#Awkward-Sultana

[awkward-sultana]

(Almost) Every Costume Per Episode + Catherine the Great's teal gown with pink bow and trim in 2x09

[hurremshiv]

What about the virgin vs the whore stereotypes even though they were both concubines in a harem with children?

@awkward-sultana That is very interesting.  @minetteskvareninova​ and @redxluna have also talked about this and how it factors into how Ayşe Hafsa sees them. She sees Mahidevran as the 'Madonna' and Hürrem as the 'whore'. But it is something that does get reinforced within the show as well. Hürrem does get slutshamed on occasions throughout the show. In addition to the focus that her romantic life has. Both in her relationship with Süleyman (in which she is presented as the 'manipulative seductress') and in her past with Leo (where the show actually does subvert the trope, since Hürrem never has the affair with him that she is accused of). Whereas Mahidevran's most important relationship with a man is with Mustafa, her son. She gets presented in a far more 'Saintly' way.  As the 'suffering martyr' and the 'woman who has been set aside'. And add to this the fact that when Hürrem taunts Mahidevran, it's often specifically because Mahidevran isn't going to halvet, or that even when she does Süleyman won't sleep with her. It's a stereotype and the 'Catherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn' effect in action. Hürrem is the catty woman who stole her man and makes fun of her in vulgar ways. While Mahidevran no longer has him and she only has her son (never mind everyone in the Dynasty aside from Süleyman) to cling to for support.

And Mahidevran’s arc of falling out with Süleyman as @faintingheroine​ has pointed out is unique because she is the only woman on the show who gets to fall out of love in a dignified way. Hatice and Nigar both die because of circumstances resulting from their love for Ibrahim. And where Hatice is presented as a martyr in her own way, she is not given dignity in her mental health struggles, in a similar way to Hürrem. In both cases, their pain gets romanticised. In Hatice’s case it’s because of how the show romanticises Ibrahim and because of its bias in favour of blood royals. And in Hürrem’s case it’s because the show romanticises the idea of her sacrificing herself for Süleyman. Whereas Nigar gets an ending that feels far more like the cautionary tale of an adulteress than anything else, even though it should be framed as the tragic end to a woman who was used by a powerful man and had her life ruined because of him. Which is offensively misogynistic and, given the show’s bias in favour of blood royals such as Hatice, classist as well. This is something that @faintingheroine​ has pointed out (since she is a Nigar stan) and I completely agree with her on it. Going back to Hürrem vs Mahidevran for one second, the contrast between the dignity of Mahidevran’s falling out of love and Hürrem’s experience of love for Süleyman is very apparent. Particularly since the show essentially victim blames Hürrem for having Stockholm syndrome. The argument basically boiling down to the idea that ‘if she wasn’t so blinded by love and she saw him for who she was she could have saved her children’. And while you could argue that over the decades of her life at Topkapi she surely should have been able to see him for who he was and gotten over her feelings and trauma, I don’t think this applies when she is never allowed to leave the toxic situation that caused her to have Stockholm syndrome in the first place. She is never safe enough that realising this, confronting him, or trying to leave are viable options for her. So unfortunately Hürrem gets the unfairly short end of the stick with this. Which ties into one of the main reasons why I am Team Hürrem instead of Team Mahidevran in the first place. Because often the ‘first wife who was cast aside’ character gets upheld at the expense of the ‘second wife who replaced her’ and that is absolutely the case with Hürrem and Mahidevran. And what it comes down to with Hürrem is something interesting. The show both blames her for being too loyal to Süleyman and also romanticises her sacrifice for him. So either way she loses. Because either her pain gets romanticised or she gets victim blamed.

It’s interesting that Hürrem often gets told that she’s ‘replaceable’ as an ‘own’. Not just by Mahidevran but by Hatice as well. And we also see Hatice tell her that ‘she’s no longer the beautiful young woman she once was’ (COMPARING HÜRREM IN HER EARLY 30S TO 17-YEAR-OLD HÜRREM BY THE WAY) and then there’s the whole menopause débacle with Fatma. All of which are at Hürrem’s expense for being ‘vain’ and ‘too obsessed with a man’. That said, I think the cheating scenarios are interesting because there is the ‘karma’ element but there is also sympathy for Hürrem (such as when she tries to kill herself). That said, the show has sympathy for her because she was going to sacrifice herself for him and that gets framed as romantic rather than it being about the fact that this traumatised and isolated woman was lonely, stressed and exhausted (as well as the fact that Hürrem shows a tendency towards suicidality throughout much of the rest of the show). I have seen people make fun of her and call her weak and pathetic for trying to kill herself over Süleyman when Mahidevran only did that after Mustafa died. They are arguing that Mahidevran was a good mother and stronger for handling rejection better. This ignores the different circumstances that they were in and how they informed their reactions.

