounce of that pressure, pressing down on him. Lira wasn’t just a mystery anymore; she was a symbol, an embodiment of everything the townspeople feared. And it was all because they couldn’t see her for who she truly was.

But what they hadn’t seen, what no one had known except Andrew, was that Lira wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t some dark magic conjured by ancient forces. She wasn’t evil, or cursed by wicked intentions. No, Lira was a creature of nature delicate and beautiful, but powerful beyond measure. And as he stood at the lake the following evening, staring out across the glassy surface, he realized just how much he had failed her.

The town had chased her away, maybe even driven her into hiding. But she would never be gone from his heart. He would find her. He had to.

Andrew knew the moment he saw her.

She appeared at the water’s edge, a silvery figure gliding across the surface, her feet barely making a ripple. The moonlight caught her feathers, illuminating her in a halo of light. For a moment, Andrew thought he might be seeing things perhaps his mind had begun to play tricks on him in the wake of the chaos. But no, it was her. Lira. Or the swan that had been her all along.

She moved with the grace of someone born to this world, as though the water had always been her home. Every step she took across the lake was fluid, effortless, as if she were walking through air itself. The water didn’t break beneath her; it parted gently as she moved, as though it were welcoming her.

Andrew’s breath caught in his throat as he stepped closer, his feet soft on the wet earth. She was so close now, within arm’s reach, but she didn’t notice him yet. Her eyes were focused ahead, her expression both sad and serene.

"Lira," Andrew whispered, his voice hoarse, trembling with emotion.

Her eyes flickered, her steps slowing until she finally turned to face him. The moment their gazes locked, a deep sorrow passed between them, and for a brief, impossible moment, Andrew thought she might speak. But no words came. Instead, she tilted her head as if weighing him in her mind.

“Lira,” Andrew said again, a soft plea in his voice. "You don't have to hide from them. They don’t understand. You don’t have to do this alone. Please"

But before he could finish, she stepped back, her feet barely brushing the water’s surface. Her wings were so magnificent, so wild flared outward, catching the breeze. They were sharp and pure, like something from a dream. Her delicate, haunting beauty was both ethereal and unreachable. She was a creature of the water, and she was beyond the world Andrew lived in.

“I don’t belong here,” she said, her voice a soft murmur, carried by the wind. The words seemed to come from some place deep within her, like a secret only the water knew. “They’ll never understand. They’ll never accept me. Not for what I am.”

Andrew stepped forward, desperate. “Don’t say that. You’re more than what they think. Lira, please, don’t go.”

But as he took another step, something in her eyes shifted, something that told him she was already slipping away.

“I can’t stay in a place that fears me,” she said, her tone distant, almost resigned. She turned her back to him, her bare feet gliding across the water once more. She didn’t walk on the surface as she had beforeno, she danced, the water flowing in perfect rhythm with her every move. She was part of the world now, part of the night, part of something too beautiful for the village to understand.

“You can’t change them, Andrew,” she continued, her voice growing faint. “You’ve tried. But I’m not meant to stay. I’m meant for something else... somewhere else.”

Andrew felt the bitter sting of realization settle in his chest. He was losing her. In trying to protect her, he had only driven her further away. He had failed, and now he was standing in the remnants of what could have beena love that could never survive in a world so full of hatred.

“No, Lira. Please, don’t go,” he begged, taking a step forward, his voice cracking with raw emotion.

She paused mid-step, her body almost floating above the water as she turned to face him one final time. Her eyes glistened with the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts. And in that moment, Andrew saw the truth the truth he had tried so desperately to ignore.

Lira wasn’t just a student to him. She wasn’t just the girl who captivated him with her delicate beauty, her unearthly presence. She was a part of something greater, something untouchable. And no matter how much he wanted to fight for her, no matter how much he loved her, he knew there was no place for them in this world.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and with a flick of her wings, she soared into the night, disappearing into the vastness of the lake, leaving nothing but ripples in her wake.

Andrew stood there, alone at the water’s edge, his chest heavy with the unbearable weight of her absence. The villagers had driven her away, their fear and hatred had forced her to retreat, to become something even more unreachable. He couldn’t protect her. No one could. And now, all he had left was the memory of her swan’s crythe haunting song that would forever echo in his heart, no matter how far she flew….

