#Rule As A Monarch Under The Skirts

[artforiasenibudayajepang]

20 Manhwa/Webtoon Harem Terbaik untuk Dibaca di Tahun 2023

Tren Terkini dalam Manhwa/Webtoon Harem Terbaik untuk dibaca Tahun 2023 Berita Hobi Jepang – Manhwa, atau komik web Korea, semakin populer di seluruh dunia berkat seni yang indah dan alur cerita yang menarik. Salah satu subgenre yang kerap muncul dalam manhwa adalah harem, yang memfokuskan pada protagonis pria dan hubungan cinta yang rumit dengan beberapa karakter wanita. Dalam daftar berikut,…

[rarepears]

A nearby country just had a new monarch ascend the throne. Cang Qiong, as was the norm, was invited to pay their respects to the new monarch, reaffirm the standing alliance between cultivators and mortals (which pretty much boiled down to cultivators kill evil things, mortals stay out of cultivation affairs plus some trade agreements), and ensure that the previous monarch's soul wasn't still lurking around the palace as a ghost. You know, the standard stuff.

So Yue Qingyuan didn't think much when he sent the usual delegation of Shen Qingqiu (to handle the political negotiation and come back with observations of the new Emperor), Shang Qinghua (trade agreements), and Qi Qingqi (to talk with the court ladies and government official wives for the gossip).

The last thing he expected was for the new Emperor to recognize Shen Jiu as the little brother who went missing when the previous Emperor - the new Emperor's paternal uncle, from what Yue Qingyuan understood - undertook a military coup to secure the throne.

---

When Shen Yuan finally killed his super fucking evil tyrant uncle who had been sending a million assassins after Shen Yuan and his (unfortunately now dead) brothers, he got saddled with the throne. He knew that was going to happen! It was something he wasn't asking for, but it was either regain the throne or let his uncle finally succeed in killing him, the rightful Emperor, off. It was pretty shitty that his first month in this new world involved surviving a military coup in the palace where his new dad was murdered by his new uncle for the throne. If Shen Yuan thought being transmigrated into a body that drowned in the pond because of some harem politics for the crown prince position was bad, well, his life got a whole lot fucking worse.

But things were over. He was crowned emperor, had a million super tight best friends all high up in his government backing him, and even the cultivators were recognizing his reign as the legit one, so he was all fine.

Right??

NO! Because why the fuck was he just realizing now that his second life was actually taking place in PIDW and why the fuck was that Shen Qingqiu and the Cang Qiong delegation??? Like, he was busy living on the streets and plotting to retake the throne, sure, but how could he had missed that Cang Qiong was that Cang Qiong!?

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where in the PIDW plot line was he in now? How far along is Shen Qingqiu busy torturing the protagonist and how much longer does Shen Yuan even have to rule his country before the protagonist comes to conquer? How the fuck is he going to stop the plot from continuing - how is he going to remove Shen Qingqiu from the plot?

Shen Yuan isn't proud to admit it, but he rolls with the first shitty idea that pops into his head.

He claims that Shen Qingqiu is his missing younger brother - he had like three dozen of them to be honest, his second life's dad was one horny motherfucker - and tries to keep Shen Qingqiu from going back to Cang Qiong under all sorts of familial pretenses.

Shen Yuan is sure that Cang Qiong is merely humoring his insanity by letting Shen Qingqiu go along with it all, having "family dinners" and making small talk while being careful to skirt around any true political talk, but his plan hasn't backfired on him yet.

YET.

He's sitting on this ticking timebomb and Shen Yuan might be in his 40s but he still feels like the same stupid 20 something year old writing 5k word diss reviews on PIDW chapters some days. If only he had a system to help guide him out of his own mess.

(Meanwhile Shen Jiu: I HAVE AN OLDER BROTHER WHO LOVES ME???? but I'm still sus about his motives. I will reluctantly allow him to shower me in presents and praises and spend time with him to investigate more.)

[misguidedasgardian]

The White Dragon (44)

44. The Great Council

MASTERLIST

Summary: you gather a council to decide the fate of the Seven Kingdoms

Pairings: main Harwin Strong x Fem!Targaryen reader

Warnings: cursing, medieval and A song of ice and Fire AU customs, injury, burns, dragon fire, death, violence, armies, death, war and all that comes with it. Might miss some warnings but you know what this is about :) 

+18, MINORS DNI

Wordcount: 3.333 words like WHATTTT

Notes: UUFFFF THIS IS IT PEOPLE, THE LAST ONE, I MEAN THIS ONE AND THEN THE EPILOGUE! CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO READ IT

You let yourself move at the rhythm of the maid washing you with a rough sponge, the water of the tub had already had to be changes thrice for becoming black with the remains of the dragon blood in your body

The boiling dragon blood that bathed you as your dragon slayed Aegon

The maids took the good part of an hour and the help of members of Rhaenyra’s Queensguard to remove the melted armor from your body, and then the pieces of leather that melted into your skin

But you were unharmed and your skin untarnished

While you were inside the tub, your gaze was setted in some point on the wall, trying to fit into your head everything that went down in the last 12 hours…

You watching the capital being conquered by Aegon from above

“Please raise your arms your grace”, whispered the maid and you did, she scrapped the rests of melted fabrics from under them

The adrenaline that took a hold on your body when you fought for your life

You flinched when she pulled a piece of leather from your skin, the water again was black, dark black, the smell of smoke and sulfur almost making you dizzy

Finding soldiers and civilians alike dead in the steps to the Dragonpit

The maid signaled for you to reach with your leg out of the tub, your skin still smudged with dried dragon blood

Rhaenyra was dead, and Aegon was well

That made you stand up, and wait there for them to replace the filthy water for more clean one, they were quick in their labor and you didn’t have to wait more than five minutes, to sink again in the boiling water 

Finding out that Jacaerys and Joffrey were too

Another maid washed your hair, you watched as the dried blood melted back with the water, tainting it black once more

So much darkness

Oils with scents were placed in the waters this time, the last bath this was, after other four, finally you would get dress and abandon your chambers

The toll of all the deaths in your finally make you want to sink in the bathtub

As the sweet maids cleaned the last smudged from your body, you finally felt like you could breathe again, it hurt, but you could, and that was improvement, you believed, you wanted to believe 

You didn’t know what to do now, how to proceed, you had never taken a city before, you had never witnessed the death of two monarchs in front of your eyes, you had never witnessed the deaths of so many members of your family before

What now?

But for a second you forgot about all the people in the keep, in the capital, in the Realms, from the servants to the Heads of the most important families, everyone around you

They did now what to do

As you gazed upon the outfit the maids had chosen for you to wear

it was a dark black outfit, a loose skirt boots for underneath, and a leather vest over it, the sleeves seemed to be made of scales, and the details in black leather, and a red cape fixed to the suit in a silver chain with a head of the dragon to be placed in the right side of your chest 

An outfit to mourn, to rule, to conquer

They dressed you, they braided your hair in magnificent braids, and finally you were ready

And you were ready, as the sun fell over the horizon, also did the reigns of Rhaenyra Targaryen, and Aegon the Usurper

Steffon was right outside your chamber, guarding you like he always did

For a second you thought you were sixteen again…

Only for a second

He smiled softly at you, he found another white armor, that tricked you for a second

“Aren’t you tired?”, you asked him as you began your walk back to the throne room

“A bit”, he whispered, “I bet you are”, you barely smiled, “lord Cregan Stark had taken many prisoners, from the houses that supported Aegon”, he started filling you in, “the ones that won’t bend the knee to you”, you raised your eyes to his in concern

You stakes a claim to the throne, and you had won

“Where are my nephews?”, you asked, and he knew what you meant

He took you there, to the hall at the side of the throne room 

You didn’t notice when you stormed the city, but Aegon’s damage was worse than you thought

A tear fell from your eye as you saw the silent sisters preparing Jacaerys and Joffrey’s bodies

Jacaerys was slain by Aegon’s treacherous guards,as he tried to fight back to defend Rhaenyra, and Joffrey had tried to take flight on Syrax to save his mother, and the golden beast shook him off of her mid flight, he fell to his death in the streets of King’s Landing. And in another table, you didn’t even dare to look, were the remains of your sister, an arm and part of the chest… 

This was the consequences of war 

Harwin was already there, by Jace’s side, you didn’t say anything, neither did him, but you stood by his side guarding the princes’ bodies for an unknown amount of time. Until Cregan came 

“They are ready for you”, whispered Cregan sadly by your side, you turned to look at him and barely nodded, wiping the tears off your eyes

They were your nephews

Harwin stayed in the chamber, mourning the loss of his first born child, you touched his shoulder as you passed by him, he barely nodded

You are going to let him mourn, but you have a Kingdom to rule now, or rather, see who was left to rule it…

A great council has been assembled to put in order who was going to rule the Seven Kingdoms, although you had claimed it when you decided to take the city, you still did not want to impose your rule on reluctant subjects, that was going to lead to nothing

Representatives of the great families, (the ones who were not incarcerated for treason) gathered in a huge table in the throne room, as well as Rhaenyra’s acting council and those most loyal to yours

They all stood when you walked in, and you nodded acknowledging them all

“We have been discussing the line of succession, your grace”, muttered one, and his title to refer to you meant nothing, everyone in the royal House were regarded as such

“Please continue, I would like to hear what your thoughts are”, you muttered, they nodded and resumed their discussions, you took seat in the head of the table 

“Rhaenyra was the true heir”, he sentenced, you nodded, knowing this, “we, as Tyrells, the Tullys, Starks, and Arryns sentence the Rule of Aegon as null and void, and is to be known as the Usurper, your eyes went to the representatives of the Lannisters, Baratheon and Hightowers, their eyes were on the table, ashamed, but nodded nonetheless.

