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anonymousewrites · 5 months ago

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Apple of My Eye Chapter Twenty

Harry Hook x Child of Snow White! Reader

Chapter Twenty: Some Things Never Change

Summary: Trouble begins to appear at Auradon

“Go,” said Uma, pushing Harry forward. Carlos gestured for Harry to knock on the door of Evie’s studio.

Harry squared his shoulders and raised a hand to knock. Behind his back, he held the bouquet of flowers tightly. Carlos and Uma watched with excitement as Harry decided to be forward and blatant with his affection for (Y/N), not just flirt through banter.

He knocked, and the door opened. Evie stood there. She glanced to the side, spotted Uma and Carlos, and grinned.

“(Y/N), someone’s here for you,” said Evie, opening the door wide and smirking.

“Harry,” said (Y/N), smiling as they saw him. They still wore his jacket, and Harry smiled.

“Highness,” began Harry. This was it. Ask them to be alone, and then be honest. “Can we—”

“Guys!”

Everyone’s heads jerked to the side as Jane came running down the hall. Her eyes were wide with panic, and, instantly, all thoughts of romance went out everyone’s heads. There was something bad going on.

“Jane? What’s the matter?” said Carlos, catching her as she panted and gulped down air.

“It’s Adrian,” said Jane. “He can’t speak.”

“Jane, that doesn’t feel like an emergency,” said Mal, furrowing her brow.

“No, it’s not that,” said Jane, shaking her head. “His voice is gone. Stolen.”

Uma straightened. “What?” That sounded suspiciously like the story of Adrian’s mother, Ariel, and Uma’s mother, Ursula.

“Does Ben know?” said Mal, going into queen-to-be mode.

“He’s heading to the infirmary right now,” confirmed Jane. “Adrian is already there.”

Evie looked at Uma. “How is this possible?”

“I don’t know,” said Uma. “I thought the shell—” she touched it on her neck “—was the only way to steal a voice.” She crossed her arms. “But I know what people are going to assume.”

Mal grimaced. “That the VKs cursed someone.”

“We’ll find the truth, one way or another,” said (Y/N). “I promise.”

“Let’s go and talk to Adrian. Maybe he remembers something strange that he can write down,” said Evie.

“Right,” said Mal, straightening her back and walking off.

Everyone followed.

Harry looked at the bouquet in his hands and sighed. He’d put it in his dorm until he had a moment. It seemed it wasn’t meant to be that day.

“Mal, you’re here,” said Ben in relief as Mal entered the infirmary with the group of VKs and (Y/N) behind her. Jay already stood with Ben, and Adrian sat on a bed as Merryweather shook her head.

“I am,” said Mal, taking his hand and squeezing it. She looked at Merryweather. “What is the situation?”

Merryweather sighed. “Adrian’s voice has been stolen or, at least, suppressed. He cannot form any sounds whatsoever.”

Adrian swallowed and nodded to confirm Merryweather’s words.

“I’m so sorry, Adrian,” said (Y/N).

Adrian offered a smile.

“How could this happen?” asked Evie.

“Magic,” said Merryweather. “There are traces of magic all around Adrian. However, I can’t determine the source.” She sighed. “I’m going to find Fairy Godmother, perhaps she can sense more.” She left the room.

“Are there any artifacts missing from the museum?” asked (Y/N).

“No,” said Jane, shaking her head. “That was the first thing my mother went to check.”

“This just happened out of nowhere,” said Jay. “We were at Tourney practice, and he was shouting plays, and then he started to cough, and then the coughs just stopped. No more sounds came from his mouth.”

“Did you see anything? Feel anything?” said Carlos, looking at Adrian.

Adrian typed on his phone and held the screen up. It read: It was a normal day. The usual people were watching practice, the cheerleaders were practicing routines, everyone was normal on the team. Nothing was weird until I felt a pull in my chest and had to cough like my life depended on it.

Mal grimaced. “So, everyone knows.”

“And the heroes’ll blame us,” said Harry, crossing his arms.

“No. There is no evidence any VK had anything to do with this,” said Ben, shaking his head. “I won’t let anyone be blamed without proof.”

“And we’ve seen evil come from all parts of the world,” said (Y/N). They looked at Harry. “I promise, we won’t let everyone turn on the VKs for this.”

Adrian nodded in agreement and held up his phone again. Not all VKs fault even if one did this.

“Exactly,” said Mal.

“Adrian!” Eris flung open the door of the infirmary and ran to her brother. She hugged him tightly and sobbed, and he hugged his twin sister back. “Are you alright?”

He smiled and nodded. He was, admittedly, freaked out from losing his ability to speak, but he wasn’t in pain. Fortunately, Adrain wasn’t dealing with that.

Eris let go of Adrian and turned on the group watching. Her gaze was furious, and black hair was a mess from where she’d run from swim practice. In short—she looked like a wild ball of fury. “What did you do?!” she demanded.

“Excuse me?” said Mal, narrowing her eyes.

“One of your people did this!” said Eris, gesturing at the VKs.

(Y/N) shifted in front of Harry and Uma.

“How else could my brother lose his voice? That’s a villain’s work,” said Eris. “I told him helping you all would just cause trouble, and I was right!”

Adrian grabbed his sister’s shoulder and shook his head in vehement disagreement.

“Eris, we don’t know who did this yet,” said Ben. “You can’t accuse people because of where they came from.”

“I know it’s one of them!” said Eris.

“Everyone in this room is a hero who saved Auradon,” said (Y/N). “They have proved time and time again that they’re heroes. None of them are villains.”

“They’re all from the Isle,” sneered Eris. “All they wanted was to get back to Auradon so they can punish us like the villains they are.” She stormed towards the door, pushing through the VKs. She turned and glared at Mal and Ben. “You’re supposed to protect us, and you led the villains right to our door.” She stepped out and slammed the door closed.

Adrian let out an inaudible sigh and ran a hand through his bright red hair, clearly apologetic for his sister’s view of the situation.

“Blamin’ us,” said Harry, crossing his arms.