-Fin

Hey…hey yah you 🫵🏾 do you want more Sakuverse gay shit well hit that follow button or turn on notifications and send a request and you can get all the gay shit you ever want and brand new fics of Sakuverse Reimagined Twist Of Fate and maybe a chance to have your OC in a story

[masonhawthorne]

What I read in March

Hoo boy, it's taken me a while to get around to this again, huh? I want to say March was a busy month, but it's too much of a blur for me to remember what was going on. I feel like I was climbing a lot (I've taken up rock climbing, have I mentioned?) but otherwise, I have no clue where March went.

Anyways, I got some good reading done!

Edge of Infinity, ed. Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Analysis & Critique: How to Engage and Write about Anything, Dorsey Armstrong ⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Will of the Many, James Islington ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

And Put Away Childish Things, Adrian Tchaikovsky ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Gold Coast, Kim Stanley Robinson ⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Best Science Fiction & Fantasy of the Year Vol 11, ed Jonathan Strahan ⭐️⭐️⭐️

New Rules & Guidelines From HR for Working with Humans (ss), Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Angel (ss), Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Martian: Lost Sols (ss), Andy Weir ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Forever Peace, Joe Haldeman ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Merciless Waters, Rae Knowles ⭐️⭐️

Dune Messiah, Frank Herbert ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Cursed Heart, Derin Edala⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Lair of the White Worm, Bram Stoker ⭐️

Pacific Edge, Kim Stanley Robinson ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Phytophthora Nosferatu (ss), J Corvine ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Minty Fresh, J Corvine⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Labyrinth of Dreams, Derin Edala ⭐️⭐️⭐️

Angels Before Man, Rafael Nicolás⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Lure, Tim McGregor ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The Fascination, Essie Fox ❌❌❌

There were a couple of surprises for me this month, some were nice surprises, and some were...somewhat less than nice surprices. It's good, gotta have some surprises to keep you nimble.

The Will of the Many by James Islington was the first surprise, I had thought I'd like it well enough, the concept seemed interesting, and it turns out that it was actually fantastic. A smooth take on the dystopic genre, with a great attention to detail, and handling of social forces on the characters. The scifi elements might have come off as a bit silly if they'd been handled less skillfully, but over the course of the novel the real horror of the hierarchy becomes ever more apparent. Also it ends on a killer cliffhanger--where is the sequel??

A slight disappointment was that The Gold Coast and Pacific Edge, books two and three of Kim Stanley Robinson's The Three Californias Trilogy were...just not quite as good as the rest of his work that I've read. I found that TGC focussed too much on the 'futuristic party boy hedonist' archetype that I find stultifying in fiction, and while the surrounding worldbuilding was interesting I just could not stand any of the characters.

PE on the other hand was kind of...boring? Now don't get me wrong, I love boring books, but it was boring in the sense that I was reading it feeling like 'ok now when's the story going to happen?' there are only so many softball games which are metaphors for small town politics and romantic relationships that I can sit through. The other problem with PE, I think, is that it is aggressively middle of the road. In the other California novels, the protagonists have Forces to Push Against, but PE is set in a kind of idyllic postcapitalist cooperative, where small town politics is the biggest thing going on and the main conflict of the book can be solved with a strongly worded awareness campaign. Like I GET what was being done, but I also feel like this one could have been a third as long as it was and carried the same weight, but perhaps with fewer softball games.

Dune: Messiah was a nice surprise, I only read Dune last year, and I really enjoyed it, but I've only ever heard that the series goes downhill after the first one. Absolutely not! I'm really looking forward to reading the rest of Frank Herbert's Dune books!

The two real clunkers this month were The Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker, and The Fascination by Essie Fox. Both for similar reasons, actually. There was a whole lot of racism going on, in ways that were, y'know, disappointing but not surprising from a guy writing shock novels a hundred-and-something years ago, but really pretty upsetting from a novel that was published in 2023 and has lots of very positive reviews.

Having read several Stoker books now, I found that there was little of the sort of charm that I've come to expect from his writing. The characters were kind of flat and unpleasant, and the antagonists were evil for the sake of being evil. I'm actually surprised that this is one of his later works, because it reads as so much less sophisticated than the other things I've read.

The Fascination was the gift that kept on giving, if the kinds of gift you like are things like racism, ableism, and biphobia which seem bad at first, and then keep doubling down on themselves. The book also has an air of smug superiority, presenting sequence after sequence of exploitation dreck and then turning smirkingly to the reader like 'see I bet you assumed [something racist, ableist, biphobic, etc]'. The end of the novel hinges on a big reveal, which is that...one of the focalising characters has a disability. Which should, apparently, reframe how we've understood the character from the beginning, and which should shock us out of our assumptions that people with that disability couldn't be main characters. Or something.

