#volant family

[harbinger-0f-spring]

Céléase Rosier - Headcanons Pt.1

Céléase Rosier is my own OC I made to be the sister of Druella Black (née Rosier) and @konstantynowitz's Étienne Rosier.

Keep in mind this is just a brain dump so not everything typed is going to give the full picture, but it should at least give you guys an idea and better outlook on this oc.

Céléase Rosier was born in 1934 to Eglantine Volant and Laurent Rosier, the younger brother of Grindelwald's most loyal acolyte Vinda Rosier. She had two elder siblings: Étienne Rosier, the father of Evan and Felix; and Druella Rosier, who married Cygnus Black and with whom she had three daughters with: Bellatrix, Andromeda and Narcissa.

She grew up in the shadow of her sister Druella, the most desired of the two. Ella was already out in society by the time Céléase was fourteen, collecting suitors left and right, all of which were from noble pure-blood families of their own.

Despite being only two years younger than her sister, Céléase often found herself overlooked by wizards eager to win Druella's favor. As the suitors scrambled for Druella's hand, Céléase was frequently forgotten, even though her own introduction to society was approaching soon.

Eglantine was very protective of Céléase and had the tendency of treating her like a fragile little flower, refusing to accept that like the rest of her children, her youngest was also beginning to grow up. Her mother's insistence on keeping Céléase sheltered served as a kind of confinement for the youngest Rosier sibling.

Some could say that Céléase was Eglantine's favorite child, but others would say that Eglantine's constant smothering was more suffocating than nurturing. While Eglantine believed she was shielding Céléase from the harsh realities of the world, her overprotectiveness stifled her daughter’s independence.

The only taste of freedom she managed to get during her youth was through Étienne, who would usually be tasked by Eglantine to accompany his sister if she wished to go somewhere off the estate property; Céléase could only leave the manor when a chaperone was present.

Arm-in-arm they'd walk with one another, Étienne always being the one on the sidewalk nearest to the road just in case a carriage passed by. He wouldn't want his little sister being trampled by a Pegasus or have an allergic reaction to their feathers.

(because Céléase was indeed allergic and it would not be a pleasant sight for Étienne to see his sister breaking out in hives)

Eglantine would've killed her son if that were to have happened.

Anyways, compared to his mother, Étienne wasn't as overbearing. While Eglantine's protective nature often bordered on suffocating, Étienne understood the importance of allowing Céléase some freedom to explore. He balanced his instinct to safeguard her with the realization that his sister needed the space to grow and discover the world on her own terms.

This nuanced approach made their relationship more open and trusting; Céléase knew that she was able to depend on Étienne to provide support and exhibit respect in areas that their mother lacked when it came to her own independence.

If you've watched FBWTFT then you'd remember the jazz club disguised by that enchanted advertisement on the wall. Well, lets just say that when Céléase was a little older, maybe around the ages of sixteen or seventeen, her brother would take her to something like that.

Sometimes on Céléase's little excursions with Étienne, the siblings would visit hidden bars or clubs so that she could see a little bit more their world had to offer, rather than being stuck at home with Eglantine breathing down her neck.

By this time, Étienne was twenty-four and had already graduated from Hogwarts, dedicating himself to the early uprising of Voldemort as one of his Death Eaters. In spite of this, he still made time to look after his little sister.

Céléase always admired the jazz singers that would perform on stage in the late evenings when her brother would take her. She'd love to sing along to the music, especially to the ones her mother usually forbade her to listen to when in the house.

There was this one special singer that Céléase loved the most: Imelda, a half-goblin, half-elf who frequently sang at the club Étienne took her to (which he did with purpose since he knew that his sister loved Imelda and he'd always be looking at her schedule so that he knew when she was going to be on stage).

When Imelda started releasing her own albums, Étienne would purchase them for his sister without their mother's knowledge so that she could listen to them from the comfort of her own room on the nights when she couldn't go out.

One evening, Étienne took Céléase backstage before one of Imelda’s performances as a surprise and by the end of the night she found herself singing alongside her idol.

Let’s just say that this is when Céléase really began to break free from the golden cage she’d been living in for so long, having finally just seen a glimpse of a life she could only ever imagine in a fever dream.

Due to Grindelwald’s imprisonment in 1945, the Rosier family were permitted to return to France. At this time, Céléase was expected to be enrolling at Hogwarts like her elder siblings before her, but instead her mother decided to send her to Beauxbatons now that they were allowed to return to their home country.

Céléase went to live with her uncle Floxel Volant and his wife Pascaline, staying with them for seven years while she attended Beauxbatons. To their niece, Floxel and Pascaline became second parents and treated her like their daughter.

Druella was already in her third year at Hogwarts so she wasn't going to be transferring to Beauxbatons and go to live with her mother's family like her sister was.

Besides, one of the main reasons why Eglantine wanted her youngest daughter to go to France was to find a potential husband. Ella herself had already been offered plenty of promising betrothals so her mother wasn't worried about her eldest finding a good husband while remaining in England.

Eglantine tasked her sister-in-law Pascaline to introduce her daughter to a few pure-blood nobles within French society, hoping that in time one of them would ask for Céléase's hand in marriage.

While living with her aunt and uncle, she was closest with her cousin Gabriel Volant, who like Céléase, was not an extremist when it came to their family's purist ideologies. He was more open-minded and accepting towards muggles, and did not believe that just because he was a pure-blood he had the right to belittle and oppress them.

Gabriel was the youngest of Floxel and Pascaline's children, having been born around 1931, making him only three years older than his little cousin. Due to the slight age gap, this would mean that Gabriel was already in his fourth year at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic when Céléase enrolled.

The cousins did not interact with each other much during their early childhoods because of the Rosier family's inability to return to France during Grindelwald's uprising. Even so, Céléase and Gabriel managed to reconnect fairly quickly. Gabriel did not shy away from his little cousin, in spite of their earlier estrangement.

The last time the two saw each other was in 1936, before Laurent Rosier moved his family to England. At the time, Gabriel would've only been five and Céléase was two. Of course, the cousins would correspond through letters on holidays and birthdays, but they never met again in person up until Céléase went to live with Floxel and Pascaline.

[konstantynowitz]

Family tree revisions - Lestrange & Volant

There has been a significant change in birth years for the Lestrange-Volant family tree as @harbinger-0f-spring and I have seemed to miscalculated a few generations! Sorry for the misunderstanding but hopefully we've cleaned a few things up with this revision I've made. I can't promise that there won't be any errors, although what I came up with seems to somewhat align with each generation.

First off, I've gotten rid of Benouét Volant as we found that he was born way too early to be a cousin of Quintilla Lestrange (I have also taken the time to change her date of birth as well). I don't know if we'll be using the name Benouét for a Volant relative we come up with in the near future, but it is a possibility that we will be reintroducing Benouét Volant as Étienne's father rather than his grandfather. This would therefore make Benouét the elder brother of Jodelle Lestrange (née Volant), since the date of birth I've made up for her would make her a bit younger. Instead of 1870 as the original birth date of Étienne Volant, I've changed it to 1873 so that now he is seven years his wife's senior. As for his cousin Quintilla who @harbinger-0f-spring made the elder cousin of Benouét Volant, I put her date of birth around 1893. With the fixing of the generations and dates, this would make Quintilla quite young compared to Étienne, about twenty years to be exact. I'm sticking to the storyline which we had planned out for Benouét that his parents died during a dragon pox outbreak, but instead of Benouét I replaced him with Étienne.

Étienne was ten in 1883 when the dragon pox outbreak occurred and his young aunt Jodelle (aged 19), who was newly married, took in her orphaned nephew and raised him alongside her husband Floxel (aged 27). This all happened years before Jodelle and Floxel had their daughter Quintilla so Étienne was basically their first child at the time. When Étienne grew up and married, he named his eldest son Floxel Volant in honor of his uncle.