“If people start to really think that a VK did this, they’ll start to be afraid again,” said Evie, eyes widening. “All of our hard work won’t matter—”

“Evie,” said (Y/N), grabbing Evie’s hands. “We’ll be alright. We’ll figure out who did this.”

“What if it is a VK?” said Uma, narrowing her eyes. “The people who wanted the Isle closed will tell us to go back.”

“Even if it is a VK, they’ll be given an appropriate punishment, but no one else will,” said Ben firmly. “Mal and I aren’t going to let an entire group of people be punished because one person did something bad.”

Uma nodded. She was there to protect her people, the people of the Isle, and she would fight to ensure their safety.

“Adrian, we’ll break the curse,” said (Y/N), smiling at Adrian. “You’ll get your voice back.”

Adrian smiled back at them softly and nodded. Then, he chuckled and looked away. (Y/N) tilted their head in confusion. Over their shoulder, Harry was glowering at their ex-boyfriend.

“Ben and I are heading the investigation,” said Mal, standing before all the volunteers. “We’ve got the police and Fairy Godmother looking into the magic, too, but we need you all to keep your eyes out, too.”

“All information needs to come to us so that we have all the facts,” said Ben. “Good or bad, Isle or Auradon suspicions. Alright?”

The group nodded. It was the original VKs—Evie, Jay, and Carlos, the VK mentors—(Y/N), Jane, Fleur, Herod, Esme, and Lizzie, and the newer VKs—Uma, Gil, Harry. Doug and Lonnie had arrived, too, to help support their partners. In short, it was the only group of people who weren’t being swayed by biases around Adrian’s cursed state and rumors of who could have done it.

“Do the police have any suspects yet?” said (Y/N), leaning forward.

“No,” said Mal. “Adrian has listed everyone he can remember from being around at Tourney Practice, and we’ve checked with those people for more names, but from the reports, everyone there is commonly at practice. No one out of the ordinary.”

“And Mrs. Goody?” said Harry (Mrs. Goody was his highly original nickname for Fairy Godmother after having to sit through a speech on how to be good—thankfully, no more Goodness 101, only detention for people who continued to act badly).

“She looked at the spell work around Adrian and his throat,” said Ben. “I don’t really understand it, but his voice isn’t stolen and stored anywhere. It’s suppressed.”

“So it’s unlikely it’s my mom coming back for revenge,” said Uma, relieved. The last thing they needed was the big villains to come back and to prove that redemption wasn’t possible.

“Right,” said Mal, nodding. “Instead of a stolen voice, it’s a silenced voice. It’s different.”

“If we figured out the exact spell or found the culprit, can we give Adrian his voice back?” asked Evie.

“Yes,” said Jane. “My mom told me that it’s lucky the spell is what it is because it’s not based on True Love like Ariel’s was.”

“That’s good,” said (Y/N).

“Unfortunately, that’s all the clues we have,” said Ben. “We need suspects.”

“Jane, do you have that list of people who are still angry at the Isle kids coming to Auradon?” said (Y/N). “From our last meeting?”

“I do,” said Jane.

“You think one of them is doing this? Why?” said Audrey.

“It seems rather silly to hurt their friends,” said Lizzie, threading an embroidery needle. The more nervous she was, the more she stitched (and she had gotten through a whole flower in one meeting). “Especially since Adrian is Eris’s brother.”

“That’s why it could be them,” said (Y/N). “They don’t trust the VKs. They believe they’re villains.”

“Oh, I understand,” said Esme, tying up her hair in an emerald bow. She leaned on her hand. “Throwing suspicion onto the VKs would make it more likely for people to turn on them, the people those kids think are being tricked. Like Frollo blaming my mother’s people for all evil so people would be fine with them being punished.”

“It’s clever,” admitted Uma. “Evil, even.”

“The troublemakers are Thea, Farley, Chad, and Eris, right?” said Herod, crossing his arms.

“Yes,” said Jane, consulting her notes.

Ben sighed. “We can throw Chad out. He’s not exactly…brave enough to do more than talk a big game.”

Audrey grimaced. “Yeah. He begged to work for me to avoid conflict.” She still felt bad about that.

“Took one look of me hook and ran off,” said Harry with a smirk. He was pleased to see (Y/N) stifle a chuckle.

“Eris seemed legitimately upset about her brother, so she feels unlikely,” said Carlos.

Evie shook her head. “But if the spell was intentionally lessoned so it’s easily reversible, then that would be exactly the type of curse Eris would place on someone she cared about, like Adrian.”

“Oh, right,” said Carlos.

“What about Thea and Farley?” said Jay. “Farley is headstrong. Kind of intense. And Thea is crafty.”

“Literally,” said Lizzie in agreement.

“Both have magic,” said Fleur. She sighed. “I hate to say it, but they’re fairy kids, like myself and Jane. Naturally, they have stronger magic than other people.”

“So they wouldn’t need an artifact?” said Mal.

“Right. They’d just need their basic understanding of spells,” said Fleur. “They could craft it from there.” Jane nodded.

“Okay, we’ll keep that in mind,” said Ben, nodding. He looked at Uma. “Uma, I hate to ask this, but is there anyone from the Isle that could have done this?”

Uma nodded. She knew that they had to investigate every option, and she really didn’t want it to be a VK, but there were possibilities. “There are a few kids who are still angry that they spent so long on the Isle while the kids in Auradon grew up in comfort.

“Aye,” said Harry. “They think all you royals are stuck-up and should understand what we lived in.”

“I’m sorry they feel that way,” said (Y/N), sighing.

“Not ya fault, Highness,” said Harry.

“But why wouldn’t they go all the way with the curse, then?” said Jay. “You know, make it only breakable by True Love.”

“They aren’t strong,” said Gil brightly.

“Yeah,” said Uma. “Mal and I are the strongest magic-using VKs, so the rest would probably need a boost in strength, like an artifact.”

“Or a lot of anger,” said Harry. “Which they could get tah.”

Everyone shivered at that idea.

