#MAIDENS AND KINGDOMS ( hc. )

[etruatcaelum]

On Ozlem.

This will be less a singular headcanon than a collection; my reading of the relationship is particular and on several key points, well off the beaten track from popular fanon. I thought it would be helpful to put it all in one place for ease of reference.

Salem’s Childhood.

Salem was the second-born child of a minor lord, born into the eighth generation of mankind since the creation of the world Arziant, in a kingdom called Pastoria. Her mother Salome had been the king’s only child, but not heir to the realm; Pastorian law and custom forbade women to leave their divine appointment within the home. In practice, a woman belonged to her father until she was given to her husband.

In that time, monolatrous worship of the God of Light was nigh-ubiquitous, and tradition held that no one who lived a virtuous life would die before their hundredth year, unless slain in battle or by some violent calamity brought about by the Darkness. To fall ill was proof in itself that one had committed some offense in the eyes of God. This was not mere superstition, for although natural sickness did exist, the God of Light gave healing to those he judged pure and inflicted disease as a punishment for sin.

Death in childbirth, although not (as Salem believes, even now) wholly unknown, was quite rare and supposed to be a punishment reserved only for the truly wicked. Both of Salem’s parents were well-known for their piety, and her father Lord Ithai was scrupulously devout; for his wife to sicken and die in the course of bearing their second child was shocking, not only to Ithai himself but to all of Pastoria. While he would have held the tragedy against her in any circumstance, his personal inclination to do so fed eagerly upon advice from religious advisors who, to preserve Salome’s good name in the eyes of the people, blamed her infant child. There had been, after all, prophecies foretelling the virtue and great deeds of heroes in the past; why not portents of a dire evil?

(In truth, Salome had made an error in a ritual entreating the God of Light to grant his blessings to her unborn child, and he intended to make an example of her carelessness.)

The modern fairytale The Girl in the Tower portrays the girl’s father as a paranoid, possessive tyrant who loves the girl as a miser loves his treasures, who becomes angry and violent when she asks to be set free; this characterization, though not an inaccurate portrait of Lord Ithai himself, elides the misogynistic norms and popular religious justification for Salem’s imprisonment. Simply put, she had no hope of rescue because most of Pastoria truly believed that she was an ill-omened child who needed to be locked away for the good of all.

Salem did not grow up in complete isolation, though she was alone far more often than not: she was raised by an ever-changing parade of servants, priests, and tutors. Her father visited her on occasion; her elder brother Kalev snuck in to see her with greater frequency.

The first twenty-one years of her life, she spent in locked in a single room—little more than a cell, ten paces wide and nine across—at the top of her father’s keep. Her singular window overlooked the block where Ithai executed those whom he suspected of treating her with undue kindness; from the time she was old enough to understand, Salem was made to watch these executions (and in time it became a compulsion to do so, one that still lingers; to this day Salem keeps obsessive count of the deaths she considers to be her fault).

She was nearly always hungry. Of the one hundred forty-three people Ithai executed, in those twenty-one years, most were kitchen servants condemned on suspicion of bringing her too much food, or for lingering to speak with her while she ate; to bring the lord’s daughter a meal, it was well known among the kitchen staff, was to risk one’s life. Quite often, she went without food altogether, and seldom received more than one meal in a day. Salem grew up both hoarding food and feeling intense guilt around eating.

Ithai was, on the rare occasion of his visits, extremely abusive; Salem was so terrified of him that even now she feels on edge around men who remind her of him. (He was quite tall, broad-shouldered, with a full beard; his hair sandy-brown in his youth, half-grey by the time of Salem’s birth; a deep baritone.) She cannot handle being yelled at without shutting down. Her instinctive reaction to violence against herself—to simply take it, quietly, without resistance, and wait for it to be over—is a response she learned in childhood, and unless she is already quite angry, it’s one she finds difficult to overcome.

Escaping the Tower.

In the fairytale, at the age of sixteen, the girl asks her father for paper and pen. She uses these to write pleas for rescue, promising to marry anyone who can save her from her father, and throws them to the wind. Innumerable would-be saviors flock to answer, only to be slain by her father while the girl looks on in horror, until one day a true hero defeats her father in a duel and frees her at last.

This is not quite how it happened.

When Salem was sixteen, and Kalev eighteen, she put to her brother that he should find someone to marry her. She was reaching the proper age (indeed, their mother had been only a year older when the king married her to Ithai), and she could think of no other means to escape than by marriage, though the prospect filled her with dread. Kalev undertook this effort very reluctantly, fearing that anyone willing to marry a girl who’d spent her whole life locked away would undoubtedly be at least as awful as their father; but he did try, without success, for several years.

He was twenty-one, Salem nineteen, when he met Ozma: not an aristocrat but the wandering knight of a holy order who chanced to be nearby when Kalev’s retinue was set upon by the largest wyvern any of them had ever seen. Ozma leapt to Kalev’s aid and slew the grimm, and would have died of the injuries they sustained in doing so had Kalev been less skilled in healing. They talked, afterward, finding they had much in common; and before long, the conversation turned to the plight of Kalev’s sister.

Ozma had no interest in marriage—had sworn vows of chastity, in fact—but Kalev’s account of Salem’s treatment horrified them. They had heard tell of the ill-omened girl held safe within the lord’s keep, of course, but the rumors had given them the impression that she was sickly, too frail to leave her bed. Upon learning the truth, they became determined to help her. Together, the pair hatched a new plan: Ozma would pledge themself as Kalev’s vassal, ingratiate themself to Lord Ithai, and find some opportunity to free Salem in secret.

Two more years would pass before Ozma found their opportunity, for the magic Ithai had woven around her cell would not allow her to cross the threshold, even were the door torn from its hinges. During this time, Ozma stole up the tower whenever they could to visit Salem; they didn’t dare enter the room, for fear of being ensnared by the wards, but they could speak to her through the door.

Without fail, Salem would beg them not to come back; desperate though she was for escape, she did not believe this plan had any chance of working, and lived in terror of Ozma being found out and executed. Ozma, for their part, stayed resolute in their conviction that freeing her was a worthy cause to die for, which had—for as long as they could remember—been the only thing they really wanted.

In the end, what happened is this:

Lord Ithai came to Salem’s cell late one evening, on the same night Ozma risked ascending the tower to talk to her; and though they realized the danger halfway up the stairs, hearing echoes of her father’s tirade, before they turned back as they’d promised her to do if this should ever happen, they heard the unmistakable sound of a blow, a choked cry of pain, and could not find it in themself to leave.

Up they charged. Ithai had his back turned to the door, his hands around Salem’s neck, and Ozma gathered all the magic they knew to strike at him from behind; but Ithai was an experienced combatant. Though wounded, he was not bested, and he whirled around in a murderous fury to retaliate. The duel was swift and brutally decisive—within moments, Ithai shattered Ozma’s defenses and had them on disarmed on the floor.

Salem had collapsed when Ithai dropped her and remained cowering against the wall while the brief battle raged; but when her father raised his hand to strike Ozma dead, with the door open and someone who had been kind to her about to die because of her like so many others, she snapped. Her magic, never trained, and never very strong, exploded outward as she threw herself across the room.

She drove her hand into Ithai’s body as if his flesh were water and ripped his pulverized heart right out of his chest.

That was not what she meant to do, exactly. She had wanted only to make him stop, and twenty-one years of desperate fear crashed together in that moment to become a wild, boundless rage; but no sooner had his body crumpled than reality caught up with her, and then she was only a girl clutching the gory shreds of another person’s insides in her hands, whereupon she became hysterical.

Salem does not, whatsoever, remember leaving the tower, nor anything else until dawn, when she regained her senses to find Ozma coaxing her to let them clean the blood off her hands. But after realizing what had happened, Ozma scrambled up, pried the gore out of her hands, swept a few valuable-looking trinkets into a satchel—they’d wanted her to have something to her name—thrown their cloak around her shoulders, and raced the both of them out of the keep at speed.

The image Jinn presents when Ruby asks her what Ozpin is hiding, of Salem and Ozma fighting their way out together, is a representation of how Ozpin would have told this story: distilled, softened, stripped of personal feeling… but that fight did happen, for the lord’s death and Salem’s passage through his unravelling wards awoke his retinue. Ozma fought; Salem was a storm of uncontrolled violence lashing out in blind panic.

Their First Relationship.

Although Ozma had, over the course of those two years spent whispering through her door, fallen quite hopelessly in love with her, it became clear to them within hours that Salem not feel the same. The satchel of minor valuables they’d hastily gathered for her, she tried to give to them, and their polite refusal to accept caused her to lapse into hollow silence for several minutes before she asked what they wanted from her instead—and only then had they realized how scared she felt that she might be no more to them than a prize.

The first lie Ozma ever told her was that they had never thought of anything but to set right the terrible injustice her father inflicted upon her, and they resolved to take the secret of their infatuation with her to the grave.

Still: she had nowhere else to go, and neither of them dared stay in Pastoria after murdering a nobleman. Ozma offered to take her wherever she liked, and Salem ventured that she had always wanted to see the ocean. In those days, the land formed a single continent, and Pastoria lay nestled at its heart, in the verdant foothills beneath the Light’s sacred mountain.

The long journey would be Ozma’s undoing, for the sea and the edges of the great continent belonged to the God of Darkness, and the vows Ozma had made to Light forbade them to enter Dark’s own country. But they thought nothing of it at the time; their whole life, they had scrupulously abided by the stern, unyielding tenets of their faith while privately yearning for death, only for Salem to ignite within them a ferocious desire to live.

