#Awkward-sultana speaks

[awkward-sultana]

A round of applause for Mr. Finch, who's so hot for his wife he can't even get his pants around his ankles.

[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

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[xiv-wolfram]

Around the Fire - Comic Script

Heavensward - lvl 52

Wolfram and Alphinaud have an awkward conversation.

Catch up on my WoLComics (Chronological List)

This is the script for a future comic. Posting for those who don’t want to wait to get the story. Numbers indicate frame number. A or B followed by ) is for a split frame.

Shot of Dravania. Alphi and Wolf sitting round that campfire with hunter tents. Narrator - Wolfram (the Warrior of Light) has been traveling with Alphinaud, Estinien, and Ysayle. Alphinaud's self pity is really starting to annoy him. 

A) Alphi sad. - "--but if I had been more vigilant with the Braves finances then -" B) Wolf annoyed, face in hand - "Oh just stop it already!"

A) Alphi hurt - "I beg your pardon?" B) Wolf smiles apologeticly - "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just - how long are you going to blame yourself?"

A) Alphi thinks - "Well, I had not thought to put a timeline on it. How would I know when my guilt will wear off?" B) Wolf serious - "In my experience - it doesn't ever go away, but you need not obsess over it so. Especially for something so small."

Alphi shocked - "Small?! The bloody banquet was no small matter! The Sultana poisoned. General Raubahn maimed. The Scions scattered. The Crystal Braves were *my* doing.”

Wolf smiles gently - "Aye, all of those events were horrible, but you barely played a part. You learned humility from this and that's good, but that was the only lesson you need to take from it. A man like Ilberd he... He'd have found another way. A man like that will stop at nothing to attain power. To get his revenge." Dark Thought - 'You should know. You weren't so different once.'

A) Alphi confused - "How can you speak as if those events didn't affect you when you've been -" B) Alphi quickly covers his mouth with hand.

A) Wolf confused - "When I what? Spit it out kid." B) Alphi nervous - "I have... Heard you talk in your sleep. My apologies. It was not my intention to eavesdrop."

Wolf surprised - "Oh? And what do I say?" Thought - 'Gods I hope it's not the voidsent. It's been so quiet lately.'

Alphi nervous - "You... well usually it is something akin to 'Don't touch him. You'll not have him too! I'll die before that happens!' Then, just last night I thought I heard you say 'Rau'. So I assumed you were having a nightmare about the banquet. I can not help but feel responsible for your troubled sleep. If only I had -"

Wolf scoffs, looking down into the fire. Thought - 'Ah, that one.' Say - "No Alphinaud. That wasn't about the banquet. Pray feel no guilt for my bad dreams. They've plagued me for many years now. In fact I'm quite fortunate to be sleeping through them. In the past that one had me waking to the sound of my own screams." Alphi stunned. Thought - 'I had no idea our hero suffered so…'

Wolf serious, stares Alphi in the eyes. - "I had hoped it wouldn't be an issue on this journey, but I need you to promise me something just in case. If you awaken to find me out of my bedroll doing anything odd like walking around or bathing my arms in a stream, please wake me up."

Wolf worried - "However, if I seem to be in a state of distress and tell you to run - please do not argue. Take the others and flee."

A) Alphi shocked - "May I ask why you –" B) Wolf pleading - "Please don't. A man my age needs a few secrets."

Wolf grins coyly - "Besides, without a mysterious past I'd be terribly dull." 

A) Alphie smiles - "Alright then, Wolfram. Keep your secrets. I will do as you ask. I suspect I need not take action if you are experiencing the other dreams?" B) Wolf confused - "Other? There are others?"

Alphi thinks - "Well, I believe them to be pure nonsense. You seem to be talking to a calf? I can't quite make out the words. Sometimes you make odd sounds as well."

Wolf's face turns completely red, shocked. - "You know... I may just move my bedroll further away from the fire. Aye, maybe the cool air is what I need."

Catch up on my WoLComics (Chronological List)

[minetteskvareninova]

Minette watches Medici, part 10 (Standing Alone)

- I know it’s unbelievable, but I skipped the intro. Yeah. The whole “Renassaince, but not quite” thing pisses me off so much I skipped the fucking intro to Medici.

- I only noticed it now, but Lucrezia de’ Medici dresses so much worse than all the other women in the show, it’s kind of amazing how shitty her dresses are. They won’t get better, apparently, at least if awkward-sultana’s gifs are anything to go by.

- Her subplot continues to be boring, and I call bullshit on her slapping Lorenzo for arranging her marriage to that uncharismatic rando (although honestly the guy she’s in love with has just as much charisma, if not somehow less). She’s a wealthy unmarried woman from 15th century Italy, still under custody of her father and older brother. She certainly wouldn’t get her hopes up about marrying whomever she wants, much less a guy whose family is feuding with hers, and even if she would get mad at Lorenzo for arranging a marriage for her, she wouldn’t slap him!

- Now, Clarice having the option to join the convent despite the wishes of her family I can see - it’s much more likely that a girl from noble family would be just forced to marry regardless of what she wants, but if the match isn’t absolutely crucial, it’s not out of the question her family would allow it. I suspect that cardinal Orsini can’t be that invested in the alliance with the Medici if he isn’t trying to persuade her himself and leaves it to Lucrezia Tornabuoni and Carlo de’ Medici.

- Damn, this season has too many Lucrezias. Anyway, I’m gonna call them Lucrezia T (mama Medici), Lucrezia M (her daughter) and Lucrezia D (Lorenzo’s girlfriend, we’ll get to her) from now on.

- Anyway, speaking of Carlo! Rejoice, people, Maddalena’s kid is back! And he is still in touch with his family, how nice! His friendship with Clarice is pretty wholesome, I hope we see more of them, even if he did manipulate her into marrying his nephew who doesn’t mean a good match to her and already has a girlfriend. Also, Lorenzo’s flirting skills are hilariously bad, like, in general, the guy seems to lose about fifty IQ points when he’s talking to a hot chick. “I like everything” had me in stitches.

- Is it wrong that I am super invested in this love triangle? I mean, I like Lorenzo, and both of his options are actually pretty compelling. Lucrezia D is charismatic as hell, and Clarice pretty damn likeable - honestly too likeable to have her heart broken by Lorenzo cheating, but that’s renassaince men for ya. Also, Lucrezia D’s worries that he’ll fall in love with his wife, or possibly her not wanting to sleep with a married man... Either way, she’s so real for that. At the same time, I can’t wait for the Clarice x Lorenzo, arranged marriage to lovers, 30k, slow burn etc. My only worry is that Lorenzo will act like a complete fuckboy throughout this arch, like Cosimo was pretty douchey in this regard too.

- I call absolute bullshit on Carlo’s Medici exceptionalism, let alone Clarice believing it. I did let Lorenzo being the smartest, prettiest, nicest, specialest little boy of this show slide for way too long, it really took me Carlo’s speech to see the absolute Gary Stu vibes this guy is giving off. Still, I like Lorenzo enough to let it slide, but you’re on thin fucking ice, show.

- That said, his conflict with old Piero was just as compelling this episode as I expected. At the same time, the fact that his death hit at the end of this episode’s triumphant finish (in the immortal words of Geoff from Mother’s Basement) like a loss.jpeg in the middle of a webcomic binge, made me Not Amused again.

- I would say I don’t care about Sandro, Giuliano and whatever bullshit the show has in store for them and Simonetta Vespucci, but honestly, I am way too bi for that. The guys are simping for her from the moment they see her, and for once I get it. My sole investment in this nonsense comes from wanting to see Mathilda Lutz and her angelic face (also possibly tits).

- The tourney was sooo much lamer than I expected. Pazzi’s murder plan wasn’t the worst, but the fact that the Medici learned of it AND Lorenzo then won the tourney... Yeah, this whole thing left me cold. Error 404 narrative tension not found. And just when did Francesco get morals??? The only good part was Giuliano’s 1-800-Bitch-You-Thought moment with the boring Pazzi brother. Because I am messy bitch that lives for drama like that.

- The best part of this episode was Lucrezia T being awesome. Mama Medici is my favourite character, I love this bitch so much you can’t even imagine. In fact, all female characters in this show so far rule, except for Lucrezia M.

- I haven’t read the books, but if the impression I get from the Darkling appologist fam is correct, Matteo Martari, a.k.a. Francesco de’ Pazzi has serious book!Darkling energy.

[torialeysha]

Cold feet - Part 16

Bakers redemption

A/N: I’m on a roll guys! Your love, patience and support for this story fuels my fire for writing, a fire I thought I had lost and for that I am eternally grateful. Thank you all <3

Songs: Carry me home - Jorja Smith ft Maverick Sabre

Can’t buy happiness - Tash Sultana

Fortunately the awkwardness of the journey home was lost on you as all you could do was think about Alfie. You questioned the sincerity of his visit and wondered why it had taken him so long to realise you had lied about the ridiculous possibility of him not being the father of your unborn baby? He had asked you for forgiveness. A shot at redemption. Could you give it to him? Could you allow him another chance when he had already let you down not once but twice? Were you foolish enough to give him the opportunity to do it again? Would he do it again? He said that he had seen the error of his ways and that he really did want the baby. Did he mean it? Could you believe him even if he did? He said he could prove it to you and you were curious to see how. Silently you pondered, driving yourself insane with question after question that regrettably you didn’t have the answers to.

After a tedious battle with the London traffic the car finally pulled up outside the opulent townhouse Charles was renting. The atmosphere still frosty and tense as you crossed it’s threshold. You were in the process of removing your coat when one of the butlers collared Charles.

“There’s a Mr Changretta waiting for you in the lounge, sir.” He announced casually as he took your coat. Your hair immediately stood on end.

“Ok. I’ll be right there. Meanwhile, could you please fetch Ms Y/L/N something to eat.” Charles hands his coat to the butler then turns to you. “I won’t be long. Feel free to start without me.” He told you coldly. But you were no longer worried about food and more concerned about the fact that Luca Changretta was in the next room.

Fraught, you staggered to the dining room and began to pace, anxiously wondering what the occupants next door were discussing. You manoeuvred towards the wall that separated the lounge from the dining room and placed your ear against it, hoping that the divide was thin enough to be able to hear their conversation. Their muffled voices vibrated through the wall. You edged closer to the crack of the locked double doors that connected the two rooms and the voices got slightly clearer.

“...And you really trust this broad? You’re sure she isn’t the problem?” It was Luca’s voice.

“Of course I trust her! I wouldn’t have involved her if I didn’t.”

“How much does she know?”

“Hardly anything. She asked me some questions about the club. Why I bought it for her and why I insisted I put it in her name and not mine, but her curiosity is only natural, Luca.”

Your stomach rolled realising they were talking about you.

“What did you tell her?”

“I fed her some bullshit about wanting to give her the world.”

“Nice. So she doesn’t know anything about the money coming in from New York?”

“No, I take care of the books and I keep them locked in my safe.”

“Good.”

There was a brief silence before Luca spoke again.

“Tell me, Cuz, what are your feelings for this broad? You still intend on marrying her when this is all over?”

Cuz? Why would Luca call Charles that?

“Yes. I love her.”

Charles’ confession made you feel sick.

There’s another long pause before Luca speaks again.

“Then you have my blessing. But I’m warning ya, I don’t know if my dear Aunt will be as accepting. You know how she only wants the best for her son.”

Cousin? Aunt? Son? You felt the colour drain from your face as realisation dawned on you.

“Y/N is best for me. Now can we please stop discussing my personal life and get back to business.”

“Of course. I hear what you’re saying about the Jew but we need him alive for now. I think he’ll be able to help us deal with Thomas Shelby.”

“Solomon’s is tight with Shelby. There’s no way he’d sell him out.”

“Oh, he will.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m going to make him an offer he can’t refuse... Don’t look so worried, Chuck, all will be revealed soon. You just carry on doing what you’re doing and remember that we’re doing this per la famiglia. Luca’s foreign tongue made you shudder. “Once Solomon’s, Shelby and Sabini are dealt with. London will be ours for the taking.”

You pulled away from the door just as Charles was asking about Sabini. You had heard enough.

It was worse than you or Tommy had anticipated. Charles and Luca wasn’t just business relations, they were blood relations. His money was their money. Your time and efforts had been in vain. Any hope of sabotaging their connection was gone. Replaced with an overwhelming sense of alarming trepidation. You had to leave. There was no way you could stay now knowing what you know.

The main door of the dining room swung open, startling you.

“I’m terribly sorry miss. I didn’t mean to scare you.” The flustered housemaid apologised as she shuffled in with your supper.

“Please don’t apologise.” You told her shakily.

“You’re white as a sheet! I must’ve given you a proper fright. Poor thing. Sit ya self down and I’ll fetch you something to drink.”

“No, no. I’m fine. It’s just-I’ve received word today that my friend isn’t well and it’s come as quite a shock. I would like to check on her to see if she’s feeling better. Could you let Mr Fenton know that I’m going to visit her and I won’t be back until later.”

“Of course, Miss, but what about your tea?” She signals to the silver tray she’s carrying.

“I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. I’ll eat it when I return.”