Uma cleared her throat and waved a hand, moving on to business. “I’d say we have a few suspects from the Isle,” she said. “Francis—Frollo’s son—he thinks the people of Auradon are all corrupted, and only those who have suffered to grow ‘clean’ should be ruling.”

“Like himself?” said Esme, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah,” said Uma, grimacing.

Jane wrote down the name. “Got it.”

“Yvon, Ymza’s son,” said Harry. “Ball of fury. Nothin’ but anger at royals.”

“And, finally, Giselle, Mother Gothel’s daughter,” said Uma. “She and her mom are super close, so she’s inherited all of her mom’s grudges towards Auradon.”

“Okay,” said Mal, nodding. “Six suspects.”

“How are we going to approach this?” said Evie.

“If we split up—no one should be alone while someone willing to use curses is on the loose—then we can approach each person and figure out if their motives are deep enough to get them to act,” said Mal.

“Hopefully, we can figure this out quickly enough that tensions between Auradon and Isle kids don’t rise,” said Ben, grimacing.

Shouts rose to the windows of the clubroom, and everyone exchanged looks. Moving to the windows, they peered down at the courtyard below.

Dizzy was hiding behind her cousin, Natalia—Anastasia’s daughter—who was glaring at Eurydice—Rapunzel and Eugene’s daughter. The pair were shouting at each other, and other Auradon and Isle kids were beginning to crowd around, too, everyone mad at the other group.

The group in the clubroom looked at each other.

Tensions were already rising.

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#apple of my eye #x reader #gn reader #nb reader #x gn reader #x nb reader #harry hook x reader #descendants harry #harry hook #child of snow white #evie descendants #carlos descendants #disney descendants #descendants #mal descendants #uma descendants #disney #disney x reader

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milfjagger · 1 year ago

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posting this on its own as well :) template and idea from @trollmaiden and full guide/sources under cut

"La Belle Dame sans Merci” by Henry Meynell Rheam

by Ayami Kojima

“The Fairy Lovers” by Theodor Richard Edward von Holst

Gnomes from the novel The Little Grey Men, written and illustrated by “BB” (Denys Watkins-Pitchford)

Nyform Norwegian troll

“Little Red Mischief” by Amy Brown

Faery from “The Hallow” dir. Corin Hardy, SFX by John Nolan

Ariel from Shakespeare’s The Tempest, illustrated by Jane Ray

The Beast from Over The Garden Wall, created by Patrick McHale

“Morgan Le Fay” by Clive Hicks-Jenkins

Unicorn foal sculpture by SovaeArt https://www.deviantart.com/indigo-ocean/gallery

Faery from Good Faeries, Bad Faeries by Brian Froud

“Dusk” by Stephanie Pui-Mun Law

Honeythorn Gump from “Legend” dir. Ridley Scott

Oona from “Legend” dir. Ridley Scott

Flora, Fauna and Merryweather from “Sleeping Beauty”, art direction by Eyvind Earle

Bilbo Baggins from a Dutch edition of JRR Tolkein’s The Hobbit, illustrated by Kees Kelfkens(?)

Selkie depicted on a Faroese stamp

Chortlebones from Bella Sara, illustrated by Lynn Hogan

Huldra from the game “Year Walk”

The Sprite from Fantasia 2000, segment directed by Paul and Gaëtan Brizzi

and 23 Costume designs for Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream by Robert Courtneidge

As above

Tinker Bell from Peter Pan (2003) dir. PJ Hogan

Hoggle from Labyrinth, designed by Brian Froud and created by Jim Henson’s Creature Shop

Mr Tumnus from The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe dir. Andrew Adamson

Tom Bombadil from JRR Tolkein’s The Lord of the Rings, illustrated by Tim Hildebrandt

The Green Man (source unclear)

Illustration for Terry Pratchett’s The Wee Free Men by Robyn Haley

Truffle from Adventure Quest

Littlest Pet Shop fairy

Woodland Furby made by me :) Please do not call him cursed

The Psammead from the BBC’s TV adaptation of E Nesbitt's Five Children and It, dir. Marilyn Fox

Thranduil, King of the Wood Elves from The Hobbit, dir. Arthur Rankin Jr. and Jules Bass

Nøkken by John Bauer

Gizmo from Gremlins dir. Joe Dante, creature design by Chris Walas

Gollum from JRR Tolkein’s The Hobbit, illustrated by Tove Jansson

Soot Sprite from Spirited Away dir. Hayao Miyazaki

Gonk

“The Junk Lady” from Labyrinth; concept art by Brian Froud

Domovoi by Vladimir Chernickov

Falkor from The Neverending Story dir. Wolfgang Petersen, creature design by Patrick Woodroffe

Cherry Fairy from Webkinz

Titania from Vertigo Comics, illustrated by Matt Dixon

Wind Drifter, My Little Pony G1

#idk why the resolution is so bad but anyway

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iilllya · 2 years ago

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Overanalysing sad german cops part 7/?: Adam Schürk, Leo Hölzer + hope

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 can be found here, here, here, here, here and here!

Andrea Bartz, We Were Never Here / Alexandra Potter, The Two Lives of Miss Charlotte Merryweather / source unknown / Louise Glück, Poems 1962-2012 / bell hooks, All About Love: New Visions / Hermann Hesse, Narziss und Goldmund / Christian Kracht, Faserland

#ein bisschen hoffnung weil es immer hoffnung gibt #auch wenn du adam schürk bist #und denkst du wärst unrettbar verloren #das sollte mal jemand adam und leo an den kopf werfen #esther ich schaue hier dich an #außerdem ist es mir egal was in den filmen tatsächlich passiert #fakt ist dass adam nicht allein ist auf der welt und nicht machtlos und dass er sich ändert und dass er liebt und dass er geliebt wird #und dass er durchs kalte wasser der wahrheit ans ufer watet und leben wird bis zum nächsten frühling und dem übernächsten und bis zum #überübernächsten und überhaupt bis zu allem frühlingen die danach kommen und-#(frühlingen ist kein wort oder?)#anyway #have this #spatort #tatort saarbrücken #adam schürk #leo hölzer #hörk #for the spatort girlies (genderneutral)#tatort #web weaving #spatort web weaving #horresco #carmina

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zeciex · 2 years ago

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A Vow of Blood

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: “You will be trapped by the obligations of love and duty, unable to escape the web of expectations others have woven around you,“ the witch said….