Overall when it comes to the other women who challenge Hürrem’s role as favourite, there is a degree of the show wanting to have an ‘own’ on her (’this is how you made Mahidevran feel’, and I think that is inherently judgemental of Hürrem for her sexuality). But they do tend to get overly sexualised as well. Isabella has that bizarre and cringey scene where she undresses for Süleyman. And Firuze’s arc is also worth unpacking. Because Firuze is also a character who gets sexualised by the series. The trope that she is an example of, ‘the Eastern spy who ensnares and seduces a man’ is inherently sexual. And there’s the fact that when she dances for Süleyman, she wears so little clothing. I have seen people compare her to Hürrem in order to do their own version of the Madonna-whore complex, where Hürrem is better because she ‘didn’t have to show skin’ to get Süleyman’s attention. And that is problematic in and of itself. But there is also the issue, because she is a Persian characrer played by a Cansu Dere, who doesn’t ‘look as white’ (for want of a better way of phrasing this) as Meryem Uzerli, of Orientalism and racism. Because there is a very real intersection of misogyny and racism when it comes to tropes around and the perception of Asian women. And the dance is definitely a moment that plays into ideas around the ‘fantasy’ of ‘Eastern women’. And this is definitely something that needs to be borne in mind when one sees the comments that are essentially slutshaming Firuze. Although I think the show intends that scene to be more of a ‘girlboss’ moment in Firuze’s case than it is judgemental of her. That said, it shows that who could play each role wasn’t necessarily fixed. Even though for the most part it was. Especially in the Hürrem vs. Mahidevran dynamic.

Anyway, women having agency over their sexuality is a good thing, and judging them for it is wrong. But even acknowledging that, there is the issue of consent that needs to be dealt with. Because Süleyman was the Sultan, and the women he was involved with were either his slaves or (in Hürrem’s case after episode 40) his former slave whom he freed (aside from Isabella, but the less said about that trainwreck of a storyline the better). So there is a tremendous power imbalance that makes consent far from a straightforward issue. It’s not as if any of the women can say ‘no’ to him. Gülnihal is uncomfortable with sleeping with him because of how Hürrem would react but still has to, Viktoria literally says ‘no’ but he persists and rapes her, he exiles Hürrem for refusing to sleep with him if they don’t marry, and Nazenin is a teenage pawn who is given to this old man so she can have his child because Hürrem is going through menopause (thanks I hate it). All of these are deeply problematic in terms of consent. However, this is often just subtextual. And the show doesn’t really do much criticism with regards to this idea at all. So it really goes to show that the series tends to judge its female characters as if they have more agency than they really do. And it’s one aspect of the sexist bias and unwillingness to genuinely engage with power structures that are present within the series.

[capinejghafa]

My bad didn't see you already made them!

No worries! The only ones I didn't tackle truly were Materialki (there wasn't a whole lot), Healer (I tried to add a little to the heartrender/nina), and sun summoner. I hope you enjoy the sets 🙂❤️

[elcoco005]

How I would rewrite MC (in a better way)

Magnificent Century is a frustrating show because it has so much potential, yet the writing can be so dumb at times.

I actually have a google doc called "Magnificent Century rewritten correctly" in like 3-4 seasons. Basically I improved & kept the best plot points, so no unrealistic murder plot with Sadika for example. It's more historically accurate, the characters are still flawed but don't act like immature and sociopathic brats half the time (like sending poison left and right & burning others' face as if that would just be left unpunished), the unbalanced power dynamics between slaves & dynasty members are more explored & Nigar would still be the best.

Also the harem would be shown way way more horribly than in the show, like Sadika character wouldn't be a spy just a normal harem girl coping with rape by the Sultan, exploring the idea of consent within a harem where all women are slave, even if Suleyman and other dynasty members never see it that way.