[yanxidarlings]

"they say the wizarding elite aims to have heirs within a few years of each other, so that when they begin attending hogwarts, they can form a gang, a clique, whatever it is, to represent the prosperity of the pureblood circle, to uphold the values of the sacred twenty eight" "didn't nott's grandfather write that list?" "no- well, yes, his father did. but the idea of the wizarding elite predates it. the slytherins have had their heads stuck up their arses since 990 a.d — salazar slytherin himself is who we have to thank for the glorification of pure blood — and so centuries of inbreeding has led to what we now know as the slytherin elite" "so it's like the wizarding nobility then?" "not.. exactly. it used to be, many family's from the sacred twenty eight used to hold very real titles and power, but when the magical government became centralised in the 1700's, they were given hereditary seats on the wizengamont to keep them happy, but the power they once held slowly faded — that was around the time when the concept of slytherin gangs began" "merlins beard, they've been at this for nearly three hundred years? haven't they run out of purebloods to inbreed with yet" "some have, that's why you don't see any gaunts, beowulf's or volants in the group-" "if i'm being honest, they all look like the same stuck up gits, you absolutely positive some pureblood lady didn't just pop out fifteen of them at once" "there's only nine, malfoy and zabini are pretty distinguishable from the others, but you do have a point, i'd bet my left leg they're all at least fifth cousins" "how do you know so much" "i read you know, and people watch" "a'right then, which one is which" "why do you want to know so much? that's... caster rosier, best avoid him, apparently by the third year he had dated all of slytherin house" "you're kidding, right" "and then he moved on to hufflepuff and ravenclaw, but i suppose that's what happens when rita skeeter raises you" "rita skeeter? poor bloke" "and he does nothing but gossip, we once had to work together for a potions project and i mentioned that i had a cough and he started a rumour that i had mono" "i take that back, stuff him" "and he's supposed to be one of the nice ones. the one sitting next to him, pollux black, is the biggest prick i've ever had the displeasure of meeting, bumped into him once on my way to herbology, the bloody bastard has had it out for me ever since, calls me every foul word you could imagine, told me i was better off dead, i think i'm the reason he's started bullying you as well" "i thought i was getting bullied by one of the riddles" "you probably are — if he hits, it's mattheo riddle, if he snitchs, it's draco malfoy, if he's rude, it's pollux black, if he ignores, it's blaise zabini, and if he smokes, it's theodore nott. berkshire, greengrass and rosier are the 'nice ones', by slytherin standards" "which is the one with the punchable face?" "eulalio greengrass" "i was paired with astoria greengrass in transfiguration the other day, and messed up the spell, which cost us the grade, you know what he did when she went crying to him? broke my fucking wand" "i thought you said you stepped on it-" "he threatened to have me kicked out of hogwarts if i told anybody!" "that's just how those people are, think they're above everyone else because of their blood status and house. i think berkshire is the only one with redeemable qualities" "which one is that" "are you faceblind-"

[world-of-wales]

ＴＨＥ ＲＯＹＡＬ ＣＨＲＯＮＩＣＬＥＳ : The Royal Wedding of Prince William & Catherine Middleton .* :☆ﾟ｡ ･

HRH Prince William Arthur Philip Louis and Miss. Catherine Elizabeth Middleton married in a religious ceremony at Westminster Abbey on what is my favourite day ever aka 29 April, 2011.

For the day, William was in the red tunic of the Colonel of the Irish Guards uniform with a forage cap bearing the Irish Guards insignia. He wore the Order of the Garter Star and Blue Riband to which his RAF Wings & Golden Jubilee Medal were fastened.

Meanwhile Catherine was a fairytale disney princess in a dress by Surah Burton of Alexander McQueen with the Cartier Scroll Tiara and a pair of diamond acorn earrings from Robinson Pelham. Her bridal bouquet featured myrtle, lily-of-the-valley, sweet William, ivy, and hyacinth.

Catherine was walked down the aisle by her father, Michael with whom she had travelled from Goring Hotel. Her sister Pippa was the maid of honour.

Will & Cat vowed to love, honour and cherish each other during the ceremony performed by the Archbishop of Cantebury.

He gave Catalina a ring made from Welsh Gold keeping with the tradition within the Royal Family.

Following the ceremony in true fairytale fashion, the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge travelled in a horse-drawn carriage procession to Buckingham Palace.

They appeared on the Palace Balcony and shared TWO KISSES to the delight of the crowd gathered below and to my Disney obsessed self who'd been glued to the TV the entire time.

A Reception was held by the Queen in their honour at Bucking Palace, after which William drove his babykins to Clarence House in an Aston Martin DB6 Volante. Another private dinner was hosted by The Prince of Wales for his son and new daughter-in-law.

This was quite literally THE WEDDING OF THE CENTURY! Aaaahhh all those feels of the day, everything was just perfect. Honestly for me nothing is ever topping twenty-ninth of april of 2011. And I don't think there was anyone who wasn't enveloped by the happiness radiating off of these two that day.

Nobody can talk about the day without talking about the goddess that our homegirl looked like that day, KateEffect had always been a thing but THIS DRESS like >>>>

[solowinx]

WINX BOYS' NAMES IF THEY WERE ITALIAN

(repost because my previous reblog was kinda a mess)

questions from @redfountainpostin reblog:

How do you italianify Timmy?

Technically his italian name is Timoteo. i have never met a Timoteo in my life tho so i'd go with "Teo"

Do you have any ideas for the boys?

Cielo Orefice (sky)

Brando Sasso (brandon)

Elia Carta (helia)

Riccardo Spezzati (riven)

Teo Volante (timmy)

Nebo Ruscelli (nabu)

Rocco Goccia (roy)

Pluto Rossi (nex)

Tonio Orefice (thoren)

riven was impossible to translate so I put a common male name similar to riven and then i put a last name that literally means riven

nex was difficult too. since his name means death but death in italian is a female noun (in fact aisha is viviana because alive in italian is "viva") i decided to give him the roman variant of Hades' name (plutone, aka pluto)

nabu is a babylonian god so i searched his italian variant. i don't think anyone would name their son "nebo" tho

thoren made me insane so i gave up and i gave him a random italian name.

little fun fact about "orefice": it comes from oreficeria which in english means goldsmith shop. since it's a typical italian last name and eraklyon's magic is based on gems i decided to give to the royal family this last name. (sasso instead means stone)

i headcanon timmy as solarian so a variant of his italian name could be "Timoteo Alba" alba means sunrise, while volante means steering wheel or that flies.

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Tumblr isn't letting me find again @fictionadventurer's and my own posts on epistolary novels, but I have been thinking about it again, because I fell down a Goodreads review rabbit hall and I have thoughts again.

So many people dislike the style, and honestly, I don't blame them, because it's so often done... not well. It is in some aspects, a deceptively easy one, and in others, deceptively hard. And because I'm trying to write a novel with this format myself, I have been thinking about what makes or breaks an epistolary novel.

I talked yesterday about TGLPPS, because it is an interesting case to analyze. I have thought many times about it, and cannot think of a single non-merely-aesthetic reason for it to be told in an epistolary style. A lot of it depends on -British- people who have survived some terrible war conditions willingly opening up to a stranger about their experiences, and that's made... even more difficult if the medium is letters? typically writers will appeal to tropes like making the reserved character drunk, or have them share an extreme experience in isolation with the stranger to create sudden intimacy. None of this is possible in writing; if anything, one is much more self-conscious about the things one writes than the things one says; verba volant, scripta manent.

It seems to me the story would have flowed much more naturally if Juliet had been stranded on Guernsey for some reason -like the first author herself!- suddenly Dawsey commenting that he got a book from her library makes so much more sense! Yes, certainly, if you met a stranger out there, and they introduce themselves and you realize you have a book that once belonged to them, you would tell them so! And it is in this way that the epistolary format does violence to a story that would otherwise sound much less contrived.

Another problem is the large cast of characters and multiple settings. For all I complain about Dracula, Stoker manages this pretty well (of course he has the model of The Woman in White, but TWiW has fewer povs), at least on the first half, because structurally the storylines of the characters are converging, and that does a lot to guide the reader in the understanding of the character's relationships. TGLPPS's relationship structure is more of a multidirectional flow chart, and that becomes confusing really fast.

Another novel I read reviews for recently is one set in WWI, composed of back and forth letters between two lovers torn apart by war, and one common complaint was... that the climactic scenes, the times they meet, etc all happen... off-camera. It is a fair complaint, but also one I cannot really blame the author for, because that's what usually happens with real life compilations of letters of that kind. Sure, usually the editor/compiler will fill in the blanks sometimes and add an epilogue of sorts explaining what happened afterwards, and that is possible if you are writing it fictionally too, but some may think it spoils the effect of immediacy and whatnot, which, fair too.

But it makes me think of how aware Jean Webster was of these difficulties, and how deftly she managed them in both Daddy Long-Legs and Dear Enemy. Both novels have aged badly in terms of content and message, but they are very interesting stylistically.

DLL is a bildungsroman with a dash of romance; through Judy's letters to daddy long-legs we can see how she grows as a person, gaining independence intellectually and economically, and as a writer, as her grammar and vocabulary change and grow. Between making Judy an orphan who hates the orphanage where she has lived her whole life, and one where she lived past the usual age of being thrown into the world, Webster does away with the need for letters between Judy and her friends and family: all her friends and family are her college roommates and her benefactor, who is the person she writes to. The benefactor scheme also makes it so that she doesn't have to write dll's replies, which in turns makes it much more natural and acceptable for the reader when Judy writes him the ending's love letter describing the feelings and impressions of their finally meeting in person and in truth; Judy has become a writer, and she is so used to write to him as another person all the time, that it just makes sense for her to write to him one more letter at the point where her benefactor and her lover become one and the same person. She has written a novel where the core is the correspondence between lovers AND managed to include as well all the moments of their meetings that we would otherwise miss.