Daenera Velaryon returns to King’s Landing with the intention of bolstering her mother’s position and reminding both the Greens and nobility that Rhaenyra is the rightful heir to the throne. She has a specific goal in mind: to be a constant source of annoyance to the Greens and is willing to play the political game without hesitation.

However, what catches her off guard is the way Aemond gazes at her and seems to relish in her suffering. He openly expresses his desire to bring about her downfall, her ruination.

This situation leads to a tense game of cat and mouse, with each move escalating the already high stakes. Will their precarious situation crumble as the dragons soar above, or will fate intervene?

After all, love often demands the sacrifice of duty, just as duty can sometimes lead to the demise of love. Characters: Aemond Targaryen X OC, HOTD characters.

Chapter 8: Schemes and Artisans

AO3 - Masterlist

A theater had been erected amidst the lush gardens of the Red Keep, its semi-circular structure complemented by the captivating backdrop of the vast expanse of the sea. The structure was a mix of marble and limestone, ornately carved, and had been built during the reign of Jaehaerys and Alyssan.

Daenera had arranged three elegantly sets of tables on the balcony, offering a splendid view overlooking the stage and the sea. Her invitations had been extended to esteemed guests, including Tris Caswell, the second daughter of Lord Merryweather, Kaylys Merryweather, Lady Fell, and Lady Sylvie Rosby. An invitation had also been extended to Queen Alicent, but that had politely declined, much to Daenera’s delight.

The early morning had been spent making the last preparations. The tables were filled with cakes and fruit, a colorful display of abundance and wealth, with the possibility of being watered with some of the finest wine Westeros had to offer. Daenera had chosen a colorful dress of orange and gold and her hair were braided in the traditional Targaryen way, keeping it from blowing into her face.

She was standing on the balcony, listening to the ladies talk among themselves excitedly, already indulging in the wine. The sun shone brightly and were it not for the shadow the stretched out fabric provides, they would surely have burned.

Jelissa hurried into the middle of the theater, her steps clicking over the pale stone. She looked up at Daenera, a bright smile on her lips. “We’re ready!”

Daenera nodded in acknowledgement.

Jelissa hurried away, letting the guards at the gate know that they could open. She then sprinted back to stand with Joyce by the side of the rounded stage, the table in front of them filled with leather pouches, brimming with unspent money and the promise of more to come.

A mass of people filed in through the gates. People of all colors, backgrounds and skills. Some were from Lys, some Essos, some Pentos. There were Westerosi singers, artists and musicians. Daenera smiled as they gathered by the backdrop of the ocean, all looking up at her expectantly.

“Welcome, my artisans!” Daenera greeted loudly, letting her voice carry out into the theater. “I am Princess Daenera Velaryon, daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon.” Her eyes were sharp as they filtered through the mass of people, lingering on the few that displayed some sort of scrutiny to her words. “I’ve always enjoyed the arts of music and dance, and with my return to the capital, I found myself able to finally show patronage to the thing that I love.”

It wasn’t the entire truth. While she enjoyed music, song and theater, she wasn’t as invested as some other ladies were to the arts. But the thing about artists was, that they traveled throughout the continent, singing their song, acting in plays, telling their stories. And such things held sway.

It was a tactic Queen Visenya herself had once used.

“My mother, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, has tasked me with finding artists to patronage. She too is a lover of the arts. We wish that you bring the joy you give us, out into every corner of Westeros. We wish you to sing your songs, play your tunes, and tell your stories to the people. That is our wish.”

And it wouldn’t hurt to sing a little something about her.

“Now, please, show us what you’ve got!”

Daenera looked down at Joyce, giving the maid a nod, who nodded back in acknowledgement. Joyce called out the first number as Daenera took her seat, picking up a grape and propping it into her mouth.

The first artist was a singer. He began with high appraise to Daenera, telling her about his adventures, where he had been, who he had sung for. That was the dreary part of the whole thing. She wasn’t interested in that, all she wanted to know was whether they could sing and what they’d sing.

The Bear and The Maiden Fair seemed to be a favorite among the singers and musicians. Each time it was sung, it lost its appeal, until Daenera would rather listen to Aemond call her a bastard than listen to it once more.

By the time they had reached number seventy seven, more than half the songs had been The Bear and The Maiden Fair. One third of what was left were Maids that bloom in spring, and the rest after that False and the Fair, and Flower of Spring and Little Flower.

It was then an older man stepped out into the middle of the stage, a lute kept close to his breast, dark beard kept and freshly shaved. At the corners of his eyes were crows feet and a deep line cleaved through his forehead. He bowed to the princess and her company. “I am Samwell Tradd, my princess. I have played the cold seat of the North, to the sand dunes of Dorne, but I have played for none other as important as your mother, the good princess, Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

This piqued Daenera’s interest and she stood from her seat, carrying the cup of wine with her to the railing of the balcony, which she leaned against with her forearms, squinting in the sunlight of the afternoon. “You played for my mother?”

“That I did, Princess,” Ser Samwell Tradd confirmed. “It was a pleasure to play for her.”

“What did you play?”

Samwell Tradd chuckled to himself. “ Under the Dragon's eye.”

Daenera grinned.

“She made me sing it… two dozen times over,” Samwell told the princess. “She would not hear another, only that, until my hand cramped and my voice was raw, and even then, she bid me continue.”

“Then would it not suit you if I asked you to play it again?” Daenera responded with a gracious smile.

“For you, The Realms Flower, I will play it again.” Samwell Tradd plucked a few strings on the lute, humming to loosen his vocal cords, and then began to sing.

She fled with her ships and her people,Her heart broken for those she could not save.Nymeria, fearless and wise, led with determination in her eyes. With ten thousand ships, she led her people’s flight, Across the Narrow Sea, seeking a new life.