The representatives were now the new heads of their house, being third of fourth sons, or far off cousins from the main string of the family, but those were the ones who were going to bend the knee, and that is all that matters now 

“I’m glad to hear it”, you said firmly

“Now, we follow the line of the succession from there”, continued the same Lord, from the House Bar Emmon, from the crownlands, serving master of laws for your sister, “sadly, King consort Daemon had perished, as well as her true born heirs, Aegon and Viserys”, you nodded, “there is only Prince Lucerys left”

“We can say it freely, Rhaenyra’s three first children are bastards, her legitimate children are gone”, said another Lord, and they all hummed accordingly. Lucerys was no true son of the late Ser Laenor Velaryon, but Corlys considered him as much, and that must have counted for something 

And you voiced that outloud

“Lord Corlys had named Lucerys his heir”, you said

“The boy as well as lord Corlys are on their way here”, said Cregan

“I will offer Driftmark to him”, you whispered, “he will want to say a last goodbye to his family”

Difficult days were upon you, but they supported what you just said 

“So, Queen Rhaenyra had left this world without issue to succeed her, then, is you”, said Cregan, “you are the second born daughter of the King Viserys Taragryen and Queen Aemma Arryn”, he continued

“Hear hear!”, said a lord, and all followed

“through the line of succession, and the right of conquest, the throne is your your grace”, said the old maester

“Right of conquest? And what is that?”, you asked out loud

“You made alliances, you took the city under your yoke, it is yours, My Queen”, said the maester, and everyone again agreed

“There is one more thing left to discuss”, said Lord Lannister, always having to have some sort of control on the situation, it came with blood you thought 

“And what would that be?”, you asked, already tired of him

“When and where would you like the coronation to take place?”, he asked with a sardonic smile

And then it hit you

You were now Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

You dressed in black, with red capes all week

In mourning, and in representation of your house

Your children followed your lead, but as when they were children, Maekar dressed with a Green cape, Rhaegar with a blue one, and Aemma with a red, and walked together, signaling their father’s house

You buried your families under the stones of the great sept, one day, your sister Rhaenyra, and her sons Jace and Joffrey, and the next you held court for the first time

The first one brought to you was Queen Alicent

Aemond was standing by the foot of the throne with your children, but he walked towards her and held her while she presented herself in front of you

She asked for your forgiveness, for betraying your sister, and trying to put her son on the throne, even though Rhaenyra had forgiven her, you were the one that told Aemond to release her from her golden chains

“You were the love of my father that stood by his side trough his worst and his decease, and gave him sons and a beautiful daughter, you were my friend when we ruled together as protectors of the realm, and you gave me my half siblings, you are forgiven, and I will ask of you to remain in court, or go as you please, you are here free to do as you please”, she smiled, as she held onto Aemond, and Helaena that joined you when the city was secured

The next ones to appear where Corlys, Rhaenys and Lucerys, who had reached the capital for the funeral rites, but where now presenting his respects to you

They called you their Queen, and bowed, bending the knee to you, as Rhaenys smiled warmly at you 

Lord Corlys rejected your proposition, but Rhaenys didn’t, now she was the master of ships 

The next day, you let your family, Aemond, Helaena, her children, and Alicent, to have the funeral rites for Aegon, you did not participate, but send guard to held mourning and protect them, that mourn their son, brother and father, in the sept of the Red Keep, and later buried him under it

Like it or not he was your half brother.

Your daughter accompanied her husband, and brought them moral support

And you had decisions to make

You didn’t even wanted to decide where, when and how you were going to get crowned, but rather, you had to select your small council, you had to anoint your Queensguard

They were so many things yet to do

It was overwhelming

You constantly had supper with your family and lord who were still in the capital, and then sneaked into the library to read tomes about King Aegon and King Jahaerys, the decisions they made, the way they cared for their subjects…

It was too much

Harwin had come many times to collect you as you had fallen asleep in the library over the books

And carried you to your rooms

The rooms of a princess

The chambers of the King and Queen had been used by so many people in your family, that you felt strange sleeping in them.

But Steffon, besides finding men to be a part of the Queenguard, was organizing the redecoration of the chambers, to adapt them to you

it was going to be funny, but you were to take the chambers of the King and Harwin the ones of the Queen, or vice versa

But Harwin protested and said you had been sleeping together for 20 years and he was not going to start sleeping apart now, you had to agree

Now, the council

You named Cregan your hand, who promised who was going to stay in the capital for two years, as you named Sara, his bastard sister, legitimate and as so was acting as Lady of Winterfell.

Harwin was the commander of the city watch, as he was many years ago

Rhaenys was your master of ships

Tyland Lannister came back to court, and you named him master of coins

You named the maester from Dragonstone as Grand Maester Munkun

You named lord Bar Emmon as master of laws

Of course Lord Steffon was commander of the Queensguard 

You were lacking a master of whispers, but it was not mandatory to have one. But you thought it was necessary 

The first thing you had to do was unite back the Kingdoms, so you took the vows of all the Lords, and that took whole months

Lords of all the far corners of the Kingdom were to make the journey to the capital, and all of them, may of them

asked you the same question

Who was going to succeed you?

You had many children, but it was whispered in court that the next King or Queen had to be a full blooded Targaryen, to continue the stability to the realm.

Or that is what you thought 

Many advised you to name Maekar as your heir, so one day, after you were fairly settled, you called in your three eldest children

“I don’t want to be King”, Maekar said surely, “i want to be lord of Harrenhal… that was my fate”

“I’d argue that maybe fate is for you to be King one day”, you whispered, but he shook his head

“I’ll mary Helaena, her children are the ones of Aegon, I think is best for me to step down”, you then looked at Rhaegar, who shook his head

“my duty is to my wife, and winterfell now”, he said, taking her hand, they were soon to fly to Winterfell and wed under the eyes of the Old Gods, so then you looked at Aemond and Aemma, who had their hands intertwined, and looked at each other

It was settled 

Your children were Strong and even though they could change their name, there was someone else, a Targaryen, loyal to you, and worthy of the throne…

Aemond, and Aemma, they were going to rule together, they had the strength, you knew it. 

So you asked them to go and live in Dragonstone, as Prince and Princess of Dragonstone.

The coronation day was set, the day was approaching, you wanted to wait for the people to forget and for the capital to thrive after the horrible events that occurred, but it was necessary for you to make proclamations as Queen 

IN the meantime, it was Cregan who incarcerated all the traitors, and judged them accordingly, acting as your hand

Many called it “the hour of the wolf”

The first one to go, was the man from House Royce, who had rebelled against your cousin, the lady of the Vale

His head rolled first, and many followed, even Larys Strong

you Harwin dishonored him, didn’t even buried him with his family, he let them be buried in a common ditch

You understood him, he had murdered your father in law, and effectively helped the green took the throne

Even though Rhaenyra had cleaned the court of many of the traitors, happily for you who didn't want to bathe the Keep with blood

Even Tyland, acting master of coins, was put on trial, but was spared, as he had bent the knee to you. 

Lucerys was named heir to Driftmark, and future Lord of the tides and was set to marry the Lady Rhaena Targaryen, as accorded 

And it came, the day of the coronation was tomorrow, and you found yourself sipping wine in the balcony of the chambers of the King

Harwin hugged you, kissing your shoulder softly

“My Queen” 

“My King consort”, you giggled, “what have I done?”, you asked out loud, looking at the horizon

“You are to be Queen, it was your destiny”

“Perhaps I forced it, perhaps if I had made different decisions…”

“But you didn’t”, he said firmly, “it happened what it had to happen”, you only nodded, “you are tomorrow to be named Queen, and you succeeded, you won this war”

“Daeron is still at large”

“the war is over”, he whispered, “he is on his way, Stark told me this evening”, you barely nodded, “now let's get you crowned before our oldest children bare sons and daughters out of wedlock”, you giggled 

“That’s true”, you whispered

“Let’s name you Queen”, he whispered, “but first, let me have my wife”

You giggled as he grunted, grabbed you roughly and threw you to the bed. You giggled, enjoying this side of him, and he climbed up your body, discarding your night shirt and dropping kisses everywhere he could find.

it was good to know some things may ever stay the same 

. . .

You didn’t let anybody see you that morning, not your council, nor your children, nor your husband, only Aemma and serving girls were allowed in 

thye bathed you and prepared you, Aemond smiled dreamily as she helped you get dressed. It was the most magnificent dress you had ever seen, with a black background and intricate designs in rubies and gold designs over.

And you decided to wear your hair loose, for the crown to be placed over your head with only a single braid to hold it.

“You are ready mother”, Aemma whispered as she pinned the white dragon on your dress, the one you gifted your father after your travels, the sight made you smiled

“Let’s take my crown”

It was like a dream, the throne room was decorated in its entirety for white flowers, giving it a feeling like you were in the heavens 

“I present to you, Queen (y/n), of House Targaryen, the White dragon, Queen of the Andals, the Roynar and the First men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and protector of the realm”

Said Lord Steffon out loud, you walked slowly towards the throne as he claimed all your titles, and you said when he spoke the last one.

In the throne room you recognized all the members of your family, and all the most important lords of the realms

“I crown you with the crown of King Jahaerys the conciliator, hoping it will give you wisdom”, you looked ahead as he placed the golden crown in your head

“I give you the crown of the conqueror, to give you strength to unite back the seven Kingdoms under one rule”, he said then, placing the black, heavy crown on your lap, “and the Sword Blackfyre, to give you the power to protect the realm”, he said then, taking the sword front he maester and giving it to you, you placed it by your side

“HAIL THE QUEEN!”, they chanted all, and it ricocheted all over the room, and all over the capital. 

Taglist! ❤️

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[valleyfthdolls]

Tell me about your mlp au mischevious grin emote

@minxtheeenby!!

Ok I’m gonna go in order character by character and then just fill in extra lore.

Twilight Sparkle: Twilight is pretty similar to canon, but also not entirely. She’s always struggled with making friends, and instead dedicated herself to magic. She started training under Celestia when she was a little girl, but she only managed to earn that spot because of Rainbow Dash, and as such, she abandoned all other fields of her life over time, dedicating herself to becoming the best sorceress she could be in hopes of earning her place under Celestia. However, depriving herself socially was completely hindering her abilities. The magic system is a little more fancy cuz I don’t totally remember the rules of MLP magic so basically as a powerful sorceress Twilight couldn’t actually harness all her power on her own, and attempting to would have driven her insane. (See: Nightmare Moon, Discord.) Though this isn’t like, a death sentence, Celestia didn’t want Twilight’s pure intentions twisted. Twilight is literally the physical incarnation of the spirit of magic, so this would’ve been super bad. Anyways, with her network of friends, Twilight studies as a sorceress under the queen (sorry but my worst enemy in kids media is when they make the sole monarch of a kingdom a princess, she’s a queen). Her style consists mostly of long skirts and dress. I’m still figuring out what kinds of bells and whistles to add to her design (maybe talismans, magical charms, that kinda thing??)

