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#long story short was that he was a sickly prince from a kingdom on the 13th and got turned into a voidsent during the flood of darkness
sealrock · 5 months
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the major arcana, shuffled: 8/??
DEATH; ⤉ spiritual transformation, endings, transition, sudden or unexpected upheaval ⤈ fear of change, repeating negative patterns, stagnancy, decay
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leth-writes · 2 months
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yandere Aemond Targaryen x reader
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warnings: discussions of sex and violence!
So building off of the idea of a reader who’s a servant to Aemond. But, you’ve been working with another family, trying to overthrow the Targaryens and install new leaders onto the iron throne. You’ve pretended for years to be meek and less intelligent than you actually are, all in an attempt to get close enough to discover his weakness.
In this version of the story, you’re a lot more receptive to Aemond’s advances, being more willing to have a short fling. Maybe you even fake a demure demeanor, pretending to be shy, maybe even pretending to be a virgin just to entrap him even further. You’re blushing and asking him to teach you what to do, all the while you have a long-term partner at home, just waiting for you to return. Sure, it feels bad cheating on the love of your life, but at least you’re doing something for your kingdom.
This goes on for at least a couple of months, more likely even a year or two, all the while Aemond is slowly falling in love.
He’s revealing his deepest, darkest secrets and you’re pretending to care but then going straight to your servant’s quarters and sending a letter right away detailing the whole conversation.
He’s taking you on long walks throughout the gardens, trying to get a feel for your passions and hobbies, and you’re just glad the facade is working. All you care about is achieving your goal and making it out alive.
As he becomes more and more possessive, however, you begin to have the inkling that maybe you’ve made a mistake, maybe you shouldn’t have been the one to undertake this mission.
He relieves you of your duties, making it so that you can spend practically every moment of every day with him.
Maybe you even start to develop feelings, especially after the two of you are intimate for the first time. He’s hot enough to justify sleeping together for you, even if you aren’t in love just yet. Still, you develop a sense of fondness for him.
He begins following you and sending other servants to record everything you do. This is how he first becomes aware of your habit of sending letters. He intercepts one you’ve sent to your partner, and is convinced you’re essentially cheating on him. 
So he resolves to find your partner and… deal with them.
In the meantime you notice him being even more possessive; he isn’t even letting you leave to sleep in your room. You’re basically sharing his living quarters, locked in whenever he’s busy. Still, you convince one of your fellow servants to let you go send a letter.
He’s also a lot more… rough with you when the two of you are intimate.
You chalk this up to the growing sense of possession he has, but in reality it’s just him thinking about how he’s been unintentionally humiliated; who could be so great you care more about them than him, a prince of the most powerful family in the kingdom? He could kill you for this offense, but he finds himself certain he would miss you too much, so he resolves to cut you off from the outside world.
Next time you send a letter, he follows it with Vhagar. When it finds its way to a known insurrectionist compound, he knows you’ve been lying to him. He has Vhagar torch the whole place, paying particular attention to killing your partner, and brings along their head as a souvenir.
You’re just lying in his bed, reading a novel, relaxing by candle light, when he barges in. 
The first thing you notice is the sickly sweet smell following him, then you see the ash, then you see the charred remains of your partner’s horrified face.
You scream and you cry and you rage and you pound against his chest, but he’s completely silent, face absent of his constant smirk for practically the first time since you first met him.
That night, he’s the roughest he’s ever been, and he goes for hours until you’re absolutely incoherent.
Your neck looks like you’ve been mauled, face slack and mind completely empty. When you wake up, you’re chained in the corner, only a pillow in front of you.
He makes you sleep on the floor and stay in that corner until he knows he can trust you, and maybe a little while after that; after all, you had almost made a fool of a prince.
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Madness
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My Masterlist
Pairing: Ivar/Reader, Sigurd/Blaeja
Summary: “I was wondering if I could request an imagine where the reader is a princess and Ivar travels to England with his brothers & thinks the princess is beautiful but he gets teased by Sigurd and his brothers but she can understand their language and decides to flirt with him in front of everyone?”
So I made her Kwenthrith’s daughter because why the fuck not, and Blaeja (Aelle’s daughter) is on this cause again, why the fuck not. Also the Reader might be a tad insane, but at this rate all my Reader characters are idk what to tell u
Word Count: 4.7k (I’m sorry lol)
Warnings: Mentions of rape and child abuse, mentions and allusions to violence and death, my horrible writing
A/N: Idk how I feel about this, I hope I don’t dissapoint the anon that requested it lol. Hope you enjoy, thank you for reading, and ily! <3
Also, I kinda went a lil overboard :/
The handmaid is fixing the coronet over your head when you hear the doors to your rooms open, so she turns to demand propriety from whoever entered unannounced, but seeing Aelle’s daughter with a devilish smile on her lips stops her on her tracks.
“Your Grace.” The woman bows gracefully, and steps back, letting Blaeja take her place.
“Are you ready?” The girl whispers to you, adept hand working at the tresses of your hair to make sure it is carefully hidden under your veil that showcases the delicate circlet on your head.