So off they went.

For more than two years, the pair traveled further and further west. Salem grew easier around them, and as her wariness ebbed, true friendship rose to take its place—not the desolate, harrowing need which had bound them both together when they fled, but the simple sense of being kindred spirits. (It was during their travels together that Ozma first decided to worry less over fitting into either manhood or womanhood, and began—just between themself and Salem—to invent an un-gendered mode of address for themself; at the time, the phrase they’re still so fond of repeating in the present, that they are only a man, not even a very good one, was not self-deprecation but a private joke they shared with her at the world’s expense.)

With other people, however, Salem struggled: her speech was stilted and afflicted by a ruinous stutter, she was awkward, she was sometimes volatile and sometimes seemingly void of any emotion at all, she was painfully shy, she could not eat with anyone else looking at her, she sometimes lost the thread of conversations and simply lapsed into silent staring… every invisible scar her childhood left upon her marked her out as strange, as unnatural, perhaps even dangerous.

By the time she and Ozma reached the ocean, Salem felt utterly exhausted and half-certain her brother and Ozma were the only good people in the entire world; she found the desolation of the coast appealed to her, the wild emptiness, the sheer scale of the endless water.

She wanted to stay, and stay they did.

They built a little house upon cliffs overlooking the sea, a day’s walk from the closest village. Planted a garden. Lived. Grimm were far more numerous around the coast than in the heartland, and though the creatures proved to be less trouble than Ozma expected, they still insisted on teaching Salem how to fight, more than the basics she’d picked up along the journey. For a year, all seemed well.

However, though Ozma had long since forgotten their vows, the God of Light did not forgive, and seeing now that his wayward servant had no intention to repent, he at last struck Ozma down.

The sickness killed them slowly; it began with mere fatigue, headaches… mild at first, though they grew ever more severe and lingering until Ozma was left nearly insensate with agony for days at a time. Over the course of nine months, they slid piece by piece into a listless haze of pain and confusion—and though Salem tried everything she could think of to help, even leaving them in village and traveling alone to the nearest city to plead for medical aid or healing from the temple, they died just short of four years after her liberation.

Salem has always, deep down, believed she killed them, somehow.

In all that time, Ozma had never breathed a word to her of how they loved her or the depth of their feeling, still afraid to ask for anything she didn’t want to give; and Salem had only just begun to realize similar feelings for them when they fell ill. The thought that they had died not knowing she loved them was almost as unbearable a torment to her as grief itself.

Salem’s Petitions to the Brothers.

The journey back to the heartland took Salem just seven months. She had pushed herself extraordinarily hard to traverse such a vast distance in so little time, scarcely sleeping or eating and using magic to whip herself onward past the brink of collapse; she was deeply unwell, and her thin hope that the God of Light might take pity was all that kept her standing.

She had always been fervently religious, in her way, although her imprisonment and the abuse she’d suffered and the estrangement she felt from the rest of mankind after her escape had all left her with idiosyncratic, at times nakedly heretical ideas about the Brothers. (For one, Salem had spent most of her life praying to the God of Darkness too, because it never made sense to her that only one of mankind’s creators should be worshipped; she believed, and still believes even today, that it was Darkness who freed her from the paralyzing terror on the night she killed her father.)

Salem had no intention of marching into the sacred domain of the Light to demand anything, nor did she truly expect him to give her what she asked; but she did feel certain there had been some mistake, because good people were not supposed to sicken and die, and she did believe, with all her heart, that the God of Light was just and kind.

When she climbed the marble steps, she imagined that she would kneel before the pool to pray, and perhaps the Light would offer her some sign of comfort, of sorrow, of understanding. For him to appear in front of her himself before she could even utter a word shocked her, and ignited a wild hope that he might actually grant her a miracle—hopes that he shattered by instead chiding her for making demands of him.

That was the first fracture in Salem’s faith. Light sent her out of his realm and left her reeling: he had not been kind. Why reveal himself to her at all, just to rebuke her prayers? It seemed—unfair, even cruel.

Of course she turned to the God of Darkness, then. If even the gods were cruel, Salem did not care to live in the world, and she had worshipped Darkness from afar all her life. Why not seek out kindness from him, or else find merciful death in the jaws of his monsters?

Perhaps, she thought, he was lonely too.

Finding his realm took some doing, for no one in living memory had dared go looking for it; in the end, Salem resorted to following the grimm until one led her to the proper place. By then she had lost all sense of time, exhausted and sick and starving as she was, but it was almost exactly a year since Ozma’s death when she stumbled wearily up the granite steps to visit the God of Darkness.

Though Ozma believes that she asked Darkness to bring them back to life, and lied to him about having gone first to his brother, this is not so. (Salem told them the truth, eons later, as well as she could: but by then she had been so long alone, and the events that had led to mankind’s destruction were so distant, that her account had been meandering and confused, difficult to follow. The answer Jinn gives Ruby is not absolute truth, only exactly what Ozpin believed to be true and chose to hide, and contains a great deal of guesswork on Ozma’s part, to make sense of it all.)

What she did do is tell Darkness of all her sorrow, vowing to revere him above his brother for the rest of her life if he ended her pain. Salem half-hoped he would unite her with Ozma in death—it seemed a fitting mercy, from the god of destruction—and half-feared he would answer by unburdening her of the capacity to feel at all. Until he did so, it never occurred to her to imagine that Darkness would grant her the favor his brother had coldly forbidden her to even want.

But he did, and during that brief moment before the God of Light appeared in all his icy wrath, Salem had every intention to uphold her end of the bargain. Light had treated her with cold disdain, but in Darkness she had found the kindness she had been taught to expect from his supposedly benevolent brother; she would never again worship the God of Light, and had Light not interfered then, she would have become a devoted, unendingly faithful disciple to the God of Darkness.

Instead, the Brothers twice incinerated Ozma in her arms and drowned her in the fountain of life to consign her to a deathless eternity alone, and that was the second fracture in her faith.

Her Rebellion.

When the Brothers cast her out of Light’s realm, they sent her home: to the cliffside by the sea where she and Ozma had lived.

The very first thing Salem did was hurl herself into the sea.

How long she spent drowning and drowning and unable to die beneath the waves, Salem did not know; by the time a (distraught) fisherman discovered her undying but horrifically broken body in his net, the little house on the cliff had fallen into ruin, and the village she remembered had grown into a large and prosperous town.

The fountain of life had poured into her soul—which left the physical pool in the Light’s domain a mere puddle of water with no magical properties at all—and remade her into the very wellspring of creation itself; the life-force humans would, much later, come to know as aura. No matter the severity of her injuries, she could not die, but healing serious injuries with aura requires training, focus.

Salem had healed imperfectly: the bones she had shattered when she plunged into the sea knitting back together at strange angles, her body bent and distorted by the uncontrolled and unchecked growth of masses that would have killed anyone mortal, her chest distended with seawater. She could barely move, let alone speak, and it was only good fortune that the fisherman who had found her overcame his panic before casting her overboard again.

He brought her to Light’s temple, in the town that had once been a village. The priests there were baffled, but they could see that she was in terrible pain, and they did what they could to help her. Mostly, this was miserable: a matter of breaking bones and carving out tumors, little by little pulling her body back into human shape.

She did not make it easy for them. The ruin of her physical body had not diminished her magical power, and as soon as Salem understood where she was she began to lash out, wanting nothing to do with the gods who had done this to her. Still, the priests felt sorry for her—and assumed that her violent reactions were motivated by pain, rather than hatred of the god they served—so they persisted.

Then the ones who had taken charge of her care began to sicken, and Salem realized two things: first, that they were not caring for her under Light’s auspices; and second, that he accounted the kindness they were trying to give her a sin deserving of punishment.

That was the third, and final, fracture in her faith. She stopped fighting her caretakers and bent every effort toward healing herself and trying to heal them; in this, she failed, and watched those who had aided her die one by one even as she was restored to perfect health.

She was outraged.

Yes, she had prayed for things she was not meant to have, and yes, she had sown discord between the Brothers by mistake, and yes, she had railed against them and called them monsters when they ripped her love away from her again. Perhaps that did make her selfish, arrogant, deserving of the torment they inflicted upon her—but these people had done nothing to deserve death.

It was an injustice.

It was worse than cruel; it was wrong.

Salem returned to Pastoria brimming with righteous fury. There, to her surprise, she found Kalev—an old man now, though she still looked not a day older than twenty-five.

The reunion was strange and bittersweet. Kalev had spent most of his life wondering what happened to her, praying to God to keep her safe and happy, and to learn that the Brothers had treated her with such brutality devastated him. From his devastation and her rage, the first spark of rebellion was struck.

When Salem set out to galvanize others to their cause, she told the truth: of the injustices and cruelty she had seen; of how the Brothers had made her immortal by throwing her into the fountain of life, and so revoked the promise of healing for the pure from the rest of the world; of the division she had seen between Light and Darkness; of her vision of a new world freed from the chains of their creators. The gory spectacle of her immortality and the fervent truth of her convictions overcame every obstacle that had always set her apart from the rest of her kind.

Though it was Salem who lit the match, the firestorm she unleashed surpassed her expectations, and when the rebellion stormed the marble steps to Light’s domain, the movement had long since grown beyond her, grown bigger than the faint hope she clung to that she might find a way to die after the Brothers were gone.