I would also like to keep the historical harem rules, especially the one concubine one son because it would 1/ Make Mahidevran more sympathetic since all her actions would be for her son's future and not out of misplaced possessiveness for Suleyman 2/make it more significant when Hurrem goes back into the Sultan's bed

I would also explore how Mahidevran & Hurrem both telling their sons they're the true heir & future Sultan create tension between the two brothers, just to show how the empire dynamic messes up even something as pure as Mehmet & Mustafa relationship.

Ibrahim and Hatice would still be wed thought, it's historically inaccurate but it's just too smart story wise to have them together, especially since I would explore Ibrahim potential feelings for Suleyman & how, since he can't have Suley, he unconsciously goes for the closest thing : his sister. Also I would leave some cues about how bad a match Ibrahim is for Hatice, because even if Ibrahim has a soft spot for her, he doesn't truly love her and she's obsessed. It's unhealthy.

I would also explore Valide's past way more. Have her have more conversations with Mahidevran about having to share the Sultan, having to protect her son Suleyman from his own father Selim I which would be foreshadowing for Mustafa's fate. I would love for Valide to express more often how afraid she is of Suleyman turning like his father Selim I.

I have a lot more but I'll stop for now! Tell me what you think!

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: We speak to those beyond. 3668 words.

1986

Time was not linear. Nor was it circular. It was an overlapping collage of everything that had ever happened. A compressed murder board. A grimoire swallowed whole. Eddie remembered it all.

A century of Eptesicus fuscus, a shell of consciousness. Hawkins. A sickness. A witch’s healing hand. Before that, the flatlands. A coven. You. Oh, you, his little witch.

“Those are not your apples.” Cleansing crystals by moonlight. Amabel, little witch. Lonely vampire. Collecting flowers and berries. Green milkweed. Unconditional good. A forest gate. “Bloodline magic, far and wide.” A bet, a kiss, and a name.  “I envy your world of absolutes. And I love you so.” Marguerite du Bruyeres’ letters to Guillaume du Bruyeres. Unmistakably vampire carnage. Blood of my blood.

Eddie let you slip onto the pillow, then escaped out of the trailer and into the early morning. The sun would rise soon but he needed to move. Run. Scream.

The sisters – Sally and Gillian. Penelope, the spellcaster. “By your hand he is taken and I die on this night, or you let us go and free yourself of this burden.” Transformation. Walking through the grass. Black-eyed Susan, tansy, elecampane, yellow carnation, cyclamen. Blood of my blood.

He remembered who he was before you. And before Roanoke. His accent and gait may have changed, but he was the same sad, doomed soul he’d been then. Still a monster.

Eddie sobbed. He went to the forest gate on the outskirts of town and laid in the grass, looking up at the starry sky, letting the shame and horror and regret drown him.

What was he to do? How would he tell you? Should he tell you? Would you be able to see it on his face?

He waited until the very last minutes of night to return to Forest Hills. Eddie moved slowly through the town; slowly, at least, for him. He could picture it all now, how it used to be. The dirt roads. The vacuum of quiet that proceeded the era of constant electrical white noise.

You slept well into the morning, but roused yourself before midday. Eddie was watching Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope. He seemed immersed, so you went about making breakfast. Assam tea with cocoa husks. Oatmeal with sultanas and brown sugar.

There was an awkwardness to Eddie when you sat next to him, curling up close enough to touch. Your mind cycled through possibilities with rapid fire speed. The notion it kept circling back to was – did he regret kissing you?

“Chewie reminds me of the creatures that live in the woods. Have you seen them? Over in the north-west?” you asked, trying to break the ice.

Eddie nodded. “They are shy,”

“Yeah. The humans don’t know about them. Well. They do, but most of them think it’s a hoax. They’re considered cryptids… Which is like, an animal or creature that may or may not exist…” You were rambling. “When they see one, they call it Bigfoot… But Chewie definitely looks like one.”

Eddie didn’t answer. You hadn’t appeared to notice the significance of him remembering something, even something innocuous like the existence of things in the woods.

You finished eating, washed your dishes, and returned to the couch. Star Wars ended and you had no real choice but to address the atmosphere.

“Are you okay?” you asked Eddie.

He looked at you, something in his expression you couldn’t quite place. He nodded. “Yes… Perhaps on edge regarding what your Witches will tell,”

“Yeah… Well then, let’s not put it off any longer.”

Directing Eddie to sit across the room, you knelt at your altar and lit two candles. A pale blue candle for truth. A darker indigo candle for intuition and breaking through illusion. With paper in front of you and a pen in hand, you closed your eyes.