“You are the one that will be sent off to be married, my friend,” You remind her, chuckling, “To one of those…”
“Lord Sigurd is not that bad,” She interrupts, what for a second sounds like girlish infatuation on her tone. You are opening your mouth to quip on how she refers to one of those brutes as a ‘Lord’ but she clears her throat, and continues, “He played some music for me, the other day.”
“You have nothing to fear then,” You mock with a roll of your eyes, “Maybe he also played music for your father before they executed him, made all of it a much more lovely affair.”
Blaeja tugs at your hair in warning, and you steal a glance at the handmaid that looks carefully at the floor. As if she needed eyes to hear you, as if you didn’t know how she’ll gossip about this with the others.
“Careful, or I’ll ask that you come with me,” She laughs, “I’ll have you sold for two gold coins.”
“You are talking to the heiress to a broken and war-torn kingdom, Lady Blaeja, you better remember that!” You tell her in jest, and she laughs, with that laugh you two share, that laugh born out of despair and loss and uncertainty.
“How could I? Judith never lets me forget what a might Mercia continues to be.” She replies with no little disdain in her tone. After a breath of hesitation, she orders with curt words for the servants to leave you two alone, and once the doors close, the Princess of Northumbria kneels in front of you where you sit, grabbing your hands tightly on her own.
“You are scaring me.”
“There’s no reason to fear,” She tells you even as tears fill her eyes. With a tremulous smile, she whispers, “I heard my sister talking with her husband, about you.”
“Me?”
“Alfred would benefit greatly from having a Mercian Princess as wife,” She states, and though she smiles you feel only cold settling over your heart, dread. “With your mother dead…”
“Dead when King Ecbert, blessed be his memory, took control over Mercia, Blaeja! They already own my kingdom.” You remind her lowly, leaning down so your faces are closer to each other, but this doesn’t dim her smile.
Your heart aches at the reminder of your mother, for her, in all her sins and her scars, was the only family you ever had. The only protection you had, in that palace filled with monsters.
If you think about it, if you sit surrounded by all your sins and your mistakes and your faults and think about it, you know it was the sight of her shaking hands as she looked at them expecting to see blood and told you of the death of her brother that made you stop having faith in your God.
It wasn’t the death of a would-be king at the hands of his sister what made you realize the bishops and priests and deacons and saints were all full of lies, no. It was the emptiness in her gaze as she spoke of walking out of that room a Queen and realizing it wasn’t enough to make up for the pain he -the last remaining alive in the long line of monsters that made up your family- caused her.
It was the hoarse voice of the proud and ruthless Queen of Mercia telling you of the barbarity that took place right under her father’s willfully ignorant gaze, it was the shaking hands that clasped your own and begged for forgiveness that she didn’t need to ask for, it was the severed heads brought in by the Vikings that weren’t enough to heal her, it was the realization God, if he was ever there, looked away most of her life.
You shake those thoughts off, and focus on the Princess before you that smiles in a mix of joy for your fate and bitterness for hers.
With shaky breaths, you insist, “What on earth are you talking about?”
“They would have Mercian blood on their lineage, it would strengthen their claim.” She states, and the disgust it fills you with makes you feel shame. You should be ecstatic at the chance of becoming Queen, at the prospect giving Wessex strong sons to prepare for ruling and beautiful daughters to…to exchange like broodmares, like Blaeja, given to a Viking of all men, breakable daughters to fail to protect, like Kwenthrith, raped by her own brother and uncle.
You remember your mother’s pain. You remember her whispers about the court being filled with snakes, you remember her stories about the women with swords and loud voices.
And you remember King Ecbert’s lessons. You remember his tales about the land where his Ragnar Lothbrok came from, you remember his bitterness at the strange land that captured the heart of a man of God such as Athelstan.
You meet her brown eyes, and force a smile on your lips, because may the earth part underneath your feet and drag you down, you will not wed Alfred.
____
They introduce you to the sons of Ragnar, and you will admit, Blaeja looks positively smitten by the easy smile the blond man gives her in greeting. Lovely.
Judith makes a point of having you be sitting next to Alfred who, blessed be his soul, attempts to strike conversation with you only to be stopped by his own shyness.
You still offer him a few courteous smiles, and thank his kindness when he offers it so. When the Vikings talk amongst each other, mostly about the strange food and customs, you notice the King looks at you to gauge your expression, as if he knows you also know their tongue.
You worry about how much King Ecbert shared with him for a moment, but say nothing.
“So, the one that walked in with your bride,” One of the sons of Ragnar starts, and though you decide to pay attention you keep your gaze on your food and the entertainment going on around you, offering one of the performers a small smile. “Who is she?”
“Princess of Mercia, I think. The crazy queen father fought for with Uncle Rollo and the others, that’s her daughter.” A man with hair that you thought first was short but realized later falls down his back in a thick braid, his blond beard unkept, but his eyes those of an experienced man as they look over the room.
“Let’s hope beauty is not all she shares with that crazy bitch, huh? I would love to fuck a Saxon princess again.” Mocks a man you weren’t introduced to, so not a son of Ragnar, with ink on his face and long dark hair.
You realize too late you have lifted your gaze and set your eyes on him, what is sure to be affront and embarrassment showing on your face.