(She wouldn’t recognize it until eons later, but she had already begun, even then, to resign herself to the possibility of living forever.)

The Moonfall and the Making of Remnant.

See this post.

Upon climbing back out of the pool of grimm, Salem found that it, just as the fountain of life had done, had poured itself into her soul. The vast and infinite well over which Darkness once presided had diminished to mere scattered ponds of atrum, still capable of birthing grimm if given a spark of life yet no longer alive as the dark lake had been; and she felt that vast and infinite power churning within herself now, mixing together with the molten radiance of the fountain. She began to have an inkling, then, of what she had done.

Eons ago, the Brothers created mankind by the admixture of their two natures—so went the old stories—creation and destruction bound together in one. Salem had thought to do the same, when she bore the light into the pool, but instead… some intangible barrier had shattered, she thought, had fallen into dust and less than dust. The waters mingled: and here is fire.

She wandered away from the Dark’s onetime domain in a daze, unsure of what she would find in this new world but excited to meet it, and what she found was the first and second of Remnant’s peoples: the fauni, who were no more human than she, and the grimm, as fierce and wild as she remembered.

Humans would come later. Salem has… complicated feelings about mankind, these days, a mixture of admiration for their virtues—their strength, their wisdom, their resourcefulness, their passion, their ingenuity, their hope—and profound wariness. She has not thought of herself as human since that half-century beneath the waves, and even less since her transformation in the dark lake; she is grimm, she is the one called God of Animals, the fauni are her people, and she does not much care for the way humans treat those who are different from themselves.

The First Reunion.

Ozma knew nothing of this, when the God of Light sent them back into life. They knew only what Light told them: that Darkness had destroyed mankind for an offense he implied had something to do with Salem, that humanity would rise anew in desperate need of redemption lest they be condemned to obliteration, and that though Salem yet lived, she was no longer the woman they held dear.

When they agreed to return, Ozma did not give a damn about any of this. Salem lived. No matter how she’d changed, they felt certain beyond any doubt that they would love her still, and when the words I’ll do it left their mouth, they had every intention of finding her at once.

But nothing could have prepared them to wrench awake behind a stranger’s eyes, nor for the overwhelming flood of another’s mind shattering and bleeding into their own. Nothing could have prepared them to feel the like-minded soul die so that they could live.

Nothing prepared them for the horrors of this new world, where humans bereft of magic cowered in the shadows like rats among grimm who now seemed all but unstoppable. Nor could they fathom the scale of suffering they saw everywhere they went: the senseless ravages of disease, the brutal and desperate wars over resources that had once been abundant, the seemingly endless panoply of false gods and false creeds which served as pretext for yet more war, the almost-human creatures called faunus who—they were told—lived bestial lives in the wilderness, whom the grimm did not hunt because they had no souls, who hated humanity just as fiercely as did the grimm… who served and worshipped the malignant Witch of the Wastes.

She had to be Salem. Ozma knew it from the moment they heard the first whisper of that name, for who else in this damned and desolate world could wield power of that kind?

Fear crept over them. Doubt. They remembered what she had done to her father, the spectacular violence in her fear; Ozma had never been blind to Salem’s wrath. What had happened to her, after they died? What had she done? What if—in the end it was this thought that overcame the rest of Ozma’s worries and brought them to her doorstep, heart in their mouth—what if the God of Darkness had laid a curse upon her?

(Might she still be saved, even now?)

Some of those fears melted away when Salem opened her door and Ozma looked into her eyes at long last: they knew at once that she was still herself, and for a while that was all that mattered.

For her part, Salem had long since made peace with never seeing Ozma again; she held on to a faint hope that their soul might be reborn, now that the gates of death had cracked, but she knew—thought she knew—that they would never return as themself, and she might never find their soul again. Her grief had become a deep ache, never quite fading but possible to live with, around, through. What else was there for her to do but keep living?

(Sometimes—now and then, when the anguish rose to the surface again—her mind did conjure echoes of them. She had spent countless nights of her interminable isolation huddling miserably in their arms, half-dreaming and half-believing they were really there. It comforted her sometimes to pretend not to know these were only hallucinations; she liked to imagine their spirit lingering with her, reaching out to soothe her when she could bear the pain no longer. But even that had not happened in a very long time, when Ozma found her.)

The first thought to arise from the searing, wordless shock of finding them before her once again was wonder at the recognition aglow in their eyes, the smile dawning upon their face as if no time had passed at all; the second, an overwhelming terror that this wasn’t real.

Both were cautious, in the beginning. Salem felt acutely aware of how much she had changed, how foolish it would be to expect everything to go back to the way it was in that little house by the sea; Ozma’s fear that she had been cursed by Darkness seemed all but confirmed by her grimm appearance and the bizarre, erratic tale she told of defying the Brothers and plunging into the divine wellsprings. She could do magic no longer, for the Brothers had torn their gifts from her soul, and the wild power she held now was unlike anything Ozma had seen.

Yet… even so.

Every troubling tale they’d heard of the Witch proved to have a reasonable explanation. Of course the fauni had souls (and Ozma has never quite lost their mortification for believing otherwise), and Salem’s careful observations of the grimm led her to believe they were drawn to powerful negative emotion: hatred, anger, misery, envy, fear, all feelings roused by the rampant persecution of faunuskind at human hands. She offered protection to those fauni who sought her out, and sometimes stole into settlements late at night to set captive fauni free. In the village nestled along the edge of her woods, she was well-regarded—if still a little feared, for she seldom left the woods unless someone came to ask for her help.

Those first few weeks together in her cottage were peculiar, thick with dread and uncertainty and the awkward feeling of the eons now lying between them; there had been missteps and hurtful misunderstandings aplenty, while they learnt each other again.

She was different: she had acquired a sardonic sense of humor which delighted them, an astounding depth of knowledge on the natural forces of the world, an alarming farrago of new gods, a vicious temper that often saw her storming out of their cottage to (she admitted to them once, rather sheepishly, when they asked) lurk at the bottom of a lake for hours to calm herself…

But though they looked, Ozma could find nothing in her to fear; she was still kind, still inquisitive, still terribly shy, still—true enough that Salem was no longer the awkward, volatile, passionate girl they’d held so dear, but that girl wasn’t gone. She had only grown into herself, and each day they loved her more.

Ozma didn’t exactly intend to lie to her.

For those first few weeks, they kept what the God of Light had told them to themself, wanting to hear Salem’s side of the story before they made any judgments; and as weeks turned to months, Ozma concluded that, cursed by the Brothers though she was, nothing was wrong with Salem, and they resolved to forget their task as they had once forgotten their vows to be with her.

They found that they could not. Even as the love they shared with Salem, never quite fully realized in their previous life, put down roots and blossomed in this one, the suffering they had seen—the promise of obliteration—the twisted, still-bleeding shrapnel of the boy they had overtaken—all of it still lurked in the back of their mind, impossible to forget and growing ever harder to ignore.

In the present, when Ruby asked Jinn her question, Ozpin did almost believe that Salem had lied to Ozma, used them, led them blind and infatuated to their ruin: but that is only the lie Ozma has clung to for centuries.

The truth, far more painful, is that Salem trusted them. In spite of everything she had suffered, despite her terror of rejection, of losing them again; despite the fact that they answered her eager questions about how they’d found their way back with naught but vague nothings, Salem chose to give them her trust and her love and her unwavering faith; and so, when they cautiously ventured to lament the division they saw tearing Remnant apart, she had looked at them with hope shining in her eyes and promised to help them heal the world of its wounds.

To create a paradise—without the Brothers.

Ozma should have told her then. In that moment, they had known she would never break from her hatred of the gods who had slain the last world and tortured her for so long, would never submit to them again, and that had been the right time to tell her.

But they’d looked into her eyes, and imagined that boundless admiration curdling in betrayal and disgust, and instead they had leaned closer to kiss her and said, let’s do it.

Lux Aeterna.

Every lie that followed came easier than the last. Salem balked at too grand ambitions, and it often seemed to Ozma that she would have preferred to stay in that cottage with them forever—it was plain to see she did not much like standing before crowds, let alone leading a country, for all that she could be a dazzling orator when she had time to prepare—but they found they could persuade her to agree to almost any course of action so long as they gave it to her piecemeal.

(There were some lines she would not cross: Salem flatly refused to even consider imposing prison sentences, no matter the crime, and she afforded no patience to those humans who protested bitterly at being treated as equals to faunuskind under Aeternian law. But Ozma considered that she was often on the right side of these lines, and did not trouble themself much over her stubbornness.)

The girls were a surprise bordering on miraculous. Salem and Ozma had talked about wanting to have children, raise a family, but neither believed Salem could bear her own. (Ozma could not help but see it as a good omen, a sign that they were on the right path, and all the more so each time their daughters came out human.) Mara, the eldest; the twins, Dana and Lital; and Esther, the baby.

For a time, all seemed well. Lux Aeterna soared to prominence in the region: a small but prosperous city-state ruled by fair-minded, if frightfully powerful, rulers, a place where all were welcome regardless of appearance or culture or creed.

The troubles started small.

Ozma, plagued by terrible nightmares of the final judgment and knowing that this harmonious medley of differences was not what the God of Light truly meant by unity, grew ever more nervous about their utter failure to nudge Salem toward adopting a unified state religion.