I think it takes a lot of work to write something that makes the disability representation in Game of Thrones feel subtle and nuanced.

There was so much wrong with The Fascination that I could probably spend another several paragraphs listing them, but to be honest reading the book was unpleasant enough, I don't really feel like spending my evening reliving all that. My final criticism is that the book is insufferably twee and self satisfied. There was not one sentence that made me think that it was worthwhile to read.

To end on a positive note, all of the indie books and stories that I read were delightful! I've included links to most of them above, and it's really refreshing to read stuff that is smart, well written, and which actually has something interesting to say, even if that something is 'hey wouldn't it be super fucked up if there was a vampire in your flower bed?'

Anyways, that's enough for this month!

[hey wait, psst, did you know, I've got a novelette? It's available now: https://books2read.com/u/3kOvKn ]

Stars awarded at my whim

ss=short story

[cassowary-rapture]

Tchaikovsky re: Piano Concerto No. 1:

I played the first movement. Not a single word, not a single remark! If you knew how stupid and intolerable is the situation of a man who cooks and sets before a friend a meal, which he proceeds to eat in silence! Oh, for one word, for friendly attack, but for God’s sake one word of sympathy, even if not of praise. Rubinstein was amassing his storm, and Hubert was waiting to see what would happen, and that there would be a reason for joining one side or the other. Above all I did not want sentence on the artistic aspect. My need was for remarks about the virtuoso piano technique. R’s eloquent silence was of the greatest significance. He seemed to be saying: “My friend, how can I speak of detail when the whole thing is antipathetic?" I fortified myself with patience and played through to the end. Still silence. I stood up and asked, “Well?” Then a torrent poured from Nikolay Grigoryevich’s mouth, gentle at first, then more and more growing into the sound of a Jupiter Tonana. It turned out that my concerto was worthless and unplayable; passages were so fragmented, so clumsy, so badly written that they were beyond rescue; the work itself was bad, vulgar; in places I had stolen from other composers; only two or three pages were worth preserving; the rest must be thrown away or completely rewritten. “Here, for instance, this—now what’s all that? (he caricatured my music on the piano) “And this? How can anyone …” etc., etc. The chief thing I can’t reproduce is the tone in which all this was uttered. In a word, a disinterested person in the room might have thought I was a maniac, a talented, senseless hack who had come to submit his rubbish to an eminent musician…. I was not only astounded but outraged by the whole scene. I am no longer a boy trying his hand at composition, and I no longer need lessons from anyone, especially when they are delivered so harshly and unfriendlily. I need and shall always need friendly criticism, but there was nothing resembling friendly criticism. It was indiscriminate, determined censure, delivered in such a way as to wound me to the quick. I left the room without a word and went upstairs. In my agitation and rage I could not say a thing. Presently R. enjoined me, and seeing how upset I was he asked me into one of the distant rooms. There he repeated that my concerto was impossible, pointed out many places where it would have to be completely revised, and said that if within a limited time I reworked the concerto according to his demands, then he would do me the honor of playing my thing at his concert. “I shall not alter a single note,” I answered, “I shall publish the work exactly as it is!” This I did.

[saintavangeline]

what are some of your fav artists (painters, poets, musicians,...) or which ones inspire you the most ?

Mentally and emotionally speaking, the person who inspires me the most is Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables).. so I suppose the author of the series, Lucy Maud Montgomery. The main reason I started writing music in the first place was because of how much Anne inspired me to share from the depths my heart. She was always so passionate in what she believed in, who she loved, how she felt. I loved how she could find the beauty and romance in anything and everything, and she was never afraid to show everyone her truest self and heart, even if she was frequently misunderstood by those around her. I think we would be kindred spirits if she were a real person.

I’ve always been incredibly inspired by set designs from 80’s/90’s dark fantasy movies. I’m not sure who designed these sets, but I write with a lot of that imagery and emotion in mind.

My favorite poet is and has always been Stephen Crane. I love literary realism, and his work has definitely inspired a lot of my thinking. I also love Flowers of Evil by Charles Baudelaire for imagery.