“Ok, Miss. I’ll put it by for later.” She took off with the tray of food and without a second thought you made for the door without even stopping for your coat or purse.

In a daze you wandered down the street, feeling hopelessly lost in a city that had been your home for 20 odd years. You headed north, knowing that regardless of your current uncertainty towards Alfie you would have to warn him and get word to Tommy. Without your purse you had no money to jump on a bus or the underground. Your only option was to trudge the busy late afternoon streets to your destination. It would take roughly an hour to get from Central to Camden, probably the same amount of time it would take Charles to suspect something was amiss. It was a distressing thought that caused you to pick up pace. To make up time you decided to take a shortcut that lead you along the river and down the canals. It was a risky move as the muddy banks of the canals were refuge to some unsavoury characters - mainly drunkards - desperate men that would find easy prey on a young woman trekking the waterways on her own.

The sun was slowly sinking into twilight by the time you had reached Camden lock. Despite your exhaustion you were relieved to have made it in one piece but you shouldn’t have spoke too soon. In the distance you could see a group of what looked like 3 men huddled together along the path which you needed to pass to get across to the bakery. Your blistered feet slowed but it was too late, they had already spotted you. You quickly tried to think of an alternative route. The only other way was to swim across but jumping in and braving the grim green water that was frothing with rubbish and other questionable substances wasn’t tempting to say the least. There was nothing you could do now except carry on walking with your chin held high as if their shady presence didn’t intimidate you. You argued with yourself as you approached that maybe you had jumped to a brash assumption and that they were in fact a harmless trio who would just let you pass without a second glance. As you got closer they rose from their makeshift perches and swayed towards you. It was then you knew that your brash assumption had been correct.

“Evening treacle.” One slurred. “What brings you down ‘ere then?” He smiled, revealing a row of yellow teeth that were gradually rotting a browny black. You ignored him and tried to pass but he obstructed you.

“Let me pass!” You ordered him.

“Now then, that’s not nice. You could at least ask nicely. Say please.” He slurred.

“Please let me pass.” You said through gritted teeth.

The other two came to stand beside him. Panicking, you tried hard to conceal the trembling of your body.

“Beg.” He tells you through a snarl.

“I love it when they beg.” One of the other men chimed in, earning a chortle from his soapy comrades.

You laugh as if joining in with their sadistic merriment. Then quick as a whippet you tried to barge through their burly blockade, effectively knocking one of the men into the drink. The middle one grabbed you. You turned as he did so, kneeing him between the legs. He dropped to the floor and you made to escape but was grabbed again by the last remaining man. His filthy hand covered your mouth, cutting you off mid scream. You thrashed in his arms. Your eyes widening as the man on the floor rose slowly.

“We’ve got a feisty one ‘ere, Del.”

“Let’s see how feisty she is once I’ve finished with ‘er.” The man you knocked to the floor was now fully upright, stalking towards you.

You closed your eyes, helplessly awaiting your fate.

“Get your filthy fucking hands off ‘er!”

Your eyes shot open at the unmistakable voice coming from behind you.

The man turned suddenly with you still in his arms. Your eyes landed on Alfie and Ollie and you wanted to cry out in relief.

“Mr Solomon’s - I was only helping the poor Lass. She was lost, ya see.” He muttered a sheepish reply. His arms loosening around you. You pushed away from him stricken and lurched into Alfie’s arms.

“Are you ok, Yahalom?” He asked, pushing away the hair from your face and checking you over for any sign of injury.

You noded, clinging to him.

“Run!” One of the men shouted and they both fled in opposite directions. The one who had hold of you tried to leg-it past Alfie who with a flick of his cane tripped him before he could get any further. Alfie pushed you to Ollie, and pounced on top of the fallen man. Savagely he landed a shocking set of bone crunching blows upon the sputtering and sobbing man on the floor.

You started to shake uncontrollably. Your chest heaving to draw in breaths.

“Alfie, stop now. You’re scaring ‘er!” Ollie yelled at Alfie who stopped immediately.

“Get ‘er out of ‘ere!” He shouted.

You felt Ollie tug on your arm.

“No-I c-can’t go-I need t-to talk to A-alfie.” You chattered numbly.

“It’s ok, Y/N. Let’s wait for him inside and you can talk to him then, yeah?” Ollie asked you soothingly. You stopped resisting, allowing him to guide you over the bridge of the canal and inside the huge double door entrance of the bakery. He set you down on a crate.

“Are you ok?” Ollie asked. Kneeling in front of you.

You shook your head from side to side, unable to speak through the loud chattering of your teeth.

“We were just leaving. You’re lucky we spotted you, ya know.”

You didn’t answer him. Instead you reached out and gave his hand a grateful squeeze.

Alfie exploded through the doors, making you and Ollie jump. His blood splattered face was a fit of pure rage.

“How many fucking times have I told you not to walk the canals on your own? If me and him would have left ‘ere half hour ago like we were supposed to, what would have happened then, ay?” His eyes flickered as he tortured himself pointlessly with the sickening possibilities.

“Alright, Alfie. Calm down, ay? We left at the right time and luckily Y/N weren’t hurt-“ Ollie started calmly before Alfie interrupted him.

“- You sure they didn’t hurt you?” Alfie asked.

“I’m sure.”

“The fuck was you thinking, Pet?” His stern voice was slightly softer now.

“I-I wasn’t-“

“-Where’s your coat?” He asked suddenly. “Them cunts take it?”

“No, I left it behind-there was n-no time- I had t-to get out of there fast-I left my coat behind along with my p-purse-I’ve had to walk from Central-thats why I t-took the sh-shortcut.” You stuttered senselessly, barely pausing to take a breath. Alfie took off his coat and draped it over your shoulders. You pulled it tightly around yourself. His musky scent clung to the heavy wool material that was still warm with the heat of his body. You inhaled deeply, feeling instantly calmer. “I couldn’t stay there, Alfie. I had to leave, I had to get out of there!”

“Calm down, Yahalom, and tell me exactly what’s happened?” He ordered, his eyes wild.

“It’s Charles. He and Lu-ca Changretta are related. They’re cousins. I-I overheard them talking. They said something about money coming in from New York and taking over London. They’re going to take down everyone in their way - you, Tommy, even Sabini. Everything Tommy said is true and there’s nothing I can do about it. We have to warn Thomas.”

Alfie exchanged a look with Ollie.

“Did he know you were listening in on his conversation?” Ollie asked.

“No. But he’ll know I’m missing by now and maybe he’ll put two and two together. I told the housemaid to tell him I was visiting an ill friend but I’m not sure he’ll believe that.”

“Right then. Well, first things first.” Alfie put his arms around your shoulders and lifted you gently from where you rested. “I need to get you out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m going to stay here and help sort this.” You told him wilfully.

“You’ve done all you can, pet. Let me and Tommy deal with this now.”

“So all of this was for nothing? Me staying with Charles, weeks of misery and sneaking around. That was all for nothing?”

“This isn’t your fight, Y/N. It never was your fight.” Alfie sighed.

“They’re planning on killing you, Alfie - the father of my unborn baby. Tell me how that isn’t my fight?” You sobbed angrily.

He grabbed your shoulders, shaking you lightly.

“Look at me.” He said firmly. Your wide eyes rose to his. “I can handle it, right. What I can’t handle is the worry of anything happening to you. Which is why I’m getting you out of ‘ere, even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. I’m taking you and that unborn baby of mine to safety. You ‘ear me? That’s our priority now, yeah?”

“...Yeah.” You whispered, knowing he was right.

“Come on.”

You held on to him as you walked, your weary feet stinging with every faltered step you took.

“You need me to carry you?” He asked.

You shook your head weakly.

The sun had now almost set but the brightness outside was still blinding as you emerged from the darkness of the distillery.

“Get in the car.” Alfie ordered.

You did as he said, sliding into the front passenger seat and trying to avoid looking across the canal where your attacker still lay, a lifeless crumpled, mess on the floor. You blocked it out and focused on Alfie through the windscreen instead. He was leant into Ollie, telling him something. Ollie gave him a contrite nod and handed him what looked like a set of keys. With a pat on the back, Alfie left him to climb in to the drivers seat. He started the engine.

“Isn’t Ollie coming with us?”

“Na. He’s got to sort a few things out for me.” He replied, shoving the shift stick into gear and pulling off. You watched him intently. An unsolicited heat crept over you as he manoeuvred the machine with a confident ease that you couldn’t help but find alluring.

“Where are we going?” You asked croakily.

“Let me worry about that, right. You look exhausted. Rest your head and I’ll wake you when we get there.”

Too weak to argue you did just that. Leaning your head against the window which was slick with condensation. The soft purr of the cars engine lulled you rapidly into a deep and dreamless sleep.

You were roused from your confined slumber by Alfie as he lifted you from the passenger seat into his arms. Your neck throbbed where you had laid awkwardly propped up against the window for God knows how long. You let the aching heaviness of your head rest against Alfies chest as he carried you. A whooshing noise echoed familiarly in the blustery background, intertwined with what sounded like crunching gravel beneath Alfie’s feet as he walked. Curiously your sluggish eyes peered at your surroundings. You could just about make out the silhouette of a building and an unusual looking tree against the dark blue of the night sky.

Exhausted, your head fell back onto Alfie’s chest and you buried your face in the crook of his neck to shield it from the tenacious chill of the night air. He came to a stop holding you tightly with one arm as the other searched his trouser pocket. A jingling of keys and the sound of the lock turning, then you were finally inside and out of the cold.

The smell of fresh paint and varnish filled your nostrils as he carried you over the foreign residence. After kicking the door closed with his foot, you felt him ascend a set of stairs in the darkness, effortlessly, as if he was already well acquainted with the steps. A door creaked open and then shortly after you were being lowered. You unfolded from him as he placed you on the soft cushioning of a mattress. Your head sunk into the fluffy pillows, your arms stretching across the width of the spacious bed. Your eyes opened when you realised Alfie wasn’t joining you.

“Don’t leave me.” You begged.

“Sssh.” He soothed softly. His heavy hand brushing back your hair from your face. “You’re safe now, Yahalom.”

Your eyes closed, his reassuring tone and tender touch settling you back to sleep.

You awoke with a start. Looking around the huge room that was now highlighted by an orange hue emanating from the fire that crackled and danced in the fireplace adjacent to the bed. The ceaseless whooshing you heard earlier broke in from a set of french doors to your left and you raised from the bed to investigate. Pulling back the floor length curtains that decorated them, you were shocked to see the mosaicked balcony and the beach landscape that it overlooked. At a glance it appeared that Alfie had stolen you away from the perilous situation in London and brought you to Margate - your safe haven. But what was this place? It wasn’t a B&B or a hotel because you remembered that Alfie had entered with a key - you assumed the same key Ollie had handed him before you left. You glanced around the room once more, the unfamiliarity of your surroundings causing you great unease. And it was quiet, too quiet. Where was Alfie?

You poked your nose out of the bedroom door and peeked down the length of the darkened hallway. A sliver of warm light shone from a partially open door of one of the rooms and cautiously you ambled towards it. You lingered outside, your nerves settling when you heard Alfie’s hushed tone beyond the wood.

“Did you get hold of the rabbi?”

There was a long pause before Alfie spoke again.

“I don’t care what fucking time it is just keep trying. I want him up ‘ere by the end of the week, before the fight... Yeah? Well make-fucking-sure.” You heard a crashing bang which you guessed was the receiver of the telephone being put down on whoever Alfie was talking to.

“Are you gonna stand out there all fucking night or you gonna come in?” He shouted out to you, causing you to smile.

You entered slowly, stalling in the doorway.

Alfie was sat at a desk, a much neater, more fancier desk than the one he usually occupied at the bakery.

“You alright?” He asked, watching you intently as you came to sit in front of him.

You nodded absentmindedly, too busy taking in the plush interior of the room.

“Did you speak to Tommy?” You asked eagerly, your eyes finally meeting his. He waited a moment before answering you.

“Na, I ain’t been able to get hold of him. I’ll try again in the morning...You sure you’re alright?”

“Where are we?” You queried, ignoring his question.

“Margate.”

“No, I mean here.” You pointed to where you were sat. “Whose house is this?”

“This is our house.” He said casually.

You look at him stunned. Your mouth agape.

“Our house?”

He nodded simply.

“W-when? How?” You stuttered, dumbfounded.

“I bought it a while back, after I saw you again at the Eden. It was in a bit of a two an’ eight when I bought it. Taken me an’ the boys a little while to do up.”

“I’m confused.” You shook your head. “You’ve bought a house in Margate? But we’re so far away from London, from your businesses. What about the bakery?”

“I’m retiring, Yahalom. I’ve sold up all the properties I own and I’ve handed the bakery down to Ollie. This was my plan all along. The only way I knew I could keep you safe.”

It took you a moment to process everything and still you were stunned speechless.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“I thought this was what you wanted?” He cites.

“It was-“

Alfie narrowed his eyes at your use of past tense.

“-I mean is.” You corrected swiftly before carrying on “It’s just come as a bit of a shock is all.”

“Hmm.” He let out a suspicious grunt. “It’s not the best timing after the day you’ve had, I get that. But that was out of my control wern’it?”

You nodded solemnly. Still trying to wrap your head around everything.