Many of their people did worship Salem and Ozma, of course, just as planned. However…

Salem had been the one who put forward the idea of claiming divinity, but it quickly became apparent that Salem meant something quite different than what Ozma had thought: they’d envisioned a stepping stone toward acting as heralds for the true God, condemning the worship of false idols. But to her, becoming gods meant little more than fulfilling a certain societal role, one which overcame every difficulty she found in connecting with other people by simply asking them to accept her as an inhuman being who acted in accordance with inhuman rules. She cared not at all for the trappings nor the power of godhood; she just liked the rules, the contractual nature of relationships built on ritual and reciprocal favors.

Thus the worship of other gods did not trouble her whatsoever; Ozma could not even persuade her to stop adopting more of the gods invented by Remnant’s people, let alone to condemn the worship of false idols. Nor could they explain why it troubled them so without revealing their deception, and so they fretted, and their occasional arguments on the subject never came to any satisfying conclusions.

Then came the intractable problem of what Salem looked like, and the stories told about her across the region.

Grimm did not trouble Lux Aeterna, but they did prey upon her neighbors—many of them ancient human city-states wherein fauni were still enslaved and viewed with deep suspicion; many of them envious and resentful of the way Lux Aeterna flourished. Rumors began to spread of dark rituals performed by the Grimm Queen in the wilderness at night; baseless accusations of human sacrifice, of secret cannibalism, of Aeternians driving grimm into other kingdoms in order to steal more land, and similar fare.

Ozma tried desperately to lower tensions through diplomatic appeasement, ignoring Salem’s blunt insistence that it wouldn’t work. (She had seen this play out many times, in many places, and her cynicism with regard to mankind’s fear of the unknown is boundless.)

It did not work.

Rumors became threats, threats turned to actual incursions against Lux Aeterna’s borders—and one gory assassination attempt against Salem herself, which shook Ozma very badly—and when a vigorous, decisive defense of the borders failed to put an end to all the saber-rattling, Lux Aeterna took the offensive.

With the onset of war, Ozma discovered a new side of Salem that they had never yet seen: she had a strategic brilliance that spoke to deep experience, and she was utterly, dispassionately ruthless. In swift succession, one after the next, each hostile city-state crumbled and bent the knee beneath the Aeternian banner.

Salem approached this conquest with an attitude of grim necessity: there could be no peace with these wolves snarling at the door, and so the wolves must be broken and brought to heel. To Ozma, the merciless expansion of their borders felt by turns intoxicating—for how simple it was after all, to bring people together by the sword—and horrifying.

The Shattering.

One of the many things Ozma reflected upon, during their protracted withdrawal after Jinn caused them to relive all this, is whether Salem had begun to suspect the truth, near the end. Throughout the last few of the thirteen years they shared, she developed a habit of making disquietingly blunt remarks about what they were doing; about the necessity of conquest, if Ozma truly wished to unite the world behind their banner.

Salem did not have any idea what Ozma was hiding from her, but she did know that there was something they would not tell her; and as the war raged on, she grew ever more impatient with Ozma’s—as she saw it—willful blindness to the cost of their grand ambition. To bring freedom and peace to a small portion of the world, that could be done with ease: one needed only to give people something true, a common cause to strive for, and then shepherd it from one generation to the next. Lasting change did not dawn quickly.

(They were still, she often reminded herself, so young. She had been impatient once, too.)

Lux Aeterna had always seemed to her far more precarious than Ozma believed, an idealistic, fragile experiment surrounded on all sides by adversaries who would like nothing better than to tear it to shreds; years before the possibility of war even crossed Ozma’s mind, Salem had deemed it inevitable and made quiet preparations to insure that the outcome fell in their favor. (Her web of spies was vast, intricate, and wholly invisible to Ozma.)

One thing to prepare for war; another to wage it and hear her partner speak dreamily of bringing the whole world together and in the same breath recoil from the bloodshed.

It vexed her that they couldn’t seem to grasp that one implied the other. More than that, it crushed her to think that they were not satisfied with the life they had built with her, even more than it hurt when she realized they wanted more than a simple life together in her cottage. Salem had grown to like Lux Aeterna, despite her misgivings. She cared for its people; she loved her own daughters to bits; she loved Ozma. She was not… exactly… unhappy.

But she was not exactly happy, either. She felt inadequate, and taken for granted, and with ever-growing frequency in those last few years, like everything she did was wrong somehow. Whatever Ozma refused to tell her was plainly tearing them apart, and they seemed to always be further out of reach.

By the end, Salem had begun to question whether they even loved her anymore, or if all that really bound them together was inertia, or tired habit, or some misguided sense of obligation to her and their daughters.

The truth was worse, and far more horrible than Salem could ever have guessed: that the Brothers she’d thought long gone were trying to claw their way back was awful enough, that they wanted to butcher this world too a nightmare almost beyond comprehension, but the depth of Ozma’s betrayal in serving those monsters for all this time, in manipulating her into enacting their design, was beyond her ability to fathom. She could not understand it. (She still cannot understand it.)

There is a very old story faunuskind used to tell about where they came from, called The Shallow Sea: in it, the God of Animals gathers all the unhappy misfits and outcasts of the world and brings them to a certain island—a harsh new world where they can make their own home, if they choose. All they need to do is leap into the magical waters of the sea and swim ashore, shedding their old human skins to become something new.

Most choose to embrace the change, the chance for freedom given to them; but a small handful refuse, spitting accusations at the god and their chosen people, so the god sends them back home to their old lives, and for the rest of time, the ones who refused to change and all their descendants hate and fear the fauni, for reminding them of what they are not and never can be.

This is the myth Salem quoted to Ozma when she refused to go along with the divine plan for Remnant’s future, and this is what she meant: that the Brothers are of a kind with the resentful humans in the story, seething impotently that the world has outgrown them, and they deserve nothing but scorn; that humanity cannot be saved because there is nothing to redeem, and the only course is to press onward; that the world will never again be what it was.

Both she and Ozma understood her meaning perfectly. (No one else who witnessed Jinn’s answer did, a fact Ozma has not actually realized yet. When they tell Hazel that Salem is cursed to live for as long as the world turns and that she craves only death, they are—as they so often do—lying through their teeth.)

Salem does not remember anymore what she said, exactly, for she’s torn and twisted the memory so badly in desperation to make sense of it that the only thing she remembers is the emotion, and the way Ozma glared at her before they stormed out of the study.

Nearly four hours elapsed between that moment and Salem catching Ozma leaving with the girls. Most of that time, Ozma spent at war with themself, torn between their desperation to stay with Salem and their terror of what punishment the Light would inflict upon her, upon their daughters, upon the whole world if Ozma defied him. Salem, meanwhile, was sitting where Ozma had left her in a state of abject shock and horror.

Both were so on edge by the time they came face-to-face in the corridor that they broke at almost exactly the same time, and both remember seeing the other move to attack first. (In The Lost Fable, there is a very brief shot in which Ozma tightens their grip on their staff—bracing themself—and then Salem visibly startles at that movement the instant before she snaps.) Both were caught up in an overwhelming tide of desperate fury and years of pent-up resentment and distrust that had long since eroded the foundation of their relationship, and both were one hundred percent focused on trying to kill the other.

Neither of them knows exactly what happened to their daughters.

& The Rest.

Since that night, Salem and Ozma have seen each other only twice—in the apocalyptic final battle for Ruakh, and in Atlas when she captured Oscar.

Salem has largely done her best to avoid them, not caring what they did so long as she knew they didn’t have all four relics. She never wanted to see them again, after Ruakh. Ozma, meanwhile, has never stopped hating themself for sacrificing her for the sake of the divine plan… but the divine plan is all they have left, and they do not believe she could ever forgive them, so they keep stumbling through the motions of trying. Their paranoia, their tendency to see her in the shadows of every conflict and every grimm, arises from a mixture of intense guilt and twisted longing.

Salem is not aware that they do not have a choice about coming back, and nearly all her hatred in the present is founded upon her belief that they have spent the last three or four thousand years making a deliberate choice to murder an innocent person each time they return, either out of sheer zealotry or an obsessive desire to punish her. The instant she learns this is not so, her rage will rebound tenfold on the God of Light.

The girls did not, in fact, die that night. Ozma’s semblance—once they’re free, once it manifests in its fully-realized form—will reach back four thousand years to the moment the fight began and simply bring them forward. Or it has already done so, depending upon one’s perspective, and they just haven’t arrived at the right moment yet. Either way, to the children it is as if no time passes at all.

(The girls disappear from the scene right before the fight begins, and V9 gave me time travel shenanigans. I am in constant misery. Let me have this.)

[taiyouhimerich]

Odysseus first encounter with his future wife🩷

cr by: taiyouhime

tw: just pretty fluff, and only my hcs of this young sweet tooth nightmare (bcz hes so sweet i cant)

YoungKing!Odysseus who has really hard time after he inherited his throne while being very young and obviously so inexperienced in terms of ruling Ithaca even though his father prepared him for this and Athena was still helping him a lot with some of her advice.

YoungKing!Odysseus who keeps being told by all of the councillor that he has to find a proper girl to marry and the future queen of his to rule, and he’s really nervous about it because he’s told every young king in Greece are wooing Helen of Sparta so he’s now full spread ahead to Tyndareus’ kingdom.

YoungKing!Odysseus who has spent several hours at the most boooooring dinner surrounded by all the kings from all over Greece, and he turns out to be the youngest of them all! Like he’s only seventeen and everyone else are at their early twenties at least! And even though he proves himself as mature enough to participate, as great hunter and as cunning dealer, they still call him small and keep dangling his age in front of him!