Applejack: AJ has a strong sense of morality and modesty. Her headstrong nature makes her essentially the head of the Apple family despite her young age, and she keeps their business up and running without a hitch. She is also in charge of teaching Apple Bloom, who has been homeschooled most of her life, right from wrong since the loss of their parents, and as such Apple Bloom has been taught very strictly. Though not like. Really conservative?, the Apple family lives a traditional and… “conservative”???? lifestyle. Applejack is loving and gentle, but will never hesitate to correct a wrong when she sees one. Her style is mostly typical farm girl stuff you’d expect. All her clothes are worn out to hell, but she makes them work ‘cause she’s not gonna spend her family’s hard earned cash on fancy clothes she doesn’t need. She’s generally the same as canon, just a bit rougher around the edges, sweeter at her core, and more straight laced about morality since that’s a better interpretation of honesty I think.

Rarity: Rarity always wants to give the absolute best she can to those around her. This generosity has led her to also develop a will of absolute steel, because of how often it’s been taken advantage of and used to cheat her. She pushes herself to extremes to put out the best for others, often neglecting everything but what she can provide, including what she and those around her need, and while she insists it’s an annoyance to be distracted from her work, she needs her loved ones to help keep her balanced. Having grown up just in the outskirts of a major city, Rarity dreams of that luxury and the life that fame would give her. She tends to look down on others who won’t allow her to help them, but her generosity always comes from a good heart- never is it backhanded or meant to make others feel pitied. This is a misinterpretation Applejack comes away with on many occasions. (There are only so many pairs of sleek, beautiful jeans you can get in the mail before you start to feel like you and your baggy overalls are being slighted.) Rarity’s style is posh, sleek and feminine. Her magic mostly utilizes and surrounds use of gemstones.

Pinkie Pie: Pinkie takes some inspiration that I’m not very proud of. You’ll. You’ll see. She’s a former orphan who was adopted following the destruction of her small hometown which itself has some Lore bc that wasn’t just a random occurrence. She was adopted by the Pie family because she was an earth pony, who are generally known for their physical power, and they needed more hooves on their farm. It was less a family and more a business arrangement- Pinkie and the other kids got her hooves dirty helping with their business, and in return, they gave them food, company, and a roof over their head. She was a very depressed child, but she learned to use humor and joy to find a good side to everything, partially on behalf of her siblings. Eventually, she left the farm to pursue her own life as a party planner and host. She’s also known among Ponyville as a reliable and fun (if perhaps not the most conventional) babysitter for elementary age foals. Similarly to with the Pies, Pinkie works for the Cakes in exchange for a place to live, but she really wants to have a family. As such, she latches onto the idea of being a relative to the Apple family, who accept her even when it turns out she’s not a blood relative. She can often be found at the farm when she has free time, playing games with Apple Bloom and keeping AJ company since she’s no good at harvesting apples. She’s a case Twilight cannot figure out for the life of her- an earth pony who either has weirdly uncanny intuition or is somehow in tune with a type of magic only unicorns can harness. Her style is decora kei.

Fluttershy: Fluttershy’s parents were absolutely massive hippies. While most pegasi reside in the sky for obvious reasons, they lived in the prairie, which was where Fluttershy grew up. She was what the cool kids call “improperly socialized as a child”, and as such, she was socially alienated when she began school, and unable to socialize. Her only friend was Rainbow Dash, who was willing to tone down her antics around her and would die to defend Fluttershy’s honor. (They were weird kids.) Despite being bullied heavily as a kid, she believes there was a silver lining as it taught her that she could communicate with animals and helped her discover her talent, though at the same time, she does know that really, she owes that to Rainbow Dash’s kindness to her. She’s autistic and selectively mute due to her anxiety, and known to shut down in stressful situations because of her fear of conflict, but she does have a… “bad side” if you will. She can be fucking SCARY if you mistreat innocents- especially Rainbow. Her style, similar to Twilight, consists mostly of long dresses and skirts, but with goth elements as she’s known to wear gothic clothing in light colors, and dark makeup.

Rainbow Dash: Rainbow is much more actually loyal to those around her. She’s pretty much the same otherwise, just more, again, actually loyal. She especially is loyal to Fluttershy, who she will always step in for, since they’re childhood friends, but really she’ll do that for any of her friends. She fittingly got her cutie mark defending her friend from bullies, as it’s the same story as canon, but Rainbow- unlike Pinkie- had absolutely zero above average amount of magic, and most normal ponies aren’t meant to be breaking the sound barrier at nine, so this actually fucked her up a bit. Just like all the others, this event connected her directly to the spirit of her element, which has made her more magical, but at the time, it burned the hell out of her and left her with permanent scars and wing damage that meant it took a ton of time and willpower before she could fly again. Her style is… I mean I wanna say scene but I know in my heart she’s a lame ass jock. Lame ass scene jock perhaps. Whatever that may entail

Like I said, Twilight is the only one who is the literal incarnation of her element, where the others are just tied to its magic. Twilight’s full power of magic is only manageable when she’s in tandem with the other five.

Queen Celestia and Princess Luna: Celestia and Luna are the incarnations of the sun and moon respectively, but Luna’s isolation inherent to the nighttime caused her powers to drive her a bit crazy, causing her to become jealous of Celestia, which isolated her further, and eventually the insanity overcame her and she became Nightmare Moon. Celestia sealed her away and took on her powers, but all of this added magic is starting to drive Celestia a bit crazy, which is why she called on the elements of harmony, creating Twilight as the incarnation of magic. Basically she needed someone else to shoulder some of the burden to keep her sane, but this weakened her and caused her to lose control of Nightmare Moon. (Stupid name btw. Maybe I’ll give her a different name.) Nightmare Moon is well aware of what Twilight is, and she’s dead set on defeating her so she can harness her power for herself.

Speaking of which, Nightmare Moon is a longer lasting villain, and because Luna isn’t entirely lucid as her, this makes turning her back a bit of a harder task. Fittingly to the themes of friendship, Nightmare Moon’s energy is dispersed among Luna, Celestia, Twilight, Cadence, the other five, and those who Nightmare Moon controlled, becoming a smaller burden they all have to shoulder together so Luna doesn’t have to succumb alone, because magic can’t be destroyed, but it can be redirected. Most of the supernatural villains are evil entities summoned by Nightmare Moon to work under her, who still have a piece of her curse after she’s rescued, which makes them more powerful, and Luna is unable to redirect her control over them because that magic is now subject to their intentions and direction.

Discord: Discord was the original ruler of Equestria, before the horrible imbalance his chaos caused led to the incarnations of the moon and sun (the balance of day and night) being created, overthrowing him and sealing him away to restore balance. However, looking at the pattern here, there was balance before Discord, imbalance through his rule, balance after Discord, imbalance when the moon overtook the sun, etc. This is a cycle- balance cannot exist without imbalance, and as such, that chaos returns once everything is peaceful. Discord is literally chaos incarnate in this AU, and given the rules about incarnation here, he simply arises when the time is right. I briefly considered that maybe once he was sealed away, his magic was what caused Luna’s to corrupt her, but that would make his return impossible. Instead, Discord had nothing to do with that, but when he returns in the wake of the peace, he preys on the corruption that exists in everyone to play along with his version of the world.

Oh also Discord was originally a normal being, but the overwhelming power of his chaos magic drove him completely insane.

The magic system: Magic in this AU has a few rules.

Magic is an ever present sort of energy.

Like energy, it cannot be created or destroyed. It is everywhere, and instead is channeled into the world, directed and redirected by the user’s intentions.

Everyone has a certain connection to magic, but only sorcerers and sorceresses can harness it. Not all sorcerers are unicorns, but the unicorns have the most direct manifestation of magic. There are different types of sorcery that play into the powers and strengths of all types of ponies, but only the most skilled can harness all three.

Different cultures have different uses of magic. The unicorn centric sorcery of channeling magic directly into you used most is primarily of central Equestria. Other areas practice different types based in the magic that exists in the earth such as potion use and production, faith based magic, hypnosis, etc.

All of these are equally magic, yes.

Cutie marks are magic. This is about the most magic within an average pony.

Magical “spirits” such as the sun and moon, the elements of harmony, chaos and order, etc. exist and those who are closet connected with those “spirits” are more powerful. You can create these connections if you teach yourself to embody them. Sometimes you’re both with them but that’s so rare that not even the main 6 had that happen.

Sometimes these spirits just incarnate into living beings and I guess no one questions this.

[outerrimhours]

As The World Burns

A Darth Maul x F/AFAB!Reader Fanfiction

Chapter One: A Princess's Peril

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FIC SUMMARY: Queen to be, after the slaughter of your mother and father by the Separatists, you were cast aside in an attempt at dictatorship by your uncle who claims he is the rightful ruler. Kept in the dark, you secretly seek knowledge to overthrow the crown, yet find yourself entangled in a lustful affair with the enemy, a certain Sith Lord who aids you in the ploy to take back your kingdom. 

Multi-chapter, fem/AFAB!Reader x Darth Maul. No use of y/n. Let’s pretend Maul was cut from the knee down. No canon timeline tbh.  Includes smut.

RATING: Explicit. This work is strictly for those 18+ due to sexual content. MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT.

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 1k

CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: Loss of parent/family, anxiety, unwanted touch (nothing serious),nightmares,  

A/N: Sorry this took forever to get out. I’ve had no motivation, except @eloquentmoon, who I adore their work and their fic made me want to write this.

“Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom”

As if conjured from the storybook of a child, a soft evening mist ghosted over the garden, soaking into petals of lavender. In the cloud softened light, the ivy brings a sweet wave of evergreen with veins of the lightest green. The ghost of vines traced their pathway like fading scars against the Utarian statue. What once was new and vibrant, crumbled at the will of the planet. Pieces of tufa and limestone fragmented. Grass breaching through exposed cracks. At the edge of the clouds rested a brilliant white patch, like a turning page catching the suns. The rest was dove gray and peach nestled into a hint of beryl, just enough to announce the sunset. And tucked furtively inside of a stone wall was an aged and water logged copy of “The History of Utara”. 

 What once was tradition within the Altair family, soon perished with the death of the King and Queen. Before the coronation of a young princess, Druan Altair, brother of the king, emerged from the shadows to take the crown instead. The princess was not to know the history of her people and the politics within. Most saw this change as a form of protection after what happened to her mother and father at the hands of the separatists, but was merely a ploy to dictatorship. 

 You settled onto the bounty of clover and sun strengthened grass, the torso of a tree lending a resting spot. Despite the yellowed pages curling up within themselves, black ink still flowed in perfect Auerbech. 

 Your kingdom was once peaceful and prospering, barely a parsec away from Naboo, who happily traded with no conflict, until the war began. A war that starved the Naboolians and killed the reigning monarchs on Utara. A beloved King and Queen, struck down by the hands of a red suffused blade. A young princess's peril. Although you had been trained from birth to take rule, Druan Altair assumed control under the pretense that a princess whose parents were targeted by the Sith would merely be in danger. 

You absorbed the information thoughtfully. 

“M’lady”, a voice approached, the mildewed book hiding underneath the skirt of your dress. Approaching through the brush was a young Knight named Torent Mozh, who met your gaze, not with a shyness like most guards, but with a blunt refusal to avert his gaze first.

 “The king requests your presence in your quarters.”

 Your jaw clenched at the word king. There were no requests. Only demands. 

  “May I inquire why exactly I am being shunned from my own gardens at such an hour”, you requested, observing the way the setting sun beamed off the shiny armor. You knew Torent long enough to know when he did provide all of the information you requested. Although some of his face was obscured by a dark scraggly beard  that clung to his skin, you could still read minuet facial expressions. 

“We have visitors. He prefers you not be out during this time”, the Knight stated, “You know, for your safety, Princess.” 

Bile rose in your throat as a large, sleek, ship slowly landed a few miles north. Nothing like you had ever seen. 

“Who”, you demanded.

Torent scoffed at the assertiveness. 

“Separatists?” 

“Nothing you should concern yourself with. Now let’s go”. 

The way he placed his hand against your back was soft, yet aggressive, in a swift motion to move you towards the palace. It infuriated you. Yet suddenly panic settled in as you realized your book was still tucked between your dress. Every explicit comment you felt like shouting was silenced by the dread of knowing your secret could be exposed so easily. You were silent, tunnel vision setting in as you walked up the stairs and into the foyer, Torent’s hand no longer pushing you, but eyes still watching as you climbed the stairs to your quarters. 

You had to find a way to return the book to the garden.

 “M’lady, may I retire for the night”, your servant, Thalia, asked quietly as she combed through the waves of your hair. You were usually more talkative, basking in Thalia’s company and friendship, yet tonight you were curled within yourself. Gazing into the mirror, thoughts far away. All you could think of was getting that book back into its creavis. 

“Of course, get some rest.”

Thalia sat the gold plated brush against the vanity, its detailed artwork worn and withering with age. You couldn’t help but regret not taking every generational hair that swept through that brush and knitting it into a blanket. Possibly the last piece of your mother residing in it. The grief drained through you, rather than skating over your skin. It traveled through every cell to reach the ground. Your feet lifting to touch the chill marbled floor, ghosting over to the chest that resided like a dusty coffin underneath your bed. It was painted in swirls of pastel with flecks of gold, as if Michelangelo sculpted it himself. The lock clicking beneath your fingertips, opening to reveal what was left of your mother. A silk nightgown, moon shaped hair clips, letters from your father proclaiming his love when he wasn’t planetside, her favorite books, and lastly, a journal. The journal was several hundred yellowing pages, each gentle to the fingertip, but cracking with age and tear stains. Upon them was the wisdom of her soul; those feelings of love channeled through  great knowledge and a lifetime of meditative contemplation. In that humble ink was the liveliness of her brain, how her synapse danced as if they were young all her days. The journal was forever as pure as a child. A mother who loved her daughter more than imaginable. 

You curled underneath the satin cream colored sheets of your bed, flipping through the pages of the journal by candlelight. Your favorite entry a reminder of the morning you picked berries with her by the garden wall. Laughter and smiles. The way she smelled of roses when she embraced you. You were not very ladylike then and she blamed your father. 

“She has a warrior’s heart”, he would always say. 

Your heart ached with a mixture of mournfulness and vexation, but your train of thoughts interpreted by echoing voices downstairs. Your curiosity plagued you. You were desperate to know who your uncle had brought forth. Unlike your people, who he had easily manipulated during a time of war and mourning; you were less naïve. You had seen the Separatists ships before, the guards loading spice into what once held your finest wine.  

You were eager to spy on your Uncle’s new acquaintances.  

Tucking your Mother’s journal away and finding a robe to cover yourself from the chill, you swiftly gathered a small candlelight and cracked the door. A guard was perched in the center hallway, not for your protection as one might think, but to keep you from leaving. Luckily, shift change was beginning to happen, and you managed to sneak past to the staircase. 

“I assure you Lord Maul”, you heard your Uncle in an overwrought whisper. You edged close to the marbled wall, creeping silently down the staircase until you were able to peer over the corner. Your Uncle walked alongside a slightly shorter man draped eerily in a black cloak. 

“Our soldiers are the best in the system”, he continued.  

Your interest peaked as the man clasped his hands behind his back, humming lowly as if  considering his words. 

“Utara will be a valuable asset to Crimson Dawn.”

You gasped at your Uncle’s words, causing the visitor to turn slightly in your direction. It was such a subtle noise, even your Uncle didn’t notice. Yet, your heart pounded violently. 

“We will see”, Maul spoke, turning his attention to the staircase. Predatorial eyes locking with yours. You had never seen eyes so saffron, so piercing. It frightened you. He was surely looking right at you and you were so frozen in place, you dared not move. His blood stained skin was tattooed with black tribal inks, something you had never seen before on your planet. 

The devil had you trapped in his gaze until he looked away, addressing your Uncle one last time before disappearing through the doors. 

“Do not disappoint,'' he spoke. 

You finally exhaled, blood and air rushing through your body as you huffed against the wall. You were so tense and panicked, quietly racing back to your quarters before you were caught once more. 

[mightyisobel]

Wearing the floppy ears -- A 1910 antecedent to the Meereenese Knot (repost from 2018 r/asoiaf)

Daenerys Targaryen in Meereen is not the first ruler of a fantasy realm to chafe under the burden of ruling rabbits while wearing unsuitable headgear.

You may know that that the 1939 film The Wizard of Oz was an adaptation of Book 1 of a 14-book series by author, playwright, and filmmaker L. Frank Baum. The series was extremely popular and their author became famous from writing them.

Book 6 of the Oz series, The Emerald City of Oz (1910), is a great read. It follows two converging point-of-view narratives with Dorothy on a cutesie-pie walkabout through the realm while the Nome King, Roquat the Red, prepares a subterranean invasion of Oz. The invasion story is wholesome fun, but I want to focus on one of Dorothy's encounters, during her visit to Bunnybury.

Here's her description of the place:

Dorothy now found herself in a city so strange and beautiful that she gave a gasp of surprise. The high marble wall extended all around the place and shut out all the rest of the world. And here were marble houses of curious forms, most of them resembling overturned kettles but with delicate slender spires and minarets running far up into the sky....

But the rabbit people were, after all, the most amazing things Dorothy saw. The streets were full of them, and their costumes were so splendid.... Silks and satins of delicate hues seemed always used for material, and nearly every costume sparkled with exquisite gems.

Yes, Dorothy goes to the land of the rabbits, and lunches with their King (Chapter 20).

And check out what he says to her:

"I've often thought," said Dorothy, who was busily eating, "that it would be fun to be a rabbit."

"It is fun—when you're the genuine article," agreed his Majesty. "But look at me now! I live in a marble palace instead of a hole in the ground. I have all I want to eat, without the joy of hunting for it. Every day I must dress in fine clothes and wear that horrible crown till it makes my head ache. Rabbits come to me with all sorts of troubles, when my own troubles are the only ones I care about. When I walk out I can't hop and run; I must strut on my rear legs and wear an ermine robe! And the soldiers salute me and the band plays and the other rabbits laugh and clap their paws and cry out: 'Hail to the King!' Now let me ask you, as a friend and a young lady of good judgment: isn't all this pomp and foolishness enough to make a decent rabbit miserable?"

So many elements of Dany's desolation in Meereen are laid out right here. The complaint about uncomfortable showy clothes and of feeling confined in splendor befitting a ruler. Also the fatigue with ceremony and attention, all "pomp and foolishness" making the monarch "miserable".

By the way, after luncheon, the king presents an acrobatic dance show for his guest (Chapter 21):

"It is our royal duty, as well as our royal pleasure," he said, "to provide fitting entertainment for our distinguished guest. We will now present the Royal Band of Whiskered Friskers."

As he spoke the musicians, who had arranged themselves in a corner, struck up a dance melody while into the room pranced the Whiskered Friskers. They were eight pretty rabbits dressed only in gauzy purple skirts fastened around their waists with diamond bands. Their whiskers were colored a rich purple, but otherwise they were pure white.

After bowing before the King and Dorothy the Friskers began their pranks, and these were so comical that Dorothy laughed with real enjoyment. They not only danced together, whirling and gyrating around the room, but they leaped over one another, stood upon their heads and hopped and skipped here and there so nimbly that it was hard work to keep track of them. Finally they all made double somersaults and turned handsprings out of the room.

Compare their frisking with this moment from ADWD Dany III:

As the drums reached a crescendo, three of the girls leapt above the flames, spinning in the air. The male dancers caught them about the waists and slid them down...

On second thought, best not. L. Frank Baum was definitely not thinking of topless dancing bunny pornography here and neither should you.