You lower your eyes again to the table before you, clenching your hands into fists on your lap, but you feel like someone is looking at you, and from the other end of the table, when you peek carefully, you catch the eyes of the one they introduced but whose name you can’t remember, the one with short dark hair, the one whose legs seem to be broken.
He looks at you with a silver of surprise, but there’s something else there. Regardless, you know he knows, and it makes fear settle on your stomach like acid. You wonder if this is what Burgred felt when he was poisoned.
“You’ve been staring at her all night, Ivar,” Blaeja’s betrothed starts, voice sickly mocking. “Are you hoping she’ll look back? Take your cripple ass to her bed?”
“Sigurd…” One of the elder brothers grumbles, clearly tired of it all.
“I’m just saying, he’d have more luck forcing a thrall to touch him than hoping a free woman will.”
“You would know, wouldn’t you, brother? Fucking your slave so she can’t even say no.”
“Who out of the two of us will bed a princess, hmm? It surely isn’t the cripple that can’t even please a slave right, is it?”
You and Alfred exchange a look, no longer pretending either of you don’t understand, as the youngest, Ivar, snarls some threat at his brother, voice and temper rising alike.
Refusing to be spoken of like some sort of cunt with a crown, you speak up, though your gaze remains on your plate.
“Princess Blaeja asks you to play that awful lute to keep your paws off her, so I fear that arrogance is unfounded, my Prince.”
Alfred chokes on his drink as he tries covering a startled laugh with a cough, and you feel wide eyes from the end of the table where the Vikings seat settle on you.
“What did you say?” One of the men asks slowly, and with the madness your mother left you with, you lift your gaze and meet the eyes of the man you recognize as Bjorn Ironside.
“My mother wasn’t crazy,” Is all you reply with gritted teeth, before turning to the blonde that Blaeja is to marry. You don’t know what it is that makes you open your mouth again, but you do, “And I was indeed looking at your brother. I feel for you deeply, my Prince, if you can’t recognize want in a woman’s gaze.”
Alfred clears his throat, what you could swear is a smile -the youthful smile of a boy witnessing chaos- shyly settling on his lips, and stands up to propose a toast and dissipate the atmosphere.
“With this being one of the last nights our dear Blaeja, daughter of the late King Aelle, blessed be his soul, spends with us, I-…”
You don’t listen anymore, taking a sip from your wine and catching over the rim of your goblet the eyes of the youngest son of Ragnar -Ivar, you remind yourself- on you, studying you with a mix of mistrust and curiosity.
You keep your gaze on his, and as you lower your cup from your lips, you offer a smile. His own lips tremble in what was sure to be an instinctual reply with a smile of his own, before he schools his features.
Regardless, he takes his eyes off yours and in his whole posture embarrassment is written. Managing to fluster a Viking of all men fills you with a thrill, a heat, like no other.
The men toast and you gesture your goodbyes as the dinner is dispersed. Before you can make it out the door, Blaeja stops you with a hand on your arm.
“What did y-…do you speak their tongue?”
“I do. King Ecbert taught me a lot before he died,” You state, before frowning in confusion and thoughtfulness, “Before he died at the hands of these men…Blaeja, my friend, don’t you ever stop and think about how strange it all has become?”
Blaeja only narrows her eyes with a growing exasperated smile on her lips.
“I care about what you said to my future husband.”
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” You pat her cheek in friendly jest, making her roll her eyes. After a moment of consideration, you tell her, “Though he may not play his lute as often anymore, I fear.”
____
You wait impatiently by the window to your room, wondering over and over if this is the wrong choice, if you are making the worst mistake possible, if you are walking into the wolf’s den.
Before you can think yourself out of this, Blaeja, with her head covered by a dark cloak, makes her way into your room.
“I didn’t think your betrothed would agree.” Is all you state, dryly, as she motions for you to get your own cloak.
“Oh, I can assure you Prince Sigurd despises you, but luckily, he seems to adore me. Go, and don’t make me regret this.”
With a light laugh you kiss her cheek and dart out of the room, ready to follow the familiar path to where you asked Prince Sigurd to arrange a meeting between his brother and you.
“So it is you.” He says, dragging himself up a couch in front of yours. You clasp your hands together to keep them from trembling, and try to remember all the logic, all the strategy, you’ve put behind this stupid plan of yours.
“I told them to let you know.” You reply curtly, but the Prince shrugs.
“Sigurd could be mocking me. Make the cripple think he is meeting with the Princess?” He shrugs, but it is not nonchalant in the slightest. In all of his fame and vitriol, you notice, now only remains a man uncertain, unmoored, braced for rejection or mocking like you’ve scarcely seen before. The knowledge that you, or the combination of you and his older brother, seem to be a vulnerable point for him is a knowledge you don’t truly know what to do with. You say nothing in response, and with a movement of his head, after settling in his seat, he insists, “Why did you want to meet with me?”
“You norsemen have a reputation,” You start carefully, plucking at a lose string on the sleeve of your dress. “And the crown needs the allegiance Blaeja’s marriage with your brother gives them, so no mat-…”
“I don’t like your roundabout ways,” He states brusquely, and it stops you on your tracks, your eyes wide and lips parted as you stare at the Prince. He gestures with one hand, a frown starting to mar his face, “Just say what you want, Princess.”