YoungKing!Odysseus who stomps over the paths through the garden of Tyndareus’ palace into its depths, fuming about another discussion where his, his great and clever words are followed by complementing his intelligence and then goes some “not so bad for youngster” kind of stuff. King of Sparta is not even looking at him while the discussion is about what should be the way of choosing who gets Helen’s hand in marriage, isn’t he worth enough of at least being spoken to only because of his age? He’s the king, he’s a good athlete, he’s intelligent, he’s mature, he’s not worse than any of the other kings, he’s—!

The soft laughter in a distance interrupts his thoughts.

YoungKing!Odysseus who follows the source of this sound just from… curiosity maybe or wanting to leave this nasty feeling behind. He gets to the edge of the garden, reaching a beautiful olive grove. And he sees her, a girl, a very beautiful girl, with her hair done prettily that have wind playing with her locks, surrounded by a group of maids, considering their simple dresses. And then she looks around and meets his eyes and—

Okay. Maybe he’s not mature. Like not at all, because he can tell his face is blushing and his knees are trembling and he feels so little right now because she waves at him with this pretty smile and his heart is beating harder then after training Athena gives him and, and—

He can’t remember what was in between this and him standing in his room at palace of Sparta. YoungKing!Odysseus feels so stupid and weak while he keeps banging his head against his door because heaven strike him he just ran away! He just saw the prettiest girl in his life smiling at him and it was enough to make him flee like a coward!

He used to make fun of Eurylochus’ feelings for his sister, finding it absolutely silly how a strong, hard, bulky warrior can fall in love with a princess at one sight, but now, now YoungKing!Odysseus is sorry for all those words and wants to take all of them back because otherwise he is now blushing like a maiden caught bathing just over some kind of pretty girl who just hardly looked at him once as well….

YoungKing!Odysseus, who gets to embarrass himself even more when she and her father Icarius are attending the next dinner with other kings almost accidentally, and she recognises him and she waves at him again and he can swear she’s giggling and he just wants to run away again and—

But then she leans to Tyndareus to kiss his cheek and says goodbye to her dear uncle, and this is how it hits YoungKing!Odysseus. That she’s a princess and she’s suitable for the councillors of Ithaca to accept her as their future queen and most of all.

He now knows he wants to marry only her.

i gonna make several parts of this im still giggling hehehhee

[withered--s0uls]

Ik this is a joke lol so don't take me fully seriously either

What if reincarnation? Like its Ullas soul or part of it, but Ruddiger doesn't necessarily have any of her memories, just has some really strong urge to be near Varian he can't quite understand himself. Some sense of comfort and care.

In the initial concept of vat7k, Ulla was essentially (un)dead and trapped in the library unable to pass onto the afterlife (unaware she cant go back, hence the posessing Varian thing when she found out). So what if she had tried so hard over the years to get back to the regular world but failed. The library has so many books with knowledge both science and magic, she could have found something she thought might work, didn't read the fine print bc she was in a state of panic, and it resulted in a patt of herself being reincarnated as Ruddiger.

She herself thinks the spell failed, the only side effect she really experiences is Ruddigers emotions affecting hers, so she can sense something is wrong during Vars villain arc and whenever hes in danger. But she doesn't know why she feels uneasy at those times.

Unrelated fun fact but Ruddigers eye color matches Varians hair stripe. Do with that information as you wish

Crack theory: Ruddiger The Raccoon IS Varian’s mom

I’m rewatching all episodes with him involved with this in mind

I’ll get back to y’all later

[star-rinalina]

I love your blue raspberry cookie (maiden disguise shadow milk cookie) au idea!

I know their will probably be a fair bit of story and bonding before it gets anywhere near this point in the story but I am especially curious to see what White Lily’s reaction will be when she meets back up with here friend/maybe crush. And finds this random girl just clinging to him.

If you have different plans for the story don’t let my ask change you mind. I am honestly just curious where you will take the story from here!

White Lily's still with them! I didn't plan to turn this into a total au at first, but now I have the thing planned out. Basically Apple Fairy stayed in the Fairy Kingdom, and they met Blue Raspberry by the roadside who offered to guide them to the spire. You can actually see Gingerbrave's speech bubbles in the first comic!

As for her reaction, I'd say she likes Blue Raspberry. She’s definitely clocked that Blue has a HUGE crush on Vanilla, and is cheering her on. (I hc Vanilla and Lily as exes that Vanilla hasn’t gotten over yet, but Lily has). I just love imaging Lily pulling Blue off to the side, and encouraging her to ask out Vanilla after they finish their business at the Spire.

[totally-not-here-for-the-smut]

New cinematic HCs! This time is

The M6 in a fairytale AU

Portia

Clearly the main character who has to go through a long, perilous journey of self discovery in order to become queen of the Far Away Land and save her dumb dumb older brother who used to be the king.

Julian

Current king of the realm. Protects at all cost his sister, marrying an Evil Queen in order to give his little sister a female figure to care for her. Ends up victim of the Evil Queen curse, some shit like being turned into a crow. Has to be saved by his sister. Annoying animal of the story. Gets regularly plucked by the fox.

Asra

The princess's helper. Presents themselves as a magic talking fox who guides her with wise advices through her journey. Eventually asks to be killed by her by some gruesome method (like being skinned), she reluctantly complies to find out that under the fox's skin emerges a beautiful prince of a far away land who was once cursed too by the evil queen.

Muriel

Is ordered to kill the princess by the Evil Queen. He refuses and becomes the princess's strongest ally. Eventually throws the queen out from a window, killing her and freeing Julian from the curse.

Nadia

Brave and strong knight (or iron maiden, idk) from a nearby kingdom who got invaded by the Evil Queen's army. Challenges Portia to a duel in order to grant her the passage across the bridge, gets defeated by Portia's wits and is baffled and admired to the point she falls in love with her. Cool scene where the defeated Knight falls from the horse, Portia runs to help her feeling super guilty and worried, removes the helmet and is revealed that the knight was a woman all along! They marry in the end, bringing peace to the realms.

Lucio

The Evil Queen.

Title of the tale: White as a queen, black as a feather.

[two-white-butterflies]

white sword | d. targaryen

Description: Daemon fights you in the field. He struggles to do so because of the feelings in his heart.

Rating: Mature [angst, age appropriate reader, dornish coded reader, very short smut like 200 words]

Author's Note: GIF again because Canva won't load.

He takes a step forward - boots crunching over the bloody battlefield. There were bodies of green and black armor laid on the floor - their life was already taken away. He holds the Dark Sister firmly on his hands, twirling it around while he catches a glimpse of your green armor in his periphery.

The world seems to stop spinning for a second. All he could think about was you - the woman that he left to pursue a greater path.

How long has it been since he's last seen you? It has been at least a decade since his war in the Stepstones - and nothing has changed. Your face still held youth and beauty - eyes shining brightly and with purpose. You were wearing a golden armor - like the sun.

Fire could destroy, but all knelt to the sun.

You turned slowly to face him - blood dripping down your armor. "Is it really?" you raised an eyebrow, removing your helmet before remembering that he was an enemy too. He draws his sword - pointing at you. He didn't want you to take another step further. He couldn't bare to see you another step further.

Because to gaze upon those eyes means accepting the fact that you're real - accepting the fact that you're all he needs, and he couldn't do that. Not to Rhaenyra - not to his sons. "You have not changed," you breathed, circling his body with reluctance.

"You too." he replied, inhaling the scent of blood and ashes. How many times has the Rogue Prince fallen in love? Once, only with you. "- the sun still favors your beauty" he could not resist to say.

A bitter chuckle escapes your mouth - he was an enemy, the very reason that the kingdom was in disharmony. "How will it end, Daemon?" you ask - referring to him with his proper name. His eyes soften - he's never heard you say his name before - you always referred to him with the endearments that he adored.

He drops his sword on the ground.

And you do the same.

(STEPSTONES 115 AC)

It was unusual to see a warrior lady in the battlefield - but bedding one? It was something for legends.

"My prince," you moaned feeling his cock tighten around your abused hole. He kept his hands firm around your waist while you bucked up and down, feeling your abdomen tighten with every thrust. "Gevie," he whispered with a clenched jaw.

If you were a common whore - he'd be ashamed at the rate of his submission - but you were ... amazing, for the lack of a better word. He pulls your face closer to his body - pressing another kiss to your lips. There were maidens that he fucked, never kissed - but you were different. You were more than them.

He feels his cock spasm inside your womb, emptying his seed. A loud exhale escapes your mouth, hands wrapped around his body. You attempt to stand up - but he pulls you back down. "Keep it in," he pleaded - and you relented.

@nyctophilic0vitnir @watercolorskyy @bellastwd @icarusgloom @pearlstiare @areaderinlove @hc-geralt-23 @rozendiors @immyowndefender @ammo23 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @ammo23 @immyowndefender @bitchyunknownuser @xcinnamonmalfoyx

[scham-wcan]

Hi hi! Do you think you could do a CinWin HC? Specifically these three (👻🐈🚗)

Heya heya, always!

👻: I think Cinder is one of those people who believes in the supernatural like 9 times out of 10 in aus, partially because she’s lived through most of it and partially because she has a vibe with destiny and otherworldly things. Cinder isn’t show offy about it though, she believes in the stuff but the most she’ll have is some occultish books or the like for ‘research’. Research is the apt name for Winter’s beliefs with supernatural things, she entertains the ideas, thinks about the social implications of ‘why’ certain things are believed or thought of. She will be damned that she can shoot lightning from her hands and not reason a way through it all the same. The supernatural is a fun debate night idea for them.