“I thought you’d be happy, Yahalom?”

“I am.” You frowned.

“At least show it then. Crack a smile or summin. You’ve got a face like a slapped arse at the minute.” You heard a frustrated annoyance creep into the grimmess of his voice.

“I don’t know how I feel about it, if I’m being honest. The last few months have been a whirlwind for me. I haven’t slept properly in days, weeks even. Weary to the bone. Wracked with guilt and worry. I honestly don’t know wether I’m coming or going. And now you’re telling me that you’re selling up. Leaving behind everything you’ve worked so hard to build and for what?”

“For us!” He barked. “For us to be together without the worry of someone hurting you to hurt me. And yeah, I’ve worked hard, I’ve earn’t my money, however, it’s time for me to rest now and enjoy the fruits of my labour.”

“I’m not sure, Alf...” You hummed uneasily.

“What’s there to be unsure of?”

“I still ain’t sure this is what you really want!” You snapped frustratedly. “A quiet life by the sea, a child you never wanted...I just can’t see it.” You admitted sadly.

He exhaled harshly, rising from his desk and stepping round to extend a hand to you.

“Come with me. I wanna show you something.”

Reluctantly you took his offered hand and let him guide you back out into the hallway and along to a room that was situated next to the one you had been resting in earlier.

He opened the door and moved aside for you to enter.

The waxing moon shon brightly through the bare windows, lighting up the room with it’s spectacular lunar glow. You stepped through noticing immediately the cot that lay new and empty against the far wall, next to it was a matching chest of drawers and a rocking horse that looked like it had been plucked from a fairground carousel.

Your eyes shot to Alfie whose bear like frame was leant in the doorway studying your reaction.

“When did you do this?”

“A couple of days ago. The room needs a lick of paint but I thought you might wanna choose the colour.” He came to join you in the centre of the room.

“So you did all this before you come to see me? Before you were even certain that the baby yours?...Why?”

He was silent for a moment, deep in thought.

He shrugged. “I s’pose deep down I knew you were lying and that the baby was mine... or maybe I didn’t fucking care, I dunno... doing this...it just felt right.”

“But you said-“

“-I know what I said but saying don’t mean fuck all does it. Actions speak louder than words.” He motions to the room. “And this speaks fucking volumes, dunnit. I mean if this doesn’t prove to you that this is what I really want then I don’t know what will.”

Reassurance drifted over you as you looked once again around the unfinished nursery.

“Say something.” He requested quietly.

Wordlessly you rushed to him and threw your arms around his broad shoulders.

“You like it then? You’re happy?” He confirmed uncertainly.

“I do. I am. It’s...wonderful! Thank you!” You choked a reply, your voice struggling past the forming lump in your throat.

He pulled you closer, his shoulders relaxing as if a weight had been lifted off them.

“You want me to show you round the rest of the house?” He whispered gruffly into your hair.

“Not tonight. Show me tomorrow in the daylight so I can properly take in the beauty of it all.”

“Alright. Well, what shall we do now then?” You were sure you heard a seductive undertone in his question and took full advantage.

“Take me to our bed.”

“You ain’t gotta ask me twice.” He said. His eyes lighting up at your words.

You squealed when he lifted you in his arms and carried you to the next room.

“Cor blimey. You’ve got heavier already.” He huffs.

“Oh give over, I ain’t even showing properly yet. You’re just getting weaker with age, old man.” You teased him.

“Oi! I’ll have you know that there’s nothing wrong with my stamina and I will gladly prove that to you in a minute.” He threatened hotly. Sending your pulse racing. “There’s just one more thing I’ve got to do first.”

He set you down carefully on your own two feet.

“Can’t it wait?” You whined as he stepped away from you and headed towards the door.

“It won’t take me a minute.” He assured you.

You stood in the middle of the once unfamiliar room that you now knew was yours and Alfies. Sighing happily, you glided to the french doors and tried the handle. They opened willingly under your touch. The chill of the night air was refreshing as you stepped out on to the balcony. Leaning on the stone balaustrade, you observed the unrelenting waves that stretched the distance, relishing in the peacefulness of their crashing melody. Nothing could ruin this moment, not even the ugliness of the Changretta situation. All that mattered right now was your future with Alfie, a future that this morning never even existed.

“Yahalom?” Alfie called, having returned.

You spun to look at him. He marched skittishly towards you, his hands behind his back, as he joined you on the balcony.

“I know I’ve asked you this before but as you so poignantly pointed out to me the other day, it’s a proposal that has since expired. So, I’m gonna ask you again... Y/N Y/L/N will you marry me?” He asked gruffly, his eyes so intense you thought they could set you on fire. You gasped unexpectedly. Although it was the second time he had asked you, it was the first time you had heard him say those words aloud.

“Oh, Alfie. Of course I’ll marry you.”

“Thank fuck for that. Here then.” He produced a ring that was hidden in his clenched fist behind his back. Grabbing your hand he slipped it on your finger. You stared down at it in awe. A ruby once again burned brightly on your finger but it wasn’t the one you were used to. You frowned down at the foreignness of the rings delicate beauty and the circle of winking diamonds that surrounded the red gem like a halo.

“I searched high and low for the other one in the bakery but couldn’t find it. So I bought you another one. D’you like it?”

“It’s beautiful... I was just expecting to see the old one.” You replied, your heart sinking at the thought of your first engagement ring being lost forever. It was only supposed to be a temporary ring, taken from Alfie’s pinky finger until he had gotten you a proper one. There wasn’t much to it just a thick gold band with a faceted ruby so red it was hypnotising. Back then you had persuaded Alfie not to buy a replacement, that you wanted to keep his one as every time you looked at it it reminded you of him. Now, thanks to yourself you’ll never see it again.

“That’s old hat now that one though, innit? a token of who we used to be. We’ve been through a lot of shit, right, shit I wanna leave in the past. I want us to have a fresh start, a clean slate, and this house and this ring is where it begins.”

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[inquisitorhotpants]

WIP .. uh Thursday lmao

I was tagged by @semper-draca and this is a good excuse to share this xD

--

You don’t get to his level of social standing, Raubahn tells himself as he rematerializes outside the Quicksand, without getting used to the stares. 

It’s true, of course; rising from gladiator to member of the Syndicate and commander of the Immortal Flames and right hand of the Sultana does bring with it an unavoidable level of notoriety, and notoriety brings with it stares of various types. None of those, however, are the types of stares one gets when one materializes out of an aetheryte with a beautifully dressed, unconscious woman draped in one’s arms. 

And if people on the street are comfortable gawking at him, he can’t imagine what Momodi is going to say. 

*

“Why, General!” Momodi chirps as he stops at her desk, her smile positively gleeful. “I didn’t have makes the Sultana’s guest fall for him on my card for this evening, but you have ever been a surprising man. And so literal, too!” 

Raubahn leans a bit over - 

(Dancing, a voice in his head supplies.) 

- the guest of honor, doing his utmost to not notice whatever scent that is she’s wearing -

(something warm and inviting and if you don’t stop noticing right now this entire interaction with Momodi is going to get very awkward for you, and how is his internal voice so chipper about all of this?)

- in order to give Momodi a haughty look. “If you think all your jests can get the sultana’s guest of honor back to her room without my assistance, Momodi, I can hand her to you.” 

“Raubahn Aldynn, you will not leave that poor woman to be dragged along the floor like a sack of washing!” Momodi scolds, though she still has a twinkle in her eye. “I’ll escort you to her room.” She leads him to nearly the top floor, opening the door with a key from a ring she produces from one of her pockets. As the door swings open, she opens her mouth, then closes it again when he raises one eyebrow, choosing instead to give him a wink. “Do stop by my desk before you leave!”

Dancing’s room, he notes as he carries her toward the bed, is still mostly devoid of personal belongings, though he sees her usual clothing folded neatly and stacked on top of the dresser. Below her window, however, Ul’dah stretches out like a spilled bag of sparkling gems, a thousand lights in a thousand windows gleaming in the night. He shifts one arm, braces her while he pulls the coverlet down, and eases her into the bed, taking off slippers that seem impossibly dainty for the sort of woman that punches ruffians for a living and setting them at the end of the bed. 

He pulls the coverlet up over her - desert nights at this time of year have quite a chill to them - then pauses. 

It seems like he hears tales of her deeds nearly every other day. She stops land-grabbing bandits. She brings medicine and food to refugees. She saved Nanamo without even knowing who Nanamo was. He’d already admired her before tonight, even before she’d kindled hope within him that he’d thought all but lost. 

And then she’d collapsed into his arms - the desert heat, some said, and the strain of her exertions, it’s understandable - and even as he assured Nanamo he’d see their guest of honor brought back to her lodging at once, as he’d left the banquet as sure-footed as he’d ever been on any battlefield, he’d found himself instead admiring the flame of her hair, the curve of her jawline. How the weight of her in his arms feels like the most natural thing. 

At least there hadn’t been anybody around to hear his whispered oh no as he stretched his hand out toward the aetheryte. 

This is not a distraction he needs. It’s simply a matter of putting this all out of his head, which he will do on his walk home, so that he can continue to interact with Dancing on a purely professional level.

He turns briefly toward the door, then reconsiders. Standing there trying to keep a straight face while Momodi runs through her comedy routine is not how he saw this evening going -

(he determinedly ignores the now-smug voice in his head asking and how did you see the evening going? After all, you did get her into bed … in a manner of speaking)

- and it might actually be easier to just scale the side of the building.

He takes one step toward the balcony; there’s a rustling beside him, and then warmth against his skin as Dancing’s hand finds his. He turns back to her just as honey-golden eyes drift partway open. 

“Raubahn?”

(I have committed the way she sleepily murmurs your name to memory. I shall supply it on the slightest of provocations.)

Maybe he’ll have to take the long route home. 

“You fainted at the banquet,” he says gently. “The sultana wanted to be sure you got back safely. I had hoped I wouldn’t disturb you.” 

If there is anyone merciful in the Twelve, that will be the end of it. 

Dancing hums a sleepy sort of mmm and rolls toward him as her eyes close, hand still in his. 

Clearly the Twelve don’t feel like being merciful this evening.

As Dancing starts to snore softly, Raubahn eases his hand out of hers, waits to make sure she doesn’t awaken again, and steps out onto the balcony. 

“You seem to have forgotten how to get to my desk,” Momodi says from her perch on the balcony railing, not looking up from what she’s reading. 

Raubahn claps a hand to his hammering heart. “Momodi, Twelve preserve us,” he whispers. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting to see if you’d try to duck out of talking to me.” 

“Can you blame me?”

“Hmm ... no, I suppose not.” This time she does close her book and look up at him, grinning. “So what are you going to do about it?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Do? About what?”

“Don’t play dumb sword-swinger with me, Raubahn. You like her.”

[hannigramficrecs]

AU

Miške by rainbowdracula [words: 1,359]

In a world where Will and Hannibal grew up together, a single stormy night changes their relationship forever.

Little Arts of Vice by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite [words: 44,991]

Cruel Intentions AU. “Tedium draws me to observation,” he murmurs. “Contemplation.” “Manipulation,” Mischa adds calmly, tilts her head when Hannibal narrows his eyes at her. “You wouldn’t deny it, Hannibal, you’re proud of that one. And in truth you do it well.” “There is little to manipulate when watching a dog chase a bird.” It starts with a bet.

A Past of Plank and Nail by gleamingandwholeanddeadly (something_safe), printersdeadly, printersdevils (tuesdaysgone) [words: 87,821]

Hannibal needs a kitchen remodel, and his colleague and friend Alana knows just the guy to help him with his rundown new home. Enter Will Graham, carpenter and contractor extraordinaire, and devastating addition to Hannibal's daily life. When he starts running out of new projects to keep Will around, Hannibal fast realizes his infatuation is more than simple attraction - and that getting Will to agree to dinner is only the first hurdle.

Identically Different by Pragnificent and sparkyhero [words: 14,248]

AU where Hannibal is an FBI profiler troubled by his own potential for violence and Will is a psychiatrist and serial killer.

Tired by Fun by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 4,641]

He needed some liquid courage anyway if he was going to attempt to seduce his roommate this evening. And he was. He absolutely was. That was the plan, and Will Graham, first year student of criminal psychology was certainly going to follow through, and not back out like he had the last four times he’d talked himself up.

Mazasis by slashyrogue [words: 13,849]

Will Graham is an awkward, antisocial, twenty nine year old grocery store clerk who would prefer being alone. He meets Hannibal Lecter, an older man who seems flirt with him but Will is insecure and does not accept Hannibal's invitation to a dinner party. When they meet again later, Will confesses that he's a virgin and is out looking to rid himself of his virginity. Hannibal volunteers to help him with his problem.

Today's Special by Devereauxs_Disease [words: 1,293]

Bev uses the coffee shop board to try and get Will a date. This...may not have been a smart move.

Chesapeake Mafia by Anna_Jay [words: 21,704]

Hannibal is the leader of the mafia organization that continually evade capture from Agent Jack Crawford. However, when Jack catches wind of who the leader's mate is, he does whatever he can to take Hannibal down. Will, who is Hannibal's pregnant mate is not too keen on the idea of being used as bait.