Look, I'm not saying that GRRM was explicitly or intentionally referencing this scene or that we can know for sure he ever read it, without Word of GRRM one way or the other. But I do think the books can be read as a delicious gumbo of all kinds of cultural influences beyond his deconstruction of Tolkien-inspired epic fantasy like Tad Williams's Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn tetralogy. Reminders of ASOIAF scena are everywhere; some of my personal favorites are: The Godfather, The Court Jester, I, Claudius (short version), I, Claudius (long version), and Gone With the Wind.

GRRM has an uncanny ability to remix motifs from across multiple genres, formats, and cultural eras into something that feels both familiar and startlingly original, something with the capacity to constantly reinvent itself anew. It's an ability that he happens to share with the original Wizard himself, an entertainer and storyteller writing over 100 years ago about strangers in strange lands and the magic and wonder that they find there.

What do you think? Have you noticed other elements borrowed or referenced from the original American fantasy realm, the marvelous Land of Oz? Or other cultural references that seem underappreciated?

originally posted at https://www.reddit.com/r/asoiaf/comments/8laanv/spoilers_adwd_wearing_the_floppy_ears_a_1910/

[glorycrownd]

⸻     announcing  the  arrival  of  TEYA  ESTERMONT,   lady  of  greenstone.  known  for  being  ELEGANT,   the  thirty  one  year  old  can  also  be  very  MALICIOUS,  but  that's  just  the  rumors  of  the  stormlands ,  they  whisper  that  shereminds  them  of  a  bare  feet  and  skirts  dipped  in  the  cool  waters  of  fountains  in  the  garden. 

𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ?

house estermont, a small island, under the rule of the baratheons, but even as a small girl teya wanted more. it wasn't that she wanted a crown, or a throne, or even a ruling seat, no. she wanted some sense of adventure.

born as the only child and daughter of alyn and tiana estermont, she had no dreams of taking over their small island keep, she despised having to stay here, she wanted more. she wanted an escape. and often, she expressed such a thing to her parents, and their home, would be passed into her cousins hands, when they became of age.

they knew their daughter well, alyn and tiana, they had her in lessons as child, knowing that one day she would leave them, and it's not for lack of love, but her need for more, they wanted her to be knowledgeable, to be smart and to be safe, if she left them like they knew she would. skilled in more ways than a lady should be, teya could swing a sword like no other, trained to be able to defend herself.

it was just a few moons after her nine and ten nameday, she was packed up, and off on her very first adventure, she travelled westeros for a while, making her way in taverns and her families friends places, picking up the odd job here and there for coin. eventually she found herself in the hot sands of dorne.

dorne became her home for moons, the warm sun, the hot sands, each day was something new and she found comfort with that, she had settled into a life of shopping in the many market places, swimming in the cool waters, her life was almost exactly how she wanted it.

it was near on a year that she'd been in dorne, her three and twenty name day creeping up when she met him, dark hair and eyes to match, enamoured by him, she easily fell into his arms, and then again, and again. she knew who he was, it was hard not too, with the regality of him, and eventually she found herself in a whirlwind romance with the prince of dorne. her home became sunspear and spent her days in the luxuries of dorne and in the water gardens for the next eight years. her need for adventure quenched for the time being.

her travels to the capital are at the request of her lover, and be extension, her parents, who have had nothing but ravens sent as communications, to mourn the loss of the queen, and celebrate the new monarchs, but to also reconnect.

[yourthiccgoddessmidna]

Rei wasn’t like the other forms. She wasn’t noisy about what alternative lives she had… at least that what she told herself. “This isn’t curiosity but confirmation about what I already know.” She held up the crystal ball. “Little magic orb show me how I rule as queen of the gerudo. And if… maybe Banner is there.”

The image conjured up Banner working on a piece of jewelry. Then came loud thuds. “Oh no…”. In the throne room Rei was rubbing her muscle gut. “Let me see if I have this right… so you tried to steal from my people. Thinking you could sell the gems and other materials cause you thought I wouldn’t give food.” The Hylian group of thieves shuddered. Rei sighed. “I’m not a cruel monarch. I will give food. But just so you know. If any of you try this again.” Rei grabbed one thief and swallowed him whole. The thieves nodded. “Good. Now leave.” The guards took the thieves outside.

Rei lets out a stifled belch. That tiny thief didn't even make a bulge in her gut. "Ugh...that one was nothing but a snack." This Rei is known as the Warrior Queen. Wearing nothing but a battle bra and skirt, sort of what Varna wears. There was also luxurious jewelry and piercings all over her body. Also...she is about twenty feet tall.

She then made her way over to Banner, the ground shaking under her bare feet. She peeked into the room. "Everything okay in here?"

[never-enough-whump]

The Cure for Insomnia is Not Being Murdered

Whumpril Day 2*: Insomnia

Summary: In the Dark Castle, Belle struggles to sleep.

*Posted late because I needed the 'fear of rape' tag on AO3 but that's not in the additional tags drop-down list so my phone wouldn’t let me add it. But my wifi is back so I can post from the computer now yay!

Read on AO3

--

Belle hadn't been expecting the Dark One to give her a real bedroom. But she had been picturing something more like servants' quarters - some kind of cot or pallet that, while uncomfortable, would at least have blankets, somewhere above ground that could be heated if not by a fireplace than at least by the day. She hasn’t been able to stop shivering since she set foot back on the dungeon staircase to her "room". She wishes she had worn a warmer dress that day, but how was she to have known? This time of spring was summery and pleasant in her homeland and she'd had no way of predicting that when the Dark One came she'd be leaving with him.

Belle sets her hand on the ledge that is to be her bed and immediately jerks it away. The stone is cold enough that it hurts to touch. She can't lay on that, not with her shoulders bare as they are. She thinks for a moment, then reaches up under her gown to pull off one of her underskirts. She wraps the skirt around her shoulders and lays down. 

The stone is hard beneath her and the muted chill of it still seeps through her makeshift shawl. Belle rolls to her side, hoping that the less of her that touches the ledge the warmer she'll stay. It doesn't take long in that position for the pain to set in where her body is squishing her arm against the unyielding surface. Belle rolls over again and closes her eyes but does not sleep. Every little discomfort is impossible to ignore and she longs to be home in her own bed, warm and comfortable and safe. 

Not that she had felt particularly safe the past several months, hearing news of the ogres drawing closer and closer to her castle and knowing they would kill her when they reached their destination. But they'd been far enough away that she could still hope her people would win the war before it came to that. The danger she faces now, that of the Dark One's intentions, is neither distant nor defeatable.

Belle's eyes snap open at the thought and she rolls again to face the doorway.

The Dark One could just as easily have cleaned his castle with magic. He'd likely done so in the past, or else it would be much filthier than it was. (Unless there had been another maid who had… died? Been killed?) And if, for some reason, he truly did need a servant, why not ask for one instead of for a princess who hardly knew the first thing about cleaning? Or maybe he was playing a political game. There'd been no discussion of her giving up her heirship along with her freedom. At the time of her father's death, the Dark One would own not a princess but a queen, and therefore her entire kingdom as well. But that theory had the same problem as the first. If he'd wanted land, he could have asked for it. If he'd wanted to rule, he could have asked for her father as his puppet monarch instead. There was no reason to make himself wait. No, Belle may have lived a sheltered life, but she wasn't stupid. She knows that the Dark One had most likely chosen her for her beauty, and she knows where that motivation is all too likely to lead.

Belle curls in on herself and wraps her skirt-blanket tighter, as if she can protect herself from the idea. Her ears strain for any sound of the Dark One's approach. But, he wouldn't make a sound, would he? Belle thinks of his dramatic entrance to the throne room - behind the door one second, behind the council's turned backs the next. Silent.

It's a long while before she closes her eyes again. She couldn't fight him off, not with his magic, but she would prefer not to be caught by surprise.

Even when the effort of keeping her eyes open gets to be too much, Belle does not sleep.

She is still awake when the door to her cell creaks open noisily just before dawn. The message is clear: get up. Her eyes sting with the lack of sleep, and she groans at the thought of cleaning all day while this tired. Despite her reluctance, she is grateful for this order that feels like a mercy. At least the Dark One is not planning to make her guess what he wants, only to punish her when she inevitably fails to read his mind.

Never before in Belle's life had she appreciated a fire as much as the one she lights in the kitchen hearth that morning. She kneels in front of it, soaking up the warmth like a cat in the sunlight. She wants to curl up here and sleep. The floor is as hard and stone as her ledge, but she thinks the fire might just be comfort enough. Instead, she forces herself to her feet. The Dark One will want his breakfast, and she doesn't want to find out what happens if she keeps him waiting.

Perhaps nothing, she thinks in a futile attempt at reassurance. Perhaps it would be like when I dropped the tea cup. But far from being comforting, the thought of the chipped cup only makes her more nervous. Belle works slowly, cautiously, paranoid that her exhaustion will cause her to drop something else. The cup was, as he'd said, just a cup. Mundane. Replaceable. She doubts the Dark One would be as forgiving if she broke one of his magical objects.

That night, Belle cries. She'd felt a sort of numbness since she'd given herself up. It had kept the terror and uncertainty of her predicament stifled and feeling far away. But that numbness had loosened just enough for her emotions to start slipping through the cracks. 

Her cries are soft at first, gradually turning to sobs as they break farther through the layer of numbness. She feels worn down and more tired than ever when the sobbing eventually ceases. She doesn't feel better, the fear and misery and pain and homesickness that had made her cry just as present as when she started, but she doesn't have the energy to force out any more tears. She's caught seemingly between states - her body too heavy to move but her mind far from asleep.

Two restless nights turn into three and the Dark One takes notice. 

She jumps, nearly falling over, when he sneaks up on her. "Slow learner, are you dearie?" he asks, swiping a line of dust off the next shelf after the one she'd been cleaning and flicking it into the air. "I'd have thought you'd have more done by now. Dusting's really not that hard, you know."

"If it's so easy, why don't you do it?" Belle retorts. She's suddenly uneasy, reminded of her uncertain purpose. The Dark One has so far left her alone at night, but it hasn't been long enough to prove her safety. She hopes to goad him into just telling her why he took her.

"Ah, uh-uh-uh," he sing-songs, shaking a finger warningly in her direction and not taking the bait. "Don't talk back." Or what? Belle doesn't dare ask. "If not stupid, then perhaps you're lazy?"