🐈: The lowest hanging fruit I have is that Winter is obsessed with penguins so I will say that and go onto something else. I think they both have some odd fascination with animals that survive extremes, like hyenas are up there as hunter scavengers, birds of prey are Cinder’s pride and joy, and they’re both not all too fond of the ocean but will admit that sharks are peculiar creatures.

🚗: Considering how often they travel around they likely have fallen into a certain mould of things whether it be Hunt or SDC related. Winter organises much of the departures and whatnot, planning and planning, but getting onto the airships, trains, whatever have you is left for Cinder is who just too eager to shove and make way for her and her partner’s seats. They do fly personally around Atlas and individual Kingdoms though, Maiden powers are convenient that way, but it is a sap of energy when they could just take one of the SDC’s private craft where they can fall asleep on one another if the need or longing arises

[thelovelymissbigbadwolf]

Silly little Kingdom Hearts HC

SeaSalt Trio Edition:

They're roommates, but only Axel pays the rent cuz he wanna be the big brother in this. Yes, Saix has to help.

Roxas spent hours playing Tony Hawk games and swears THAT'S how he learned how to skate.

Axel is the one to know the truth and even has photo evidence this claim is in fact false.

Xion likes dolls and is often scrolling through the OOAK tag.

Axel is terrified of going into Xion's room because he's terrified of dolls and her room is filled with some that he finds specially creepy.

Roxas isn't scared of dolls, but hates live sized dolls because they're too close to uncanny valley to him.

Xion is currently making a life size doll from scratch.

No, Rox and Axel are not pleased, but definitely support their friend.

Roxas has fake tattoo sleeves.

Axel has a few tattoos he quite likes it, but his favorite is of a fiery axolotl.

The one he hates and go to great lengths in hiding is a small crooked star with "u dood it" written inside. It was all shits in gigs when he did it, but now he hates it.

Xion has a heart tattooed near her left eye because of Draculaura.

She has vampire fang piercings on her upper lips, Vanitas was the one to pierce it.

Axel has a ton of piercings, bridge on his nose, quite a few ear piercings since it's the area he least feels pain and recently made dimple piercings he loves it and Saix constantly makes fun of saying it's "bread crumb piercing".

Roxas has regularly pierced ears plus one upper helix piercing on his left ear.

Roxas is a bottle blonde.

Axel is a bottle redhead.

Xion is a bottle brunette.

Yes, they let their roots grow to make dye nights and paint each other's hair.

Saix is a bottle... "Bluette"? No, he does not take dye nights, he prefers going to an actual hair salon to dye his hair professionally.

Someone uses blue lenses, but they don't know if it's Roxas or Xion, or even if it's from a third person.

Axel says he has a pretty eclectic music taste but actually he only hears to ex-Disney Channel star's music. His favorite is Selena Gomez and he stans Rare Beauty.

Roxas is the actual eclectic one, he actually knows how to play drums even.

Xion is a metalhead. Low-key, she hears on a basis Metallica, Slipknot, Iron Maiden and System of a Down, but in true she adores Tenacious D.

Axel is the only one that dates, yes it's Saix, how did you know?

Saix is the mom and Axel tries to be the responsible dad, but he's as irresponsible as Rox and Xion.

Xion loves goth and lolita fashion.

Roxas will not admit, but loves 2000's emo fashion.

Axel likes hipster fashion. Yes, even the mustaches.

Xion overdresses, Axel is Adam Sandler and Roxas is the middle term.

Xion loves Phantom of the Opera and even has a rose with a black ribbon tattooed.

Roxas wants to do a tattoo, but doesn't know what his first tattoo should be.

[madame-fear]

Hallo! Could I request a bran x reader? Idk I’ve had loads of thoughts of like taking care/comforting bran over the past few days haha

— a/n : YES OF COURSE, absolutely love this oneee <33 i made general hcs for this one because my creative ass is lacking 🥲🔫 hope you enjoy your reading anyways !! ♡

• Having known Bran for all your entire life, it's as if you already knew when he needed some warming comforting without him having to tell you.

• Before he fell from the tower, he was a pretty rebellious and independent young boy who loved climbing anywhere. He had even taught you how to climb! And in those moments, he didn't need anyone comforting him, honestly.

• But, after he fell and realised that he was never going to be able to normally walk or climb anymore, he felt pretty much useless. And there you were, by his side before and after he had some days of being unconscious on his bed.

• The first thing you did when he woke up was tightly embrace him in a hug, and greet him with a broad smile... plus some light tearing, because you were afraid of never being able to have your friend back.

“I'm so happy you're awake, Bran! I was afraid of never being able to be with you again.” you quietly mumbled, as you tightly embraced him. A wave of relief washed over you, knowing that at least, he still had some more time to spend by your side.

• Your warm, loving hug was the very first thing he experienced when he woke up, and quite honestly... he felt reassured and comforted, in a way. Our boy quickly returned the tight embraced, and buried his head on your shoulder.

• Then, you talked to him about everything that happened while he wasn't conscious, and you also provided the basic care he needed the following days, and a bit more than basic needs as well; such as: covering him with the fur of his blankets when he had to sleep, asking maidens to bring him food, even offering yourself to brush his hair if he wanted too, cuddling with him, watching over him while he slept (even if you were his age, but you thought you could protect him somehow), and a looong long list of other things you did for him.

• After that moment, he realised how much you genuinely cared for him. And he also realised, you were the only one who provided him a true sense of comfort amongst the war, plus... a light crush grew fondly on him for you... but he wouldn't admit it.

• As both of you grew up together, you sticked by his side all the time. You were a truly loyal companion, and one who attentively listened to him, and took care of him. Basically, you went through a whole bunch of shit situations, but at least you were together.

• Even after he became the Three-Eyed-Raven and the King of the Seven Kingdoms you were there to still provide him comfort and care for him like you did when you were small children. Everytime you showed him your genuine affection, his heart fluttered a bit more for you and he deeply enjoyed it... though, as always, he'd keep that to himself.

• The affection you had for him was also shown in different ways, such as: helping him calm down and relax when he was too overwhelmed by his duties and responsabilities as King, sitting on his lap, taking him to take a scroll on the gardens, leaving little love notes on top of his bed or nightstand, etc.

• And HE APPRECIATES THAT A TON <33 And of course, he'll return the favour by gifting you things like small flowers or also leaving notes on your bedroom, or just braiding your hair if you want to.

• The best thing he likes you to do to comfort him when he's too tired/overwhelmed by everything in general, is having you sit on his lap, and play with strands of his silky hair while he rants about his day, and you attentively listen.

• ^ tbh feeling your warm presence and having your fingers delicately run across his hair never fails to soothe Bran and calm him.

• Though he isn't the type of person that expresses what he thinks or feels, he genuinely enjoys your affection in a whole deeper extent, and is very fond of having you as his right hand, plus life companion.

• And also, like I said previously, he'll make sure to let you know he enjoys the comfort you give him by gift giving, taking hold of your hand, and pulling you on his lap only to wrap his arms around your body. Plus, if you ever need to be calmed down/comforted, he'll return you all the caring you give him in a heartbeat.

[etruatcaelum]

On the Branwen Tribe.

In brief, the bandits shown in the Mistral arc represent only a fraction of the Branwen tribe; they're a war party.

The Branwens belong to a predominately-human ethnic minority, the Manogans, indigenous to the Kuchinashi region in southern Mistral. Driven out of their homeland by Mistrali conquest long ago, Manogans have eked out a living for centuries as nomads on the southern fringes of Mistral, where they're regarded as bloodthirsty, warlike thieves and widely reviled.

In reality, however, Manogans have always been shepherds—and capable warriors, a necessity in the grimm-infested hinterlands they claim as their own.

Still: life is hard, the Manogans rely on steel and dust to survive, and the enmity between them and their sedentary neighbors is ancient and deep. Though they trade when they can for what they need, raiding has long been the way of life for many Manogan tribes.

Qrow and Raven were the eldest children of Rook, chieftain of the Branwen tribe, and his wife Corinne. The twins were three when their mother died in childbirth; their younger sister, born sickly, did not live long enough to receive her name. Rook remarried seven years later, and his second wife bore him a fourth child, Vernal, when the twins were eleven.

He was not a kind man, and he held a particular grudge against Qrow, whose semblance he blamed for Corinne's death—an attitude shared by most of the tribe, for tragic accidents did seem to follow in the boy's wake.

Both twins learnt to fight from birth a matter of course, grimm being an inescapable threat; but only Raven aspired to become a warrior, while Qrow joined her in that pursuit because no one else wanted him, and he could at least try to turn misfortune against the tribe's enemies.

In this life, huntsmen were horrifying figures, monstrous men and women possessed of supernatural powers, each with the strength of ten men—a far greater danger to their people than the grimm, which even a child could hope to defeat. Going to Beacon did little to change Raven's view of huntsmen, or even her view of the world: she had, after all, been taught that the strong live and the weak die, and the true mark of the tribe's strength lay in being strong enough to defend its most vulnerable members… Ozpin, it seemed to her, believed in the same ethos. The only difference between him and Rook was that Ozpin saw the whole of human civilization as his "tribe."