To Build Thy Kingdom, and Tear Me Down by cloudsarefluffy [words: 10,718]

Hannibal tilts his head, and a deep scowl begins to furrow his features, “Will, where are you going?” There is a soft smile gracing Will’s lips as he speaks, and he opens the door just as gently, “I am taking my permanent leave now that my services to you are no longer required.”

The Sultan's Boy by thisisthefamilybusiness [words: 788]

Will remembers when they were children, how Hannibal had cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek and promised him that one day they would be wed, that he would make Will his Sultana, regardless of what convention stated. He knows now that Hannibal cannot wed him, because he is a concubine and Hannibal is the Sultan. Hannibal needs a wife with noble or royal blood to bear his children and manage the palace and domestic life for him when he is away, not a boy who had been trained nearly his entire life to be a perfect lover and nothing else.

Rescues by drinkbloodlikewine and whiskeyandspite [words: 99,552]

Mischa is living with PTSD, and Hannibal seeks out a service animal to help her. He meets Will, trainer of therapy dogs - cue puppies, adorable interactions and lots of dogs. And smut. Of course.

Company by whiskeyandspite [words: 5,644]

Hannibal was a man of simple tastes, and while such things as erotic pet play piqued his interest, he’d asked for the man to shave, to dress well, and to come as exactly who he was: a beautiful man for hire.

Perhaps by whiskeyandspite [words: 1,888]

Will Graham is a crime novelist and Hannibal Lecter is the cannibalistic serial killer who begins to hear Will’s voice narrate his life.

This Was The Side On Which He Fell From Heaven by Fallswithgrace [words: 51,337]

A story about if Will and Hannibal had met as young men almost twenty years before their initial encounter in Quantico and how that would vitally change them but still retain the transgressions and longing at the heart of their relationship.

Smoke and Mirrors by honorablementioned [words: 2,282]

AU in which Hannibal attends a villain convention and Will runs a kissing booth.

Confess Only Your Sins by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 2,910]

The first time, Hannibal had been woefully underprepared. He’d had over-sharers before, usually lonely men and women for whom confession was their only chance to talk and know someone was really listening. None of them matched the man.

Fire in the Skull by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 5,785]

A young man comes to Dr Lecter seeking answers about his headaches and loss of time. Hannibal decides to see what will happen if he doesn't help him.

Patpong by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite [words: 76,213]

Hannibal is a lone predator hunting in the deep bowels of a very corrupt city. Will just wants to be found.

Often, Always by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 4,870]

Will Graham has had a crush, a crazy crush, on Hannibal since high school, but he never made a move. Why would Hannibal be interested in someone like him? Hannibal Lecter has had a crush, a mad crush, on Will since high school, but never made a move. They're worlds apart, why would Will look his way?

If You Must Falter, Be Wise by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 4,482]

Kink, Will insisted to himself, even as Hannibal picked up a knife and snapped his fingers in front of the man’s face. Hannibal and his boyfriend were into really kinky sex, and Will was the pervert neighbor who was stalking them. or Will is on house arrest, bored out of his mind in the tiny radius his ankle bracelet allows him to explore in middle class suburbia. He starts chatting to the handsome guy next door, Hannibal, a doctor, just as boring and suburbian as the rest of them.

Mizpah by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 7,557]

Hannibal and Will met as young men in New Orleans, and fell madly in love. And then Will left. 23 years later, they met again.

Tricking Myself Nice by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 18,197]

Forcibly sent to therapy with Dr. Lecter, Will goes from wanting to mess with the doctor's head, to wanting to get inside of it.

Ship of Dreams by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 20,123]

The Titanic AU that everyone has been waiting for.

Strawberries and Champagne by stratumgermanitivum, whiskeyandspite [words: 17,469]

A Pretty Woman AU

A Hollow Ache by gleamingandwholeanddeadly (something_safe) [words: 41,097]

AU where Will is a civilian on vacation who meets Hannibal while he's on the run in Florence. Of course Hannibal is incapable of keeping a low profile, so he immediately offers to play tour guide. They fall in love.

1 (25/25)

[autumnslance]

((Originally begun as response to a prompt (that ended up another entirely), this got away from me and became it’s own thing. Since it’s a FFXIV Write 2020 freebie day, time to finally yeet this draft out after sitting on it too long. Also below the cut for those who prefer Tumblr.))

“We have time before these negotiations resume,” Merlwyb said. “I suggest we stretch our legs and clear our heads before meeting with the Emperor again, now we have a firmer strategy.” The others readily agreed.

Nanamo grabbed Alisaie’s attention about another matter, leaving Aeryn free to slip outside. She waved past the Alliance guards to go a short way down the path to a small, rocky clearing she had noticed earlier. Both forces’ camps sat on either side, but straight forward were the dark hills and valleys of Ghimlyt. Not the most calming or picturesque view she had ever beheld, but more open and empty than a tent full of politicians and soldiers.

The footfall of a man in heavy armor was unmistakable, and she looked back to see who had followed, blinking in surprise at an unaccompanied Emperor Varis, his guards left several yalms away. “I had hoped for a chance to speak privately,” he said.

Aeryn stood stiffly, watching him. “I wondered at your request for my presence. I’m not much for politics—my skills lie elsewhere.”

“I am well aware.” He tromped up alongside her, his own gaze looking over the landscape. “I wanted to take more of your measure, given our last meeting was cut short.”

Aeryn shrugged. She turned back to the scenery.

Varis frowned. “No accusation or rejoinders? Or have you learned the futility of such from your leaders?”

She disliked how he said that, but kept herself neutral. “There’s no point. We were both there.” Her Echo caught a whisper, as she remembered who else had been in Ok’Zundu that day. “But you weren’t there,” she added quietly. “When we faced Zurvan.”

It was his turn to stiffen and Aeryn almost found that impressive, given how rigid the man already was by nature. “I have heard the tale from my soldiers. But I would hear it from you, eikon slayer.”

“We fought back and forth across Azys Lla in the course of our research into the Warring Triad,” Aeryn began bluntly. “As we did, it became apparent that the failsafes the Allagans built into the facility had been purposely sabotaged from the beginning, to allow the imprisoned eikons their freedom. A plot of the goddess Sophia’s followers, hoping to rain her and Bahamut’s wrath both upon the old empire. That didn’t happen, and so they waited for four thousand years.”

“Until the Archbishop’s foolhardiness woke them, and drew our attentions to Azys Lla and its potential,” he said.

“Its nightmares,” she answered. “The creatures and machina remaining are twisted. Little good can come from what torments they inflicted on others.”

“Perhaps you are lacking imagination. A debate for another time,” Varis continued, almost hurriedly as she glowered up at him. “I wish to know about Zurvan, not the lesser creations of Allag.”

Aeryn grit her teeth and gazed out across the fields again. “The archons set wards to keep Garlean soldiers out of the facility. But the damage done by Sophia’s minions had been enough. Even only half-awake, the Demon’s power broke our wards.”

She looked to Varis again. “That’s when van Hydrus came to us. Our prior clashes had ended in stalemate and escape. That time, he asked for our aid. His soldiers were struggling to keep Zurvan’s minions from waking their master, despite the risk to their own minds—and when we arrived, many had been turned, fighting their own squad mates.”

 The floors slick with blood, the screaming sounds of those centaur-like beings, the guttural roar of the eikon itself as it half-woke, Regula’s weapon cleaved in twain…

“How did Regula die?” Varis asked when she was quiet for too long.

Aeryn took a moment to clear her throat. “There were...aether collectors, to feed Zurvan and grant him strength. We had to disable them. But only three of us could get close: myself, another Scion with the Echo, and a boy who also bears the Blessing—our expert on the Warring Triad.” She noted his ever-deepening frown but continued.

“The archons tended to the wounded, trying to get as many as possible away from the eikon. Krile and I fought our way through and broke our generators, but Unukalhai was hesitant. For all his knowledge and skill, he’s still a child. So the Legatus dove into the fray to protect the boy and destroy the generator. Which he did--But Zurvan had awoken enough to take a swing to defend his thralls. His sword broke Regula’s. And…” Aeryn stopped, realizing she was hugging herself as she remembered.

Before Varis could speak she continued, letting her arms drop to her sides. “His last words were that he believed the Echo to be the only true way to destroy eikons, and so judged Unukalhai’s life more valuable than his own. He...spoke of you, what you did for him, and how he gladly gave his all in service. And he bade us complete our mission, end Zurvan’s threat.” She met Varis’ cold, dark gaze. “So I did.”

They were silent for a long moment. “Thank you,” the emperor finally replied. “The reports said much the same.”

“You thought I would lie about what happened?”

“No. All reports name you an honest woman. As I said: I simply wished to hear it from you.”

“I...I am sorry. For...I wish things had turned out differently.”

“Perhaps next time you won’t take a child onto a battlefield.”

She frowned up at him. “Believe me; I didn’t want to. But we don’t have a choice. And you don’t know all the circumstances. Unukalhai’s no ordinary boy.”

“But he is a boy. Unused to battle, and so one of our best, my onl--” Varis paused, taking a breath to collect himself. “You wonder why we call you savages, when you justify such.”

Aeryn bristled. “You have no room to talk. The empire’s no stranger to child soldiers--but I suppose they don’t matter if they aren’t Garlean.” She bit her tongue before mentioning the Resonatorium.

His lips pulled back in a sort of grin. “There’s the anger I expected. Nor are you above the same tit-for-tat as your leaders after all.”

“We can spit facts at one another all day. It doesn’t change anything.” Aeryn clenched her fists to stop their trembling--and the urge to throw a punch. That would be a helluva thing to do at a negotiation. Her eyes snapped up to his again. “Or are you trying to goad me?”

“Hrmph. No,” he said emphatically, and she believed him. “But we should each return to our respective camps, and make preparations for said negotiations to continue.”

Aeryn took a shaky breath as she stepped back. She did not trust herself to speak--she had no conscious idea what to say--so merely nodded, not looking away from him.

After a long, awkward moment, he finally broke eye contact and turned, stalking back to his guards, armor clinking with each weighty step. Aeryn waited until he was out of sight before returning to the Alliance side.

Lyse was waiting for her near the large tent set up for the parley. “There you are!” She exclaimed, relieved. “Were you talking to Varis just now? Or was I imagining things?”

Aeryn shook her head. “Not imagining. He was asking about Regula van Hydrus, and the Warring Triad.”

“The legatus of the VIth Legion?” Lyse looked down. “Honestly, I’d forgotten; you ended up working with him in the end, right? He saved Unukalhai.”

“And I told the emperor so,” Aeryn admitted. “According to some of Regula’s soldiers, he was Varis’ friend.” She frowned, looking toward the Garlean lines. “Maybe his only one.”

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for ‘His Radiance’?”

Aeryn scoffed. “Hardly. More...understanding, I think. Or trying to. What would that do to a person; to have only one other that you could trust and rely on?”

“And then lose them?” Lyse finished. They exchanged concerned looks, before Lyse let out a deep breath. “I think that’s enough sympathizing with the devil for one day. Come on; the others are waiting.”

The Alliance representatives were stunned by Varis’ candor and zealous proclamations. Aeryn could barely hear the others' responses, thinking instead of Gaius Baelsar’s own impassioned speech as they had ridden the lift down to the Ultima Weapon.

He had called Eorzea a land riddled with falsehoods, lies propped up by weak leaders to placate a weaker populace. But if what Varis said about the first emperor--his own grandfather!--was true, if everything about the Imperial agenda was just another scheme of the Paragons...

Nanamo’s certain voice began to cut through the haze. Aeryn focused on the Sultana, her own surprise giving way to pride in the young ruler, how far she had come since their first meeting under the Sultantree.

“And you, Warrior of Light?” the Emperor demanded. “Would you refuse me as well?”

Aeryn felt everyone’s eyes turn her way. She wished they wouldn’t; the attention was as smothering as an Ul’dahn heatwave.

She met Varis’ gaze. “Your prize is a lie and your masters demons,” she said bluntly. “I’ll stop you and the Ascians--no matter what.”

He sneered. “I thought you had more sense. Don’t you see? Regula was right! The Echo is crucial not only to ridding the world of eikons, but in saving it entirely--returning it to its original, natural state. That is what the Ascians mean--and what they fear in you.”

Aeryn glared. “Regula died because he believed another’s life worth more than his own--his last words were of service, of stopping the eikons and their followers from causing a Calamity, not helping them bring more about! If you think after all we’ve struggled through and accomplished, that I would ever agree to mass murder, then you didn’t ‘take my measure’ at all. I’ll defend Eorzea--this entire world--from your madness with everything I have.”

It was more than she usually said at such meetings, and she felt her friends’ eyes on her even as she and Varis glared at one another.

“It would seem the Alliance is of one mind on this matter,” Nanamo said firmly.

The meeting ended as Aeryn had assumed--despite all hope--that it would. She kept her eyes on Varis until he had swept out to bring the Empire's hammer down upon Eorzea for their defiance.

She wished, once again, that events in Azys Lla had ended differently. Perhaps losing his singular friend had left Varis no one else to discuss matters with, had left him open to the Ascians’ manipulations and the wild idea that any scheme was worth it to defeat them at their own game.