Belle reins in her annoyance and doesn't let it show in her voice. "I'm tired, if you must know. I haven't slept well here, if I could just have a blanket…" 

The Dark One cuts her off with a giggle, and she realizes with great shame that he'd enjoyed her groveling. "Is the pampered prin-cess," he says it with a flourish of his hands, stalking around her as he speaks and Belle whirls to keep him in sight, "missing her life of luxury?" he concludes with a sneer. Is this his reason, then? Does he want to lower her status and break her dignity out of some kind of disdain for royalty? It seems too petty, but she supposes anything is possible.

"Well it wouldn't do for your only servant to freeze to death." She tries a practical excuse for her request because, yes, she does miss her luxuries, but he's crazy if he thinks she'll admit to it. However, there's real fear behind the explanation as well. Not for this year, with the thick mountain snow starting to melt, but Belle is already thinking ahead to next winter.

"Yes, yes, I suppose it wouldn't," he says impatiently, as if her simple human needs are tedious to think about. And maybe they are. Does the Dark One even get cold? "Fine then." He snaps his fingers. "There's your blanket. Now back to work." And he disappears in a cloud of smoke.

That was it? Belle thinks. She'd expected to have to argue, but he had given in quite easily. She knows the blanket could be nothing more than a cruel joke. She could return to her cell to find that he had given her nothing, raising her hopes just to crush them. But she had also displeased him three times now - dropping the tea cup, her slow progress, talking back - and he had yet to punish her. Was the suspense meant to be part of the torment? Was it simply that her fear was his goal rather than her pain? 

Or was he, possibly, showing genuine kindness? Could she be so lucky?

That night, as promised, her ledge is adorned with a blanket. She gasps with startled joy and runs across the cell and she realizes that there are two blankets - a narrow mat padded to about the thickness of a quilt and a simple brown sheet. Belle smooths her fingers reverently across the fabric. It's soft, but not the quality she's used to. The beads on her gown could easily buy ten of each blanket. And that doesn't bother her one bit.

Belle wraps the sheet around herself like a cloak and spins with it, laughing and at the same time crying tears of relief. Finally, she has something more than her skirts to keep her warm. Finally, she has hope for something more than suffering in her future.

She dozes in and out of sleep. The blankets have only barely made the ledge more comfortable and she still startles fearfully out of sleep at every little sound. But it's more rest than she's had since her arrival and, for the first time, the creaking of the cell door actually wakes her in the morning.

Her eyes drift back shut almost as soon as they open. Now that she's had this little taste of sleep she doesn't want to let it go. She huddles deeper into the warmth of her blankets. With the addition of the blankets, her ledge has almost started to feel like a bed, and she feels weighed down by the desire not to leave it. If I could just sleep a little more, she thinks, already slipping away from the edge of wakefulness, then everything would be all right. Before she can give into the sentiment and fall asleep again, she remembers why it is not true. She lives on the Dark One's schedule and her laziness would only bring his wrath.

The Dark One is seated in his usual spot at the head of the dining table and Belle's heart skips a beat when she sees the shiny gold pocket watch in his hand. Her delay that morning had been too long. He snaps the watch closed as she approaches and she flinches at the sound.

"You were almost late, dearie." He gives her a knowing smile. "Better not make me regret my little gift."

"I'm so sorry, it won't happen again, but thank you, really, for the blankets, and I'm sorry." Belle sets the breakfast tray on the table and backs away quickly. This time, she doesn't feel the shame of her groveling. She barely even feels the panic that drives her to do it, having retreated back inside herself in something like the numbness she'd felt those first days.

"You're going to do my laundry now," he orders calmly, not even reacting to her apologies. Belle nods but doesn't quite comprehend, thinking he means for her to do it today. "That means now," he says when she doesn't move.

"R-right," she stammers, "but I haven't eaten." Usually, she eats after he does, while she cleans the kitchen. If he wants her to start the laundry now, it'll be several hours before she has a chance for breakfast.

"Yes, well," he says, sounding entirely unconcerned, "maybe you should have thought of that before you squandered away your morning." Belle accepts her defeat and turns to leave. "And don't worry about my dishes, dearie," he calls after her. "They'll be right here for you when you get back."

Laundry, Belle quickly decides, is her least favorite of the tasks she's done so far as a servant. Hunching over the basin does no favors for her back, already sore from laying on stone every night. The wash water burns her hands and her arms ache from shoulder blade to fingertip from the scrubbing. She wrings out another pair of pants and the twisting motion sends pain shooting through the muscles of her forearms. It's too much for her.

With a cry of frustration and pain, she drops the pants onto the edge of the basin and stumbles backward. She massages her inner wrists with her thumbs. For a split second, caught in the loneliness of soothing her own pain, she wishes someone else was here to do this for her. As quickly as the thought comes, she is horrified by it. She should be wishing not to be here in the first place. Has she really, in less than a week, grown so used to her new life that even in her daydreams she can't imagine not being the Dark One's prisoner?

For all that she may have gotten used to it, Belle's life does not get any easier. The days drag on, each as miserable as the last. First the dusting, then laundry, then sweeping and scrubbing the floors, her body never ceases to ache from exertion she isn’t used to. She misses her family more and more with every moment she spends away from them - away from anyone. Rather than grow used to the isolation, she starts to almost enjoy her brief interactions with the Dark One, rude as he is, because at least with him she's no longer alone. She cries herself into exhaustion every night but falls asleep no quicker than before and sleeps no sounder.

When her door opens one night, shortly after she’d gone to bed, Belle scrambles to her feet. This is it, she thinks, the night I've been dreading. She feels oddly detached from the prospect, resigned to it for all that the thought of it had stolen her resting hours. But all the Dark One wants is to talk. To yell, that is.

He yells at her to stop crying, and all Belle can do is stare at him in disgust. Despite being decidedly preferable to what she'd expected from him, the words cut her deeply. She had thought he wanted her hurt and scared and lonely. She could handle the idea of such quintessential evil. To find that her sadness annoys him - that he could make her life so horrible without trying, without even a second thought, and give so little consideration to how she’d feel about it that he wouldn’t expect her to feel at all - is something else entirely. 

Still, a gift is a gift, and she's grateful for the pillow he throws at her. It's much nicer than her blankets but more importantly, it's something soft to lay her head on. Surely such a gift is worth enduring the yelling.

He says the pillow is to muffle her cries, but that night the cries it muffles are not hers. She holds her head between the pillow and the ledge, trying to block out the sound as the prisoner screams and screams from a cell not far from her own. Just when she had started to think she might be safe. Just when she had started to think he could be kind. She has tangible proof, now, not just rumor and fear, to show that the Dark One is willing to torture. Not just willing, but gleeful.

Yet, when all is said and done, Belle is unharmed. Even when he brandishes a knife at her, he doesn't cut her with it. Even when he says she deserves it, he doesn't kill her. Surely she should feel more afraid, now that she's seen what he's capable of, but the incident only eases her tension. If freeing his prisoner doesn't drive Rumplestiltskin to hurt her, Belle can’t imagine what would. With her pillow and her blankets and that thought in her mind, she falls asleep easily.

[mcdonough86whitfield]

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[beasley02conradsen]

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[clancystallings04]

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[pandas-nsfw]

How would the boys react to you in a maid outfit?

*Friendly reminder this is with their Minecraft personas! I don't write about CCs.

Read rules before requesting~°♪

Note: No pronouns used. GN reader.

🧫 Dream 🧫

• He swore he lost his breath the moment he saw you.

• “Damn, is my birthday today and I forgot?” this man is so proud and cocky about the whole situation.

• Makes you sit on his lap or get near enough for him to grab you by your waist, just to explore your body with his hands.

• Chuckles if you try to stop him from peeking under your skirt.

• in each inch he travels of your body, he leaves a soft kiss over your skin.

• It probably will end in either soft sex (if you behave) or in rough sex (if you're a brat).

• “Now, now Doll, you don't want to get punished, do you?”

❄️ Georgenotfound ❄️

• Dear lord- this man is speechless. Loves how You're all dress up for him, don't get him wrong, but he has no words.

• He looked at you from the top to the bottom, and THIS PRICK FUCKING LICKED HIS LIPS.

• “Come here gorgeous, I don't bite~” LIE, I REPEAT, LIE.

• If you get close to him, he will totally grab you by your wrists and puts them behind your back.

• He will get his face close to your neck and leave a trail of kisses.

• Will end in oral sex, with you being the only one receiving pleasure.

🔥 Sapnap 🔥

• This man jumps out of excitement when he sees you. You can see his demon tail wiggle excited.

• “Oh my god, you look so stunning! Is this for me dear?” he is so happy to see you like this.

• He's the one walking towards you and grabbing you by your tights, yeah, your tights, not your waist.

• He will sit on his knees and start praising all over your body while his hands travel your body.

• He bites your inner thighs, leaving bloody marks.

• Will totally end in soft-rough sex with fire play involved (if you're comfortable with it).

🌆 Karl Jacobs 🌆

• He goes all red and giggling.

• “You look so pretty angel~” this man is a simp.

• He gets closer to you and kisses you softly, rubbing gently your waist and plays with the skirt of the outfit.

• “This feels soft... May I test if you feel the same, angel?” he is being such a gentleman with you, wanting to memorize every little detail of you with the maid outfit.

• Soft Sex <3

🌹 Punz 🌹

[Since C!Punz has no reproductive organs and no gender, I'll use C!Punz's HC as a male.]

• Man has a smile from cheek to cheek.

• “Would you look at that, beautiful~ so dressed up... Just for me~?” I swear he got memorized a whole book of pick up lines.

• His eyes never leave your body, specially if the maid outfit makes any part of your body stand out.

• “Now, come on beautiful, won't you be such an angel and sit on my lap so I can appreciate your beauty?”

• Will probably end with you riding him, while he praises and degrades your body.

🌸 Eret 🌸

[I'm aware both C!Eret/Eret uses all pronouns, but I'll use just one set of pronouns for each scenario with C!Eret to prevent confusions.]