So she agreed to work with Ozpin, accepted the magical gift he offered, tried to save the world; but as far as she cared, the warriors of the Branwen tribe were equally justified in fighting to protect their people from grimm and huntsmen alike. This became a frequent point of contention between her and the rest of the inner circle.

When she returned to the tribe, she challenged Rook for leadership of the Branwens and bested him in single combat. Her commitment to the tribe is sincere, and she is bound to many of them through Kindred Link. She appoints her stepmother, Mynah, to rule in her stead when she leaves them to join the fight in Vale.

[manias-wordcount]

Greetings my dear friend. I have returned with a request for my beloved tower Aone Takanobu. Since you did that you liked Fantasy AUs I used my kingdom of ideas, which created the following request :

Dragon!Aone, living near a village, wakes up to fem!reader chained to a tree near his cave. When he slowly goes up to them as to not scare them he is surprised to be met with excitement. After he freed the reader, she tells him about how she was curious and interested in dragons wich let to the village people sending her as a sacrifice to him. Aone is happy that someone isn't afraid of him for once and let's the reader stay with him.

So how about some headcanons ar short story ( what ever you like ) about how they turn from friends to lovers ?

Thanks from my hopeless romantic single like a Pringle ass. I love you and your work

S/o and Dragon HCs (Aone Takanobu)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The Maiden and her smile

When he first saw you there, chained up and locked to a tree, he was furious

How dare they lock up a maiden and try to sacrifice her to him??

He knew what people thought of dragons but he couldn’t help but feel insulted he would be used in a plot so cruel

Naturally, he knew that no one was going to come and save you so he took his approach

He tried to be as slow and as gentle as he could, not making any sudden movements in fear of terrifying you too much that it would be impossible to get close

You didn’t notice him immediately, but once he was close enough and you laid your eyes on him?

You surprised him

He had heard screaming and shouting and swearing at his existence before but never had he ever heard someone squeal in excitement 

But there you were- the biggest smile on your face as you clapped your and together and shouted “You’re here! You came!” at him

And little did he know that would be the start of something new

The Maiden and her hands

You loved dragons- that was what you told him when he first untied you

Despite this, he tried to nudge you with his snout in the direction he knew there were villages but you wouldn’t budge.

Instead, you were quick to turn around and run your fingers up and down in excitement

That over-joyed look on your face? It never went away as you looked at him in such awe 

As much as Aone enjoyed your soft, gentle touch, he knew you couldn’t stay

He was a beast but you were like the sun- a cave is no home for a woman like you and a dragon is no companion for a person so sweet

But no matter how much he pushed or huffed or glared down at you, you wouldn’t leave.

You just looked up at him and smiled as if this was where you were meant to be. Where you wanted to be.

A couple of minutes later, he found himself walking back to his cave with another huff

You walked beside him, holding onto his tail the entire way

The Maiden and her words

It took a couple of weeks for you to adjust, and just a few months for everything to fall into place

He learned so much about humans that he didn’t know before- and very quickly too

He learned that while you can eat the same berries and fruits as he, you could not eat his hunt- not without a breath of his fire to scorch the skin of his kill

He learned that you were not content with sleeping all day as he did. 

You were built to explore and to wander and to get yourself in all sorts of trouble that he would gladly save you from

He learned that you needed warm at night and a simple fire was not enough when the wind blows strong

You sleep best when you’re curled into his side and he’s curled around you

He learned that you had so much to say- about your home, your life, your family, the world, and him

He learned that you were quick to compliment him on his existence. Quick to say that you loved his eyes and his scales and that you thought he was so beautiful. So grand.

And he learned that you were quick to tell him that you think you love him only after you thought that he had fallen asleep

[pluvialpoet]

ashes & embers // chapter 3

summary: forced to enter a loveless marriage- built solely upon deceit- you can’t help but wonder if lust is the only thing keeping the flame of your marriage ablaze. As the years slowly pass, you begin to question how long your union will prosper without the presence of love, and what will become of the smoldering spark of desire when it fades away to nothing more than ashes and embers?

pairing: daemon targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of insecurity, power imbalance, and period typical sexism

word count: 7,343

series masterlist

“What do you know of the woman from the Vale?”

Fresh beets, berries, currants, and rhubarb sit on a platter, leaking juices that would’ve otherwise stained the oak of the vanity- if not for the tray of silver that separates them. The colors- a chaotic mix of vibrant shades and darkened hues- have swirled together to create a red so dark, it appears almost black, and as Rhaenyra keeps her gaze fixed upon the mess she’s created, she can’t help but notice how the concoction resembles dragon’s blood.

Nimble fingers cease their hold against a crown of silver, and the movements that were once confident now seem hesitant- unsure- at the presence of such a piercing question. In the reflection, the princess notes the discomfort of her lady maid- a firm press of lips coupled with a pinched brow and flushed cheeks- and she watches in silence whilst the abigail considers her reply. A breath passes the girl’s lips, followed by a small huff, but no words fill the silence between them.

Rhaenyra’s eyes flicker between the conflicted face of her confidant and her own, as it stares back at her through the mirror. Eventually, she can’t meet her own gaze. Forcing herself to look away, she closes her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. Her fingers curl into a fist, pulling the skin at her knuckles taut, whilst a shuddering breath passes her parted lips.

The girl she sees in the mirror haunts her. She is too pale. Her hair is too argent, and her skin is too soft. Features that she adored only a morn prior are the ones she detests the most. For she is too pale, her hair is too argent, and her skin is too soft- in comparison to you and yours. The things that once deemed her the most desirable maiden in all of the seven kingdoms- qualities that were once acknowledged as the epitome of beauty- are now void of such lure. The young girl struggles to find merit in the traits that set the two of you apart.

She mourns what was never hers to mourn.

{continue reading on ao3}

series taglist: @becauseicantthinkwritings​ @sadroses98 @vile-villain6661 @hc-geralt-23 @beggarsnotchoose @thanyatargaryen @sithapprentice @ohhh-boo-tiful @a-beaverhausen @thewinchestersgal @merovingianprincess @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

Send me a message to be on the taglist!

buy me a ko-fi!

[goobiegoobert]

Ballroom Breach

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I'm cringe and decided to just start talking about my ideas for a security breach au since prince moon has been in my inbox a lot recently! Unsure if anyone else has done this, but I just wanted to share my silly au since I plan on posting a series in this universe later :)

if you use this, please do credit and tag me because I'd love to see anything akin to this!

here's to @sparkle-anonamous @sundrop-droptop and @glambots inspiring me on this!

[ prince moondrop is usually in my hcs for normal security breach so I usually tag them as such <3 ]

The Kingdom of Eden

     ◦  This is a major kingdom that flourishes under the rule of King Freddy Fazbear XXV

     ◦  It's been a flourishing kingdom for multiple centuries each ran by the currents predecessors and is seen to be a jewel of the land from its local taverns to the lively townspeople almost always setting up for various parties and festivals that can be enjoyed by many and all!

     ◦  The economy here is based off of tourism attracted and often makes sure to befriend almost any other minor empire or kingdom so long as they'll have them or so long as their rule is just and fair without causing harm

     ◦  There used to be a wandering magician by the name of Bonnie who the first ruler of Eden seemed to thoroughly take pleasure in chatting with and once upon a time even being added to their court.

     ◦  Over many years the magician had children for heir own who were always nicknamed after their founding father before them, often to the point no one truly knows the name of each Bonnie, as of in recent years the latest magician seemed to have a further fancy to the king than almost anyone else in the kingdom.

     ◦  More often than not, Bonnie repaid heavily from their love. It was assumed to be that soon enough the kingdom would rejoice and celebrate a marriage between lovers so true!

     ◦  At least, until a week before an announced proposal was meant to happen directly after celebrating a child's birthday. Quickly before it was meant to happen it seemed no one could find the man of the hour and as days turned into months and dragged into years the king gave up hope and swore to never love another! For that he, Freddy Fazbear, truly believed that their love would return home soon.

     ◦  Though it seems an up-and-coming royal guard might be giving that swear a run for its money. Montgomery, a fearful new recruit into the position of being a private guard that's often not seen to farm from Freddy, is believed to be having an affair with the king in private that no one seems to bat an eye at the grip on Monty's sword always seems to tighten once people begin flooding out the room.

The Amaryllis Kingdom.

     ◦  One of the earliest kingdoms to gain a place of trust and trade from the Fazbear kingdom, fairly known at the beginning for providing wonderful ingredients and spices that no other could truly reproduce on their own.

     ◦  It wasn't until current rulers in recent years that it slowly shifted it focus from spices to textiles and silks the people often going about in beautiful clothes that usually within a pattern would often display the kingdom's crest

     ◦  The current rulers of Amaryllis are two maidens, frequently said to be the fairest and admired for their true love often being expressed so kindly, who go by the name of Chica XIV and Roxanne.

     ◦  The kingdom is rather open freely to any form of love so long as it isn't immoral and cruel, being a known hotspot for couples to settle down and start their families in the safe environment

     ◦  Though it's come into light within recent years that the seeds used and reproduced have come from a minor less known kingdom which has caused quite a stir in the history books with residents being divided on if the fact should be changed or not in attempts for moral correctness and as apologies. Others seem to rather think it'd their right to keep as is for their glory and name!

     ◦  In recent of Queen Chica marrying Princess Roxanne, it's been quite a turn that the place now has an underground racing market that seems to fill any gamblers dream.