Thinking back to the empty bodies currently in the Rising Stones’ infirmary, Aeryn could almost understand such desperation.

Almost.

She joined her comrades as they prepared for war.

[fireflake-art]

Hello do you want to see a handful of picrews I made of my top seven ocs

No? Fuck you here they are

Sinopa "Vixen" Ashley Arianna-Byrne

She/her. Cisgender polyamorous lesbian. 14 - 20 (story takes place a year at a time for six years) y/o born on March's first Tuesday, Aries (or, according to the correct zodiac dates, a Pisces). Extrovert. Freckled caucasian of Irish and Spanish descent. Atheist. Mystic; fire nymph (first half-human nymph in existence, only alive because her birth was charged with pure life magic, thus her lifeblood is magic). Raised in Medusa, Texas. Daughter of now deceased Lily Arianna-Byrne and absent Dick Oak, younger maternal half-sister of Siobhan. Childhood best friends turned queerplatonic partners with Noah and Ben, romantic partners with Rikki and Solstice, eventual sexual partner of Divina, best friend to Collin and Rowan. Has vitiligo (condition where patches of skin turn white), autism, ADHD, dyslexia, dyscalculia (dyslexia but for numbers), anhidrosis (the inability to sweat) and severe acne. Dancer, singer, rapper, writer, eventual advisor, Knight and ambassador of the Monster Queen and soldier in the Mystic War For Humanity, plus a Mystic bar-owner. Loud, proud, extremely energetic, ignorant, sassy, wisecracking, blunt, stubborn, anger issues, no filter or impulse control, hard on herself, provides unconditional love to everyone around her except abusers, mostly liars. Abilities include pyrokinesis (to create, control and manipulate fire), regeneration (accelerated healing), empathy regarding love, sensing life, reading verbal lies. Fun fact; kisses people on the cheek as a greeting like they do in Argentina due to Lily being raised there.

Noah William Nico-Somni

He/him. Transgender polyamorous asexual demi-gray-homoromantic. 14 - 20 y/o born on July 11th; Cancer. Introvert. Pale caucasian, skin is extremely sensitive. Jewish. Mystic; human turned ghost (death by self-inflicted cuts. Ghosts are very different from spirits; spirits showcase personality/identity in their form and don't have to be a dead human, ghosts are aging astral projections of a dead human's body) turned poltergeist (a chaotic ghost-spirit hybrid). Raised in Medusa, Texas. Birth son of deceased Abigail Nico and deceased Michael Somni, younger brother to deceased Bradley Nico-Somni, adoptive son of Chantarelle and Tim Smat. Very early ex-childhood friends with Rikki turned queerplatonic partners, childhood best friends turned qpps with Vixen, romantic partners with Ben, best friends with Divina and Solstice, small crush on Collin. Has Emetophobia (fear of vomit/vomiting), social anxiety, selective mutism, panic attacks and depression. Dancer, poet, singer, eventual student of the Spirit Realm and ambassador for the Ghost Queen, solider in the Mystic War For Humanity. Quiet, moody, grumpy, sarcastic, self-deprecating, sympathetic, fighter, minor case of OCD, wants to help. Abilities include astral projection (body is a corporeal hologram based off a ghost's human form, also can flick off the tangibility of their body), telekinesis (to levitate and control objects; only poltergeists have this), possession of a living host (poltergeist-specific), not sustaining injuries internally (having physical injuries has no actual effect beyond appearance). Fun fact; will calm down from an episode by a person singing the famous "One Bright Day" contradictory poem.

Ben Asher D'Hara

He/him. Cisgender polyamorous bisexual. 14 -20 y/o born on February 26th, Pisces. Ambivert. Tan Latinx. Wiccan. Mystic; Human; born Seer. Raised in Medusa, Texas. Son of deceased Alexander D'Hara and alcoholic Robin Master, younger brother of Rowan D'Hara. Childhood best friends and now queerplatonic partners with Vixen and Rikki, romantic partners with Noah, sexual partners with Solstice, crush on qpp Divina. Has Axenfeld-Rieger Syndrome (type 3 and with the giant pupils, wears contact glasses in combat and sunglasses to formal events), severe anxiety and anger issues. Fashionesta, cosmetologist, eventual royal advisor to the Mystic United Kingdom and soldier in the Mystic War For Humanity. Shy, meek, quiet, repressive, obedient, kind, sweet, a proud self-proclaimed cross-dresser, never wants anything to change, silently believes he is undeserving of love and a burden to those around him. Abilities include future sight (emotionally-triggered premonitions), seeing "beyond the veil" (his human brain doesn't actively work to deceive him into not seeing the supernatural as they are like in most average humans), changing some minor future events by intervening in present time, minor empathy and telepathy. Fun fact; most of his clothing was bought as an expensive gift from Rikki.

Rikki Penelope Femm

She/her. Intersex polyamorous bisexual. 14 - 20 y/o born on September 10th, Libra. Ambivert. Mixed; Nigerian maternally, Cuban paternally. Devote Catholic. Mystic; Cambion; Cubus. Raised in Medusa, Texas. Daughter of Theodore Femm and formerly absent Sultana Mariscus. Very early ex-childhood friends with Noah turned queerplatonic partner, fast friends with Ben turned qpp, romantic partners with Vixen and Collin, sexual partners with Divina and Solstice. Has heterochromia, ADHD, social awkwardness, hypersexuality, sensitive hearing, a bit of a superiority complex, and an inferiority complex due to that superiority complex. Writer, fashion designer, fashionesta, makeup artist, child model, bioengineer, scientist. Kind-hearted, stubborn, sarcastic, judgemental, repressive, lonely, file your emotions away type, explosive, ball of resentment, feels guilty of that resentment basically all the time, has a tendency to attempt to buy friendship through showering people with gifts and/or expensive attire, tricky relationship with her self-worth. Abilities include flight (painfully retractable bat-like wings, also has a similar tail), weak hypnotism, lust generation, superhearing (thanks to unretractable horns), enslaving kiss, dreamwalking (must be magically-charged by a client), slight empathy. Fun fact; believes her father can do no wrong.

Dixie and Vienna Divina Eliana Aure

She/Her. Polyamorous queer. 16 - 21 y/o (met in the second year) born on June 22nd; Gemini-Cancer cusp. Introvert. Mixed; Persian maternally, African paternally. Zoroastrianist. Mystic; Cambion; Gemini (has the ability to split herself into two, her counterparts go by Dixie and Vienna; they're sort of like if you could separate your left brain and right brain). Born in Ohio, raised from age 10 in New York City. Daughter of deceased Esther Aure and absent [REDACTED]. Romantic partners with Collin and Solstice, sexual partners with Vixen and Rikki, qpp with Ben. Close friends with Noah. Has Antisocial Personality Disorder and a hearing disability (ears were severely damaged as a child, now wears hearing aids). Professional hacker, con-woman, paid muscle, boxer, eventual Knight of the Monster Queen, ambassador to the Faerie Queen, soldier in the Mystic War For Humanity. Manipluative, self-loathing, deceitful, two-faced, sassy, grumpy, quiet, moody, bold, otherwise confident. Abilities include Aerokinesis (to manipulate and control air). Fun fact; has a pet horse.

Collin Zachariah Riot

He/him. Transgender polyamorous het. 14 - 19 (met in the second book) y/o born on August 5th, Leo. Ambivert. Italian. Christian. Mystic; Human; cursed Shapeshifter. Born in Italy, ranaway at age 13 to New York City. Son of Mr. And Mrs. Riot, younger brother of Jamie Riot. Romantic partners with Divina, Solstice and Rikki. Crush on Vixen. Best friends with Noah, Ben and Rowan. Has ADHD. Collin's just an awkward trans kid that was appearantly fostered by abusive demons that the gang saved him from. Gamer, nerd, artist, game designer, hacker, eventual knight of the Monster Queen and soldier in the Mystic War For Humanity. Resourceful, fanboy, flirty (the "make a sex joke and erupt in nervous laughter out of embarrassment" type of flirt), curious, brave, somewhat timid, shamelessly uses geek speak and slang, definitely has fanart pinned on his walls. Abilities include shapeshifting. Fun fact; wanted to be a superhero as a kid.

Solstice Eden

Vaey/Vem, Fae/Faerie, She/Her. Non-binary, intersex polyamorous queer. 19 - 20 (met in the 5th) y/o born during an equinox on the spring solstice. Extrovert. Race; N/A. Religion; a hybrid of Pagan, Polytheism, Wiccan, Shamanism, Taosim, Buddhism and Hinduism called "the Faerie Faith" (incorrectly spelled the "Fairy Faith" by humankind). Mystic; Fae; Faerie; Queen. Raised in the Faerie Realm (a dimension on Earth unseen by non-Fae). Family; N/A (was bred scientifically to harness all biological traits/powers of every Fae and Faerie species). Romantic partners with Divina and Collin, sexual partners with Vixen, Rikki and Ben, crush on Noah. Queen of the Fae/Faerie Queen, soldier in the Mystic War For Humanity. Down to earth, flirtatious (the subtle and smooth type), excitable, fun-loving, responsible, kind, chill, affectionate, bold, brave, blunt. Abilities include Chlorokinesis (the ability to create, control and manipulate plant life), accelerated healing, super speed, talking to wild life, mild shapeshifting, mind control. Fun fact; was abused by her childhood caretaker.

[monsta-sextories]

Poolside- 10

Son Hyunwoo

word count: 1868

🎧 Notion- Tash Sultana

You’re dressed in a typical looking summer dress. It’s a pale yellow that compliments the new tone of your skin from all those days out in the sun. It feels like summer is nearing the end, even though it’s not. Just the good part… the best part. You look at your hair in the mirror, your mother will probably comment on needing a trim but that’s okay. Your nails could use a manicure, sure. None of that had mattered these last weeks.

You check your phone once again for the time and decide to leave it behind in your bedroom. As you make your way down the steps you avoid looking in the direction of the small library- your sanctuary. Your temple of hope… and the dreams that had been blooming just a few days ago. It makes your stomach uneasy.

You make your way through the quiet house and notice a few people finishing up the last bit of work. Looking for the smallest details to be buffed. It makes you sigh, and it feels like your body gets ten pounds heavier.

Down the hallways and to the large front doors, you walk and shed the last bits of memories. The last bit of feeling you had left. Its easier to abandon it.

Your parents should be here any moment. So you open the front door, leave it open, wide open. And you sit down in the entry way, resting your head against the door frame. A few moments go by unbothered. You suppose it will be a nice welcoming gesture when they’re chauffeured up the drive way. They will see you waiting for them and they might be surprised… but they won’t notice the left over tears lining your face. Or maybe they will… and in their self absorption they will surely mistake it for happiness to see them… relief to have them back. Something absurd.

So when the gates open, and you see the black recognizable car sail up the drive, you allow the tears to fall one by one, quietly and secretly before wiping them away and picking yourself up.

…

Dinner that night is treated like a celebration, or a gift. Your parents have Betsy prepare dinner and they talk and talk about their brief travels. You notice the glow of your mother’s skin, but there’s something unnatural about it, especially in comparison to your father’s. You assume she didn’t spend nearly as much time out in the sun as the tan would lead you to believe, but instead had a spray tan applied to fit in on whatever beach she had visited. You can see her now- large brimmed hat, sunglasses, drink in hand as she sits somewhere shaded fanning herself from the “terrible heat.”

Despite that, she has sweeter stories to tell than your father who seems to be unhappy about the entirety of the whole vacation.

The patio was swept and hosed down and you insisted on eating outside tonight. It was your idea to suggest Betsy make extra food for everyone else to be able to enjoy. This meant of course, Hyunwoo, Betsy, George, and whoever stuck around this late could relax a bit and take a second to suck up to your parents for their generosity and mention how nice it was to have them back.

“So,” your mother began noticing the way your eyes would drift in the direction of the guest house waiting your Hyunwoo to appear. “How has Hyunwoo liked his stay so far?”

Her honey voice and narrowed eyes were a mere insinuation, but not a direct one.

“I think he says how much he appreciates it at least three times a day. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but I personally believe I’ve never seen the yard look better.”

Your father nods in approval and your mother’s lips purse just enough to hide her accusatory smile.

“He has a gift,” your father grunts, but there’s something dismissive about it.

“Its nice that he’s about your age. I’m sure that helped, having someone to talk to while we were away.” In contrast to her demeanor she was snake like, intuitive, and quick to judge.

“Yeah, I believe he might almost consider me a friend,” you say hoping that Betsy delivers the food soon. You take a sip of your wine glass, swirling it around out of boredom but also anticipation. Hyunwoo surely will stop by, if anything to say hello.

“I think he’s very attractive,” your mother goads with a lift in her brows. Your father looks at her approvingly.

“Don’t you start,” he huffs.

Just before the conversation can progress you watch as Betsy carries out a roasting pan with a steaming chicken, browned and seasoned. Your mouth waters at the sight alone, but the smell is strong full of flavor.

“Betsy this is absolutely amazing!” your mother coos as she places it on the table and begins to cut it. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the quiet footsteps approach behind you until Betsy speaks.