Musically, I’m very inspired by Vic Fuentes (his lyricism is just otherworldly), Ben Gibbard (also an incredible lyricist), and Hitomi Kuroishi (specifically her Angel Feathers album - she has the most heavenly angelic voice). I love reading lyrics to metal songs - they are some of the most poetic lyrics I’ve ever seen written. I also love Tchaikovsky, because I can feel him in his music, even if no words are spoken in his pieces.

Continuing with music: I have what’s called chromesthesia, where I can essentially hear color, and so a lot of my inspiration musically comes from the colors that certain pieces emanate. When I write, I always write with a color palette in mind. Writing and singing are just like painting to me, and I’m very particular with the exact words and colors I want to use. I love musicians that are consistent with their color palette (even if they don’t realize) in their songs if that makes sense. They inspire me most in terms of color.

[adarkrainbow]

Disney fairytales: Sleeping Beauty (2)

# Beyond adding more plot complications and tension, the confusion between the prince/man in the woods, princess/peasant girl is also here to highlight something important for this movie: the concept of “true love”. Prince Philip is in love with the girl of the woods without caring about her social class, he is ready to abandon his kingdom and marry a simple peasant girl - while a scandalous behavior from the point of view of his father, it is actually here to highlight that the love prince Philip has for Aurora is so strong it can make him break social and royal codes (though of course, the idea of this “true love” is a bit undermined by the fact they barely talked to each other, don’t even know their name and met in real life only once - without counting the strange “dream” topic). 

# Oh so apparently the story happens, per Philip’s own word, somewhere in the fourteenth century... Very interesting. 

# One thing this movie did that people often forget is that it actually broke down and undermined the whole “girl suddenly becomes a princess” fantasy. Despite Disney’s marketing actually promoting “becoming a princess”, in this movie specifically Aurora is actually broken by this sudden revelation. Becoming a princess doesn’t bring her any kind of happiness, as she has to abandon her old life and never see again the boy she loves - she sees her “royal duties” as a burden and a punishment more than anything. 

# So in Disney’s version, it is Maleficent that creates the cursed spindle and then hypnotizes Aurora into touching it. This was lifted from Tchaikovsky’s ballet, in which Carabosse, to ensure her curse, disguises herself as a cloaked stranger and offers the princess a spindle - given all were destroyed at her birth, the girl marvels at the strange object and touching it, pricks herself. In Perrault’s tale, the spindle belongs to an old woman living in a small attic in one of the tallest towers of the castle: visibly forgotten by everyone, she never was warned of the spindle-ban. The princess fascinated by the object wants to touch it, and she pricks herself, as Perrault say because she was 1) a bit too energetic 2) a bit air-headed 3) the fairy spell ordered it. He lists those three reasons in this specific order. And unlike what many people think, the old woman isn’t the old fairy in disguise, as she is genuinely panicked upon seeing the princess faint and calls for help. 

# I didn’t thought I needed to mention that but yes, “Briar Rose”, the alias of Aurora in the woods, is the German name of the Sleeping Beauty given by the Brothers Grimm version. 

# In the Disney version, nobody knows that the princess was struck by the curse - in fact, if the fairies put everything and everyone to sleep, it is to hide this fact. In Perrault’s tale things go in a very different way: the king is immediately notified of the curse his daughter befell and he is the one putting her in a special room of the castle. The good fairy arrives then and, to prevent the princess waking up alone in the castle a hundred years from now, puts everything asleep - except for the king and queen who actually bid farewell to their daughter and leave their castle, to keep on ruling their kingdom. It is something that the Tchaikovsky’s ballet tried to avoid by actually having the good fairy put the entire kingdom to sleep for a hundred years. (The Brothers Grimm, in comparison, did a much sloppier thing by having the entire castle falling to sleep due to the curse of the spindle, not the good fairy’s action, with king and queen inside - something sure to cause a big socio-political change or crumbling in the kingdom). 

# It is also very interesting to see that Disney changed one of the underlying themes of the original tale: fate. In the Disney movie it is the good fairies that fight and try to prevent Maleficent’s curse with all their might ; but in the original tale, the good fairy did nothing more than soften the curse and then help once it happens. She never tried to prevent the event from happening - it was the king, the humans that tried to avoid the princess’ fate. This ties back to the old Greek myths in which gods delivered prophecies and humans, by trying to avoid them, only hastened their fulfilling. Instead of Perrault’s tale of fate, Disney, by expanding the role of the Good Fairies, actually turned Sleeping Beauty into the story of a magical fight between the forces of good and evil. 