Dear Enemy is a similar, but longer and more ambitious story. Instead of one relationship-connection (Judy and Daddy's), we have Sallie as a nod of connections: she's Judy's friend, Jarvis' "employee", the boss of several characters, has a tense colleague-boss relationship with the visiting doctor, a boyfriend of sorts in Washington, and a family we have met before. It is, in that way, a similar setup to TGLPPS: a urban girl of means becomes a fish out of water in a different setting till she ends up assimilating to it, and settling definitely through marriage. But Webster does a few things differently to make it click.

For starters, it is clear to her that this is the story of Sallie's maturation -I have sometimes talked of Dear Enemy as a novel where a Mary Crawford-like character undergoes a transformation arc. The happenings and stories she meets and tells Judy about along the way serve this arc, besides standing on their own as case studies to illustrate the problems, ideology and solutions proposed to the secondary themes of the story (education and social reform). I feel like TGLPPS is much more interested in Guernsey's survival through the war, in which case Juliet's story is already a frame, which, again, makes the epistolary format cumbersome rather than complementary.

Dear Enemy adds more correspondents, but it is very austere/economical with them, and narrows the letters we see to only those Sallie sends. YMMV regarding if it was too much cutting or not, but the undeniable effect is structural soundness; you are never confused by what is happening or who is writing to whom. We can guess the Honorable Cyrus Wykoff probably wrote some indignant letters to Jervis, and those would be funny to read, but... would they be worth the break in the flow of the narrative? I don't think so. To this effect, just having Sallie write a line to the effect of "I expect at this point you have at hand an irate letter from the Hon. Cyrus" is enough to paint a picture for the reader. Perhaps a letter or two from Dr. MacRae would have helped develop his character more -definitely a first read of the story obscures how much misdirection there is in Sallie's narration to Judy, which in turns tends to create an impression of suddenness to the closing letter that doesn't come across well to the reader.

The choice of Sallie mainly writing to Judy is, IMO, a really good one too. It not only establishes a connection with DLL, but it also allows for the intimacy that makes disclosure believable (something TGLPPS struggles with, as I mentioned above). When you add a few letters to the doctor and Gordon and Jervis, you also get a better perspective of Sallie's personality, how she deals not only with a friend, but with acquaintances, romantic partners and coworkers.

From all this it is pretty evident that for Webster the main function of epistolarity as format is aiding in showing psychological and moral development. But that's not the only thing the format can be really good for: perspective is another, and Austen uses it to great effect in both Lady Susan and Lesley Castle.

Both stories deal with mainly static characters, but who have very strong perspectives of the same situation, and it is this singularity of setting and story that anchors the narrative to avoid confusion, while the variety of perspective brings interest. In Lady Susan, we are dealing mainly with the marrying off of Frederica and seduction of Mrs. Vernon's brother, Reginald. There where Lady Susan paints Frederica as an undisciplined, irrational and ungrateful daughter, her sister in law, Mrs. Vernon, paints her as a sweet girl and a victim of her mother's ruthlessness and lack of love. Both agree that Reginald is being seduced, but, of course, with opposite goals: Lady Susan wants him to succumb, Mrs. Vernon, to escape, and this is a delicious struggle for the reader to follow!*

Lesley Castle being an earlier effort, and unfinished, does show some of the defects I have mentioned before (mainly, the relative confusion of having several correspondents in separate storylines), but illustrates well this same perspective effect: Margaret writes to Charlotte about the new Lady Lesley, and the new Lady Lesley writes to Charlotte about about Margaret and her sister... and in these contrasts lies the main interest of the narrative.

Some conclusions to these musings, then:

Not every story is suited to the epistolary format.

The epistolary format seems to work the best when it is used for either A) showcase psychological and moral development B) to play with perspective on people and/or events.

One of the main difficulties of the format is finding a narrative element to anchor and structure the letters around.

It must have a core couple of correspondents, or at most, two. More than that will make it confusing (unless, perhaps, the story is very short and about a single event or two).

A delicate balance must be found so that the secondary correspondence doesn't cut the flow of the main one, and if possible it must feed into it.

*It is interesting how Love and Friendship, being such a delightful -and I sustain one of the best ever- Austen adaptation, is by force of the perspective switch towards a more impersonal third person, more about a love story between Frederica and Reginald than a struggle between Lady Susan and Mrs. Vernon. Which isn't dissimilar to how adaptations of DLL end up being more about the romance between the leads than Judy's coming of age in college; tropes aside, I feel like if the epistolary format is well embedded in the story, it's going to be nearly impossible to reproduce the effect in adaptation.

[smorgasvoid]

The Sky's the Limit: Wyverns of Chortis

On Chortis, there are six groups of what we would call wyverns, which are a polyphyletic assemblage of various sarcopterygians.

Due to the high energy demands of flight, most wyverns are carnivorous (when they do eat plants, it is usually fruit). The exception is the elephant wyverns, which are flightless herbivores.

The following groups are listed in the order they were drawn:

• The first group of wyverns are the elephant wyverns (Clade Pachydermoptera), named due to their prehensile trunks and generally large size. This group includes the heaviest wyvern that ever lived, containing herbivorous and omnivorous taxa. They are also the smallest group of wyverns. When they were first discovered by European settlers that entered the magic portals, they were thought to be a type of monotreme. Then, analysis of their morphology showed that they were an aberrant clade of trionychian turtles (yes, you read that correctly).

The ancestral shell has atrophied, being reduced to rib-like components. Despite their forelimbs resembling wings, they did not evolve from flying animals, rather their ancestor possessed wing-like flippers. They physically can't fly due to their wings being too dense and the fact that they lack the adaptations seen in flying vertebrates. Nowadays, extant taxa use them for balance, intimidation, display, swimming, or quadrupedal locomotion.

• The second are the more common saurian wyverns (Clade Vernosauria), a group of primarily carnivorous winged saurischian dinosaurs that can be divided into quadrupedal and bipedal taxa. They were formerly thought to be closely related to the ichthyosaur-like dyptosaurs but they are now believed to be descended from a Pampadromaeus-like taxon, making them a bit closer to true sauropods. This group includes the highest number of wyvern species. Interestingly, most saurian wyverns are venomous. They may or may not have proto-feathers, depending on the vernosaur family.

• Then there are the bird wyverns (Clade Coccatraciformes (And yes I'm using Monster Hunter terminology) which aren't birds in the strict sense but an offshoot of the scansoriopterygids. Like the Yi+Ambopteryx clade and unlike the majority of maniraptorans, they have bat-like membranous wings supported by 3 digits and a styliform wristbone. Unlike their predecessors, many bird wyverns can fly. They are split into two groups, the Aviteratosauria (bird monster lizards), which are more reptilian in their physiology and then there are the Paratornithes, which are more bird-like in their physiology.

•Vintage wyverns (Clade Opisthoptera), named such due to their resemblance to Terran heraldic wyverns, are a clade of winged archosauromorphs descended from a member of the Sharovipteryx+Ozimek clade. Most vintage wyverns are raptorial predators, though waders, skimmers, scavengers, ovivores, and granivores are present. Unlike most wyverns, they possess wings derives from their hindlimbs, being sharovipterygians.

• The frog wyverns, also known as elf wyverns (Clade Elfinoptera) are a clade of volant temnospondyls nested in the Dissorophoidea, making them a sister group to Lissamphibia, which includes actual frogs. They are heterothermic, with their metabolism changing depending on factors such as their environment and the availability of food and water. The "elf" part is in part due to the ear-like protrusions of the lower jaw.

Many but not all taxa have a ballistic tongue, which aids in feeding.

• The last and oldest group, the piscine wyverns (clade Volanichthyes, more MH terminology for you). Strangely, unlike most wyverns, piscine wyverns are not tetrapods, let alone tetrapodomorphs. Instead, they are closely related to lungfish (being dipnomorphs, specifically porolepiforms) yet have converged with early tetrapods. While adults are terrestrial or semiaquatic, all volanichthyans (with the exception of mouthbrooders) must return to water to lay their eggs.

Based on an interpretation of the ocean flish by Fabio Alejandro/Dragonthunders as a different clade of lobe-finned fish. Subsequent piscine wyvern designs will be more "fishy", since this is just a generic example and not representative of any species native to Chortis (also too similar to tetrapods design-wise).

Extra notes: Saurian wyverns were the first type planned (since 2021), going through many phases, they were originally going to be an offshoot of varanoid lizards, then a clade of archosaurs endemic to an alternate Earth (before the idea for an exoplanet was thought of), then basal diapsids descended from araeoscelidids, then compsognathiforms (Compsognathidae is probably polyphyletic so it was changed to stem-tetrapods). Now, they are sauropodomorphs.

[mybeingthere]

Giorgio Ferro (born 1931, Murano, Italy) is a Murano glass designer and maker. Giorgio was born into a family of glass makers. His father, Galliano Ferro, was the talented glass designer who founded Vetreria Artistica Galliano Ferro in 1955.

Giorgio studied at the Carmini State Institute of Art in Venice, graduating in 1951. From 1951 until 1955 he worked as a designer at the Arte Vetraria Muranese (A.V.E.M.), the factory founded by his grandfather Antonio Ferro, his father Galliano Ferro, and by Emilio Nason and Giulio Radi.