“I want you to take me with you back to wherever it is you come from. I want them to believe I’ve been stolen.”
The Prince looks at you like you have grown a second head, and to be quite frank, once the words have left your lips you realize you might as well have. This is foolish, and dangerous, and...crazy.
That’s what they called your mother, not only these norsemen but all of them. Because she admitted what many didn’t dare to: that if she had been born with a cock they all would have bowed and given her the crown she deserved, that the earth would have been easier to walk on.
You refuse to think madness is a bad trait.
You don’t have to ponder whether the Viking will see it as such, for you notice you have piqued his interest, you notice the curiosity at the madness in your request.
“Are you sure you aren’t the mad Mercian princess?”
You offer a humorless laugh at his taunt, and retort, “I don’t want to be here anymore. And…I can prove useful to you.”
“If you say a wife…”
You don’t let him finish, leaning closer and whispering,
“They want me to marry Alfred.”
“And you don’t want to.”
“His grandfather took Mercia from me, I will not be used as a broodmare so they can hold on tighter to my kingdom.”
The Viking starts to smile, wild and yet calculating, the ruthless and intelligent man his fame says he is.
“But you don’t want revenge.”
“They can fight for the scraps of what once was a mighty kingdom for the rest of time for all I care,” You offer honestly, “I do not want to be caught up in between. I will have to give him children if I marry him, and I refuse to let a child of mine suffer like my mother did, like Blaeja did.”
“Are you sure?” He asks, and his tone grows cruel, mocking, like the cat that plays with the poor mouse before eating it, when he insists, “I could make you a slave, sell you. If you annoy me, I could torture you. If you betray me, I would kill you.”
“I told you I was of use to you, though,” You insist past the fear that makes your hands tremble, “I will not be of use in pieces. You and Alfred played chess before, haven’t you?”
He loosens his posture, his expression is no longer so guarded and venomous as he asks, “And what is this use?”
“I’m a pawn they want to make Queen,” You state, and the Viking starts to smile. You knew he was smart; you knew he was aware of how he could take advantage of ‘taking’ you as a prisoner for his own gain. You have a feeling he wanted to know if you were aware of how your position could be played. Like chess, you ponder. “Surely you could ask for a lot in exchange for my safe return home.”
He considers your words in silence for a few moments, eyes travelling between yours as if trying to read your response to the words he has not yet uttered.
“And if I don’t want to return you to your home?”
You shrug, “Then they’ll have a rallying call for their war against your people, and I will be free from these…these nobles and their fucking priests.”
The Viking breathes a laugh, surprised and a little enthralled it seems, but you find yourself smiling back.
You keep careful eyes on the moon that travels the skies, watchful over the time that you will have to return to your rooms before anyone notices your absence. But in the meantime, you enjoy with easy smiles and a light heart the company of the Viking, surprisingly enough.
____
And the few extra days Blaeja can buy you do almost nothing for the plans of your escape -a part of you is certain the Viking has a plan he won’t share with you- but it does let you get to know the man you are asking to kidnap you. A giant brute like the others, that’s for certain, but he is smart, and cunning, and his dry humor never fails to make you laugh.
You find yourself intrigued, captivated, much more so than you could have thought when you made the choice to speak out against his brother during that first dinner. It is no secret to you he is no longer a pawn in the game you decided to play, but you cannot help but think you still are merely a pawn to him.
One of the nights you meet under the guard of the moon, he starts, “I cannot take you from this city, not without an army.”
“I know.”
His eyebrows raise, “And you have thought of a way around that.”
“Haven’t you?” You reply with a small smile, knowing he has.
“If you could go closer to York…”
“Or you closer to Tamworth.”
“We’d have no way to leave by sea. I can’t exactly walk through the wilderness with you, Princess, as you can see.”
You roll your eyes with a smile on your lips, but eventually acquiesce with a nod.
You sigh, “Then I don’t know, Ivar.”
You notice it is the first time you have said his name instead of his title, and you raise startled and apologetic eyes to him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though you notice his gaze lingering on you for a few moments longer than it should.
It gives your still young and innocent heart a shock of hope that you feel all the way to the tips of your fingers.
“One way or another, I will steal you, Princess,” He insistes, and you only lift an eyebrow in response. He crosses his arms, “I promise.”
____
“They leave tonight.” Blaeja starts from her place sitting at your side on the garden bench. You turn to her.
“You leave tonight,” You remind her, “Aren’t you forgetting your lovely husband to be?”
But she shakes her head, “Prince Sigurd and I will marry if he returns,” Her voice wavers, and you realize with a mix of dread and joy she has learned to care for the Viking. She straightens her back and continues, “When he returns from the battle they depart today to prepare for.”
“Against Alfred?”
“Against the woman that murdered their mother. He says they are to take back their Kingdom from her.”
“Your Prince trusts you with all of these things.”
“His brother tells you things too.” She states without hesitation, and you look at her but stay silent, not denying Ivar has told you of Queen Aslaug and her murder already. Many things actually, just as you have told him many things too.