# In the same way the Good Fairies try to undo the curse, Maleficent is also seen trying to make sure the curse will never be broken: it becomes apparent that she is aware of how Merryweather modified her spell (something not present in Perrault or Tchaikosvky - especially in the ballet where Carabosse does believe she managed to kill the princess), and tries to prevent the love resolution by capturing the youth Aurora fell in love with (who, to her surprise, turns out to be Prince Philip). 

But during the scene between Maleficent and Philip in the dungeon, we have another important element unfolding itself and further twisting the original narrative: Maleficent reveals to Philip the real identity of the girl he loves, where she is, under what spell she is put, and how to save her. Why on earth would she tell him that, after putting so much effort into having the girl fall into her eternal sleep? As she reveals... because she plans to torture Philip with it. She plans to keep Philip locked in her castle for a hundred years - and to only release him then, to fulfill his prophecy, as a worn-out old man. As it turns out, Disney changed the original one hundred-year structure of the story into Maleficent’s evil plan to, in her own word to mock, fight, vanquish the idea according to which “true love conquers all”. Quite a twist that the “original” tale becomes the wicked plan of the antagonist. It is also interesting to note that 1) Maleficent uses the term “love’s first kiss” for the waking up of Aurora (again bringing some confusion with Snow White’s “love first kiss”, and 2) she uses some meta-references (similar to the Grand Duke in Cinderella) by mocking the prophecy tying Philip’s and Aurora’s fate with the term of “charming fairy tale”. Even though the anachronism can make sense as here she is talking of a LITERAL fairy tale, orchestrated by both Maleficent and the Good Fairies. 

# In Maleficent’s castle, the “celebration” for Maleficent’s “victory” takes the shape of an obvious “witch sabbath” - with the grotesque goblins dancing around a fire while the devil-like Maleficent oversees everything. The parallels to the sabbaths is pushed even further by the fact that this dance sequence is actually almost identical to a dance sequence in the “Night on the Bald Mountain” sequence of Disney’s Fantasia.

# Another difference of design and behavior I want to point out: Maleficent, with her magical staff, moves slowly, with majesty and patience, either walking or teleporting without moving - a difference to the wand-wielding Good Fairies who actually constantly fly around, run around and tend to go very fast. And one last contrasting detail: the Good Fairies are clearly associated with “good weather” (appearing in ray of sunshines and turning boiling oil into rainbows) where Maleficent is represented by a stormy weather (uses lightning as weapons and her curse takes the shape of thunder clouds)

# A thing many people have noted is that the Good Fairies of “Sleeping Beauty” are the culmination of the “important sidekicks” of Disney. The culmination because in this movie... THEY ARE THE REAL HEROES! So many people pointed out how they basically carry the plot and the fight on their back, and they do everything! We spend more time with the good fairies than with Philip or Aurora. They are the ones who work to protect Aurora as a baby, they take other the mother-daughter relationship with Aurora, they are the ones who rescue Philip so that he can in turn rescue Aurora - and even then, they are the ones who shield him from most of the obstacles and who give him all the tools he needs to vanquish his enemy - in fact, Flora is the one who ENCHANTS PHILIP’S SWORD SO THAT HE CAN KILL MALEFICENT! They are the real heroes who do anything, and while prince Philip is certainly brave, Flora’s word about how “You alone will have to face those dangers” sound shallow and hypocritical when two third of the fights were done by the fairies themselves. 

Mind you, the idea of the fairies being the sidekicks and helpers to the Prince as he fights the wicked fairy was taken from Tchaikovsky’s ballet... but still. 

# We have, once again, Christian overtones with the magical weapons Flora gives Philip: an “enchanted shield of virtue” and a “mighty sword of truth”. “Weapons of righteousness which will triumph over evil”. ... Do I need to say more? Of course, Maleficent herself invoking “all the powers of hell” at the very end before her big transformation also cements her demonic/diabolical nature.

# Merryweather turning the pet raven of Maleficent into a stone statue is another interesting detail of the “fairy lore” built by this movie. In the beginning of the movie Merryweather wanted to turn Maleficent into a toad, but her “sisters in wands” reminded her that it was impossible because their magic was limited to doing good things that can make people happy and joyful. Merryweather grumbled “It would make ME happy...” and thus was just brushed off as a joke. But here, we see that it wasn’t such a joke: Merryweather turns the raven into stone, not the most “good” thing... but she can do it because precisely, it makes HER happy. It is a clever way to bypass their own limitations.