After the death of Giulio Ravi in 1952, the young Giorgio took the role of lead designer of A.V.E.M. It is during this time that Giorgio first created the successful Ansa Volante vases, made of thick chromatic iridescent glass–a technique that he had learned from Radi, creating sinuous curves, small openings and large handles. These designs were exhibited in the 1952 Venice Biennale.

https://www.casatigallery.com/designers/giorgio-ferro/...(born%201931%2C%20Murano,Artistica%20Galliano%20Ferro%20in%201955.

[tragedybunny]

The Song Divine - Chapter 1

༺Summary༻

Astrid was an opera singer with a glowing future ahead of her when fate crosses her path with that of Prince Folwin, youngest son of the Emperor. The two begin what feels like a romance from tales of old. The closer the two become though, the more Astrid is pulled into the deepening conflict tearing the Imperial Family apart from within. One fateful night will shatter it entirely, leaving Astrid alone in the world and a fugitive. Just as she begins to find solace among the companions who took her in, her and Folwin are thrust back together for a grim mission that will have them pardoned if they can see it through. While the dangers they face are great, the biggest struggle might be having one another close through it all.

༺Warnings༻ Setting appropriate violence, sexual content

༺Word Count༻ 3011

༺A/N༻ Hi Lovelies. This is my first original work. It's been a labor of love for a year to get started on this. I hope you fall in love with these characters as much as I have. I will still be writing fanfic of course, I have so many plans for Astarion. The biggest thank you to @icybluepenguin for editing and being my support! I love you Icy, you're my partner in crime. And thank you for reading.

Also on AO3

The night air was cool on Astrid's skin as she gazed at the sky and wondered if Volant had put a star there to guide her specifically. Perhaps she should pray on it, but religion was never close to her heart. A sentiment many in the Empire shared these days, some even replacing old gods with the Imperial family. It was whispered the Emperor had secretly begun to encourage the practice. 

Astrid shook her head to clear away those thoughts. Politics and state religions weren't her concern. The stage was. And she'd come to this deserted, neglected part of the Imperial Garden to practice. The great opera house, the Helentine, named after the Empress Helentia, was open to her, but there she might be observed and even heard, a mortifying idea.  

Pulling her shawl tight over the plain dress she wore, she began singing scales to warm up her voice. She kept glancing around at the paths through hedges around her, waiting to be interrupted. It seemed that this corner of the Imperial Garden was truly an untouched haven. Softly, she sung the first notes of an aria. In moments, she was lost in the song, transported to that place she could only get to when she sang - that wondrous, sacred place where there was only her and music. To Astrid, singing was divine bliss.

Her voice remained softer than the projection she’d use on stage. Even though she was reasonably sure she wouldn’t be found, no reason for extra risk. Eyes closed, she raised her arms, hands moving along with the melody, keeping time. Every note was effortless, and when the last one came, her heart surged with joy. As her voice died away, Astrid felt herself coming down from the high in a soft, joyous haze, the most relaxed she’d felt since she came to the Imperial complex. For a moment, it felt like things were going to be alright. 

Until she heard the sound of soft applause behind her. 

Blood turned to ice water in her veins as she turned to look behind her. A young man sat on one of the worn stone benches scattered amongst the neglected hedges and flowers. Though his silver eyes were friendly and a smile played about his full lips, she dread was building in her stomach. He was tall, taller than most men. Elven lineage, she surmised, noting the pointed ears almost lost in waves of platinum white hair, and the handsome yet fine features he bore. 

"Bravo, that was delightful, my dear," he said in a cultured and mellifluous tone. 

"T-thank you," Astrid stammered and he didn't seem to notice her struggle. 

"And what's your name? I haven't seen you at the Imperial Opera before and I'm sure I'd remember a voice like that." The smile never left him but it didn't do anything for her unease. 

"Astrid, Astrid Lucerne. I just arrived at the Opera company. And you, sir?" This time her voice sounded blessedly normal… She'd just been caught singing alone in an abandoned garden, she didn't need to embarrass herself further in front of this striking stranger. 

On his feet in an instant, he bowed with a dramatic flourish. "Prince Folwin, pleasure to meet you, Madame Astrid."

"Oh-" the air rushed from her lungs and she felt unsteady on her feet. She had just looked foolish and eccentric in front the most important audience she could ever have, an Imperial Royal. 

"Now I've gone and overwhelmed you, it would seem." Taking her hand with all gentleness, he guided her to sit on the bench next to him while her mind tried to catch up to the situation. “My sincerest apologies.” 

Shaking her head, she collected her scattered thoughts, black hair that had escaped its pins swirling around her. “No need, I had just thought I was alone…” 

“And then some nosy Prince shows up and spoils the evening,” he continued on, in the same lighthearted manner as before. 

Astrid had never had a stranger moment in her life than sitting on a cold bench next to her unexpected royal audience, hearing him poke fun at himself. Her panic was slowly succumbing to a fascination with him and why he was there. “I wouldn’t phrase it quite that way, Prince Folwin.”

“Just Folwin will do, given these rather informal circumstances. But I must beg you, indulge my curiosity,” he leaned in a conspiratorial manner, the two of them now far too close for any sense of propriety, “why are you out here, singing for the hedges?” 

The heady smell of something floral combined with a musky incense clouded her senses. The momentary reprieve from her panic vanished as she scrambled for a way to explain herself that didn’t make her look pathetic. “To be honest…” Her words fell away as she hesitated once again. Folwin rested a cheek in one of his perfect pale hands, eyeing her expectantly. No good excuses came to mind and, admitting defeat, she let the truth out, “I rather hate singing where people can hear me.” 

Folwin balked for a moment, as though he was unsure if she was joking. “Interesting, given your assignment to the Opera.” 

Astrid found a rather interesting spot on the ground to stare at. “My father's idea, he believes my voice is too good to hide from the world. He plays for the grand orchestra and he insisted I come here and begin my career.” 

“Ah, my sympathies. I can understand being subject to the whims of a parent.” 

Astrid chanced a glance back up to find those silver eyes studying her. 

“Although, if you don't mind me saying, I'm inclined to agree with him, your voice is very lovely, and it would be a shame to keep it hidden.” 

The compliment caused her heart to skip a beat and she worried her cheeks would begin to flush. “That's because you only heard me sing while I thought I was alone.” 

A hand of sculpted marble reached out and tilted up her chin, holding her eyes to his. “And what have you to be scared of, sounding as perfect as you do?” All the mirth had vanished from his words and he was suddenly quite serious. 

There was no answer that would come to her, try as she might to think of it; she could only stare into those hypnotic eyes of his. It was madness, being overwhelmed by the beauty of him, the intoxicating scent, the lilting sound of his voice. Astrid scolded herself - he was a Prince, this must just be some game to him. "Like many emotions, fear is not always rational. But I suppose I fear to fail, and to be on display while doing so. Sounds silly, doesn't it?"

Shaking his head, his hand slipped away and Astrid felt its departure keenly. "We all have that which we must overcome. How about a deal?" He didn't leave space for her to answer. "You face your fears and I'll make a point to attend your debut. It will be a glorious triumph then."

Astrid pictured herself waiting in the wings, watching the Royal Box for any glimpse of Folwin. An absurd fancy; he would most certainly forget his promise as soon as he walked away.  

"And how shall I hold you to this?" she asked.

A musical laugh escaped him and the world was light and jovial all over again. "If I fail to keep my word, you must come straight to court and tell my father about how feckless and irresponsible I am. You won't have a hard time convincing him." The bitterness of his last words didn't escape her. 

The great clock tower began to chime the hour and Folwin sighed. "Speaking of, I'm afraid I must bid you goodnight, Madame Astrid." He rose, now towering over her. "I do expect to hear word of your success soon."

"Goodnight, Pr-" she stopped at his sharp look, "Folwin. I'll hold you to your word." 

Sweeping her hand up, his lips brushed her knuckles before he vanished with an almost preternatural grace.

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

"There's just the two guards, that's all, once his Clerk is out of the way," Lyza nodded at Astrid from across the plans laid out in chalk on the floor. 

She sighed. This job was shaping up like so many others. What an odd thought, that criminality had become mundane. 

Two other faces turned her way. The room was crowded with the four of them crammed inside, the last one available at the inn last night. The tang of sea air drifting in through the windows and the crying of the gulls had awakened them this morning. They were as far north as one could get and still be in the Empire of Elyssia.  

“I'll handle him,” Astrid said.

Tallus nodded. “After Lyza and Brecken take the guards, I'll have the locks open and we'll be out before even the rats in this shithole know what we're about.”

"You had better be quick this time. We almost got caught in Gretz." Even as close as their little band had become, Lyza’s words carried a threat, if they faltered, she would save herself first. 

"Relax," soothed Brecken, the half-elf among three humans. 

Where Tallus was nervous ambition cloaked in charisma, and Lyza was staunch pragmatism, Brecken was the calm center of their group. Astrid wasn't sure yet what she was, other than a blind will to survive. 