The Witches Who Came Before were always with you, so you needn’t call for them. Instead, you spoke to them with clear intention.

“It is not my place to question you. But it is your place to guide me. To offer truth. Long ago, you foretold of us leaving the flatlands. Then, you warned me of returning. What would have happened if I had heeded that warning?”

The temperature of the room dropped and the air grew thick. Eddie felt his skin tingle and prickle, a frisson of fear and excitement running through him.

“I know you see him for what he is. Without him, Vecna would not have been defeated. Can you say without doubt that he would have been without my intervention?”

It was a challenge to them. If you and Eddie hadn’t destroyed Vecna, could your coven have stopped him? Could all the witches in the world have stop him? Maybe, sure. However, somewhere deep down you knew the answer. Vecna did not belong to this plane of existence. He wasn’t even of the world he inhabited. And a witch can only fight within the boundaries of the natural world.

If you had not come to Hawkins, if you had not found the bat and restored Eddie to his vampire form, Vecna would have taken the town, then the world.

The Witches were silent. It told you that you were right.

“You said that not all callings are sanctified, but that the voice calling me was coming into focus for you. Do you know what brought me here?”

The flames flickered and your hand picked up the signal. The words scrawled along the paper faster than you could read.

“Life and Death have no voice… They do not come calling in the night,” The Witches said. “Their siblings are to follow suit, yet they are wayward in their youth,”

“Which of their siblings called to me?” you asked.

“Destiny was formed in shattered ruins.”

The letters were so unfamiliar, you weren’t sure which witch was speaking to you. It didn’t matter. You had an answer. Destiny had broken free of the rules and reached out to you, urging you to come to Hawkins.

“If I was fated to return to Hawkins, then I was fated to find him?”

Y. E. S. was written over and over, the word tracing itself again and again.

“Why me?”

“Like calls to like. Fate to fate. Love to love,” they said. “History will not repeat itself,”

“A history I do not remember.”

For a moment, quiet. “Lore must be rewritten. You must remember.”

You looked over at Eddie, who could not see any of the words on the page. He was watching you intently, something so human behind his eyes.

“How?” you asked The Witches. “How can I remember?”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic.”

You didn’t understand but it felt like enough information that you could figure it out. There was one more thing you needed to know. “The coven… Did I betray them or have they betrayed me?”

“Knowledge is… a creator’s prerogative.”

The pen dropped and the flames were snuffed by an unseen power. You breathed out and read the pages again. Eddie came to sit opposite you. He took the paper.

“Destiny is… a sentient thing?” Eddie asked.

“It’s not meant to be. Forces like fate and life and death shouldn’t… proactively… change the course of what happens on Earth. Not for good reason,”

“I assume we will not hear this reason from Destiny,”

“No… But… It’s an answer. I was called here to find you so we could kill Vecna.”

It was a hypothesis you had both considered. It should have felt satisfying to have it confirmed, yet it was a shallow kind of resolution.

“And, it had to be you,” Eddie said. He knew why it had to be you. No other witch would have saved a vampire. It pained him to see you confused and lost.

“When I get my memories back, I’ll know why it had to be me,”

“By definition. Blood for blood. Magic for magic,” Eddie read off the page. You nodded. “By definition, you are a witch, you are magic. Therefore, it is through magic that you will find your memories,” he reasoned.

It clicked into place in your mind. “And by definition, you are a vampire… blood… so… Through blood you’ll get yours back?” you guessed.

When you looked up at Eddie, you expected to see your own excited expression mirrored. Instead, there was restraint. He broke eye contact almost immediately and began to nod, standing up and walking away.

“Yes. Although I don’t-” he began.

“Stop,” you whispered.

You got up and followed him across the room, he took a step to move away from you but you grabbed him by the wrist. Eddie was helpless as you squinted your eyes and studied his face. When you figured it out, a small gasp slipped from your lips and you let go of him.

As you went to speak, your voice cracked and you had to start again. “How long?”

Eddie said your name with too much softness.

“No. No. Don’t… Don’t do that. How long have you remembered? Do you remember everything? When… When did you remember?” You felt like you were going to throw up.

It hurt.

Not the nausea or the sudden headache, but the deceit. You had thought you and Eddie were a united front. A team. But he had lied to you.