# Disney without a doubt heavily popularized the idea that it was the wicked fairy that had a “forest of thorns” grow around the castle to prevet people from reaching it. In Perrault’s tale, it is the Good Fairy that makes grow in a few hours a thick and dense forest filled with thorns to prevent anyone from disturbing the hundred years sleep - and the forest opens up for the destined prince when he enters. In fact, the “hostility” of the thorn-wood seems to come from the Brothers Grimm version of the tale: in it, after the curse/spell puts everyone to sleep, a “thorn hedge” grows around the castle on its own (which is different from Perrault’s tale in which it was primarily a forest that happened to be chocked with thorns) ; and in the violence typical of the Grimms, it is said that many princes tried to rescue Briar Rose, only for them all to “get stuck” in the thorns and get trapped in them, unable to be rescued and “dying miserably” - to the point that when the prince arrives near the thorn hedge people only know it as a deadly element of the landscape filled with corpses. Mind you, the hedge still opens up in a flowery path for him... So yes, the fully hostile, evil, blocking thorn-wood is a Disney invention.

# While there was a final confrontation between the Prince and the Evil Fairy in Tchaikovsky’s ballet, Maleficent turning into a giant dragon is another one of Disney’s additions: not only does it fit with the “medieval” feeling of the movie, as many medieval tales describe knights and heroes fighting dragons ; but it ALSO works for the Christian overtones of the piece as those medieval knights VS dragons stories were often Christian allegories, the dragon-killers being heralded as saints or champions of Christ where the dragons, beyond just being symbols of chaos and dangers, became demonic entities (or representatives of the “pagan” world). 

In fact I do believe that this movie greatly popularized the idea that fairytales were about “knights killing dragons” - because when you look at ACTUAL fairy tales... there isn’t many dragons in there. Dragon killing stories are rather medieval stories (as described above) or local folktales ; OR mythological legends. But fairytales never had a big omnipresence of dragons - there is a few dragon slayings, but they’re not as predominant as giant-killing or witch-killing for example. 

[corner-stories]

on edge

Armin Arlert. Annie Leonhardt. Collisions. Skating. Awkward Conversations. Figure Skating AU. 2235 words. (ao3.)

Annie Leonhardt’s coach reminds her that ice time is precious and too valuable to be wasted. So when she arrives at the rink in the early hours of the morning, her mind is focused on only one thing and one thing only. 

Other dedicated skaters in her age group filter into the rink as she does, most accompanied by parents who look just as groggy as their children at this time of day. 

Annie keeps her headphones on as she stretches and practices a few off-ice jumps. The zamboni is smoothing out the ice as she works. Sometimes she’ll look away from her meticulous routine and glance up to see the driver. She’s gotten quite used to seeing her father on the vehicle — he’ll even wave to her on occasion with the same glum expression on his face. Even this early, his resting bitch face remains the same. 

But Annie’s used to seeing the grumpy old man performing such an integral task. Ultimately, he does what he does to support her career — driving the zamboni every morning in exchange for coaching discounts has been the edge she’s always appreciated. 

Once Annie laces up her skates and gets onto her ice, she can feel her worries becoming moot. A part of her — one plagued by stress, loneliness, and doubts — fades away as she glides. She’s never been able to explain it, but it’s helped her through every lutz and every loop, every sit-spin and every euler, every waltz jump and every flip. 

Annie’s rinkmates file onto the ice with her. The dancers and pairs skaters are moving hand-in-hand, while the other singles get lost in their own world as they warm up. 

As Annie keeps her distance, she only glances up briefly to get a look at everyone else. 

Pieck Finger seems to have the energy to chat her partner’s ear off as they get into the zone, but Porco Galliard doesn’t seem to mind. Historia Reiss is standing near the boards as she chats with her coach, who is already awake and ready to give notes on her triple salchow. Mikasa Ackerman has a focused look on her face as she skates next to her partner, and in contrast Jean Kirschtein still looks uneasy as he keeps up with her. Annie doesn’t know the whole story, but perhaps the excitement and newness of a partner switch had yet to fade off for him, despite having skated with Mikasa for the last two months. 

Then he comes to the ice. 