"Tonight is the Sending Ceremony, and then tomorrow, the whole village will be at the docks, practically. No one will notice anything." Though Brecken didn't have the elven silver eyes - they were green flecked with gold - sometimes his fair features reminded her too much of Folwin and Astrid couldn’t stand to look at him. Even his hair was such a light gold it looked white in the dark. 

“I will relax when we’re out of here with our purses full.” Lyza had been more terse than usual since their near capture in Gertz and the wealthy merchant who’d sworn revenge on them. 

That failed job had brought them here, to Abyssus. Spring had come and with it, the Ebony Sea had calmed, meaning the residents could ply their trade, the hunting of the great beasts that stalked it. Tonight would be a ceremony and festival celebrating the start of the season, and tomorrow almost everyone in town would head to the docks to farewell the ships, including the local Lord.  Brecken was right, they would be done before anyone was the wiser. 

"Then you’ll take it all and retire to a big house in those fertile valleys to the south,” Tallus teased but got another sharp look from Lyza’s black eyes. 

“I’ll never stop taking from them,” Lyza said bitterly and Tallus let it rest… 

"And what about you, Astrid, didn't you say you had a cousin in Faemare? You've got enough from these last couple of jobs to make your way there." Tallus asked and the other two paused to watch her reaction.  

While he was right, she did have distant kin and no compulsion to hold her to this life, the thought of being on her own again made her insides quake. Astrid had spent her whole life either with her father guiding her or studying at the Grand Academy. Those few weeks after the terrible events, running aimless and alone, had nearly ended her. It was the three of them who had seen her weak and starving on the road and offered her a place with them. 

"Maybe someday," Astrid answered lightly, "for now I'll stick around if you don't mind." 

"Oh, you know I don't mind," Tallus's warm brown eyes danced, empty flirting as easy for him as breathing. 

Lyza loudly cleared her throat. "Is everyone clear? Any misgivings? Remember, we can't afford to fail."

They all nodded in unison and began to rise from the unforgiving wooden floor with various laments about their aches. 

"Astrid, would you?" Lyza gestured to their chalk plans. 

"Almost forgot." She hummed a few notes to set the tone and then, singing directly to the dust of the chalk, she wove a song commanding it to depart as though it had never been there. As she sang, she could feel the eyes of her companions on her, staring with wonder, almost as much as the first time they'd seen it. Songweaving was a rare art, only a few left in the whole world knew it. At least Folwin had given her one thing that lasted. 

"Let's get out and mingle, make ourselves too likable to be suspicious. Remember, we're here to invest in one of the companies if we like what we see." Lyza said. 

Moments later, Lyza was tugging Astrid after her toward the docks, dismissing Brecken and Tallus. Most of the locals were headed toward the market or they were at home making final preparations for the festival. The two of them traveled against the flow, out toward the ancient harbor that Abyssus was founded on. The whole town seemed to be made of wood weathered into full gray by the sea winds and battered by the storms that drifted in from it, all of it looking rundown and tired. 

The people though were like day to its night, cheerful, welcoming, and excited for the event. Endless friendly waves and morning greetings followed them as they walked. Mist still hung lightly to the ground as the spring sunshine struggled to burn it away. The gray woolen dress Astrid had favored for the last few weeks of dismal weather kept the chill at bay, while Lyza wrapped herself in a fur lined cloak over her dark tunic and trousers. 

The preparations for the Sending left the docks empty of all but the those working to ready the ships for the coming hunting season. A strange atmosphere hung about the place, sound but not the din of populace, noise but silence in a way.  Around thirty ships moored at the docks, ready to begin their bloody work. Sailors from not just the Empire but all over the world went about their labor in a synchronized harmony.  

Lyza had been strangely quiet as they walked but as they stopped at the edge of the harbor, Astrid could tell she was readying her thoughts. Lyza was quick to command, or become snappish when irritated, but when there was something important to say, she took her time with it. Breathing in the stinging sea air, Astrid gave her friend space to think, watching the great assembly before them work. 

Finally, Lyza drew in a breath. “You know, with what we have stashed away, you do have enough to get out of the Imperial borders. Doesn’t matter if that cousin in Faemare was a lie or not, you could get to any of the three southern Kingdoms, or even Greenhold, if the Wild Elves don’t overrun it first. If that’s what you want. You’re under no obligation to stay with us.”

Lyza cut right to the heart of the matter, instead of dancing and teasing as Tallus had. The thought of Astrid leaving must have been on her mind to bring it up again. Their little group had sworn no oaths to one another nor made any promises to the length of their arrangement, but with a few successful heists now stashed in a cave to the south, it meant there were opportunities to move on. And not just for Astrid. She wouldn’t be surprised if Lyza was going to have this talk with Brecken and Tallus as well. 

“I’m hurt you’d think my cousin is a lie,” she joked, trying to lighten up the dark expression on Lyza’s face. It worked for half a second. “But to be serious, I can’t think of what else I’d do with my life, even if I got there. I was dead. You all brought me back to life, this is where I belong. I’ll stay, as I told Tallus.” There was nothing else for her to do. 

“Astrid, that can’t be the whole basis for your decision. I know that man you were with did something terrible to you, but you still have your whole life ahead of you.” 

Guilt snaked its way around her chest, constricting her breathing. She had never quite gotten around to the truth of how she ended up on that roadside, at first being too terrified they would turn her over, and now worried they would never forgive her. For the hundredth time she resolved to tell them, after this job. 

“Promise me you’ll think about it,” Lyza said.

"I'll promise if you tell me one thing." 

In the space between their words, Astrid watched one ship in particular, the crew seeming a step more lively than those adjacent to it. They were supposed to be creating a cover, after all. With a gesture for Lyza to follow, she wandered a bit closer, trying to appear as though she knew what she was looking at. 

"Fine, what is it?" Lyza had stopped a short bit behind her, now out onto the planks of the docks themselves, playing along with the act. 

"Do you intend to chase us all out and keep going alone?"

"What?" Lyza's voice elevated for a moment, just enough to draw a couple of looks which she returned with a deep glare. The sailors went quickly back to their work and Lyza leaned in closer. "I just need to be sure where everyone's loyalty lies. I don't want anyone with us that's going to be dreaming of being somewhere else while we've got our lives on the line."

"Or maybe deep down, you do care about us and want what's best for us," Astrid teased, something she did less often with their serious leader than with the boys. 

"Hush, you know what you three mean to me. Now let's go make some more cover." Tugging Astrid by the sleeve, she headed towards the ship's foreman stationed at the gangplank,  overseeing the loading of supplies. 

[theemotionmachine]

50+ Motivational Latin Proverbs to Elevate Your Thinking to New Levels

- Acta non verba ("deeds not words")

- Ad meliora ("towards better things")

- Ad victoriam ("to victory")

- Audere est faucere ("to dare is to do")

- Astra inclinant, sed non obligant ("the stars incline us, they do not bind us")

- Bono malum superate ("good will overcome evil")

- Carpe diem ("seize the day")

- Calamus gladio fortior ("the pen is mightier than the sword")

- Cogito, ergo sum ("I think, therefore I am")

- Cras es noster ("tomorrow, be ours")

- Dictum factum ("what is said is done")

- Duc, sequere, aut de via decede ("lead, follow, or get out of the way")

- Dum spiro, spero ("while I breathe, I hope")

- Ego te provoco ("I challenge you")

- Est modus in rebus ("there is a middle way in all things")

- Faber est suae quisque fortunae ("every man is the artisan of his own fortune")

- Familia supra omnia ("family over everything")

- Fons vitae caritas ("love is the fountain of life")

- Fortiter et fideliter ("bravely and faithfully")

- Gladiator in arena consilium capit ("the gladiator is formulating his plan in the arena")

- Grandescunt aucta labore ("by work, all things increase and grow")

- Humilitas occidit superbiam ("humility kills pride")

- Igne natura renovatur integra ("through fire nature is reborn whole")

- Incepto ne desistam ("may I not shrink from my purpose")

- Magna est vis consuetudinis ("great is the power of habit")

- Memento mori ("remember you must die")

- Memento vivere ("remember you have to live")

- Memores acti prudentes future ("mindful of what has been done, aware of what will be")

- Morior invictus ("death before defeat")

- Non ducor, duco ("I am not led, I lead")

- Omne initium difficile est ("every beginning is difficult")

- Ordo ab chao ("order out of chaos")

- Palma non sine pulvere ("no reward without effort")

- Pax vobiscum ("peace be with you")

- Praesis ut prosis ne ut imperes ("lead in order to serve, not in order to rule")

- Praemonitus, praemunitus ("forewarned is forearmed")

- Primum non nocere ("first do no harm")

- Qui non proficit, deficit ("he who does not advance, goes backward")

- Qui totum vult totum perdit ("he who wants everything loses everything")

- Sapientia potentia est ("wisdom is power")

- Si vis amari, ama ("if you wish to be loved, love")

- Sic parvis magna ("greatness from small beginnings")

- Sic vita est ("such is life")

- Suum cuique ("to each his own")

- Tempus fugit ("time flies")

- Tendit in ardua virtus ("virtue strives for what is difficult")

- Ubi concordia, ibi victoria ("where is unity, there is victory")

- Vacate et scire ("be still and know")

- Veni, vidi, vici ("I came, I saw, I conquered")

- Verba volant, scripta manent ("words fly away, writing remains")

- Vincit qui se vincit ("he conquers who conquers himself")

[fairyhagmother]

13 Books

Thank you @gellavonhamster ! This was really fun :)

The last book I read: Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. A decade late to the party and my verdict is that I preferred the film. Sorry don’t kill me. 