“Ah, Hyunwoo, why don’t you help be bring out the rest of the dishes.”

You turn your head to see him wearing a short sleeve button down, clean and neat. His khaki shorts wrinkle free as if he had planned to impress tonight.

“I’ll help too,” you say jumping to your feet. He briefly glances in your direction.

“Nice to see you again, hope you enjoyed your trip,” Hyunwoo says with a smile directed at your parents. Your mom looks at him with a wide grin, and your father responds pleasantly reaching out a hand to shake.

“Ah, we wont get into it just yet. But, my, the work you’ve done out here is absolutely spectacular.”

You don’t wait to hear the rest, but instead make your way into the kitchen and wait for Hyunwoo to follow. When he steps inside, expression softening from the praise, he looks at you.

“That’s a nice dress,” is all he says.

“Thank you,” you say nervously as you pick up a dish off of the counter. You don’t move until he’s there as well doing the same.

“You look nice as well,” you say. Because he does. He always does.

He responds with a curt smile and takes his dish and begins to walk away, you hesitate, wanting to say something, but he’s already strides ahead of you.

…

Dinner goes smoothly. Hyunwoo sits across form you next to your father, and you notice how your mother watches each time you look in his direction. They talk, hyunwoo politely listening with brief interjections of agreement or questions. Your father rants about business, and the economy. Your mother sits quietly, eating… occasionally rolling her eyes and only speaking up when she disagrees with your father.

You aren’t paying close attention to notice when exactly it gets brought up, but you notice the moment both of your parents eyes land on you.

“Cooking? She can’t cook” you hear your father snort.

“Where did you learn to cook?” your mother asks looking at you in amazement.

You look at them both, over to Betsy and then back at Hyunwoo.

“Uh, I’ve watched Betsy,” you say with a shrug.

“It was delicious,” Hyunwoo compliments casually, with a slight awkward smile. The shock on your parents face is annoying to say the least, and Hyunwoo must pick up on it because he gracefully switches their attention towards the hedges, asking for their opinions on the additional height.

Afterwards you notice a slight apologetic look from Hyunwoo, and a rather distrustful one from your mother, as if whatever suspicions she had have been proved true.

Not long after, the conversation begins to slow and Hyunwoo is first to excuse himself. Its not too much later that its just you sitting across from your parents with a pit in your gut as you cant manage to finish your plate.

“So, you’re a cook now?” your mother begins, “that doesn’t sound like you.”

You look up at her, noticing the way your father seems to mimic her curiosity.

“I got bored, like you anticipated,” you answer raising an eyebrow.

“Hyunwoo seems to enjoy it,” she says with a slight challenge.

“He’s just being polite,” you say tightening your jaw just a bit.

“That he is,” your mother says a bit softly. “he’s a very nice young man.”

Your father looks over at her, a question on his face.

“What’s your point?” you ask trying to remain amicable.

Your mom shrugs, “there isn’t one. Just an observation.”

“His parents also aren’t millionaires, and he didn’t graduate from an Ivy League school. I’m sure you’ve already observed that.” You let a bit of bitterness leak into your words, and your father is first to respond.

“What does that matter to us?” He says, showcasing his offense.

You only roll your eyes, and your mom keeps quiet for a moment.

“He’s a very nice young man,” your other says with a sigh. It sounds like realization, it gives you a weird sliver of hope. Like maybe… they really do think he’s great.

“And it is too bad he’s less fortunate than us, but we can’t continue to pity him,” your mother adds. The words strike fire in you, because… pity? She thinks this is all for pity?

Your father nods in agreement. “yes, dear, I enjoy his work but cooking for him? Cleaning out a guest house? the… charges on your credit card?”

Your throat tightens. You forgot about the purchases you made at all of the male clothing stores…

“That’s not.. its not… not like that…” you stammer out.

“So what is it like then?” your mother asks with a serious expression.

“you said it yourself,” you say shyly, “he’s just a really great… worker.”

You finish the words the safest way possible. The only way you know how to. the only way that would make sense.

“Yes and we pay him for that. It’s unprofessional to give him special treatment just because you might fancy his appearance,” your father says with a roll of his eyes

“its not about his appearance,” you say quickly, “i… I enjoy his company. We get along.”

“You don’t have anything in common,” your mother charges immediately.

“Well, I’d like to!” you say with a quick flare of your temper. “He’s hardworking, smart, funny, kind… he’s… he’s-“

“what are you saying?” your father interjects, face red.

You think for a moment… you try to relax. You remind yourself it doesn’t have to go there, nothing good will come of this. But, instead you remember all the time you spent together. all the feelings that you had suppressed out of fear, and here they were face to face ready to fight.

“I’m saying, I think….” You look at both of your parents mustering the confidence you have. Its then you notice Betsy peeking out of the back door. Her eyes are wide, mouth open… but you can see the excitement in her surprise. She’s been listening, and she gives you a look of amazement , which is enough to push the last sentence out.

“I’m saying I think I’d like to start seeing him.”

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[awkward-sultana]

Scenes I would have liked to see in Magnificent Century (always being updated)

These are just things I would have liked to see, or honestly just hyper specific scenes I’ve envisioned in my own head. Don't come at me about realism. That's not why any of us are here.

Would love to hear everyone's opinions and what you would have like to see in the show!

Hürrem telling Suleiman about Leo and him accepting it A big part of Hürrem’s power in the harem in the show is that she got away with a lot of things, whether it be through manipulation or Suleiman’s love for her, but mostly it was through being smart and manipulative. That’s a huge part of her character, but it would have been nice to see a moment where she doesn’t win and has to come clean to Suleiman. His acceptance of Leo would have made their love more genuine in my eyes. He knew she was a slave and had a life before him.

Hürrem's past as a priest’s daughter When Hürrem went to Edirne, it would have been great to see her open the palace to the sick and nursed them instead of sitting there helplessly in literally one spot the whole time. We saw her help Hatice medically in seasons 1 and 2 and she was a priest’s daughter so we know she saw a lot of sickness and has some basic idea of giving aid.

Hürrem seriously going off on Suleiman at least once Again, a big part of Hürrem's legacy was how nuts Suleiman was for her and how she could get away with things other concubines couldn’t. I would have liked to see her really loser her temper at him at least once. Maybe go off about how difficult it is in the harem, being a woman battling for her life and her kids’ lives. It would have made their relationship seem deeper than it was in the show.

Generally seeing Suleiman's absolute obsession with Hürrem That man was nuts about her in real life. True Gomez and Morticia Addams.

Some good moments between young Mustafa and Hürrem Like thanking him for saving Mehmet from drowning in the first season or saying, “Thank you for being such a good big brother to my son.” She protected him during the janissary riots, but we didn’t see much day to day interactions between them. It would have made the distancing between them more impactful.

Another grown sultana in the family, like Mahidevran’s daughter Raziye It would have been great to see the dynamic between Mihrimah and another daughter, especially one that was older but still within her age range. The aunts were older than her and she constantly had to show them respect, so it didn’t feel like a fair fight. And Esmahan had to defer to Mihrimah too because she was the Sultan’s daughter. Another daughter who is equal to Mihrimah in most ways would have been fun.

Hürrem pulling away during the whole Firuze thing Hürrem had to stay on Suleiman’s good side because he’s the sultan, but I would have loved to see her pull away from him in small ways, like not spending time with him or choosing to eat alone and not with him. I’m a sucker for a good grovel.

Suleiman actually apologizing for things he’s done Again, I love a good grovel and it never happens in this show.  He always just got sick and woke up and told Hürrem how much he loved her. This goes into Hürrem pulling away during the Firuze arc and showing Suleiman her love is reasonably conditional. Again, real life Suleiman was whipped for Hürrem.

Ibrahim and Hürrem bonding at least once over being slaves and considering what their lives might have been like at home This kind of goes into my last point of Hürrem pulling away from Suleiman when he was with Firuze. I always thought that would be a great scene when they’re having dinner with the dynasty members when Firuze was in the picture. I envisioned Hürrem mulling about her “home” in Eastern Europe and confusing the dynasty about what "home" to her seems to mean now that's she's pretty unhappy, then asking Ibrahim in front of all of them what he thinks his life might have been like if he hadn’t been taken. This could have given way to a deep scene between Hürrem and Ibrahim as well as a sweet scene later on of Suleiman asking Hürrem to share her memories of her home.

Firuze slowly losing favor instead of an instantaneous decision There are so many deus ex machinas in the show that act as resolutions to issues and the Firuze thing was one of them. I would have liked to see her slowly lose favor, like treating Cihangir without permission from Hürrem or Suleiman, being disrespectful to Hürrem in front of him, or butting in on the family grieving Mehmet’s injury. 

Hafsa and Hürrem bonding over something other than hating Mahidevran, like the loss of Hürrem's unmentioned son It was great to see her realize  Mahidevran’s manipulations, but I hoped for a deeper resolution between her and Hürrem. We only see Hafsa acknowledging Cihangir’s illness like once or twice, which is so out of character, but I know they were trying to keep her firmly in the area of antagonist (crappy writing). Hürrem had another son, Şehzade Abdullah, who died as a toddler. Losing a child would have been a good bonding moment for them and brought them back as mothers.

Hurrem’s kids speaking Russian(?) One thing I always found wholesome is when children speak the language of both parents. It would have been a great homage to Hürrem's roots, since we didn’t see it a lot, especially in season 3. On that note, I would have liked to see Hürrem revert to her native tongue when she lost her temper, since that’s super common.

Mercan going over to Hürrem's side and staying in Season 4 One of Hürrem's best character traits was her ability to make her enemies her friends and Mercan was a great enemy. Convincing someone who was so zealously devoted to another dynasty member to come over to her side? Iconic. His and Sümbül's dynamic was also great and watching them being forced to work together would have been fun.

A reunion between Hürrem and Gulnihal, maybe Hürrem meeting Gülnihal's kids and husband and seeing Hürrem's kids grown Characters tend to disappear and never be mentioned again in this show despite their big influence on characters and their development. She should have gotten a kiss on the hand like Hatice and Suleiman did for Afife. She raised Hürrem's kids.

Ibrahim telling Suleiman to stay out of his marriage during the Nigar affair This is probably the most unrealistic thing I envisioned, but I love when one character beneath another in rank or station stands up to that person as a friend. And Ibrahim was getting bolder throughout the seasons so it wouldn’t have been totally out of character. 

Hürrem helping Nigar escape with her daughter instead of Firuze The whole Hürrem helping Firuze escape thing made no sense but it was in there to prove that Firuze was a spy. I think I speak for everyone in this fandom when I say I would have liked to see Hürrem help Nigar and Esmanur escape instead and the whole kidnapping Mihrimah’s baby thing not happen. But it would not hinge on the writer's hating Nigar's character and making her lose her mind and betraying Hürrem for a man.

Mihrimah being Selim’s valide sultan Mihrimah was well aware of the fratricide law, it was the whole reason she worked with Hürrem to kill Mustafa. She wasn’t so naïve to think her own brothers wouldn't get caught in each other’s crosshairs. Kösem forgave Osman for killing her own son, I don’t think it’s out of the realm of realism to see Mihrimah and Selim get back on good terms. It’s one of my favorite parts of her real life legacy.

Suleiman letting Hürrem do something really shady for him at least once He couldn't get his hands dirty, but he knew at least to some degree how cunning his wife was, even if he was willfully blind to it. Would have loved to see a "I won't ask questions" kind of conversation between them and Hürrem strolling from the room like a hitman for hire.

Cihangir seeing some sort of consequences for his naïve support of Mustafa As wise as he was, he was so painfully naïve when it came to Mustafa, seeing him face some consequences for that would have been satisfying.

Suleiman seeing more negative ramifications of sending Hürrem away in S3 Suleiman tended to send Hürrem off willy nilly because he could and not really take into account for the ramifications, especially in such a charged atmosphere. Seeing consequences to those choices would have been satisfying and would have reinforced Hürrem's importance as a partner, parent to adolescent children, harem ruler, etc.

Mihrimah’s trip back to the palace in S2 after Hürrem was ambushed being more difficult, like an actual kidnapping I really like antagonists being taken down by their own hubris and it would have been fun to see Hafsa suffer real consequences for her fake ambush. 

Hatice going off on Hafsa about how she treats Hürrem at least once in S2 She questioned her a few times in season 2, like when Hürrem's horse was stabbed. She did it a few times in calm ways in season 1 and once or twice in season 2, but seeing her lose her temper even a little would have been satisfying. I think this could have more happened if they had stuck to actual history and Hafsa had come as a slave and not a princess.

Suleiman seeking more comfort in Hürrem Suleiman was described as “weak” for Hürrem and it wasn’t really shown in his more emotional moments. The show expected us to be fine with his speeches and poems and see basic expressions of affection as “weakness.” When Ibrahim died, I would have really like to see him break down with Hürrem, his face in her stomach, the whole nine yards. He really just glared at her in that scene.

Hürrem and Suleiman being more of political and personal partners In the show a lot he tells her to “mind her business” and “don’t get involved in things that don’t concern you.” He also blew her off and treated her like a child when she voiced certain concerns (his condescending little smiles made me feral). A big part of her legacy was being an advisor to him and their abilities to share with each other what they couldn’t share with others.