“So it will be a while before you see him again, if ever.” You muse, not only talking about her. It would be foolish to feel pain, loss, fear; you tell yourself. It doesn’t stop the prick of tears on your eyes, or the pit of pain on your chest.
“I will depart to Bamburgh in three days to await word of the outcome of the battle.”
You lay your head on her shoulder, releasing a shaky breath, “I’ll miss you.”
_____
Judith hounds you like a dog and it is starting to get on your nerves. You feel you are being judged and considered carefully for the role of Alfred’s wife, a role you do not want to be in and, if you were to ask him, you don’t think he’d want you in either.
The talks start of having a royal wedding soon after Blaeja weds the Viking Prince, who seems to have survived the battle for Kattegat. You tried asking around, bribing a servant or two, to figure out the fate of Prince Ivar, but you are too close to bearing the crown for them to feel comfortable trading secrets with you, it seems.
You catch sight of Alfred’s eyes on you during a dinner one night, and he offers what you swear is a soothing smile even if his warm eyes shine with regret.
Judith grabs onto her son’s arm and a tired-looking Aethelwulf stands up from his throne, calling for the attention of the clergy and nobles alike.
They announce you as Alfred’s betrothed after a few words you don’t bother with listening to.
As a gift for his bride to be, Alfred arranges for a few soldiers to escort you to Bamburgh, apparently at the request of Princess Blaeja that you accompany her on her wedding day. And barely with time to pack, almost three months after you last saw her, you are in a carriage on your way to the North.
____
She looks radiant, that’s the first thing you notice when you see her awaiting for you by the gates to the royal home. Bright smile and even brighter eyes, rosy cheeks and excitement and joy written all over her posture.
It gladdens you, to know she will be wed to a man she can care for, a man that can care for her. That maybe, just maybe, like in those tales your mother used to mock, there’s love to be felt before the Lord is to bind them together.
And once the ships arrive you will not lie and pretend you don’t feel disappointment, maybe grief, at the absence of the vitriolic yet captivating prince you met what seems so long ago.
You heard them talking about a son of Ragnar becoming King of Kattegat, and you have no doubts as to who bears the crown now. In another world, you may have left, he may have earned a kingdom in what used to be Mercia or Northumbria in exchange for the safe return to Wessex you’d never make.
But you will not let it stop you from finding a way out of this arrangement, of this…this marriage.
The possibility of asking Blaeja to claim you as a permanent resident of her land is there, of course, but you don’t think she has enough leverage against the crown itself to be able to keep you more than a few months. You could simply run away, but you are not stupid, you know you’d die or be found before you can spend a moon in the wilderness.
Still, you are a smart woman, you tell yourself, you will find a way out.
While the dinner -feast, they call it- in celebration for the wedding takes place, a man you recognize as one of the eldest sons of Ragnar approaches you while you sit alone.
You cannot help the pang of fear that runs through you at the sight of one of those giants looming over you, but you still offer what you hope is a courteous smile.
“You have to come with me.” He tells you, and you frown.
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me. Follow me.”
He doesn’t wait for your answer, turning his back to you and slithering effortlessly between the dancing and feasting guests. After a moment of consideration, with a small smile on your face as if it were a thrillingly dangerous game of hide and seek, you chase after the Viking.
He leads you all the way down to the docks, and since the moon is high up in the skies, the streets are almost deserted and you are left forced to guide yourself in the darkness or thanks to the rare and dim light of a faraway lantern.
You still push on, your heart beating on your ears and fear and thrill bubbling under your skin.
“This is where I leave you, Princess,” The son of Ragnar says, stopping abruptly and turning to you. You frown, but he doesn’t step closer so you have nothing to fear. “We will see each other again.”
The man with the blondish and long hair gestures a mock of a formal goodbye, and walks confidently back to the royal home where the party -feast- is still taking place.
You are left dumbfounded and alone in the darkness, and instinct makes you want to chase after him and demand answers.
“Following a strange Viking into the darkness,” A familiar voice starts from behind you, stopping you on your tracks, “No wonder people say you are as crazy as your mother, Princess.”
You turn around with a frown and raised chin, ready to retort, “My mother was not c-…”
But you realize halfway as the words leave your lips whose voice it is, to whom the familiar pale blue eyes belong to.
Ivar stands now, and his hair seems longer and braided in some strange style, even his armor looks different. It seems like years have passed even though it has scarcely been half a year yet.
“You’re alive.” You whisper, and the Viking frowns, affronted.
“Of course I am,” He replies arrogantly, and you cannot keep the smile from your lips. He extends a hand, “And I’ve come to…steal you, was it?”
You don’t answer, even if a part of you is thrilled at him remember that first conversation. You only look at him with wide eyes.
“You’re a king now.”
“Hmm, and I was offered a queen, was I not?”
It startles you back to reality, back to your senses, and you notice the three ships with dim lanterns and silent warriors docked at the sides of the dragon-headed ship Ivar -King Ivar now, you suppose- stands in.
“That’s…not what I meant.” You say, but still your hand grasps at the skirts of your dress to lift it up, and you walk closer.