A book I recommend: We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. I always reflexively call this my favourite book and I re-read it recently and it was as brilliant and as chilling as I remember. Merricat truly is a masterclass in writing unreliable narrators. 

A book I couldn’t put down: Anyone who follows me on my main blog knows I am deep in my hunger games era. I read the prequel over a week-end when I was in Berlin with work and now the whole trip is sort of a surreal blur. Highly recommend reading a book about violence and commemoration while walking around the haunted city that is Berlin.

A book I’ve read twice (or more): Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. I read it every Christmas! 

A book on my TBR: Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire.

A book I’ve put down: Intercepts by T.J. Payne. It’s about an underground government lab that experiments with sensory deprivation. I love horror actually! but I get really upset when anything bad happens to pets and as soon as I sense that something may happen to a beloved animal I check out. 

A book on my wishlist: I recently read Scorched by Wajdi Mouawad, and it was incredible! So I would like to find the time to read the rest of his ‘inheritance’ cycle of plays.

A favourite book from childhood: La Douane Volante by François Place, which is the story of a young boy from 1914 Brittany who finds himself in a sort of parallel universe based on a fantasy Belgium / the Netherlands and trains to become a physician. 

A book you would give to a friend: Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier.

A book of poetry you own: Hm. Does my anthology of Middle-English lyrics count?

A non-fiction book you own: Chernobyl by Serhii Plokhy.

What are you currently reading: Betty by Tiffany McDaniel, a family chronicle about a young girl growing up in rural Appalachia. 

13. What are you planning on reading next: The new Julia Armfield novel, Private Rites! I love Armfield so I am so excited.

I tag : @persephoneprice @coryo @the-tenth-arcanum @readingloveswounds @hrimceald @laminacore

xoxox

[harbinger-0f-spring]

Who is Ghislaine Volant and how is she related to the Rosier siblings? I’ve read the tree, but I’m just a little confused on their relation to each other.

Ghislaine Volant is the first cousin of the Rosier siblings through their mother Eglantine. Ghislaine’s father is Floxel Volant, the younger brother of Eglantine Rosier and the mother of the Rosier siblings.

[harbinger-0f-spring]

@konstantynowitz this would be a perfect aesthetic for Céléase Rosier tbh

Vinda x Queenie child

[thecclover-fanfictions]

Home Again

There was absolutely silence in the drawing room at Balmoral Castle. The main family circle was assembled and stared shock-faced around. No one didn´t really know what to say. A few minutes before they had got the terrible news: Lord Mountbatten, Uncle Dickie, was dead, murdered by terrorists.

Charles mind was empty. He simply couldn´t believe this, Uncle Dickie`s dead never was an option for him, least of all not a murder. There was no person he was so close to, beside his Grandma and…Slowly his mind begun to work again, he knew he wouldn´t find much comfort in his family now. Of course, they were all shocked and sad but, they had to go back to daily business as soon as possible. They were not a family who let themselves down. He simply couldn´t disburden his heart to his parents or the rest of the family, all had to fend for themselves. Of course, there was his grandma, the Queen Mother. She gave him love and safety but, she also demanded Charles to stay hard at some situations. Apart from that he didn´t want to become a burden to any family member, they all had to cope with the situation now.

Around the same time 400 miles southern Camilla tried to handle her daily routine. She had to do her house chores and to look after her horses and dogs and that means lots of work with a huge property like Bolehyde Manor. Constantly her two children rampaged around her, Tom was five and Laura one and a half years old, that didn´t make it easier. After lunch and bringing the children to bed she scuffled into her living room and let fall onto her sofa. Exhausted she breathed out and switched on the TV, expected to watch one of these endless, mindless soaps. But there was a breaking news coverage, she realized that an important person was murdered but, missed the name. Again and again the rest of a destroyed boat drifting in the water was shown and finally she heard the name. It took a few seconds until it completely came to her mind and now she sat there with wide eyes, her opened mouth covered with her hands and all what she could think about was Charles.

The telephone rang and she run over to pick up the receiver, panting: “Hello”. There was no answer, she only heard someone breathing and knew who it was. “Charles…Charles…I…I just watched the news…” Charles sobbed: “Oh…yes…it´s terrible…isn´t it? Quietly Camilla asked: “Do you want to come here?” This was the question his heart had waited for: “Yes. Yes, I will. Immediately. See you later!” Not waiting for her answer he pushed down the receiver, grabbed a few of his clothes and his toothbrush and put it into the next bag he could find. He took his jacket, slipped in any pair of shoes and rushed down the stairs to the rooms of his Grandma.

He burst into the room: “I have to leave, Grannie.” Queen Mum didn´t wonder, she knew since the scene in the drawing room what he would do. But his idea to drive the whole way by car wasn´t the best she decided, and chartered a plane for him. “Maybe you should not say good-bye to your parents. It´s better I tell them, especially your father…” Charles was relieved, he really wasn´t in the mood for an argument with Philip now. Tightly he embraced his grandmother and rushed out.

The flight seemed to be endless, he counted every second, he almost was about to go into the cabin to ask for more speed. Finally they landed and his Aston Martin Volante was driven to the plane. He entered the car and drove in full speed, ignoring any traffic rules. Anyway, he needed more than an hour to reach her, way too long in his opinion.  As he finally rolled over the drive way to Bolehyde Manor something behind a window moved, seconds later the door was open. He jumped out of his car, felt Camilla´s arms wrapping around his neck and pressed strongly against her body. Camilla whispered into his ear how sorry she felt for him, and that she would be there, and he could stay as long as he wished. He closed his eyes, he felt so relieved to be here, as nothing could happen to him anymore. And despite his grief and his clouded mind he felt something change. Her nearness gave him back a part of himself, now he was fully aware of how much he really had missed her. Slowly his hands caressed her back, his head turned around a bit, he kissed her cheek tenderly and got down to her neck. Camilla shivered, quickly loosened out of his arms and squeezed his hands.

At this moment Tom came to the door, a second later his little sister Laura emerged, both were absolutely excited to see Charles again. Laura squeaked: “Sir…Sir…” one of the few words she was able to speak. Tom asked Charles to play with his new toy cars and Camilla was relieved to escape the situation so easy.

After Tom and Laura went to bed they had dinner, although Charles was hardly able to eat something. More and more his brain realized what had happened. Tears run down his face and he sobbed. But the breakdown came later, as they sat in the living room and watched the news. Again and again the pictures of the exploded boat were seen, suddenly Charles broke out in heavy crying and his whole body trembled. He knew this was not the end of his grief, it was the beginning. But the huge lump in his throat was loosened now. Camilla switched off the TV, she was crying, too. She also was in mourn, she knew Uncle Dickie from their weekends at Broadlands and they liked each other. But most of it she was sad for Charles and could hardly bear to see him in such condition. She got nearer to him on the sofa, her right arm slipped under his bowed body, the left hand caressed his back softly and she laid her head down on him. The feeling of her gave him power and energy and after a while he calmed down a bit. He was able to eat something now and they remembered the times at Broadlands and they dug out the old jokes about Uncle Dickie. Charles could even laugh a bit.

It was very late now, Charles first went into the bathroom for a shower. Then he laid down on the bed in the guest room, with crossed hands behind his head he looked up to the ceiling, brooding about the day. After fifteen minutes Camilla came in, dressed into a washed-out T-shirt. His heart beat faster, once more as she sat down on his bed. Tenderly she covered him with the blanket and stroke his cheek. “Tomorrow you will feel better, I guess.” Charles took her hands: “I felt better in the moment I was here.” Camilla only smiled to him. Charles whispered: “I want to say Good-night.” Slowly he pushed her down to him and embraced her. His hands tenderly grabbed her upper arms and his lips touched hers, first very gently then more tightly. Camilla didn´t veto, she let him kiss a millisecond too long for “just” friends. His never abandoned hope to hold her in his arms forever grow a bit more immediately.

This night he didn´t sleep very well, of course. He didn´t only think of his Uncle, he still felt Camilla on his skin and lips. Since years he wasn´t so close to her like on this day. And now this wish to be with her, the wish he had locked in his heart for so long, came up with full power from the ground, impossible to push down again.