The real importance of Hürrem's new haseki status and what that meant This was such a thing for me. Hürrem being the first with the haseki status was HUGE in the harem at the time but that whole story line was abandoned for the sake of rivalry between her and Mahidevran, which would have been there regardless. I hated seeing Hürrem curtsy to the sultanas in later seasons, especially in season 4 when Vahide was the actress. It was like having to watch Hafsa curtsy to anyone.

Mihrimah pulling away from Hürrem more during her engagement/marriage to Rüstem "Yeah, I'm doing this for my brothers but do you expect me to happy about it? Gush and fawn over having a kid with a man who kind of repulses me? I have postpartum depression? I'm super unhappy so I can't imagine why." Like I've mentioned before, big fan of having a character's ego come back and bite them and I think Hürrem should have suffered more consequences for basically telling Mihrimah her happiness doesn't matter. She was a little delusional in S4, acting all coy, telling Mihrimah she still loves Rüstem and they would find their way back to each other. Girl...she never liked her husband, stop trying to act like her homegirl and push her to be happy in a marriage she would have rather died than be in.

Gülfem standing up to Hatice at least once Hatice had a real high horse sometimes and even if she was insulting someone else, I could tell it made Gülfem feel a certain way because she was also a slave. This is yet another character I would have liked to see lose their temper in a more aggressive way. Like, girl, have some character development.

Some sort of resolution between Mihrimah and Esmahan Mihrimah had pretty much know other girl her age to lean on, I think it would have been easier to invest inheritance character if you saw her break down maybe once with Esmahan instead of trying to be tough. Like when Esmahan went to comfort her before her wedding. Mihrimha’s fake tough persona in that moment seemed hollow and just like a young bratty kid. Or when Humasah was kidnapped.

Bali Bey manhandle the sultanas a little bit during their questioning about Hürrem's disappearance I’m going to get a lot of flack for this one. I don’t mean him really putting his hands on the actresses, I mean like grabbing Şah's arm when she leaves. I like seeing haughty characters being taken down a peg. They would have seen they’re not as infallible as their status makes them feel.

More bonding between Gülfem and Hürrem at least once Gülfem lost a child and saw what Mahidevran and Hürrem had to go through fearing for their own sons. Hürrem had the chance to pay Gülfem some sort of compliment on the balcony when Cihangir was sick, like "I'm not as strong as you." Out of character, but this is basically an OOC post.

Hürrem let some things take their natural course Like when Mahidevran discharged Esma when she took charge of the harem. Suleiman would have caught on eventually that Hürrem was constantly unable to spend time with him due to taking care of 5 kids, or having to train brand new concubines.

Hatice being happy with her new husband I really liked him.

Hatice getting some closure about Sadika A big part of Hatice’s early character was her empathy for those below her (most of the time). She liked Sadika and wanted to see her happy and I’m sure Sadika had grown some affection for Hatice. I would have like to see Sadika write a letter to Hatice before attempting to murder Suleyman saying something along the lines of “I’m sorry for lying to you, my friendship with you was real but this was more important.”

Hürrem coming together with one of Suleiman's's sisters just as a fellow woman Maybe when Lutfi hit Şah, Hürrem was there and Şah let her pull her up off the floor. They were all women and mothers stuck in a patriarchy.

Mahidevran give Helena permission to clap back at Fatma In that scenes when Fatma was like "Did you really think you were going to marry him?" Saying something like, "At least he wanted to marry me" and Mahidevran laughing.

More affection between the concubines and other harem members and the royal kids They were all raised in the same harem, I'm sad we didn't get to see some found family-ish dynamics. Those kids must have had a lot of "aunts and uncles" in the servants. I'm sure Mihrimah saw more than just one or two of the concubines as mother/aunt/sister figures, especially as the Sultan's only daughter.

A better ending for Gülfem Because what the fuck was that?

Mihrimah going off on her aunts at least once While she had to defer to them because they were older and was an unspoken respect thing, she could get away with talking to them a certain way more than maybe Hürrem could. "I know you're trying to kill my mother and that can't happen because then what happens to us?" or "I know you killed Nazil, who raised us, and you thought we'd never find out and see you differently? Stop acting like you give an absolute flying fuck about us when you know what will happen if our mother is killed or Mustafa becomes Sultan. This is war."

Hürrem showing more affection to adult Mihrimah She absolutely had to defer towards her sons' safety, but sometimes she acted like she actively disliked her only daughter in S4.

Mihrimah not being a brat when she was young (S2) It would have made her rise to power more impressive and more endearing. Sometimes older Mihrimah just seemed like a princess who had never been told no so she always expected to win.

Mahiedvran and Hürrem sharing one sincere hug They had more things in common than not. They were both women, mothers, slaves stuck in a patriarchy and both could lose their sons with one decision from a man who has complete control.

Hürrem having more quietly pervasive PTSD symptoms. She displayed plenty of symptoms like hyperarousal, emotional over-stress, emotional dysregulations, hypervigilance, etc, but a lot of symptoms can be more quietly sinister and they missed that chance. The symptoms they did display first and foremost took away from her character because we couldn't differentiate all the time between angry Hürrem and traumatized Hürrem. "She's angry and violent and irritable? Oh, that's jUsT HüRrEm."

More rank-opposite hand kissing One trope I will forever and forever always live for is shows of deference opposite of rank. When Suleiman and Hatice kissed Afife's hand? Loved it. Suleiman kissing Hafsa's hand? Not totally the same, but kind of still love it.

Afife telling Şah and Hatice she was ashamed of them at least once Would have rocked their shit. And you know she for sure was.

Mihrimah being happy with Taşlıcalı in the end Probably the second most implausible head canon. They had both lost a lot and know what war costs, why not end up with another person who can empathize with your unique pain?

More of Gülfem and Hürrem's real historical relationship Always going to touch on sticking to historical accuracy when I get a chance. Leslie Peirce touches on the fact that Gülfem was probably more of a mentor to Hürrem than she was in the show, guiding Hürrem through what was an unprecedented rise in the harem and, therefore, a huge and probably shocking rise in responsibilities that Hürrem didn't know how to manage on her own. Suleiman trusted Gülfem with Hürrem when he was on campaign and Gülfem was most likely there when Hürrem died. Instead of being the dynasty's emotional support pet in season 3, we should have seen her turn coats for the better.

Women lashing out at each other for their children and not for a man The real reasons Mahidevran and Hürrem probably lashed out at each other the most was because the fratricide law dictated every facet of their lives. Love, sex and jealousy were not half as much on their minds as the show made it out to be. Let me see vicious mothers, not jealous girls.

Hafsa and Hürrem having one good hug Self explanatory

More about Suleiman's late children He had I think 2-3 children before Mustafa that all died of the plague that we never really heard about. And it would have given even more credence of the severity of Mahidevran trying to poison Hürrem when she was pregnant.

More about the entire royal family's grief and trauma with Sultan Selim I That man was batshit and you hear offhanded comments such as "I see your father when I look at you" when Suleyman does something cruel. Go more into that. What was it like to fear for your life, your son's/brother's/uncle's lives? Selim I literally hunted half his family down and executed them. It would have given them so much more depth as characters.

Leo haunting Ibrahim In the back of scenes, the blurry character the audience only just notices, the specter standing over this shoulder in a quiet room, the beating heart beneath the floorboards. The start of the death of his innocence given form, standing at the end of the hall as his body is being carried away. Fucking art.

Nigar being on Hürrem's side in season 3 and being totally psycho about it I would like like to see Nigar regrow the brain cell she had in season 1, but maintained her scorched earth policy in season 3, but on Hürrem's side. Would have been great. Snapped: Harem Edition.

The Development of Esma and Hürrem's relationship Esma was one of the harem girls Hürrem didn't like at the beginning of the first season and then she was one of the only people Hürrem ever trusted with her children. I would have liked to see that development, or at least the moment Hürrem chose Esma to be her kid's nanny.

[advancedanimationjamie]

Video Essay Script

Assessment 1A: Video Essay: Animation Principles and Emotion in Character Acting

 In a fantasy world of Vikings, dragons and puberty, comes Dreamwork’s How to Train Your Dragon; a tale of family, friendship and discovery. Told from the perspective of an awkward teen, Hiccup Haddock, who just so happens to be son and heir to Stoick the Vast, the Chieftain of the besieged town of Berk. With dragons routinely raiding their village the clumsy Hiccup struggles to find his place in the defense, much to the chagrin of his brave and very capable father. Often feeling overlooked and underappreciated, Hiccup does all that he can to prove himself to his father and his tribe often resulting in the opposite effect. But when Hiccup discovers the true reason behind the attacks in the process of befriending a dragon, he finds himself conflicted on who to side with; the misunderstood dragons, or his people  (IMDB, n.d.).

 The relationship between Hiccup and Stoick is one of the main driving forces in this film with their opposing personalities and ideologies often forming the basis for new plot points or problems to emerge (Beskow, 2016). Following a controversial moment in the film where Hiccup chooses to side with the dragons after all, the father and son engage in a heated argument that acts not only as a catalyst for the epic conclusion of the film, but a seeming break down in their relationship.

 Insert scene here: https://youtu.be/F6nVLvQOMLM

 Hiccup is resourceful and curious where Stoick is powerful and traditional. Both seek to protect what it is they hold dear, with equal amounts of zeal and obstinacy to see through what they believe is right; albeit through different means. Where Hiccup lacks in experience and athleticism he makes up for in open-mindedness and creativity, and where Stoick finds his strength in leadership and command he lacks flexibility, often letting his stubbornness get in the way of strategy.

 When looking at this scene from a technical stand point, the 3D rendered style and realistic implementation of the animation principles has complimented the serious tone of this scene, emphasizing the drama and tension at this point in the film and the overall emotional complexity of the film itself (Beskow, 2016). With the character’s cards all laid on the table so to speak, this scene reveals their most honest intentions and truest selves; a fact evident in their words, movements and facial expressions. With emotions running high there is no room for pretence, and the candidness of this scene allows for an impressive and skillful manipulation of the animation principles in a way that creates a believable and engaging performance (Sultana, 2013).

 For the larger part of the scene, Hiccup is placed behind or over Stoick’s shoulder, with the exception being for the key moments where Stoick turns to look Hiccup in the eyes, looming over him as he argues with his son and when he delivers a crushing line near the end of their encounter. Additionally, while the characters each appear in darkness at points throughout the scene, the effect is wildly different. While the shadows make Stoick even more terrifying, they shrink Hiccup further as he literally ‘stands in his father’s shadow’ (Mok, 2015).

With each sweeping gesture of his arms, teeming with energy and barely contained fury, all of Stoick seems to respond in turn, whether it be his great beard tossing from side to side even after he has paused, or his cloak swaying with each of his thunderous steps. Hiccup in turn greets these movements with equal energy but in the form of flailing arms, hands running through his shaggy mop of hair, and a general air of clumsiness and panic; his hair or clothes never being truly idle (Johnston, 1981).

As the argument increases in both volume and tension, any semblance of restraint goes with it; a fact that is perhaps most evident in the ever-increasing level of anticipation between the characters and their conversation. As Hiccup divulges more and more information in an attempt to dissuade his father on his war path, Stoick’s vocal volume and zeal gradually builds until it suddenly drops to a controlled, sinister whisper at the mention of ‘the dragon’s island’. His surface goal throughout the film brought back to light, Stoick speaks to Hiccup as if nothing more than someone to be interrogated, a double agent who has betrayed him (Coron, 2018 ). With each beat that passes, the moments in between the words: the looks of realisation, of hurt and of defeat become more powerful and more integral to this scene than the speech ever was.

In summary How to Train Your Dragon, with this scene as the subject of analysis, has proven to engage the viewer with it’s three-dimensional animation style and three-dimensional character performance. The character’s fit well into their environment and interact believably with each other- a job well done on behalf of Dreamworks; as you are not for a second drawn out of the captivating story.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             Sources:

 Beskow, C. (2016, January 20). Structure: How to train your dragon. Retrieved from The Story Department: https://thestorydepartment.com/how-to-train-your-dragon-structure/

Coron, T. (2018 , June 27). Understand Disney's 12 principles of animation. Retrieved from creative bloq: https://www.creativebloq.com/advice/understand-the-12-principles-of-animation

IMDB. (n.d.). How to Train Your Dragon (2010) Plot. Retrieved from imdb: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0892769/plotsummary

Johnston, F. T. (1981). Illusion Of Life. Abbeville Press. Retrieved from AIM centre for animation & interactive media: http://minyos.its.rmit.edu.au/aim/a_notes/anim_principles.html

Mok, J. (2015, June 29). Animated interfaces. Retrieved from ADRENALIN: https://www.adrenalinmedia.com.au/blog/june-2015/animated-interfaces

Sultana, N. L. (2013). Exploring Believable Character Animation Based on. Brisbane: Griffith.

[prettyuncool]

The truth I would say on dating apps.