“Have you decided to stay with them?” And the sudden steel underneath his words, a promise of what you could be at the other end of if he is to believe you’ve fooled him, or gone back on your word, makes a thrill of fear go down your back.
“No, but…”
“Usually stealing a bride doesn’t involve this much talking, Princess.” He interrupts, and extends a hand, and you look at it with wide eyes.
“Now?”
“Why not?”
“I-…” You look into his eyes, pale blue eyes that you saw more than once when you closed your own in these past months, and a breathy laugh leaves your lips, “This is madness.”
Ivar says nothing, but his hand is still stretched between you. You take it, and jump into the ship.
___
So, that was it :/ I have a feeling it’s pretty boring but I’ll hope that’s cause I wrote it lol
Thank you for reading! I would love to know what you think, and if you wanna rquest anything go right ahead, I promise to try my best lol
Thank you, I hoped you enjoyed <3
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fae-fucker · 3 years
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Review: Stolen Shadow Bride by S.M. Gaither
A desperate sister. A cold Fae prince. A dangerous trick, and a spark of passion that might set a fragile peace ablaze… Sephia has always known that her younger sister was destined to wed the prince of the Sun Court. Long ago, the human kingdom of Middlemage struck a bargain with the neighboring Fae that resulted in peace between them. As part of that bargain, one of the two ruling Fae courts lay claim to a human bride from each new generation. As long as anyone can remember, this is how it has been: The Fae come to take their bride on her eighteenth birthday, the humans allow one to be stolen away, and the peace continues. Until now. Until the Sun Prince comes for her sister, and Sephia does the unthinkable: She disguises herself with magic and goes to the altar in her sister’s place. And she doesn’t intend for her marriage to end happily ever after. But Sephia soon finds that all is not as it seems within the cruel and sparkling Court of the Sun. The king is sick. Strange shadows paint the halls of his palace, leaving death in their wake. The prince is desperate to find answers, whatever the cost. And Sephia is the wrong bride, but she may be the right woman to help the prince save his world— That is, if they can somehow find a way to work together... while ignoring the forbidden passion igniting between them.
This is gonna sound rude, but I finished this book yesterday and I’ve already forgotten it.
I didn’t dislike it, mind. I actually thought it was one of the better ones so far.
And then I promptly forgot it. Which tbh is all you need to know. Or maybe it says something about how they’re all starting to sort of merge together into a generic fae-flavored sludge.
Anyway.
Blurb check! Is it accurate to what actually happens in the book? Yes, it’s all there. Hooray! 
Once again, though, the bride isn’t stolen in any way. It’s literally just an arranged marriage.
Like the previous book, Mage Bride, it’s competently written, and I actually thought the heroine had a proper motivation. The hero was the weak link this time, he was just a very generic edgy guy with a soft side, and there were several references to him being “beastly” and “possessive” in the typical SJM fae way, which I just thought were unnecessary and a turn-off, but then again I love pathetic, beautiful and breedable men. If you’re a straight woman who wants to be ravaged by a hot manly elf, then more power to you and your bad taste, I guess. He was also 27, while the heroine was 18? I guess I’ll let it slide since it’s the same age gap as the one in Howl’s Moving Castle and I’d be a hypocrite to harp on it, but it’s something to keep in mind.
The plot was somewhat confusing and the worldbuilding not fully explored or explained. One very important plot point is dropped entirely by the end, which struck me as extra jarring as it was part of the prince’s motivation for going through with the arranged marriage? Like, Sephia being the wrong princess should’ve been a lot more important to him than it turned out to be, because it would’ve impacted his ability to help his people in a very significant way, yet it’s never mentioned and I guess we’re supposed to believe he’d ignore it because he just loves her so much? But it’s only been a few days? Maybe a week, tops? And he’s shown to clearly care about his kingdom and his people? Ok.
The main problem, and I’m starting to realize it’s a recurring theme in these books, is that it’s so fucking short and the time frame is so minuscule that things are rushed beyond reason. Mage Bride at least had the soulmates excuse so it wasn’t as jarring there, but here, the heroine literally plans to kill the hero at first. But then after a few days of flirty interactions, we’re led to believe she’ll abandon her quest (which includes returning to her sickly sister) because of a few hot makeouts with a dude who’s kind of a douche? Idk man.
I honestly don’t know if these sorts of stories can really work as such short novellas? The fantasy genre sort of relies on a longer storytelling style that allows for exploration of the new world the story introduces, and by making them this short and tiny in scope, it’s obvious that the storytelling and worldbuilding suffers greatly. This could be a writer brain/personal preference problem, though, so maybe a more casual reader would vibe better with these sorts of stories.
Still, I keep having a really difficult time believing these epic love stories when they take less time to develop than it takes me to complete an essay assignment, ya know? The quick pacing, combined with how much of the outside details are lost in the speed and focus on the love story, really weakens the overall experience. And that’s before we take into account the “stolen” part and how many of these books advertise themselves as being about people finding love despite how it may have started, a plot type that inherently relies on believable character development and proper interactions that explore different power imbalances and character flaws. It’s just not a very good base for a short love story, I think.