In the morning they all had breakfast together, afterwards Camilla had to do some of her chores. Charles played with the children, much to Camilla´s alleviation, finally she could work without the kids crawling around her. They romped around, rolled over the floor and laughed heartily. Tom loved every second with him. He always had fun with “Sir”, how Camilla always referred to him. This surname sounded a bit strange to Tom but, he didn´t mind actually.

After lunch the children went to bed for a nap. In the garden waited lots of work, with pleasure Charles assisted Camilla. He loved this as much as Camilla did and he could distract again from his grief. Kneeling side by side they weeded in the rose beetroot. First they chatted around and then Camilla asked him: “So, what about your current girlfriend?” Charles was overtaken by this: “Oh…yes…I…” Now he chuckled but, was a bit awkward. “Oh my god, I had completely forgotten about her. I didn´t call her for almost two weeks now.” “Oh Charles, this is really not nice! I mean…really…you can´t treat her like this.” Camilla looked at him but, he could feel, she wasn´t as concerned as she simulated. He smiled and rolled his eyes: “I know. But, at least, I never forget to call you.” Camilla looked down and whispered: “No, you don´t.” Charles was almost to do what he longed for so much. But now Camilla looked up to him again: “Charles, you know. You need a wife. You really need, there is no choice.” Charles heart beat faster and he took all his courage to grab her hand. “Yes, I know that…I need…a wife.” And hastily he added: “But I have the choice to take the right one.” Camilla breathed and took away her hand. “Oh Charles, please…” He jumped up and tossed away his gardening tool. With his hands steadied into his back he looked up in the sky. He deeply breathed, quickly turned around and got down again. Now he tightly grabbed both her hands and looked serious to her: “You know that I love you. You know that I love you more than anything else. I always did.” Camilla´s breath became uneven and she tried to get out of his hands. But he didn´t let loose her and continued to look into her eyes: “Listen to me…All the girls I have met were only a distraction from you. I didn´t love a single one of them. And you know that.” Camilla turned away her head and desperately sighed: “Charles, please….” He interrupted her by turning her head back to him: “I love you. I want to be with you. I want to be married to you! I want to be the father of your children!” He became louder and louder, in his excitement he almost screamed now. Camilla looked down on the ground, chewed her lower lip and he could see her cervical artery heavily pulsing.

He grabbed her shoulders and shook her a little: “Darling, let us…” At this moment Laura woke up and cried out of the half opened window. Camilla took the chance to jump up and run into the house. Charles breathed and his head sunk down. And suddenly he begun to brood: did she actually still love him? After her engagement to Andrew she never mentioned it to him again. Of course, she was very affectionately and attentively to him. But like a very good friend, not as a lover. He was not sure now. Well, sometimes she looked at him in her most special way and the kiss yesterday…But he was in a bad condition, maybe it was in sympathy.

The rest of the day they spent with the children going for a walk, having tea time, played around and finally having dinner. They didn´t mention the incident from the afternoon, Camilla simply went on with daily business. After bringing the children into bed she came down to the living room and kept standing in the door. “Would you mind terribly, if I will go to bed now?” she asked him. Charles was a bit disappointed, shortly looked up to her and then back in his book. “No, of course, not”, he lied, “good night then.” Hesitatingly Camilla turned around and went up the stairs. Charles was completely confused now, Camilla ignoring his words and the death of his uncle wore him down. He couldn´t concentrate on the book and switched on the TV. Mindless he zapped around.

Meanwhile Camilla was in her bathroom, shortly before a crying fit she hasted into the shower and turned on the hot water. Slowly she could relax, sat down with the water running over her body and tried to clear her mind. She knew these days with Charles would be a turning point in her life. Yesterday had unlocked something long suppressed in their hearts, she had to face it now. She had a family to care for, Andrew offers her this comfortable life, she has lots of friends but, something is missing. But what would be the prize for getting real happiness? And would it be happiness? A divorced woman with two children from another man living with the heir to the throne? The Duchess of Windsor came to her mind and she panicked. No, this was not the life she wants to lead. And of course this was not what Charles wanted for them. But, she couldn´t get back to normal now. Charles had spoken the words, it hung in the air…

Charles heard Camilla leaving the bath after aeons, he decided to go to bed as well. Maybe it would be better to leave tomorrow, he thought, he didn´t want to risk a row with Camilla. The hot shower let him feel better, but his mind was still clouded. He laid on the bed again in his boxers, switched off the light but, couldn´t fall asleep. After around twenty minutes he heard a quietly jarring, his door was only leaned. Someone tiptoed over the floor and stopped at his room. Maybe Tom? Quietly sighing he stood up, ready to carry the little one back in his bed. But it wasn´t Tom. In front of him stood Camilla, looking at him in a mixture of unsureness, desire and love. “Oh, hello…” was all he was able to mumble but, his heart was almost running now. She didn´t answer, he only heard her breathing and after an eternity he felt her hands grabbing his. Shivers run over his body, his heart stopped for a second. Gently she pushed him over the floor to her bedroom. Charles´s mind almost exploded, full of pleasure he sighed: “Darling….” Immediately Camilla laid her index finger on his lips: “Sshhh, the children!” He hastily closed the door and wanted to embrace her. But suddenly he was forced to stop, her view was amazing. The room was decorated into dimmed light, this let her hair shone and her eyes sparkle even more. His knees turned to jelly as his eyes wandered about her body. Her curvy silhouette and her breasts loomed under the cloth were breathtaking, she was more beautiful than ever.

Camilla couldn´t wait a second longer, she embraced him stormily and kissed him tightly. “I love you…I love you” she broke out agitated. He couldn´t believe this, he was frozen and not able to do anything. In his head echoed her words: “I still love you…I never stopped…I want to be with you!” Finally he was able to embrace her, too. He felt her tongue opening his lips and was in heaven. Her tongue circling around in his mouth drove him almost crazy, he begun to tremble while kissing her. It was what he had longed for so very much, how much he just realized now but, he couldn´t believe this was actually real. Again and again he opened his eyes to make sure it was Camilla who he was kissing so passionately. His heart burst with love as he watched her face adorned with bliss and happiness.

His body run riots. He was hot and cold at the same time, he could hear his blood running through his veins. Camilla felt that he was hardly able to stand on his feet any longer and gently pushed him back to her bed. Charles fell down, still holding her. She had butterflies in her stomach as she loosened from the kiss to watch his face. He looked at her in the same way he always did before her marriage. Yes, she had back her little prince who became a man meanwhile. But somehow it will be her little prince forever, she smiled. Slowly her hands glided down caressing his body, now and then she kissed him. Charles trembled and panted heavier the more she neared his boxers. As she freed his massive erection, he let out a deep groan and his back arched. Camilla chuckled and whispered: “Sshh, the children!”

But he was determined now, he had to see her naked, instantly.  Apparently Camilla had read his mind, she scrambled onto his stomach, took his hands and both stripped off her nightie. Charles almost fainted, her body wasn´t only adorable, it was to die for. Her curvy hips, her great legs, the cute triangle between them and those breasts! They seemed to be grown even more with her pregnancies, he couldn´t stop staring at her. His hands had loosened from his mind and already explored a well-known and still new area. He wanted to caress every part of her with his hands and his tongue, if he would survive this.

But his brain had stopped working, he had problems to concentrate any longer. His erection heavily ached, he had no idea how to hold out, just to imagine to be one with her soon sent him almost over the edge. Camilla felt how confused he was. She bent down, cupped his face with her hands and whispered, almost touching his lips with hers: “Darling, everything is alright. We have all the night!” Now he felt her tongue again, heavily he moaned into her mouth and as she took his hands and laid them on her breasts, it was all too late for him. He explored in a heavy orgasm, Camilla desperately tried to choke down his yells with kisses. He was away for a moment and needed some time to get back to reality.

As he woke up again, he found Camilla nestling to him. With a mischievous grin on her lips she played with the curls on his chest. Charles raised an eyebrow: “Whaaat…!?” Camilla didn´t answer, playfully she pulled a face and chuckled. Charles quickly turned her on her back, scrambled onto her, his legs on either side and pressed her down on the bed. “Do you laugh at me?” he tried to sound very seriously. Still chuckling Camilla stared at the ceiling: “Nooooo…” “Oh, wait! I will show you!” He bent down and started to kiss her on every sensitive point he could reach, still holding her tight in position. Camilla didn´t want to let him win, she tried to hold her breath and bit on her lips. But Charles caressed her in all the right places, his tongue tickled her right under her earlobes and slowly, very slowly glided down her neck to her collarbones. She got a gooseflesh but, still had pressed her lips closed.

He placed light kisses bit by bit along her collarbones, his tongue circled around in the hollow between them and she tried to move now. But Charles had still grabbed her tightly. He chuckled: “Just wait…” Camilla shook her head, she still was reluctant to give in. Charles wandered down to her breasts and now she knew there was no chance. His lips got down to her areola, she heavily panted now and Charles grinned. Now he paused, his lips directly over her already hard nipples. Her chest heavily sunk up and down, all what she wanted was to feel him now but, her lips were still locked.