“Only last night, but-”

“Last night?! Was that before or after we…” You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Now that your face was contorted with fear and sadness, Eddie’s mirror yours.

“Please, let me tell you. I’ll tell you everything,” he begged. His hand reached out; he wanted to brush the tears from your cheeks.

You flinched and Eddie moved back in response.

Had you been stupid to trust a vampire? Was everything you felt about Eddie misguided? Were all your bad decisions going to lead to a reckoning, where excommunication was the best outcome you could hope for?

Eddie wanted desperately to spill it all out. To tell you everything that had happened in 1836. To warn you against trusting your coven. To help you find your memories, and maybe Kelsey’s too. But the more he pushed, the more you pulled away. He’d never had faith in anything, but he demanded it of himself in that moment. Have faith in fate. Have faith in his little witch.

Your mind was having trouble holding any one thought. Normally, you’d be cycling through them all, but it felt like your brain was empty. Long hallways leading to unfurnished rooms. Cavernous spaces. Haunted. You were frozen on the spot, watching Eddie watch you. Then, everything came into sharp focus at the sound of a knock on the trailer’s front door.

The tension was popped and you choked back a half-sob. Eddie hid himself in the bedroom, closing the door behind him, as you answered. He climbed onto the bed and curled up, regret washing over him as he closed his eyes and listened.

Sunlight poured in as the door swung open, Robin and Nancy’s shadows casting long across the trailer’s carpet. You frowned, at first, confused by their appearance. The grief was so intense that it was almost an entity standing beside them. You understood then.

“Hey,” Nancy greeted weakly.

“Hi,” you replied.

It felt strange following a normal social script with them. Yet, you all persisted.

“This is Dustin,” she introduced, taking a step to reveal a child standing behind her.

You knew who he was and nodded politely in his direction. He was already crying. Sighing, you looked away from them, out at Forest Hills. Life was returning to it, but you had been too busy with your own shit to notice.

“It might be too early for this,” you told them.

“It’s past midday,” Robin countered.

“No, I mean, too early in the grieving process. It’s only been a couple days,” you explained.

“Are you saying that… He won’t… Answer us… yet? Or that we aren’t ready to talk to him?” Nancy asked. “Because, no offense, but you don’t know us well enough to tell us if we’re ready,”

“We’re ready,” Robin added.

You sucked your bottom lip in, forgetting the split. You winced at the pain, tasted the blood. The blood. Was that how Eddie got his memory back? Had he kissed blood from your mouth and found history in it?

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” Dustin squeaked. The boy’s face was pure misery. His nose was red from rubbing it with tissues. His eyes were bloodshot. He was clenching his jaw.

Stepping aside, you nodded. “Okay. Come in.”

Eddie stayed where he was, knowing it was not his place to intrude on such a private event.

You cleared the altar in the middle of the lounge room and directed the teens to sit around it. They watched as you gathered items from around the place and mumbled to yourself while scribbling into a notebook.

“Where there is death, there have always been attempts to commune with the dead. It is not a practice that belongs strictly to witches. Since the beginning of time, humans have sought out methods to speak to those they’ve lost. Where connection has been made, it is usually more to do with the dead than the methods of the living, but nonetheless, it has happened.”

Nancy was listening intently, ever the student. Robin and Dustin both looked at each other, sharing inpatient expressions.

“It’s important to understand history. If you want to participate in the craft, you owe it at least that,” you told them. “Our way of bridging us and them is dependent on the dead. How they appear is dictated by them entirely,”

“What does that mean?” Nancy asked.

“It means, I can send them a message and open the doorway, but if and how they walk through it has nothing to do with me. They could send a single message back. Just an echo I hear. Their form may appear, ready to hold conversation. Alternatively, they may close the door and lock it. You need to be prepared for any of these outcomes,”

“He’ll want to talk to us,” Dustin said. “I know he will.”

You hoped he was right.

If the altar was at the center of an invisible pentagram, you placed an object at each point. A small plate of chunks of cedarwood, burning slowly. Black onyx. Sprigs of vervain. A bowl of moon water. Finally, a white candle burning at where the top of the pentagram would be.

You sat at the altar and used a pin to open a tiny wound in your finger. Closing your eyes and letting the blood roll down your hand, you spoke. “I offer my blood, the blood of a born witch, in payment of passage into the ether.” You opened your eyes and looked at the teens. “You can call to him,” you instructed.