• “Oh darling~ my sweet monarch turned into a lovely maid for me?” He feels so proud about the situation.

• Makes you sit on his lap so he can let his hands travel all over your body. Plus, he likes playing with the skirt.

• Leaves a trail of marks on your shoulders and neck.

• “Now dear, how about we take this cute little outfit out of you?”

• It ends in soft sex with a little bit of degradation.

————————————————————————————

*Welcome! Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to request!

[modx-reborn]

Silk ties to bind

Returning my C!Eret posts.

SMUT UNDERCUT! MINORS DNI!

It started as a passing joke that you would never be able to be seated in Eret's court, clothes too rough from your time spent in the forests of the server or just too dirty in general. As you spend hours on end mixing dyes and making messes that stain everything no matter how hard you try to keep things clean.

Only it seemed to make a soft chuckle pass from the monarch you spent so much time with, their demeanour shifting and the conversation dying away afterwards.

Days later it started, the clothes.

New clothes, robes, boots, shoes and even underthings in several colours were delivered to your home, each one fancier and fancier than the last. Deep colours that you know take ages to make framed in gold and silver threads, skirts that would barely cover anything held and decorated in chains, jewellery tucked away in small pouches, each piece fitting for one or more of the sets now showing up at your home.

There is only one person you know of with access to things like this, with the spare income to throw it away on someone else like this. Only there was no reason your mind could cook up as to why they would do this, was it cause of the joke you had made? Was this an invitation to visit the court? Or was this some sort of sick joke you weren't privy to?

Questions lingering and becoming less and less based on reality, thoughts spiralling out of control, finally coming to an end when a letter with the king's seal comes to your door. An invitation to court, with a small request for you to wear one of the items that had recently been delivered, even a cheeky nod towards the more...revealing items being more expected than the others.

On the day of the court, the castle seemed so quiet, attendants rushing away from the main hall rather than towards it, guards talking in hushed voices about this 'closed court', even on arrival things were off usually coats and cloaks were taken and you are ushered to the hall in use but not a single person had asked or moved to take yours when you arrived.

So when the massive doors to the hall open before you, seeing nothing but a small wall of mirrors and Eret is nothing short of jarring, the maid that escorted you gently pushing you in with a soft giggle before closing the door behind you.

"Eret? You. You wanna explain what's going on right now?"

The way they twirl when you speak up makes it clear despite the mirrors that they stood before they had not seen or heard you enter, too lost in their thoughts.

"Ahhh you're here! Come, come over here. And don't worry about anything, I'll explain in a bit."

Their hands are warm when they guide you over, just off from the mirrors sits a pile of blankets and pillows, like a makeshift bed or couch, a small bag sits off to the side tied shut but almost bursting at its seams from whatever has filled it. "Now let's have that cloak thank you, I want o see how you look in one of the things I sent you!" Their hands clap together before reaching for the clasp of the cloak hiding what you wore underneath.

"First I think I am owed an explanation on everything, then ill take my cloak off."

The huff and pout that comes from Eret is cute and ultimately childish but is enough to stop their hands that have started to fiddle with the clasp despite the way you have grasped their wrist. "Well, that's...easy. I just wanted to dress you up, have you dressed as you should be after all you are going to-" their voice stopping short before something passes over their face, "-You deserve to be dressed as well as I am, even if your not a court member, not yet."

The end of their sentence is whispered, their smile shaky and short before they are pouting once again, "Now please can you give me your cloak?"

"The whispering aside, what were you going to say at first the whole 'dressed as you should be'? Eret, you can tell me anything. Your dear to me, if you need me for something you can just ask."

It does pain you to watch them flinch slightly, one of your hands still keeping them from unclasping your cloak, the other reaching out only to be grabbed by their free hand and used to pull you closer. "Do you mean it? That if I needed you, you would help? That you would be willing to listen to whatever I was going to ask you?"

"Of course I do. Eret you were one of the first people to be kind to me, hell you were my first friend and are my dearest person to date. No matter what you could ask I would always be willing to listen."

If it wasn't for their glasses there is no doubt that you would be able to see the way their eyes flick down to where they have pulled you close, only to flick back to the clasp of your cloak. Yet all you do get to watch is as they bite at their lips before speaking.

"Then please just let me take the cloak, and. And sit down, please just. Please."

Letting go of their hands is easy and letting them take the embroidered cloth is much the same, only the way their head flicks down with their gaze is very clear, eyes lingering on the clothing you had chosen to wear. A dress that clearly shows off your shoulders and collarbones, the deep collar leaving most of your chest exposed before cinching at the waist with a belt, when you move to sit the slits of the skirt let your thighs peak through.

"Alright, what now?"

The way they drop behind you is slightly loud even with what you assume to be at least three pillows under them, watching them in the mirrors shows how their hands shake when they reach out, hands gentle when they reach around your shoulders, grasping your hands to pull you back into them.

The way the fabric moves when they do causes more skin to be exposed, their breath shaky and felt as they take in how they had dressed you, even if it was only through providing the clothes. "So beautiful..." bearly a whisper when they do speak, glasses slipping slightly down their nose when they lean forward head next to yours, brown curls tickling against your skin when they turn their head.

"Look at you. Dressed like the ruler you should be."

"Eret-"

"Shhh, so kind, so strong and so so deserving of the throne next to mine. Just look at us, how good you would look drapped in the finest of finery, covered in my gifts...my marks..."

Their voice is airy when they talk, words steadily becoming stronger and stronger, each one a declaration of how good they would be if you let them, if you took up space beside them, ruling with them, letting them keep you and be even more then what they are now.

"God, you don't know how long I've waited, hoped, wanted you to be mine. Next to me, letting me bury myself in you, leaving no doubt for others that you're mine."

White-eyes, catch yours in the mirrors when one of their hands stop you from looking away. "Please, Let me show you what it could look like. Please," it's without a thought that you nod, and when you do the hand that does not hold your face moves, using your hips to pull you further back into Eret's chest.

Settling into Eret's lap brings two things to light, one you are much smaller than the ruler of the SMP and two no matter how you shift or move the press of their cock is hard, a telling sign of how they need you. The first press of their lips to your neck makes your breath shake, and when its teeth and tongue leaving a trail of marks nothing is stopping the whimpers that leave your lips.

Your hands grasping the skirts that barely cover you, before they are taken, guided by Eret's to undo the clasps that hold your dress together, the top half falling away to expose your chest. One of your hands traces the marks that are already starting to bloom, eyes locked to the mirrors still trying to process what is happening.

For such a lieth person Eret is quick to flip the position, you under them as they move down placing open-mouthed kisses down your chest, your head tilted towards the mirrors by one of their hands, making you watch when their lips wrap around one of your nipples. Their other hand supporting you as you arch into the warm mouth laving over your skin, if not for the skirt still barely hanging from your hips, the press of Eret's cock into your sex would be so much stronger.

“God look at you. So perfect like this,”

Their hands are quick to pull your hips forward, pressing harder into you, letting you feel how badly they need you. Gentle fingers digging under your skirts to grasp at your hips and tease against your thighs, fingertips barely brushing against your sex, as you continue to watch your friend mouth their way down your chest proving with every swipe of their tongue that they are going to be so much more.

"Say you'll stay with me. Say you'll be mine and let me shower you with everything you could ask for. Say you won't leave."

"Eret, I-"

"Say. It." Their words are punctuated by two rough bites, teeth marks blooming against your skin as you arch into the feeling.

"I'll stay."

Your words are barely out of your mouth when they surge forward, lips crashing into yours, glasses hastily thrown into the mess surrounding you. The kiss is desperate and messy, like how Eret's hands roam across your body now that they know you won't leave them, and when they pull away their eyes are lidded and breathing just as heavy as yours had become.

It's not the first time you had seen their eyes, but it was the first time you had seen them so hungry. Watching as they flick across every mark they had left on you, taking the mess they had made of your skin before pressing in again capturing your lips before pulling you up and into their lap.

Hands pushing your skirts out of the way, using the grip they had on your hips to grind you down onto their cock, groaning into your mouth as they do. When you pull apart there is a slight sting, as Eret grips your underwear using strength well hidden in their slim frame to rip the material from your frame.

"You won't be needing those, not anymore. If I find you wearing them near me, I'll just take it as an invitation to rip them from you again..."

[cheezritsu]

Haikyuu Couple Aesthetics

Daichi Sawamura: good luck charms, front row seats at his games, the mature couple; “mom and dad” of the friend group; saying “goodnight” to one another on your doorstep, sentimental captions on their instagram posts, eating dinner and talking about your day like you’re already married; making plans for the future with one another involved; impressing one another’s parents; the thrill of doing everything together; being each others emergency contact; sleeping so well because your love is reliable and stable. You two are the timeless high school sweethearts, making the unattainable look so easy.

Sugawara Koushi: cafe dates, doting words, “sweetheart” and “darling,” laughing just from looking at one another. The secretly chaotic couple, perfectly curated dates, being approved by all his friends, soft, sweet pecks; random flower bouquets on your doorstep; kissing away your tears; hugs warmer than fresh baked cookies, grading student papers over dinner, smiley face post-it notes in your bento boxes, farmers market dates, always, always knowing each other’s favorite things; thoughtful gifts, mistakenly being called “Sugawara-san” before you’re married, shy smiles, kissing his beauty mark, a relationship as easy as the breeze. You two are like bees and flowers, working in tandem to create something natural and sweet.    

Nishinoya Yuu: cutting class to hang out in the hallways, popsicles melting in the summer heat, tongues dyed red and blue from convenience store slushies, dinner dates with no leftovers, neon colored band-aids, learning to hop a fence, scuffed sneakers, bruised arms. The lawless couple, squad posing in couple pictures, matching dyed streaks, sneaking out past midnight, pulling pranks, sitting on the swingset in the middle of the night, counting the stars over head. Adoring stares, “I’m so proud of you!”, kissing his bruises, screaming out the window of your car on a road trip. Traveling the world together, video messages, blowing kisses to each other, saying “I missed you!” after one day apart. You two are twin stars, constantly orbiting each other and burning brighter, together.