Under the dragon’s eye, they sailed so far and wide, Nymeria and her Rhoynar, their hopes and dreams allied. Through hardships and trails, their spirits remained high,Bound by a destiny, under the dragon’s watchful eye.

Through stormy seas and treacherous tides they roamed, Leaving behind their homeland, their past disowned. With strength and resilience, they faced each new day, Guided by Nymeria’s wisdom, they found their own way. Through shifting sands, they found their place, United under Nymeria’s willful grace.

So let the tale be sung, of Nymeria’s nobel quest, Of the Rhoynar’s journey, their resilience put to a test. Under the dragon’s eye, their spirit never broke, A testament to courage.

Under the dragon’s eye.

“…Under the dragon’s eye,” Samwell Tradd finished.

Daenera exchanged a knowing nod with Joyce, who discreetly handed the singer a pouch filled with jiggling coins. It carried more than mere currency, it was a symbol of her endorsement, and more significantly, Rhaenyra’s endorsement. Unspoken expectations were attached to the weight of those coins, urging the singer to spread the good word of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the Realms Delight, and the Rightful Heir to the Iron Throne.

While some noble houses disregarded the significance of the common folk, Daenera recognized their importance. After all, it was the small folk who dutifully paid their taxes, who ensured the smooth flow of goods, who tirelessly toiled to create the fabrics and wines that the nobles delighted in. Though unaware of their latent power, the small folk held a sway over the very fabric of society.

And with the small folks' support, they could sway their lords and ladies.

By the time the sun had dipped down behind the horizon, Daenera’s head was buzzing with wine, sun and song. Fragmented lyrics sailed around her skull, not able to gather enough strength to become a full song. Lady Fell had left the younger ladies to their own devices, citing exhaustion. Daenera couldn’t blame the older woman.

“Have you heard about Prince Aemond?” Kaylys Merryweather said, fanning herself with the fan, her cheeks flush with the wine. She smiled covertly. They were all leaning back, enjoying the otherwise quiet. Daenera had called it quits, telling the remainder of the performers to come back on the morrow. At the mention of Aemond her head propped up again.

“That someone tried to poison him?” Lady Sylvie Rosby quipped behind her own fan, crumbs littering her chest from all the cakes she had indulged herself in. Kaylys Merryweather and Lady Rosby shared a look.

“I heard that it was an allergic reaction,” Tris Caswell interjected.

“An allergic reaction? Please, that is the excuse you use for covering up poisoning,” Kaylys Merryweather criticized. “Someone poisoned his sword.”

“Do they know who did it?” Daenera inquired, her voice raw and tired.

Lady Merryweather shook her head, her blond strands whipping over her shoulders and back again. “They have no idea. Some say it was a failed assasination-,”

“Oh please,” Daenera groaned at the grotesqueness of that statement. If she wanted him dead, she very well would have used something else, something less obvious and that left little to no evidence. An assassination with poisoning, should either be quick or drawn out over time, the ladder creating less suspicion if the poisoned had a history of illness. No one would suspect a thing after a long bout of fever and illness. People simply dropped dead of that.

“A scorn lover then?” Lady Sylvie suggested.

“Or Aegon,” Tris proposed. The women all nodded in silence, thinking. “Aegon is known for his absurd pranks.”

“But would he harm his own brother?” Lady Sylvie asked. Aegon would most definitely harm his brother for his own amusement , Daenera thought.

“I saw his hands. They were swollen and red, the poor thing. The Maesters said that they’d itch and burn for a few days, and there was little they could do.”

“It’s just awful,” Lady Sylvie continued in a huff. “If the princes aren't safe from such attacks, then we’re all at risk.”

“I severely doubt you are at risk, Lady Sylvie,” Daenera cut in. “Why would an assassin or prankster target you?”

Lady Sylvie blinked at Daenera’s cutting words. Daenera wouldn’t entertain her with pretends of importance. Lady Sylvie might be a lady, but she wasjust a lady. She was neither heir nor the first born. Her brother was more of a target and her father even more still. Her words seemed to have struck a chord and Lady Sylvie glowered.

“I personally think Prince Aemond is quite handsome,” Lady Merryweather continued, ignorant to the tension. The second daughter to Lord Merrywhether were betrothed to one of the lower houses of the Reach, the name of which eluded Daenera. The Lady was five and twenty, a crone by small folks' accounts. She was allowed to dream though.

Everyone stared at her.

“What?”

“He's been maimed,” Lady Sylvie chided. “He’s a one eyed prince. And have you seen the scar? It's so grim and disgusting. If it had been me, I would have flung myself from the highest window in the Keep.”

You may yet do that .

“I think he’s handsome,” Lady Merrywheather reiterated. “And strong and tall. I can overlook the scar and maiming for the handsome side of his face.”

“You’ll have to sit at his right side then,” Daenera muttered, head throbbing with the subject of Aemond and ‘handsome’ in the same sentence. If the cutting edge of a knife was handsome, then she supposed Lady Merryweather was right. “Or perhaps it’s best to sit where he cannot see you.”

“What do you think he’s got hiding underneath his eyepatch?” Tris quietly asked.

“Not his eye,” Daenera responded, bored with the conversation.

They ended the evening not long after, scattering to the winds while the servant’s cleaned up and prepared for the day after. Daenera had dismissed her maids after presenting them with a piece of cake each and kind words for a job well done. Jelissa had been extremely excited, rambling on about her favorite singer, while Joyce teased her relentlessly. Daenera watched them go, turning on her heels to take the long way back to her quarters, heading through the garden.

The rose bushes barely managed to overpower the smell of the city. On days where the wind came from land, it was especially rough. But on this day, the gods had graced them with a mild sea wind. The sky turned golden as the sun disappeared below the horizon, the last rays keeping the gardens from falling into shadow.

Daenera took a deep breath, trying to clear her heavy head, rolling her stiff neck from spending the day on her ass.

“You’re quite creative, I have to give you that,” Aemond’s voice split her quiet apart, the sound like a pick beating against stone, splitting it in two.