They looked between themselves, silently figuring out who would go first. Naturally, Nancy took a deep breath in. Her eyes glazed over with tears. Her voice was small. “Steve? Are you there?”

She looked to you for guidance; you nodded for her to continue.

“Steve… It’s Nancy… Robin and Dustin are here too… We…” She had to stop to steel her nerves. “We miss you. And. Um. We… we wanted…” It was suddenly impossible for her to say the words ‘to say goodbye.’ Nancy started to cry.

“Hey- hey, dingus,” Robin took over. “Are you there? You’re probably busy… hitting on ghost chicks already… But, um, if you could just… just tune in for a minute…”

Everyone’s attention snapped to the bowl of water as it shook and spilled. You felt him first. Warmth. Steve Harrington felt warm.

“He’s here,” you told them. “He’s listening.”

They all focused, trying to sense what you did. Slowly, his outline was becoming visible to you. He was behind his friends, leaning against the trailer’s wall, by the door. Steve’s arms were crossed against his chest and one leg was folded, foot flat against the wall. He appeared casual, already at peace with his death.

“Your friends wanted to say goodbye to you,” you said to him.

“Are you like…” Steve waved his hands in the air. “Like a witch?”

You nodded.

“All this is… Are you a- a good witch?”

“Was that a genuine question or are you quoting The Wizard of Oz?” you asked him.

Robin covered her face with her hands as Dustin rolled his eyes.

“I thought dying, might, you know, level him up?” Dustin whispered through his tears.

“I can hear you,” Steve said.

“Does he know we tried… we…” Nancy cut through the comedy with her grief, getting stuck on her words again.

Steve nodded. He moved through the trailer, his form semi-transparent and snapping with residual energy. He sat next to you, looking over at his friends. 

“He knows you tried to save him. He knows you didn’t want to leave him there,” you told them.

“Tell Dustin that he doesn’t need to feel guilty. I’m glad he wasn’t there,” Steve said.

“It’s good you weren’t there, Dustin. Steve is thankful you were safe and that you didn’t have to see him in the end,”

“And tell him that he’s the coolest kid I ever knew. That I figured that out on the train tracks. He’s cool and he’s so smart. Twice as smart as me. More, probably. He’s gonna grow up and be the kind of man I wish I was.”

You watched Steve as he spoke. The way he looked at Dustin with admiration in his eyes. Like this kid who probably worshipped him was actually the hero of the group.

You relayed Steve’s message word-for-word. Dustin whimpered and let Nancy wrap an arm around him.

“Thanks, man,” Dustin managed to get out. “I love you.”

Steve looked to Robin next. “I don’t know how to explain it to her,” he told you.

“It’s okay. I think she’ll understand,”

“Yeah… That’s it though. She gets me. And I get her. Like… I feel normal around her. I can just be… me. She’s my best friend… I have a shit load of regrets but not knowing Robin sooner is right at the top of that list. Tell her… that she’s so much braver than she thinks she is. And that she’s smart in a way nobody else is… And that she totally deserves to be loved. And not by some girl who keeps it a secret. Nothing like that. She deserves the whole love story movie thing… romantic comedy with the happy ending. Can you tell her that?”

You could and you did.

Robin nodded to herself in a self-soothing action, then pulled her knees up to her chest and started to rock. Steve frowned at her.

“Tell her that she should still go on the trip we were thinking about,”

“He says you should still go on the trip,” you said to her.

Robin barked out a broken laugh. “Sunshine, beers, and babes,” she said.

“Oh! And tell her if someone pauses Fast Times at Ridgemont High at 53 minutes and 5 seconds, she knows what it means.”

Robin laughed again and nodded. “Noted.”

Steve nodded along with her. “Maybe she should take Nancy on the trip. They’d actually make really good friends if they got to know each other,”

“I think they’re doing that,” you told him.

“That’s good…” He looked at Nancy. “I had the chance to tell her everything, near the end. Got some of it… Tell her… Shit. I don’t know how to say it without sounding like I’m blowing smoke up her ass,”

“You’re up Nancy. He needs a second. Says he doesn’t know how to tell you what he needs to without sounding like he’s blowing smoke up your ass.”

Everyone laughed. Except Steve. He held his hands up in question. “What the hell, man? You said you were a good witch!”

You liked Steve.