Being an 80′s kid who’s been in a relationship for most of her adult life, I now feel like the mother of Goodbye Lenin who awakens from her coma: no freaking idea how to deal with dating apps. I tried a few and lasted just for half an hour each. I had fun in Alienation Nation, but I probably wouldn’t live there, you know. My pictures suck, everybody’s pictures suck, everyone’s craving for some validation and how the hell do I even know you’re interesting with those few lines of bio available. It feels like the startup Pecha Kucha pitch of your own Flesh & Mind™, just as finely organized as in a supermarket shelf. I confess I also had some troubles finding any relevant shit to write about myself. The last time I’ve inquired about my own identity so thoroughly I was a teen and the last time I thought I’d use my identity for romantic-marketing purposes was actually never.

So I spontaneously thought we might be very close to a world where we should want to directly pursue what we eventually get from online networks, i.e. disconnection. I’ve imagined the non-dating app for happily staying away from each other, where everybody markets their worse flaws in their own bio’s. I wrote mine too. And then realized it was uncool anyway, because I don’t have a spectacular sense of self-unworth the same way I don’t have a neat sense of self-worth. Damn.

So I thought about the pure, raw truth. And ended up writing a shit-ton of stuff. I’ll share it with you below. Now, find me an app where I could honestly say it. And maybe some equally awkward matches, too.

---

I am a wanderer. An astrology nerd. A flea market enthusiast. A gingerbread addict. I am a listener. I own an acoustic guitar which I can't play, but it's nice to have guests who play it sometimes. I love Primitivo wine. Also coffee - but I don't drink it, because it makes me freak out. So let's say I love who loves coffee. Black. No sugar. And craft beers. And dark chocolate. I find this shit so sexy! But it makes me feel sick. So I love it in others. Talking about difficulties we're attracted to, huh? I enjoy moody, underexposed photography. Most kinds of it. I'm too broke to own a proper camera, though. Nevermind. I love weird, indie movies. Bollywood cracks me up. I used to be a decent backpacker. I roamed a lot around Europe. I've been told I have a strong accent from Chicago. That's weird, I've never been there. I find marvels in little things. And in big things, too. I am left-handed. I practice meditation, when I can.

I find sciences and arts equally mesmerizing. I'm a serious meteoropath. I may cry over beautiful things. Like sunrise and kindness. I listen to jazz when I cook. Or Bossa Nova. But I'm a terrible cook. Wild strawberries are my favorite fruit. I never find them around. Normal strawberries make me happy, too. My perfume is Hypnotic Poison by Dior. I never change it. I work in advertising, in the creative department. But I feel guilty about it. I also did cognitive research for a while. Now I may start teaching semiotics of advertising at the University of Italian Switzerland. I find Switzerland majestically boring. But I have sweet memories of it, too. I'm both a cat and a dog type. Yeah, I'm an indecisive person. I often tend to overthink. And also underreact. I used to self-harm. My favorite color is yellow. My least favorite sex positions are cowgirl and reverse cowgirl. I never feel a thing when performing them. But I'm fine with most of the others. Men often tell me I look shy at first, but then I'm surprisingly and overwhelmingly sexy. Dude, I have no idea. I'm sure shy when it comes to singing. So I'm not comfortable at karaoke's. I live in Italy, but I have several dream places: Cape Verde, Morocco, Bali, Pakistan, Canada, Oregon, India, Patagonia. I am slightly obsessed over flower essences. There are so many of them! If I fail at my job, I can become a Reiki practitioner. I could actually already do it. I don't regularly swallow cum. Anal sex is fine, as long as it doesn't last too long. My shortest relationship lasted one month and a half, my longest one lasted 14 years. I am attracted to different types of people, with typically recurring features: resilience, emotional agility, curiosity, general culture, effective problem-solving skills. But I am also attracted to more superficial shit, like beards and travel experience, driving ability, cooking skills, basketball playing skills, good taste in wine and stuff like that. I used to fall for rebels, now I just find them funny. I've had several crushes, but fell in love only twice. Both of them used to smoke the same brand of French cigarettes. Curious coincidence. I find emotionally unavailable people ridiculously unworthy of my attention. I have experienced death, illness and loss of loved ones. So I value people's ability to suffer quite greatly. I've never got pregnant, but I used plan B twice. I'm not on the pill, so wear a fucking condom. Tash Sultana's music makes my soul vibrate wild. Other than that, I'm into intimate acoustic indie pop/folk and various kinds of dreamy tunes, more or less. I have unresolved mother issues. Some unresolved daddy issues, too. Whatever. I'm working on it. I definitely can't draw. And my sense of orientation sucks. I am also generally unimpressed by trends. This makes me feel so old. I am often uncomfortable around kids, but deep inside I love them. I may want to become a mother one day, but now is just not the right time. I'm neither a morning person, nor a night one. Let's just agree I'm fucking lazy. I'm a playful type, who may look codependent in love. But I normally lead a very independent life. I wouldn't call myself jealous, either. Yeah, lucky you.

I have a weird fascination for ex-Soviet republics. I wholeheartedly enjoy sex, but I've also experienced sexual harassment and some abuse. So please, be mindful. I love French, Indian, Japanese, Lebanese and generally Mediterranean cuisines. Saffron is probably my favorite spice. I'm a social drinker. I used to smoke weed, but stayed high for four days in a row every time I tried. That made me feel miserable! But if you smoke, that's fine for me. I am a feminist, but I wish it didn't make sense to be one. My sexual orientation is often under debate. I've never had a doubt I liked men, but I sometimes also had crushes, physical attraction and some intimate experiences with women, too. This doesn't always happen, though, so I honestly don't know if I should label myself as bisexual. Frankly, I don't really care. l'm 5'28" and weight about 106 lbs. I have no STD's, genetic illnesses or physical disabilities. I'm myopic, if that counts. My family has a history of breast and cervix cancer, though, so I should be careful. I was born premature, three months in advance. I love reading as much as I enjoy writing. I used to collect crystals, but then I stopped. They're too expensive and often fake. I'm slightly more extrovert than introvert, at least according to personality tests. That's because I'm curious and inquisitive AF. Other than that, I'm pretty quiet. Also easily overstimulated. I've been raised catholic, but I don't recognize myself as one. I deeply respect spirituality in others, though, and I'm craving a religion that makes sense to me. I believe political orientation is mostly a matter of historical and cultural context, but I may have troubles speaking with you if you support any type of institutionalized human submission over others, in any possible world. I also strongly believe that Truth is never relative, but opinion is. That was unrelated, but I find it super fundamental anyway.

I don't consider myself special. I am a very average person. I find peace on sandy beaches. And I love collecting shells from the shore. It reminds me of my childhood.

[ramle17-18]

9/23

not a bad rest of the week!

tuesday night nurit’s mom and nieces and nephew came over to make shakshuka, and it was DELICIOUS. just tomatoes, tomato paste, garlic, onion, eggs, and some spices. it was spicy but i really enjoyed it, and it’s definitely making me like fantasize about living in my own place and making shakshuka for dinner-  healthy, filling, delicious, etc.

we did some line dancing with the nieces after (they were so cute! and i got to practice my hebrew a bit because they didn’t speak english) and then i taught sultana how to do yoya, then we did zieben zieben which the older niece knew, bc apparently even the dance is from eurovision, which i didn’t know

wednesday morning we went to the bank and got our debit cards - awesome! except there’s no money in our accounts yet lmfao; then around noon david picked me up and brought me to his and rachel’s house to stay for the rest of the week.

wednesday night we went to noam’s house (one of their sons) for erev rosh hashana dinner. they had a cute dog and i was petting him and then he like laid down on my feet and gave me his tummy so i was rubbing his tummy, but then he was growling (which is assumed was a happy growl like riley) and then he tried to bite me lol..so then i was afraid to pet him for the rest of the night

dinner was good, a lot of stuff i didn’t like but i managed to find more than enough to eat. nothing particularly great, though. 

thursday - sat around the house and did nothing all day! i made some tarot cards out of notebook paper and pencil (which i’ve already managed to rip) so i might make some sturdier ones out of construction paper now that i’m home. 

thursday night we went to rachel’s sister’s house for dinner. the family didn’t treat me much differently than noam’s family did, but i liked them better for some reason. same deal with dinner, lots of stuff i don’t eat but i ate plenty, then we went home

friday - david and rachel took me to an idf memorial museum for the armored corps (which is the tanks). super fun! lmfao. i was really uncomfortable the entire time, and didn’t say much, and i think they picked up on that bc i’m fairly certain we ended up leaving earlier than planned. it was. awkward and not great

then we had a quiet dinner, the two of them, me, and gilad, david bbq’d some chicken and steak which was good. 

and then this morning david drove me home.

talia told me last night that when she went home riley got really excited to see her, and then went back to the door to look for me. even just typing it now it’s making me tear up, i really really fucking miss her and it makes me so sad that she misses me too :(

-

also i’ve lost weight since getting here somehow?? i genuinely don’t know how that’s possible, because i could’ve sworn i was eating more than i should be and not exercising nearly enough, but idk i guess i’m eating less than i thought. my blue shorts are getting a bit roomy, the only pair of actual blue jeans i brought were too tight on me before i left and now fit me almost perfectly, and the green little shorts aren’t too far off from fitting - i can button and zip them, they’re just tighter than i feel comfortable wearing in public (camel toe, etc)

i measured my waist with the tape measure i brought and it seems i’ve lost an inch or so. and then i weighed myself a million times at the garber’s, and adding an extra pound or so to be safe i’m about 147-148 pounds now. i was 155 on august 28th. i know i’d gotten down to 151.1 at one point, but the last entry i had in libra was that one, which makes sense because i was awful awful the week or two before i left. 

but yeah i officially reached (surpassed!) my goal of 150lbs which is the initial one i’d put into the fitbit app (hoping to have reached it before i left but whatever), so i have it set to 120 now as another short-term measure, which is pretty much exactly the amount of weight my first goal was, so i just need to do that again. seeing the scale on the app start at 148 and end at 120 instead of 177.5-150 is SO rewarding..even though i don’t see it in the mirror and hardly see it in any comparison pictures.

but i know it’s not the scale because like i said, my clothes are all fitting me differently now. so since i was able to do the first 30ish pounds in about 3.5 months, i’m gonna see if i can get down at least another maybe..20ish? before the end of the year. so if that happens i’ll be like 130ish when mom and talia come to visit, which will be cool because 129 is my lowest. 

i might invest in a bathroom scale at some point soon because it’s going to be difficult to stay motivated when i can’t weight myself regularly. although it’s been working for me for the 3 weeks i’ve been here already, so who knows. plus i saw on r/loseit this morning that someone had a bathroom scale that said he was 210, a gym scale that said he was 180, and a doctor’s office scale that said he was 168.5. so that’s terrifying, but also that variance seems really ridiculous to me. even if the doctor’s office scale is always a couple of pounds higher, that’s usually at most. so we’ll see.

otherwise hopefully the gym will have a scale, and hopefully we’ll get our gym memberships soon.

[sultanamalik]

Hey Blogbees,

I won tickets to the @socialcityldn event last weekend ! whoop whoop! Attending this event makes me miss having a networking community like the one in Edinburgh @edinburghblogg

Where is the bloggers from Luton/ Bedfordshire at :( ?

I love visiting London! (I’m sure anyone would if you live in this small town called Luton lol) there is always stuff to do and see in London, and the buildings are so grand, the parks look beautiful! For bloggers its perfect! blog content always available!

The regents park area in London is stunning! Wish I had time to sight-see a little more :(

As mentioned on yesterdays post (Link here) I learnt so much about the blogging scene, growing followers and even maintaining followers. I have 9k followers on instagram and I’m struggling to understand what my following like me to post about? Hence why I find instaLive awkward cause I don’t know if its beauty and fashion viewers, wedding related or want to see my busy lifestyle?

Some tips I learnt from the event

Focus on one particular subject to start your blog up ie Keep it only beauty, or lifestyle, fashion

Post at least 2 Instagram posts a day

Comment and engage with other bloggers / social media influences

Don’t start blogging ’cause you want to get paid’ only way to keep motivated is by blogging for you as a passion and not ‘job’

Don’t compete with other bloggers, encourage collaborations. Every blogger may have similar styles but never the same personality so empower each other

Have fun and express individuality

I will definitely keep my eye out for more events/networking opportunities out there! Thank you @Sara.zara ! Really needed a networking event like this to kick me back into ‘blogger shape’.

Lovely speaking to Donina Ciobanu @Donia, and listening to the lovely social influencers such as @emmamilleruk @TeralAtilan @Joshuaoliverstyle @rosalindshimmen from @Rshimmencomms @lush_leah.x @nikimahon ! Great bumping into Suhana from @LondonBengaliweddingfair

Dream to Inspire <3

Sultana <3

#100daysofascottishasianbride

#socialcityldn #edinburghbloggers

Outfit Details

Top: Off shoulder H&M

Jeans: Asos

Sleeveless jacket: Newlook

Chokers: River Island

Heels: New Look

Rucksack: accessorize

  #SocialCityLND 2017 Hey Blogbees, I won tickets to the @socialcityldn event last weekend ! whoop whoop! Attending this event makes me miss having a networking community like the one in Edinburgh…

[awkward-sultana]

Fans are going to see a huge difference in how Alicent treated Dyana versus how Rhaenyra will treat Nettles.