     ◦  Several have tried to elaborate that this could be Roxy's doing, but those settled down quickly, and it's currently a mystery as to who runs this market behind everyone's backs

A Kingdom Veiled by Stars

     ◦  A small kingdom located beyond the mountains nestled in a comfortable basin by the sea that's decorated with beautiful flowers of night and day with fragrant spices and a comforting haze by street lights. Seemingly to be one of the more advanced kingdoms in knowledge, almost all trade never comes through these parts.

     ◦  The rules are twins, brothers united by the heavens, the two are never seen together and quite a rift was caused in the kingdom after the prince nicknamed by all to be Sunnydrop had given up their rule, swiftly after an event plagued the prince's mind, instead allowing their twin brother with a questionable background and odd mannerisms to take over the crown

     ◦  Moondrop was the other's nickname. This kingdom was once shrouded with many rejoicing and often was the place to be when starting a family, often claimed to be blessed by a fertility God who assure that almost any family to stay would be blessed with beautiful children to their heart's content. Though this is still true, people seem to believe this place is simply in ruins and forgotten if you aren't a current inhabitant.

     ◦  The kingdom is fairly known in the current times for its lovely architecture and state of the arts. Every building seemingly draped with beautiful quartz and gold lined inside. Marble, regularly being a substitute for the quartz.

     ◦  Often a ship claimed to be run by ghosts comes into harbour offering up glittering golds and treasures in turn for the kingdom's spices, art, and most desired is the kingdom's stained-glass murals. It's truly the only trade that the kingdom gets now after their economy was deemed to be less in value to others after a renaissance which prided agriculture more than anything.

     ◦  In current days it's seen to be a myth that this kingdom has ever existed and is used within stories to other kingdoms as means of a warning of how those who advance too fast seem to always fall in the end.

     ◦  It's a mystery as to what this kingdom is or if it even exists, from how little people visit and those who do never seem to return.

     ◦  But within the hearts of the people in this tight-knit community, it seems there's nothing more that people here could want from the beautiful kingdom, who seems to always be graced by the stars above shining down on them.

The ship of Sirens

     ◦  This is a myth often produced in the more known kingdoms books to have been seen as the fiercest pirates that ever ruled the seas. Even with the people no longer using the ocean for travels and communication since all the kingdoms are closely knit by land, it's typically wondered if they brought out the old ships if this unknown figment would reappear.

     ◦  It's run by a Captain who'd been known as a charmer to ladies and lads alike and being quite a sneaky hand that seemed to fool nobility alike

     ◦  Robbed of many things, these high riders of the sea were ruthless and would attack any ship in sight not apart from their own fleet, robbing it of any valuables and killing crew that even tried to resist.

     ◦  In recent times a new person had joined the crew, a rather sweet and mystical man who nicknamed themselves as Von Bon. Proving to be fearful as the last thing a person sees in their eyes before dimming out.

     ◦  The recent myths of the ship have started to go up as a charming man clad in a pirates outfit has begun docking in the abandoned harbours and fixing their ship or to recruit new members aboard the fleet. Even trading passing nobles for their vast collection of art and sculptures, sometimes even spices that many haven't seen in generations.

     ◦  It's rumoured that a reason to fear this forsaken ship is that the Captain himself preformed a deal with the devil beyond the mountains. Being protected and technology beyond current comparison.

     ◦  Their crew includes men and women alike, but with a further ratio of men. The ship is clean and curt and those who retire and are told to be mad seem to tell tales of how loving their captain is and how no matter the journey and struggle that no man could be left behind in their journeys even if it meant a loss in their riches

     ◦  It seems that it can be told that those who approach the ships' mirage will never be seen again, only to get eaten alive by monsters that lurk in the water as you drown.

     ◦  Such a sweet melody.

[liliquixxx]

★MASTERLIST☆

Dandys world

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Cookie run kingdom

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Cookie run ovenbreak

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Phighting

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Madoka magica

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Lucky star (platonic only)

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Welcome home

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Let him go

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Block tales

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Regretevator

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ENA: Dream BBQ

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Taski maiden x reader romantic hc

[themarauderstheoutsidersandpeggy]

I LOVE what you do, I REALLY LOVE IT. I rarely stop to say that to someone but dAMN. I was wondering if you could do something about Stevepop, that couple drives me crazy! Please and keep doing the wonderful things you do❤

:') omg tysm darling that means so much to me :D here's some stevepop hcs bc i love them and it's what i'm feeling today <3 (please request more for the outsiders i beg of you)

i think they would literally be all over each other 24/7

They work together, and steve got kicked out so he definitely moves in with the curtises

pony gets kicked out of him and soda's room so that the couple can sleep together </3

actually no one kicked him out but he spent one night in there with soda in the middle of him and steve and it was mortifyingly hellish so he moved

He sleeps in Darry's room now

And just naturally they grow closer :D

Steve actually grows closer to Pony as well, because Soda adores him and he finds it hard to keep being so cold

ty steve for fixing their family <3

i wasn't kidding though when i said they're all over each other all the time

they're working and Steve stands at the counter behind soda while he's ringing someone up like 🧍‍♂️

they actually end up getting a decent car together

it's their baby

while some couples get a dog or a cat

stevepop have a car

her name is vanessa

they have matching tattoos, steve has a coke bottle on his wrist and soda has a switchblade on his

sometimes steve gets arrested for doing something stupid

and soda begs Darry to help him bail him out

"We just can't afford it! I'm sorry Soda, but we can't just spend that much for something like this. Use visiting hours."

Soda acts like he's a maiden in a medieval love story in love with a prince from an enemy kingdom

"Though these walls may separate us, my heart will forever stay with you, for you have me enchanted, my love."

"Soda wtf i'm only in here for three more days"

"My love, thou art eloquent and beautiful in your claims, but i must protest. 'Tis I who has been enraptured by you."

Sometimes Soda and Steve think Darry and Pony can't hear them doing anything late at night and

Darry and Pony are in the other room, in the bed, trying to fall asleep, staring at each other uncomfortably

Darry finally gets up after a few minutes

"Let's go out and get some ice cream."

when I tell you they run out of that house

Soda and Steve learn to rollerskate together

They go skating every night, after dinner

They pool their money to get into rodeos again, and while neither of them have their own horses, they're able to worm their way into the good graces of people that do have them

They get thrown around and beat up but the other one is always there to take care of whoever got hurt :')

they don't know who's clothes are who's anymore lmfao

"Is that my shirt?"

"I think so?"

Sodapop makes Steve a bracelet omg

it's braided and steve has a hell of a time figuring out how to make Soda one for their two year anniversary but he does it

definitely making a part two to this whether people ask for it or not lmfao <3

Taglist: @spideyyypeter @the-outsiders-fandom @book-wyrm-snacks @nevergoinoutastyle2876 @huffle-homie24601 @ilostcount-helpme @dallyvally @lostnliterature @darrybutgay @stradling_izzy_stradlin @deathofthethrones @not-jay-cosby @writing-red @snoploop @johnnycadeissocute @all-thegayships @briisasinamonroll @bonjouritsellaa @lady-of-lies @ardentmuse @blueivysuniverse @dark-night-sky99 @ilovetvshowsblog @s0cial-retard @savethehoneeybees @luna-xxxxx @bvmakk @deathofthethrones @humblemei @trying-to-live-my-life21 @broken-and-alone12 @fandomnerdsarecool (hey this taglist is old i haven't updated in forever so hopefully i'll finally do that)

[jewelofmorardain]

Hi this is entirely self indulgent no one requested these HCs but I’m doing them anyways. Many thoughts head full + I need to wind down.

MadeCandy (Madeleine x Cotton Candy)

- It started when Madeleine decided to go to the Aqua Myra Playhouse one evening after his shift had ended. He often saw his Captain Raspberry go there, so it must be good, right?

- Of course, the night he decided to go, the show had already been over. Not wanting to waste his time (especially because he was dumb enough to tell his squadron that he’d be back at a certain time), he decided to chat with some of the performers.

- He and Cotton hit it off... somewhat well. Madeleine had heard of her in passing from some of the other commanders, but to finally meet her in person was... underwhelming. He was expecting a goddess, not just a plain village girl! Despite this, he attempted to be cordial and polite; making a lady cry would probably stain his “pristine” reputation.

- It took a while for him to actually willingly visit her. Particularly because the knights were giving him more and more duties. He tried to make time for himself, he really did, but it was difficult and was beginning to bring back bad habits.

- Once he was relieved of duty for the summer, as most commanders did to make way for training and camps, he visited the playhouse again. It was then that he built a friendship with Cotton, and later on, they’d start dating.

- They’re the epitome of the “cinderella and prince charming” stereotype. Madeleine makes it a point to flirt with her, and they like to be close to one another.

- To Madeleine, referring to him and Cotton as “the turtle doves” is a compliment. It’s not.

- Madeleine’s pretty fastidious (“My appearance reflects my status!”) so he and Cotton often do each other’s hair. Madeleine loves it.

- For gifts, Madeleine always tries to find some kind of souvenir for Cotton when he goes out on quests for the Kingdom. Usually it’s in the form of a precious stone or a new book, but her favorite? Any kind of stationary.

- They exchange letters quite often. They’re mostly the sappy kind maidens send to their husbands when they’re out to war. White especially loves teasing Maddie about this, saying how she “never knew he was into the mushy stuff.”

- Cotton loves to cook for him, too! Rose always said the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and she holds true to that idea. Madeleine always is happy to see a nice hearty meal ready for him.