Annie glances up to see a familiar head of blond hair stepping onto the rink. Armin Arlert says a thank you to his grandfather at the boards before he glides towards the center of the area. 

And just like that, Annie feels a knot forming in her stomach. 

Unlike the stoic determination of Ackerman or the perky energy of Finger, Armin is somewhere in the middle as he eases onto the ice. He is neither chipper without reason or so focused that all joy saps from his face. Instead, Armin looks free. 

Annie tries to avoid his gaze whenever she passes him by, instead looking towards the bleachers, where her father sits next to Grampa Arlert. 

She tries to distract herself by recalling her choreography. Her coach had finally let her do a program to her favorite Tchaikovsky Waltz, but only if she worked on her musicality and facial expressions. Instead of arguing on whether the judges would deduct points for her lack of smile as she skated, Annie took Coach Zeke on the deal and promised to follow through. 

She only has a few minutes to practice her triple-triple combination until Zeke arrives at the rink. After landing her flip and just barely needing to touch the ice to steady her landing, she glides backwards on one skate as her body stabilizes herself. 

In her mind, she goes over absolutely everything that went wrong, from the way she didn’t hold her arms inwards enough during the spin or popped her lutz on the first attempt. She tries not to think about how her father is no doubt watching from the bleachers, or how Historia must be getting an explanation as to how Annie ranked half a point under her at last year's nationals. 

Suddenly, Annie hears a voice behind her. 

“Whoa, whoa!” 

Turning around, Annie is brought to the face of Armin Arlert. This time, the knot in her stomach tightens for completely different reasons.

The two manage to come to a halt, the blades of their skates turning the ice below into snow. Armin has to put his hands up to fully stop, his hands touching Annie’s shoulders to prevent them from colliding. 

“Sorry about that, Annie, I wasn’t looking!” Armin says, his tone sounding unendingly apologetic. 

The stoic face that Annie usually holds during morning practice falters, but only slightly. Her gaze goes soft as she looks towards Armin. 

“It’s okay,” she replies in a voice that is quiet and gravelly. 

When she glances around the rink, Annie can see the other skaters paying attention to them. Mikasa comes down from a curve lift in Jean’s arms, then looks over to the duo of blondes with genuine concern. Even Historia stares at the pair in the aftermath of her double axel-triple lutz combo, the puzzled look on her face saying it all. 

When Annie looks at Armin again, she sees his cheeks turning red. He takes his hands off her shoulders and stumbles back slightly. 

He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Uh… hope I didn’t hurt you…”

Before Annie can say anything, she sees Coach Zeke entering the rink in the corner of her eye. He doesn’t look particularly enthused this morning, as he practically drags his feet across the floor and holds a coffee cup like it’s his lifeforce. 

It gives Annie extra incentive to not waste time, so when her gaze meets Armin’s again she says the first thing that comes to mind. 

“...I have to go.” 

And with that said, Annie turns around and skates off. At least her blush on her face fades away by the time she meets Zeke at the boards.

…

…

…

An hour of harness work to perfect her triple toe loop-triple salchow goes by with ease. Zeke is extra pushy today, meticulously pointing out the flaws in her footwork between elements. The half point that lost her gold at last year’s nationals seems to be nagging at his brain harder than hers, something that makes him even more stern as he watches her skate. 

But Annie’s good at taking it, even when she falls more than she would like. 

At least when practice is over, she finds herself actually looking forward to spending the rest of the day at school. 

Annie steps off the ice and finds a bench to sit on. As she unlaces her skates, she can see her other rinkmates either cooling down after a session or practicing their elements off-ice. Seeing Porco lifting Pieck in the air with a single arm is just one of the things that Annie has gotten used to over the years. Pieck even smirks and waves down to Annie like it’s the most normal thing in the world. 

As Pieck jokingly sings about how she’s had the time of her life, Annie leaves the rink and heads for the locker room to retrieve her things. 

With her gym bag slung around her torso, she nibbles on a protein cookie as she enters the building’s concourse. A text from her fathers tells her that he’s getting the car, as he had parked far away due to not finding a space in the actual lot. 

If there were three certainties in life, then it would be death, taxes, and Albert Leonhardt complaining about parking. 

Annie exits the rink and waits by the doors. Moments pass as she finishes her post-training snack. Her body is aching and it makes her dread the conditioning session that awaits her tomorrow. She’s not sure what will hurt more, her core or her hip flexors. 