“Okay… She needs to really believe what I told her. About how she really helped me stop being such an asshole. And that it’s okay how it ended between us. I was stuck in the present but Nancy sees the future. Big plans, you know? She should know that’s a good thing.”

As soon as you started to give Nancy the message, she burst into tears again.

“Tell her that I love that she always trusts her gut. And that she’ll always look so hot with a shotgun… And tell her that I’ll say hi to Barb for her.”

The room fell into silence after the last of Nancy’s goodbye was said. Nobody was ready to move on just yet. After a few minutes of reflection, Steve’s form began to flicker. He knew what it meant. When you sat up straight, the others all looked at you.

“I gotta go,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” you replied softly. “Here. Hold my hand.”

Steve frowned, unsure of what would happen. Still, he thought it best to do what a good witch said. He took your hand and felt a zap of electricity or something magic.

“Any last words?” you asked him.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. The others all gasped. Steve looked to them then back to you. “They can hear me?”

Robin started to sob again. Dustin nodded.

“Oh, shit, okay. Shit… Hi… Shit…”

“It’s okay,” you told him, squeezing his hand.

“Yeah… Uh… Just… It’s okay, you know? It… it had to be this way. There’s already plenty of Steves in the world, you know? But there’s only one Dustin Henderson. One Robin Buckley. One Nancy Wheeler. The world needs you guys. So, it’s okay. I’m okay. I love you.”

The others cried and said goodbye. They held each other and let themselves feel it all.

Steve’s hand slowly faded out of yours, until there was nothing left but his warmth and the memory of him etched into his friends' minds like love letters swiped through wet concrete.

End Note: This chapter was written very much in collab with @dr-aculaaa, my resident Steve expert. Thank you so much! I hope you like how the scene turned out.

Chapter seventeen is a little bit of an interlude, it's an ode to both Steve and to the magic that runs through this story. But also... now she knows Eddie knows... yikes.

Grimoire updated!

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

All Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @sweetpeapod @thorfemmes  @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob  @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @mel-the-fangirl @eddies-hid3out @siren-lungs @aheadfullofsteverogers @hiscrimsonangel

[humasahsultanimsworld]

Same Costumes: Ayşe Hafsa Sultan and Mahidevran Sultan

@awkward-sultana 💓

[faintingheroine]

I like that the “Vintage Nihal”’s head covering is a bit like that of the women and girls in Magnificent Century:

(MC gifs are by @hundredthousandtimes @valyrianpoem and @awkward-sultana respectively)

It is not completely the same of course, but it is a bit similar.

MC of course completely ignores the fact that these women had to cover themselves more while interacting with men. So they kind of settle for this more halfway covering. I like it, it is fairytale-like and aesthetic.

As for “Vintage Nihal”, she presumably didn’t have to cover that much due to her age. The adult women in the photo are more covered:

@redrosecut

[sevgilisultana]

𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐲

𝐇𝐮̈𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐧, 𝐇𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐮̈𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐧

*𝐠𝐢𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 @awkward-sultana*

[julyzaa]

Hopeful

Or where Nigar and Matracki Nasuh Effendi stay married and get the happy ending they both deserved.

@faintingheroine i finally wrote it!!!

Gif by @awkward-sultana

She was not foolish enough to believe her husband would immediately fall in love with her nor her with him.

In fact, him not divorcing her after Ibrahim told him about their affair, had been her only goal for the most part.

Nigar thanks Allah for giving her a man she knows she does not deserve.

Nasuh Effendi is kind, understanding and gives her freedoms most women envy her for.

He is quiet in those early months when they are strangers married to each other and she pines for the man who made her believe a life without him would have no meaning.

Then after he wakes up in the middle of the night in a frenzy to write down this discovery he found in his dream; Nigar listens attentively to his rambling about something he calls lattice multiplication.

Something in her decides it is time to give this wonderful man a chance. To open her heart to someone who genuinely cares for her and would never treat her like Ibrahim treated her.

“Can you teach me?” she asks and he almost stutters with a yes.

Nigar Hatun looks forward to seeing him and surprising him a set of swan quills in a box carved with her favorite miniature of his.

It was supposed to be a gift to thank him for the lessons in algebra and the form of calligraphy he has invented, but after a bout of illness at the harem yesterday, it became a way to tell him the good news.

She prays it is a boy, one to follow in his father’s footsteps and show Ibrahim she never needed him to be happy.