I don’t know how much of this is personal taste and how much is a genuine flaw of the format/base idea of this series. Part of me honestly believes these were mostly written as a way to promote each author’s personal works, which is fine, but doesn’t make the stories anything more than what feels like appetizers for the author’s main course. And that doesn’t generally make for a good story.
Anyway, back to the book itself.
It was fine. You can read it if you like. It didn’t take years off my life, but it didn’t add anything to it, either.
(Also, there are reviews on Goodreads saying this book was spicier than the previous ones and warning teens away from it, hilariously. I guess it’s true, if you also think salt is a spice and mayonnaise makes your mouth burn. They make out a bit and the scene cuts off, only for the heroine to later clarify that they only kissed. So that’s the level of “spice” we’re dealing with.)
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more-pokeimagines · 3 years
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Stone Cold Body [09] - Chapter 8
A/N: Here's the next chapter. A good portion of it is written from Carlina's POV, so I apologize if that's not your cup of tea. Please let me know what you think of the chapter in general! <3
Warnings: mentions of violence & death
Taglist: @piershoesz @alovestruck-fool @shaak-ti-s @spair-m [If you want to be added to/removed from the taglist let me know.]
Past
The days passed without anything special happening. Since their last conversation and his refusal to help her, Bede hadn’t seen Brigid again but he was actually quite thankful for her absence. It spared him from overthinking his decision once again, from wondering what would have happened if he had chosen to turn against his family.
Well. It wasn’t too hard to figure that out: she probably would’ve declared war to the king, trying to get the ordinary people who didn’t practice magic on her side by showing them that even their crown prince supported her cause. There weren’t many sorcerers left but still enough to tear the kingdom apart if they really wanted to – and if they could count on the other people to hide and protect them from the vigilant eyes of the royal guards.
Just the mere thought was enough to send a shiver down Bede’s spine. His father had oppressed and persecuted the sorcerers for so long, killing them without hesitation when he got ahold of one of them, and the thought of their uprising was more than scary, especially since they could probably take out a whole battalion with just a wave of their hand.
With that in mind, Bede managed to convince himself that it had been the right decision to keep faith with his family. Yes, he risked his own life by dismissing Brigid’s offer and it was likely that she would kill him sooner or later but at least, his family would be safe. Brigid was brave and courageous, yes, but she wasn’t stupid, and Bede doubted that she would dare to start a war without him as her ally, mostly because she needed someone like him to convince the people to support her. Someone the nation trusted enough to revisit their opinion about the sorcerers.
Except that Bede hadn’t agreed to help her. And judging from her reaction, she never expected him to refuse which meant that she needed time to reconsider the matter. Hoping that she would give up her plans to take revenge on his family would be foolish, and Bede wasn’t stupid. The fact that she had shut herself away didn’t mean that she surrendered; no, she was only trying to find another way to bring everything to an end.
From a tactical point of view, it would be wise to find more allies first. Maybe she would go around, telling the people the same story she had told him, attempting to weaken the nation’s trust in their monarch, just as she had tried with him. But the people had no reason to believe her; in fact, most of them wouldn’t even listen to her and report her to the guards instead. Surely, Brigid would be smarter than that.
Bede shook his head. It was a waste of time to wonder about her next steps, given the fact that he was still sitting in this dim cell. As long as he was in here, there was nothing he could do to stop her – and he doubted that he would ever get out alive, so it really was pointless to try to figure out her plans.
But, and he couldn’t help but shudder at the thought, it was better than thinking about the fact that she probably already gave out the order to eliminate him. Or would she prefer to do it herself? She didn’t seem like a person who enjoyed taking others’ lives but who knew? Maybe this was her way to take proper revenge for her younger sister, an eye for an eye, as his father always said when he tried to reason the things he did to the sorcerers.
And it wasn’t like Bede couldn’t understand her. If something would happen to Carlina, he would want revenge too, but all of this didn’t change the fact that he was afraid. It didn’t change the fact that he didn’t want to die.
The thought of death had always scared him but now that it seemed inevitable, it was even more frightening. He was still so young, and there was so much left he wanted to do; things and places he wanted to see in his life, and having these decisions taken away from him by someone who was only striving for revenge made him angry and sad at the same time.
Angry because it wasn’t his fault what his father did to Brigid’s sister and the other sorcerers. Angry because he could still understand why she thought that it was necessary to kill him. Why she thought that this was the only way to take vengeance on King Lewin.
Sad because he felt like every single dream he ever had was taken away from him in the blink of an eye. Sad because he knew how devastated his sister would be after she learned about his death.
Sad because there was nothing he could do to prevent the inevitable catastrophe.
*
When Brigid returned, night had already fallen. The full moon was hovering in the pitch-black sky, casting a cold, ominous light over everything. The expression in her eyes was just as cold, just as merciless, and Bede felt a shiver running down his spine as she stared at him through the bars of the cell door.