As she waits, she looks up to the sky and sees the sun just barely rising in the cloudy horizon. Michigan at this time of year is slowly transitioning from winter to spring, but the chill still permeates the air and makes Annie blow on her fingers to keep herself warm. 

Before she can put on her headphones and block out the world, she feels someone tapping her shoulder. 

Annie turns around fast and Armin puts his hands up in surprise. 

“Whoa! Uh, hi…” he stammers out. “Uh… just wanted to check in and see if you were alright… again.” 

There is a beat as Annie recollects herself. She tries to pinpoint why she’s so on edge this morning, but for the life of her she can’t. 

On the ice, Armin Arlert is the embodiment of grace and balance. His slender frame glides across the surface with ease, effortlessly leaping and transitioning into spins, which are undoubtedly his speciality. 

But off the ice, Armin is nothing more than a skinny high schooler in a parka that’s a size too big. His blond locks are mussed and his disposition is nervous, a far cry from the usual composure he shows in his craft. 

“I’m fine,” Annie manages to say. “Thanks for asking, Armin.” 

“Good to know,” he replies, nodding along. “Nice sal, by the way.”

Annie avoids his gaze. “I’m still popping it.” She prays to god that he didn’t catch her eating shit on the ice during her harness work.  

“You’re on the way though, especially after the triple toe,” Armin assures. His voice is lighthearted as he speaks. “I’d give some pointers, but Zeke seems to know what he’s doing.” 

“That’s one way to put it,” Annie says dryly. Awkwardly, she looks down and keeps avoiding his eyes. “I never see you at school.”

“I’m homeschooled, actually,” Armin explains. He puts his hands into the pockets of his coat. “Gives me more time at the rink.” 

Annie lets out a hum. “Not a bad idea.” 

Truth be told, it would be nice having an excuse to only ever commute between her house and the rink. 

When Annie looks up again, Armin’s eyes are a shimmering blue. She’s never noticed them before — then again, she’s never been this close to him before. 

Despite their years training at the same rink, Annie realizes now that this may be the first conversation she’s ever had with the guy, aside from passing comments on one another’s jumps. She’s only ever watched him from afar, admiring his camel spins and ability to truly embody the music of his program. 

With the way Armin is looking at her now, Annie wonders if he’s ever done the same. 

Soon she asks, “Why are you talking to me?”

The question is very direct, but Armin is nonplussed as he smiles boyishly. 

“Because I thought it’s the least I could do after almost knocking you off your feet.”

And to think, all these competitions and training sessions they spent in proximity to each other and it took a near-collision for them to finally talk. 

Once more, Annie can feel heat rushing to her cheeks. She steadies her breathing, the atmosphere is cold enough to turn the air from her lungs into small puffs of smoke. Nervously, she rubs her ungloved hands together again to warm her fingers. 

Watching her closely, Armin scratches his nape again before asking — “Hey, would you ever want to-”

He is cut off by the sound of a car horn. Both blondes turn their heads to the parking lot to see Annie’s father pulling up in his car. His face is stern as he waves to his daughter from the driver’s seat. 

Annie faces Armin again, but glances down just enough to not look him in the eye. “...I have to go.” 

With that said, she dashes away from the curb and towards her father’s car. When she opens the door and plops her ass in the passenger’s seat, Annie only looks back for a second to see Armin’s wistful stare and his gentle, stilted wave goodbye. 

Beside her, Albert Leonhardt has an eyebrow raised at both his daughter and the young boy standing outside. 

“What did he want?” asks the older man as he shifts the car into gear.

“Nothing,” Annie lies through her teeth. Sucking in a breath, she tugs her hoodie over her head and pulls the strings tight to truly block out the world. 

…

…

…

Historia Reiss exits the rink like she usually does — bored, tired, and checking Instagram. At least she follows Coach Nanaba’s “no phones at practice” rule to a tee. 

Just as she shares a story about her early morning training session, she nearly bumps into someone standing on the curb outside the building. Looking away from her screen, Historia is greeted to the sight of Armin Arlert wistfully waving to a car pulling out of the parking lot. 

Historia is confused and glances towards the vehicle to see what on earth is going on. 

In the moving car, Historia spots Annie Leonhardt pulling her hoodie over her head and curling into herself like a human armadillo. 

Combined with the longing look in Armin’s eyes, Historia’s first reaction is to let out a chuckle. With her elbow, she nudges her rinkmate and says —

“Blondes, amiright?”