Daenera’s shoulders immediately tensed up and she breathed out an annoyed huff. “You’re out of the infirmary.”

“Poisoned sword,” Aemond hummed, approaching her. It was strange to see him here, in the gardens, surrounded by soft beauty. It had been just as strange to see him in the sept, though there the heavy smog had coiled around him, curled up the nape of his neck, hung around him like a cloak of shadows. Now he was bathed in golden light that made him seem wholly unholy.

He was no man of flowers. He was a sword, meant to cut, to stab, to bleed one dry. A weapon.

“If it were poison you’d be dead,” Daenera corrected him. “Or severely sick. As I’ve heard, you must have had an allergic reaction to something.”

His scoff was sharp and dismissing. “An allergic reaction?”

“Those sometimes take a few days to recover from. I believe you’ll be back to your pristine state before the feast.”

Her gaze flickered across his face, trying to decipher his intentions, though the wine clouded her thoughts. From his cheekbones down to the curl of his smirking lip, she studied him briefly before refocusing on his eyes, masking the curiosity clawing at her insides with thinly veiled sympathy that bordered on mock pity. “Does it ich terribly?”

Daenera squealed when Aemond gripped her arm, pulling her into one of the alcoves of the garden. They were totally enclosed by an overgrown pavilion, the vines climbing up the columns, to spread across the roof. She balked at him, ripping her arm out of his grip, noting the bandaged hand. “What are you doing?!”

“You vicious little cunt,” Aemond sneered, his face contorting in disdain.

The wine not only made her cheeks flushed but it dulled her senses as well. “Mmm, call me that again, I rather enjoy it.”

Aemond’s eyes were all fire and ice. They burned with an intensity she hadn’t yet seen, with something utterly terrifying and vicious. Something with teeth and claws and breath of fire. “I should punish you, and tear you apart.”

“What are you going to do, bend me over the knee like a child?” Daenera taunted him, flipping her braid back to its proper place, her eye glaring daggers at the prince. “If I remember correctly, you were the one to start this. You burned me. Or have you forgotten?”

Daenera raised her bandaged hand and provocatively waved it in front of his face. He had burned her writing hand, and she had retaliated by making it itch so intensely that he might desire to peel off his own skin. All she had done was to respond to his initial transgression. They could have maintained their distance, preserved civility, but he just had to bother her.

With a mocking expression, Daenera glanced down at his hand, then back up at him. “Oh, was it your swordhand? Can’t have a little fun without it?”

“Do you believe I won't retaliate?” Aemond bit at her. “Do you think I’m oblivious to your schemes?”

Daenera blinked.

“Talking with Caswell, befriending his daughter, the musicians. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“I have no idea what you’re alluding to,” Daenera feigned ignorance.

“Surprising, I must say,” Aemond taunted with a sly smirk. “Your feeble attempts are bound to fail, I will make sure of it, Lady Strong. ”

Aemond advanced towards her, a predator stalking its prey, his teeth appearing sharp as fangs in the warning light. Shadows enveloped him, accentuating his sharp bone structure, tracing delicately over his features. In the dim light, he became the embodiment of wickedness. There was an inherent darkness within him that would forever resist any semblance of light of purity.

It was as intriguing as it was frightening.

Her back collided with a stone column, and the tendrils of the overgrown vines brushed against her bare shoulders, entangling with her hair. She swallowed, feeling the dizziness intensify from the wine.

In an instance, Aemond’s hand clasped around her jaw, his fingers digging into the delicate flesh of her cheeks, reminiscing of their encounter in the sept. Her eyes widened, and she fought against his grip, attempting to push him away as her heart picked up speed.

Aemond absorbed her strikes against his chest as if they were nothing, a menacing growl emanating from deep within him, gradually morphing into a coarse chuckle. “I’m only giving voice to what is so plain for everyone to see.”

“That is treason!” Daenera growled.

“It is the truth, is it not?” Aemond asked amused at her anger. “ That’s why you play your little scheme with the lords and ladies, so desperately hoping to forge alliances in case your mothers imprudence comes to light. Should it not be my sweet half-sister who’s out here, tirelessly forging those alliances? Shouldn’t she be the one fighting tooth and nail to secure her own place as heir to the throne?”

“Aemond,” Daenera warned.

“It’s what they’re all thinking,” Aemond continued maliciously. “Along with wondering whether you take after her.”

Daenera tried to pry her face from his grip, but he held fast.

“They’re all wondering whether a marriage to you is worth the risk. And weather you are as impudent as your mother…” Daenera beat against him, growling at the insult. “They think ‘will she carry bastards and try and pass them off as true borns’.”

The scent of smoke and crackling fire surrounded her as Aemond drew nearer. With each beat of her heart, a surge of heat cascaded down her spine, coiling in the depths of her belly. Her gaze darted between his piercing blue eye and the eyepatch, as if they would tell her something she didn’t know, and then lowered to his lips, drawn into a sharp sneer. Her heart shuddered in her chest, her gaze burning with intensity.

“I am going to ruin you,” Aemond vowed. “I’m going to ruin you, consume you, destroy you.”

In a fleeting instant, his gaze descended to her lips, carrying a wicked and malicious gleam, brimming with both hatred and an unnameable, devastating force. His thumb brushed against her lips, a menacing gesture that threatened to smudge the lip tint she had applied to accentuate one of her redeeming features. If her mind had been clearer, she might have sunk her teeth into his thumb.

Aemond’s pale locks tickled the exposed skin of her bosom as he leaned in, his breath scorching against the delicate shell of her ear. “I’m going to destroy you and win this war.”

He abruptly released her and Daenera pushed him away from her, breathing heavily and forcefully, eyes ablaze with indignation and fury. Who did he think he was?

She sneered. “I will take out your other eye before I let you destroy me. Two can play at this game. And if you burn me, I will burn you.”

Once again, Daenera found herself feeling from the suffocating presence of Aemond. Clutching her skirts tightly, she propelled herself forward, each step one of panic and determination. The corridors of the Keep blurred as her hurried steps echoed, giving rise to the feeling of the ghosts laughing at her.