“Our children will play together, they will be inseparable like their fathers.” Hatice said as she congratulated her wholly unaware of the great betrayal Nigar and Ibrahim hide from her.

“Amin.” Nigar says with guilt gnawing at her heart.

One would think the guilt she carries is for the blood on her hands and not for having an affair with a married man.

But Nigar shoves that down and lives in the moment where Nasuh almost cries from the joy the news gives him.

Nigar finds herself hopeful enough to imagine a future where she loves her husband and he loves her.

When Esmanur is born, she knows her friends and neighbors are being ridiculous when they say he will be disappointed in her.

How could Nasuh be disappointed when he was the one who chose her name before he left for the campaign at Mohács?

We wait for your return, she had written in her latest letter, one that included a sketch of Esmanur napping with her little thumb in her mouth.

They write to each other, no longer as friends, but as lovers.

It had been a gradual thing and before she knew it, Nigar had fallen in love with her husband.

While neither spoke about it out loud, it was there.

She feels nervous, as nervous as she felt on her wedding day the day he returns.

“I love you.” She whispers to him when she gets up during the night to check on their daughter.

He won’t hear it, she thinks, the journey had been long and tiring, besides Nasuh could sleep through anything anyways.

“I love you too.” Her husband says it back just as quietly as she did.

[writingsofwesteros]

https://www.tumblr.com/awkward-sultana/731118413651542016/almost-every-costume-per-episode-elizabeth

alicents sister swearing loyalty to the greens after she found out her husband (harwin) is having an affair with rhaenyra, she started wearing green everyday

Bless, and she's so conservative as well ..for now.

Harwin had not even noticed, too distracted by the births of his sons

[redxluna]

While it’s absolutely fine to address how Hatice’s overall poor mental health can affect her character, each time I see someone over on the YT channel call her “psycho” or anything of that nature I just...

(taken from this excellent awkward-sultana gifset, of course)

[awkward-sultana]

Before vs After Mehmet's Death (requested by @skynerd157)

[zahri-melitor]

The extraction of this reluctant promise had one beneficial side-effect: the Vorrutyers proved willing to let their captive audience go, the better for Ivan to hurry home and call Emperor Gregor. Lord Dono insisted on detailing his car and a driver to take Ivan the short distance to his apartment, thwarting Ivan's faint hope of being mugged and murdered in a Vorbarr Sultana alleyway on the way home and thus avoiding the consequences of this evening's revelations.

Oh Ivan You Idiot.

He would attempt to wander into the caravanserai on his way home to avoid how awkward that meeting with Gregor could be.

[mihrimahsultan03]

My favorite yellow dresses:

Part: 2

Gifs by: @awkward-sultana and @kosem-sultana

[lachicavoltron333]

My dear, you fell in love with a monster.

Did you really expect to come out unscaved?

Mahidevran Gif by @awkward-sultana

[jellyluchi]

🥺 & 💝? ;w;

Hi Spanky !!! thank you for the ask!

F/O Ask Game (Erik only)

🥺 - Were you ever shy with your feelings about your s/I? Are you still shy now?

Erik was shy with his original love interest (Christine) but in the way that obviously he'd be apprehensive because of his looks and scaring her off. He's more reclusive and hates people then shy or just does not know what to do in a situation where he's in love or obsessed and as the book shows he's really not good at approaching his object of affection LOL He's not shy about declaring his love or showing that he "cares" (as morbid and possessive as his methods are).

So with Rose I imagine he is more confused than shy. He did not expect his obsession/love to shift towards her in any degree (especially because of a thing with her name, her last name sounds like his previous employer the Sultana of Persia who he does not want finding him or he's gonna be executed LOL). So he's less shy and more awkward because his flirting game is like "Erik did NOT kill you for your suspicious name! " as if she's supposed to be impressed and declare her love for him immediately bc his frienemy vouched for her 😭😭😭

💝 - Are you a gift giver? What type of gifts do you give to your s/I?

"Erik is the king of gift givers! Erik will extort, steal, murder, and die for his gifts to his wife.... My Rose dear has a particular fondness for the abhorrent smelling paints and turpentines so I must find only the best. And roses! Of course there must be roses filling every nook and cranny of her room! And volumes of the little Indian fairy tales she loves to read before bed. Erik will acquire them all."

(they are definitely not married when he says this)

He makes himself out to be oh so generous and giving like he didn't kill a couple people just to get these like ok sir....