Suddenly she felt his tongue circling around, loudly she breathed in and clenched her fists. And as Charles started to suck her nipples, she couldn´t help but open her mouth and heavily moaned. Finally Charles loosened his grip but, Camilla immediately grabbed his shoulders and pushed him down again. “Don´t stop!” she breathed. Charles smirked: “First tell me, I have won!” She moaned: “Yes, yes…you´ve won.” He kissed her, sucking at her tongue. “Good girl!” He wanted to continue now but, got up to her face again. Seriously he looked at her and stroke her hair. “Darling, I love you.” he whispered, “And I´m home again now. You´ve brought back heaven to me.” Camilla was moved by his words and the way he spoke to her. He always was so affectionately and attentively to her and now even more. “Yes, my darling, my…most…precious…darling” she kissed him after every word. “I love you, too. I always will, always.” Charles eyes sparkled and he got a longing facial expression: “I will, too. And I want to marry you, really!” Camilla laid her index finger on his lips again. “Sshhh, not now. Come, kiss me again. It´s so wonderful to feel you.” With pleasure Charles did so, he still couldn´t really believe to have her in his arms again.

He treated her like a treasure, bit by bit Camilla sunk down in his caresses. Every part of her body was met by his hands and tongue, she wasn´t able to speak any longer, she just let it happen. But she wasn´t only heavy sexually aroused, Charles gave her a warmth and so much love that she forgot everything around. Meanwhile Charles erection was in full bloom again, when not kissing he just moaned, he was desperate to feel her completely now. He scrambled between her legs, willingly Camilla spread them wider. His gaze fell on her sanctum, her wet lips and her swollen clit looked so inviting to him. Despite being in this world no longer, as well as his lover, he bent down and caressed her with his tongue, very covetous indeed. Camilla didn´t moan anymore, she wined, grinding her lower body against his mouth.

Charles wasn´t able to wait one second longer, immediately he was in her. Camilla winced and let out a relieved groan, her legs twined around his body, pressed him covetous deeper inside her. Charles arm slipped under her body, his hand grabbed her bottom cheeks to hold her as close as possible and to support their moves. His other arm slipped under her neck, holding her head in his crook of the arm. Camilla´s hands wandered up and down his back, over his waist and his bottom cheeks as well. Their sweating bodies moved faster and faster in the same rhythm, Charles gave her very hard shoves now, still holding her bottom but she had her feet to steady on the mattress yet. They tried to look constantly in their eyes on the way to their climax. It didn´t need long and both exploded in a mixture of yelling, trembling and seeing stars and colors in their mind. While shivers and waves of great pleasure run through their bodies, they tried to be clung to each other and kissed to suppress their moans, less successful indeed.

Tightly embraced they laid there for a while, Charles still on top of her, Camilla had wrapped her legs around him again. Slowly they were able to move again, they kissed lovingly, caressing all the parts of their bodies they could reach. And both felt they were much more in love than ever, there bond has grown again. Charles kissed her ear and whispered: “Home again, we are home again, aren´t we?” And from the bottom of her heart Camilla quietly answered: “Yes, we are home again.”

[world-of-wales]

HAPPY 12TH WEDDING ANNIVERSARY TO THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF WALES!

HRH Prince William Arthur Philip Louis and Miss. Catherine Elizabeth Middleton married in a religious ceremony on 29 April 2011 at Westminster Abbey in London.

Will and Cat were married by the Archbishop of Canterbury, while the Dean of Windsor conducted the ceremony and the Bishop of London gave the address.

Catherine wore a dress by Surah Burton of Alexander McQueen. The Royal School of Needlework's hand-made lace applique for the bodice and skirt incorporated the rose, thistle, daffodil and shamrock. She was lent the Cartier Scroll Tiara by her grandmother-in-law and gifted a pair of diamond earrings featuring acorns from Robinson Pelham by her parents for the special day. The bridal bouquet featured myrtle, lily-of-the-valley, sweet William, ivy, and hyacinth.

William doned on the red tunic of the Colonel of the Irish Guards uniform with a forage cap bearing the Irish Guards insignia and motto, "Quis Separabit?. He wore the Order of the Garter Star and Blue Riband to which his RAF Wings & Golden Jubilee Medal were fastened.

Upon their wedding they were conferred upon the titles of The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, Earl & Countess of Strathearn and Baron and Lady Carrickfergus by Queen Elizabeth II.

Following the ceremony in true fairytale fashion, the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge travelled in the 1902 State Landau in a horse-drawn carriage procession to Buckingham Palace. They appeared on the Palace Balcony for a RAF Flypast and shared TWO KISSES to the delight of the crowd gathered below and my 11 year old self's.

The official wedding photos of the couple with their families and wedding party were taken by Hugo Burnand in the throne room of Buckingham Palace.

A Reception for the couple and their guests was hosted at Buckingham Palace by The Queen while the then Prince of Wales hosted a further private dinner. The couple'a guests had two wedding cakes to choose from - a multi-tiered traditional fruit cake crafted by Fiona Cairns & William's favourite chocolate biscuit cake.

William and Catherine drove to Clarence House following the lunchtime reception in a blue, two seat Aston Martin DB6 Volante which was originally a 21st birthday gift to the then Prince of Wales by the Queen.

William and Catherine have three children Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis. The family of five they divide time between their official residence at Kensington Palace in London and their two private residences Amner Hall in Norfolk & Adelaide Cottage in Windsor.

They became The Duke and Duchess of Cornwall and The Duke and Duchess of Rothesay after King Charles III's accession to the throne and were made The Prince and Princess of Wales by him on 9 September 2022.

As well as undertaking royal duties in support of The King, both in the UK and overseas, The Prince and Princess devote their time to supporting a number of charitable causes and organisations with some of their key areas of interest being Early Childhood Development, Mental Health, Conservation, Arts, Sports etc.

[dustinchwe]

A very special day and a family date!

ㅤTras un mes de preparación, por fin había llegado el esperado día. El sol brillaba radiante, el calor se hacía sentir aunque no de manera intensa. La pequeña familia se dirigía emocionada hacia un parque privado en las afueras de la ciudad, listos para celebrar el tercer cumpleaños de su hijo. Dustin había organizado todo meticulosamente: rentó una zona con todas las comodidades junto a un pintoresco lago. El lugar ya contaba con una espaciosa tienda de campaña, mesas y sillas; ellos solo se debían preparar para disfrutar de un fin de semana especial.

ㅤㅤDustin estaba cargando lo último en el baúl de su vehículo antes de partir; Dymond y Toby ya se encontraban en el interior, sentados en sus lugares correspondientes. El pequeño iba seguro en su silla, a su lado llevaba algunos juguetes y comida para mantenerse entretenido durante el viaje. En cuanto terminó con todo, se subió al auto y tomo el volante mirando con una sonrisa a su chica y luego al pequeño niño que estaba emocionado. El era consciente de que celebrarían su cumpleaños en un lugar especial, así que estaba ansioso al igual que los adultos.

Estaban a tres horas de distancia, así que esperaba que ellos fueran cómodos, ya que si que sería un viaje largo. Durante el transcurso iban escuchando música y conversando, el niño miraba caricaturas en su tablet y por suerte, así se fue pasando el tiempo. Dust se sentía feliz por poder vivir aquel momento junto a ellos dos, pensaba que necesitaba escapar unos días y disfrutar junto a las personas que mas amaba.

Solo tuvieron una parada en una estación para cargar combustible pero luego pronto continuaron su camino, era un viernes en la tarde así que ya el sol comenzaba a ocultarse y en un momento el niño se durmió, por lo que el padre de éste se dio cuenta que necesitaba su manta para cubrirlo y no dudo en pedirle el favor a su pareja.

—Dy, ¿Podés tapar a Toby? por favor, veo que tiene frío, se ha quedado dormido.—tocó suavemente la pierna expuesta de la chica y la miró de reojo.

No se encontraban muy lejos, según el gps estaban a unos 30 minutos del lugar y fue así, incluso en menos tiempo llegaron al parque privado donde los recibió el personal que custodiaba la zona. Dustin gestionó el ingreso, mostrando su comprobante y datos personales antes de seguir el camino de tierra hacia su destino. El lugar era simplemente espectacular: rodeado de árboles frondosos, campos floridos y el tranquilo lago cerca de su campamento.

—Perfecto, hemos llegado. Se ve increíble, ¿No crees?—le habló a Dymond estacionándose cerca de la tienda de campaña.—Vamos, creo que a Toby lo dejaré dormir un poco mas en el auto, así preparo su cama.

Bajándose del auto, tomó la mano de la mas baja y la guio hacia el campamento. Observaron el entorno con admiración, y él la abrazó suavemente mientras le preguntaba con una sonrisa.—¿Te gusta?—sin esperar respuesta, la besó tiernamente, feliz de estar en ese lugar especial junto a ella.—Voy a bajar las cosas, vos quédate con Toby mi amor.

Se alejaron del lugar y el comenzó a bajar todo del auto para llevarlo al lugar donde estarían.