King’s Landing had become a treacherous maze of power and deceit, and Aemond embodied the shifting tides of its dark underbelly. His transformation was undeniable, a chilling embodiment of calculated malevolence and an untamed chaos. He was an unpredictable storm she had to venture through.

As Daenera ascended the stairs, the weight of realization settled upon her. Aemond’s presence had already begun to creep under her skin. She would have to root it out and shield herself from it, but she had a sneaking suspicion that the seeds of darkness he had planted wouldn’t be so easily removed. She supposed it was a challenge she would have to accept.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #hotd #A Vow of Blood #my fanfiction #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon

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cherryrainn · 2 years ago

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I'd love to see headcanons of the Disney Princesses if that's okay. What would Cinderella, Aurora, Pocahontas, and Moana do if their noses grew like Pinocchio? Whether it be lies or some other reason.

━━ ✧ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

─ ✩ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ; i had so much fun coming up with these! hehe, thank you for your ask

─ ✩ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ; none

𝘾𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀𝙇𝙇𝘼 ★

cinderella's nose grows when she's telling a little white lie to spare someone's feelings. for example, if somebody asks her if she likes the dress they're wearing and cinderella wants to be polite, her nose would give her away.

the first time it happens, cinderella would be utterly shocked and wouldn't understand what's happening. she might even try to hide it behind her hand or by turning her head away.

cinderella might turn to her fairy godmothers to figure out how to reverse this unusual affliction, leading to a charming and magical adventure.

she might use her growing nose to her advantage, playfully poking fun at herself, making it a source of laughter rather than embarrassment.

in the end, cinderella's little spurt would always serve as a reminder to stay true to herself and others and never pretend to be something she's not.

𝘼𝙐𝙍𝙊𝙍𝘼 ★

aurora is known for her grace and charm, but she might find herself in situations where she has to exaggerate a little for the sake of diplomacy or to please others.

at first, aurora would be utterly shocked and likely scared when she notices her nose growing. the sudden change would catch her off guard, especially considering her usual grace and composure.

flora, fauna, and merryweather notice aurora's predicament and decide to teach her the importance of honesty. instead of scolding her, they guide her through creative solutions to navigate the challenges of royal life without resorting to falsehoods.

aurora became a master of elaborate hairstyles, using cascading curls and intricate braids to cleverly conceal her lengthening nose.

understanding the importance of honesty, even in diplomacy, Aurora honed the skill of delivering truths with a touch of diplomacy, avoiding the need for exaggeration.

𝙋𝙊𝘾𝘼𝙃𝙊𝙉𝙏𝘼𝙎 ★

pocahontas' nose would rarely grow due to her honest and straightforward nature.

pocahontas, being introspective, takes the nose growth as an opportunity for self-reflection. she spends time alone in nature, meditating on her recent actions and trying to pinpoint the cause of the deviation from her usual honesty.

pocahontas, being resourceful, uses elements from nature to creatively conceal her growing nose. leaves, flowers, and vines become natural adornments that not only hide the physical change but also align with her connection to the earth.

she turns the experience into a lesson for her community, emphasizing the importance of honesty and personal growth.

𝙈𝙊𝘼𝙉𝘼 ★

moana's nose grows occasionally when she optimistically overestimates her navigational skills, assuring her people during challenging voyages.

moana views the nose growth as a symbol of cultural misalignment and immediately seeks to realign herself with the traditions and values of her people.

she takes time to engage with her community, learning more about their concerns and aspirations to better navigate their collective journey.

she uses the nose growth incidents to refine her navigational skills, becoming not just a wayfinder but a beacon of truth and reliability for her people.

#DISNEY PRINCESSES #disney princess #pocahontas #moana #cinderella #aurora #the sleeping beauty #pinnochio #ask #headcanons

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fragileizy · 1 year ago

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Not to be weird but I saw this and thought of you haha

https://www.tumblr.com/merryweather-media/754314206491344896/date-with-a-cat-girl?source=share

here's the link to it!!!

this is so sososoososoo cute. THIS IS SOOSOOOSOSOSO CUTE!!!!!!!!!!

#speakizys

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gael-hightower · 2 years ago

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The literary works of Lord Gael Hightower, Master of the Arts

While not every piece that Lord Gael Hightower works on reaches the public, at twenty-nine years of age the Reach's Master of the Arts has put into the world pieces that are both politically and socially relevant, as well as others that are more intimate and emotional works.

Collection of sonnets: Gael began publishing his poetry in his early twenties under the pseudonym Hadrian Dunn to hide from his father, who never approved of his son's artistic inclinations. The work became beloved by nobles and the literate common folk alike, appreciative of the author's emotional vulnerability while making clever use of historical and religious symbols in the works. In the present day, as it has become well-known who the author of that poetry is, the sonnets have been compiled and bound in a tome of poetry, occasionally called The Dunn sonnets.

The Ballad of Thorns and Roses: This was the first work by Gael after being appointed Master of the Arts by King Cedric Tyrell. The Ballad is a trilogy of plays, written in exquisite verse, which chronicle relevant events of the Reach in a fictionalized manner. To some, the tragic trilogy not only represents the current zeitgeist of the Reach, but is a profound exploration of unavoidable and timeless conflicts of loyalty, justice, and revenge. Each of the three plays was first performed at The Garden Court theater in Oldtown, but the theater company has performed them in several regions within the Reach by now.

Civil war work: During the period of turmoil caused by the false king Alaric Tyrell and his wife, Sienna Merryweather, Gael wrote several poems that reflected the situation of the realm and offered solace during such a harsh period. None of the pieces were overtly political at first glance, though with deeper analysis there are clear symbols and literary devices in place to denounce Alaric and his false queen, as well as those who sided with their faction.