Tanaka Ryuunoske: shaving his head, mini skirts, being Saeko’s favorite, troublesome trio antics, late night food runs, horror movie marathons, couple gym workouts. The unexpected couple; getting compliments from the eldery on how cute you two are, flipping off his teammates while you kiss in front of them, excessive worrying, scaring off any boys that look at your wrong, the “Will Smith gesturing to his Wife” meme; thinking you’re too good for this world, calling each other “bro” romantically, kissing him after winning games, placing a beanie over his head in the winter, taking unflattering photos of one another with the most sincere captions. You two are the moth and the flame, drawn together by an inexplicable pull. 

Tsukishima Kei: Wool overcoats, headphone splitters, dogeared textbook pages, study dates, strawberry desserts, “This song reminded me of you.” The better than you couple, wearing his t-shirt to sleep, borrowing each others sweaters, kissing his bruised fingers, hiding in his jackets, going to the same university, softly singing in long car rides, always slightly touching one another, quick, secret kisses, height difference jokes, moon-centric nicknames (“moonbeam,” or “moonshine”) trying on his glasses, mirror selfies,sharing record collections, concert dates; weekend dinners at Tsukishima’s childhood house, being adorded by his teammates, dinosaur themed gifts as a joke, Studio Ghibli movie marathons, listen parties as dates, opening up to one another, “quit staring at me” “but I love you;” him constantly smiling when you’re next to him and denying it ever happened. Sharing insults as a love language, being soft when the time comes, humming into his hair as you fall asleep together. You two are a sweet, slow ballad; a duet between lovers in perfect harmony. 

Akaashi Keiji: library dates, meet cutes, book recommendations, fancy dinner dates, proofreading each other’s work, cuffed trousers, trench coats, french perfume, dainty jewellery, knuckle kisses, the academic couple; good grades, pet names, longing glances, visiting each other’s jobs, sharing clothing, reading books over his shoulders, cocooning in linen blankets, the scent of fresh laundry and lavender, running your hand through one another’s hair, smoothing wrinkles out of his works shirts, working around each other in the bathroom in the morning; matching schedules, museum dates, “you’re the Romeo to my Juliet.” “please don’t die for me.” Literature references, letting Bokuto third wheel, being the smartest couple in the room, massaging one another’s shoulders after long days, words of affirmation, sitting on top of his desk, smiling as he edits another page; “are you coming to bed?” ‘quick, secret smiles. You two are matching portraits in a museum, your love equally as timeless and beautiful. 

Oikawa Tooru: alien bandaids, golden hour selfies, matching skin care routines, wrapping his bandages, phone calls to remind him of things, leaning his head on your shoulder, the king and queen couple; listening to each others insecurities, being his biggest cheerleader, holding your face like it’s the whole world, helping him learn spanish, constantly bragging about one another, stupid nicknames in each other’s phones,  “~Iwa-chan!~”, the Seijoh team rolling their eyes at your PDA, threats from Iwaizumi, making promises you intend to keep, being his rock, letting him cry if he needs to, petty rants, keeping nail files in your purse, knowing the real him, framed couple pictures, teasing him with the team; “I have faith in you;” being there when each other needs it. You two are beloved monarchs, ruling your domain hand in hand with benevolent smiles. 

Kuroo Tetsuro: matching leather jackets, red lipstick kisses, theater hopping, chemistry puns, trying (and failing) to get rid of his bed head, constantly handsy, late night drives, cram sessions, lipstick smudges on his neck, “I’m always this kind,” Yamamoto crying in the distance, “Kenma, love us!”, being double trouble, the power couple; better grades together, singing off key, ugly couple photos, sleeping on the train, awful, cackling laughter, adored by his grandparents, stroking your hair as you fall asleep curled onto a too small couch; making it work no matter what, your eyes shining with pride at all his games. Being on the same wavelength, adoring stares while brushing your teeth, kissing him by his tie, making out in the back of taxis, pulling him into a well needed hug without thinking, playing with your food, whispering ‘I love you’ into the crown of your head. You two are immortal lovers, reunited in this life, and all those after. 

Osamu Miya: late night diner runs, lazy mornings in, being business partners, staying up late drafting new menu items, slow dancing in the kitchen, all you can eat buffets, roses before every date, subtle pda; the domestic couple; matching outfits, holding hands with intertwined fingers, clutching your chests with heavy laughter from each other’s jokes, eating half each other’s plates on dinner dates; devouring ice cream by the tub while bingeing television shows, treating grocery store runs like dates, falling asleep to his heartbeat, comfortable silences, long talks while washing dishes, baking cookies at ungodly hours, hanging onto one another’s arms, sneaking away from parties to be alone, tracing patterns on one another’s skin, whispering “I love you” when the other isn’t listening, temple kisses, side hugs, growing into one another, cooking food as a love language, having immense pride for the one another. You two are best friends, falling in love with each other over and over again every day.

Atsumu Miya: neon colored lights reflecting off his hair, open mouthed kisses, toothy smirks, house parties, being one another’s arm candy, diamonds glinting under flashing lights, breathlessness, wandering hands, showering together, black lingerie, superfluous travelling, first class seating, poorly concealed hickies, clinking champagne glasses, “That’s my girl/boy!” wearing his track jacket, selfies in expensive hotels; the celebrity couple, “I don’t speak broke,” shiny engagement rings, paparazzi photos, explicit pictures, red sports cars, winks meant only for you, hands on your waist, matching manicures, tipsy kisses, flaunting cash, making out on kiss cams, holding ring covered hands, never being alone; cheesy romantic texts, only having eyes for one another. You two are wrapped around each other’s fingers tighter than a bandaid, and that’s how you like it. 

[n7punk]

ISoHM Ref #4 & Extra #5: Eternian Clothing and Undergarments

An illustration of Adora’s “bra” from Chapter 4 of ISoHM. The bra is built from heavy fabrics and reinforced with stitching. It is designed to contain the chest and prevent pain from it moving during physical activity, but it is not capable of producing the shaping of a corset. This particular one is a bit more “fashion” focused, so its neckline doesn’t go up as high (AKA it doesn’t contain the chest as well to allow for a little flaunting) and it isn’t as compressed as one made for a soldier would be.

Each kingdom has its own clothing standards and trends, which I wanted to talk about a bit below.

Eternia is in a Medieval-transitioning-to-Renaissance style at the moment, leaning towards fantasy aesthetics, whereas Halfmoon has had a relatively unchanged standard of simple pants and tunics for a long time. Bras, or nothing at all, is standard in Halfmoon and no one wears corsets. In Eternia, corsets are standard with some wearing bras more recently.

Note: bras aren’t the standard bras we think of today and are more similar to a sports bra or a binder (or, more accurately, the original patent for what led to the modern day bra). They cover the chest and a bit below it, stopping a few inches (or centimeters, depending on the person’s height and dimensions) above the waist. They are made from sturdy fabric and lace up the front to contain the chest. They are basically halfway between a corset and a chest binding.

I don’t get too deep into it because of the classic “don’t describe what your character is wearing unless it tells you something” (seriously, it’s a great rule, especially in fanfic where we already know what the character looks like), but in general Adora wears tight pants, billowing shirts/sleeves, and tight doublets. Catra wears much the same once her new clothes arrive. I have some drawings I’ll post eventually, probably around Chapter 7.

Before the war, Eternian fashion was starting to get more billowing (more fabric means you have more wealth) and the fabric was intricate, embroidered, etc. The war has put a standstill on movement in that direction, and it won’t resume afterwards largely because the monarchs and royalty have a lot of influence over fashion, and Catra and Adora both prefer things that they can practically live, work, and fight in, so they set a different standard. Intricate fabric, beading, embroidery, etc stick around, but the overall volume of dresses, sleeves, puffy shoulders, etc all lessens once again in response.

For an outfit featuring a dress in Eternia, typically one wears underwear, a chemise slip (which may be gathered between the legs and more akin to a romper, or open), a corset if necessary for the individual (over the chemise, can be subbed for a bra if appearance is not the primary concern), and then perhaps further foundations such as a kirtle, petticoats, or an under dress depending on the final outfit. A pocket belt is tied around the waist and objects are put inside, and then the dress is put on over it. The dress may be multiple parts such as a top/skirt or feature an over skirt, apron, etc. There are slits in the fabric to reach under and access the pockets. Both men and women wear dresses or long garments such as tunics or jackets ending around the knees, however dresses are far more popular among women and considered “proper” for them.

For a pants outfit in Eternia, typically one wears underwear, and then maybe an undershirt (a “chemise top”) and a corset, or just a bra depending on the individual (corsets are more historical and favoured fashion-wise, but bras are new and have been adopted by individuals for whom maneuverability is more important than appearance. They also can be washed more easily than corsets so they don’t require a foundation garment, meaning they are more favoured in warm temperatures). The pants that are in fashion are tight (all clothes are tailored to the individual), whereas peasants or workers may wear looser pants that might be passed down and simply gathered at the waist, or meant to be repaired and reworn over a period of time. Tops could be a variety of tunics, cavalier shirts, shirts paired with vests or doublets, long jackets, etc. Pants are worn by all classes and both men and women, though they are worn more often by men.

In Halfmoon, it is totally acceptable for women to be shirtless in any situation where a man might be shirtless (warriors, workers, etc). Nakedness is not considered offensive in the private home (couples sleep together naked, young siblings sleep together in just their underwear, walking in on someone naked isn’t that big of a deal). Skirts are extremely rare.

On the other hand, Salineas favours skirts over pants due to a number of races not having legs (or, having many of them). Nakedness is not offensive for a number of finfolk races even in public. Fabric is made from some materials used on land and others that are totally unique to Salineas as it only behaves like fabric when wet and becomes stiff/brittle when dried out on land. Tops constructed entirely from jewelry (thus providing 0 modesty, but flaunting wealth) are also quite popular. Skirts constructed similarly are popular for finfolk races, and even for humans when worn in combination with something covering.

These are just some of the examples of the differences in not only fashion, but acceptable social standards. Though the exact style of tops/bottoms/dresses that are in fashion vary around the continent, most the surface kingdoms have similar standards with Salineas and Halfmoon as outliers due to their different environments. The standard fashion in the Kingdom of Snows tends to be similar to winter fashions in the other surface kingdoms.