He who speaks with the voice of the gods: This epic poem consists of one thousand stanzas and is an ode to Lord Leyton Hightower's participation in the reclaiming of Alaym. While Leyton is never mentioned by name throughout the work, there are enough clear references within the poem to make it very clear that he is the source of inspiration for it. Through the epic poem, the author grants his brother epithets that both allude to his identity as well as uplift him as a legendary figure (High-hearted Hightower, the Voice in Alaym, Shepherd of the Just). In this work, Leyton is immortalized as a most unlikely hero, detailing all stages of the septon's presence in Alaym: his arrival to the battle-torn region in Andalos, his unfaltering stance to avoid violence as he did the gods’ work, the ethereal silence that fell on the camps as he spoke to encourage the men in the camps, and his last stand prior to the return to Westeros.

#gael: headcanon #will add more stuff here as i come up with it #the ballad is very shakespearean; very illiad #leyton's poem is more free-form; more pale fire nabokov style while keeping the homer larger-than-life themes

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incorrect-quotes-of-moonacre · 2 years ago

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Maria: We have a problem

Robin: No, you have a problem. I have an idiot that keeps making them.

#idk source #maria merryweather #robin de noir

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celticincubus · 6 months ago

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This is why Caseoh is the ultimate bro. You don't even have to know him personally to get the vibes he would be that way in person.

The fans are not always reflective of their source of content, which is sad. Unless the creator is a creep, there is no reason to ever get defensive to the point of slandering another creator.

Besides, if Hideo FUCKING Kojima likes the "weird virtual character," they must be fun and engaging. And if you don't know anything about them, try looking them up yourself, instead of watching someone else react to them. Get your own organic experience to see if you can find why their fans are passionate and what makes them fun in positive aspects.

I don't know why this became a bit of a soapbox for a minute. 😄

Basically, this is why I love Merryweather, who tries to create stuff that makes you learn to appreciate things by piquing your interests through very wholesome and/or humorous approaches.

Pekora & Caseoh

#caseoh #pekora #merryweather

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priyeshmeenasourceandsign · 1 year ago

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BLOG-7

Grand Theft Auto 6: Abstract OF REAL LIFE

SOURCES: INTERTEXTUALITY IN MEDIA

There are a lot of insane situations in the GTA 6 teaser, some of them are even directly influenced by actual events. I've always enjoyed finding Easter eggs in the games I play, frequently spending additional time looking for those tiny gems. Rockstar Games are known to use parodying in their Grand Theft Auto sequence.

Curriculum Vitae

The term intertextuality is defined by Julia Kristeva as the transposition of one (or several) sign system(s) into another. Kristeva urges a departure from the 'banal sense of "the study of sources."' (In-text citation)

For Example:

Easter Eggs

Parody

The similarity between GTA IV, GTA V, and the upcoming GTA 6

Those Shots in the trailer are similar to what Rockstar Games did in the Past with GTA IV AND GTA V Games. GTA IV's emphasis on different gangs gave the game a realistic crime drama feel, but GTA V was overly preoccupied with the FIB/Merryweather and dull rich individuals like Weston. Still, Liberty City felt more "real" than Las Vegas, which may have been the intention of the developers. But, the map of Grand Theft Auto V is far too dominated by an enormously pointless rural area. There are a lot of scenes in the games that are based on real-life events or locations like The Vinewood Von Crastenburg Hotel (Based On The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel) in GTA V.

The Von Crastenburg Hotel & Resorts network appears to be modeled after the Hilton group. However, the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel was most likely the inspiration for the company's Vinewood location. It is situated at the intersection of Clinton and Meteor and has restaurants, nightclubs, and swimming pools among its facilities.

Scenes In GTA 6 Trailer Based on real-life news stories

Some of the more absurd shots in the Grand Theft Auto VI teaser are essentially news articles.

Racist Women comes with hammers

Rockstar Games included this event in the trailer of GTA 6 even though it's from Los Angeles and not Florida, where the environment (Map) of the game will be based. A woman verbally and physically assaulted her neighbor. She had two hammers with her so she could smash up her neighbor's car. In the GTA 6 teaser, a woman is also seen carrying two hammers in the same manner.

Crocodile walks into the supermarket

Another shot from the trailer is a crocodile walking into the shop. CCTV footage of a crocodile barging through the front door of a store appears in the GTA 6 teaser. This is also based on a real-life event where an alligator showed up at a Florida Walmart's front entrance in 2013.

Police Officers Chasing Naked Man Running on Highway

Another non-Florida event was this naked man running from police in Canada. Even the style of mobile phone footage is identical to a moment seen in the GTA VI trailer.

In Conclusion

The creative way that each real-life events are integrated as an Easter egg gives this storyline a brilliant touch. Grand Theft Auto's core attraction is intertextuality, which is well demonstrated in the GTA 6 trailer. Several examples demonstrate how well Rockstar Games can incorporate real-world elements into its virtual worlds. From Easter eggs and parodies in Grand Theft Auto IV and V to the forthcoming Grand Theft Auto VI, the series has evolved to intentionally move towards greater realism with GTA 6. Scenes that mimic viral news stories like the crocodile invading a store or the woman wielding a hammer show that rockstars want to create immersive experiences for users in GTA6. Adding a Viral News story in the game can be a good way to attract young audiences towards the game, as it can be in the form of realistic character interactions, relatable locales, or events modeled after real-world occurrences. All things considered, young audiences stand to gain a great deal from the inclusion of realism in games as it encourages empathy, critical thinking, connection, and curiosity, all of which contribute to a more fulfilling and meaningful gaming experience.

References

Kristeva, J. and Moi, T. (1986) The Kristeva reader. https://ci.nii.ac.jp/ncid/BA00525868.

Petty, T.E. and Campbell, M.W. (2023) GTA VI - TRAILER. Published by Universal Music Works on behalf of Wild Gator Music (GMR) and Wixen Music Publishing, Inc. as agent for Gone Gator Music (ASCAP) and NotoriousJBPSongs (ASCAP) Courtesy of Universal Music Enterprises, a Division of UMG Recordings, Inc. 4 December. Available at: https://youtu.be/QdBZY2fkU-0?si=HWi1wszybeulaxEr (Accessed: 01 January 2024).

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