“Welcome back,” he greeted her, careful to hide every single emotion that was rushing through his body behind the arrogant mask he had worn for most of his life. Most of the time, no one was able to tell what he was actually feeling when he acted like that but Brigid wasn’t as gullible as other people. An amused smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “There’s no need to hide your fear,” she said, the soft tone of her voice a harsh contrast to her frosty gaze. “I can read your face like a book, little princeling, but I have to admit that it’s quite adorable how you try to act brave.”
Bede didn’t reply. There was nothing left to say, nothing left to do, and so he just stared at her and waited for her next move.
She let out a deep sigh. “You had the chance to help me and my people but you decided to stay loyal to your murderous father. You chose the wrong side, my dear, and you will pay for that. Your family will pay for that.”
“I know,” he stated simply. It was time to accept his fate; after all, there was nothing he could do to change Brigid’s mind. She would do what she deemed right, no matter what he said or did.
Her hands were shaking ever so slightly as she reached out to unlock the cell door but the expression in her eyes was still cold and calculating. When she raised her hand to touch his face, he flinched just the tiniest bit but the way her lips curled into a smile once again made it clear that she had noticed it nevertheless. “I promise it won’t hurt,” she said softly, almost as if she wanted to calm him down. “Well, not for long, at least.”
She took a step back, raising her hands in front of her face and pressing her fingertips together. With her eyes closed, she started to mumble something, words in a foreign language Bede didn’t understand, and then, a wisp of wind breezed through the cell. Brigid’s mumbling grew louder, the words now more audible, her hair flying in the wind as she folded her hands.
The next second, Bede felt a sharp pain in his chest, and he fell down on his knees. “What- what are you doing?” he managed to choke out. His heart was racing, every beat sending another wave of pain through his entire body, and he gasped for air. “I- I can’t breathe.”
He stretched out his right arm, trying to reach for Brigid to stop her from whatever she was doing. His hand felt numb, as well as his legs, and when he realized what was going on, his heart skipped a beat. His fingertips were covered in something that looked like stone; stone that began to creep up his arm, coating every inch of his skin and clothes. It felt like a hundred tiny needles stabbing his skin, and he blinked hastily to fight back the tears that were welling up in his eyes.
In front of him, Brigid sank to her knees, her breathing unsteady, her hands shaking. But she still continued the spell, even when she started to cough, barely able to get out the words.
Bede wasn’t sure if he started to imagine things but the ground beneath him felt as if it was shaking, and there was dust falling from the ceiling. A portentous rumble reached his ears, the wind grew stronger for a few seconds as the stone continued to creep up his body.
The pain was unbearable now; he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and by now, it was pointless to try not to cry. He couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. His heart skipped another beat when the stone reached his chest, then his neck and his face. The last thing he saw before he lost his consciousness was Brigid who collapsed on the floor, her eyes closed, her skin an sickly color.
And then, there was nothing.
*
“He should have returned days ago.” Carlina’s voice was filled with concern as she took a step back from the window and turned around to face her parents. Her mother looked up from the book in her lap, her brows furrowed. She didn’t like getting interrupted while she was reading but as soon as she noticed the sorrowful expression in her daughter’s eyes, her anger melted away and she reached out for Carlina’s hand to pull her towards the chaise longue she was sitting on.
“I understand that you’re worried about your brother,” she said, her voice unusually soft. With graceful movements, she brushed a strand of hair out of Carlina’s forehead. “But you need to stop bothering your head about him. He rarely abides by an agreement when it comes to his travels, as you know.”
Carlina let out a deep sigh. Her mother was probably right about that; Bede took every opportunity to get away from his duties as crown prince and enjoy the rare moments of freedom he could only experience while he was away from the castle. It wouldn’t be unlikely if he had decided to prolong his stay in Hammerlocke but on the other hand, she was sure that he would have sent a short letter back to the castle to inform his parents about his whereabouts, just like it was expected from someone in his position. Of course, he liked to break their parents’ rules but when it came to official travels and his reputation, Bede knew exactly that he couldn’t afford overstepping the mark. And since Carlina’s engagement party would happen in a few days, Bede’s presence was absolutely necessary.
He knew that, and he would never risk missing an event like that or make their parents furious with such actions, just for the sake of getting a few more hours of freedom. After all, he was a responsible young man, although he definitely liked to try their parents’ patience.
“But he surely would have informed us if he decided to travel for a little longer,” Carlina finally replied. “Maybe something happened to him. What if he is hurt?”
The queen raised her eyebrows. “You have quite a vivacious imagination, my dear. Who would dare to hurt their crown prince? Everyone knows that your father makes short work of everyone who doesn’t obey the law.”
Carlina bit her lower lip to stop herself from blurting out her thoughts. How could her mother be so blind? After everything that had happened over the past few weeks and months, after everything King Lewin had done to the sorcerers, it wasn’t farfetched to assume that they had something to do with Bede’s disappearance. They had nothing to lose, so they surely weren’t reluctant when it came to desperate measures – such as kidnapping the crown prince while he was alone and attackable.
If only her father were here… he surely would’ve listened to her concerns, contrary to Queen Alviva who was convinced that the sorcerers constituted a threat to the kingdom but refused to talk about political affairs with her daughter. Whenever Carlina had started to ask questions about it in the past, the queen always reminded her that topics like that weren’t suitable for a conversation among ladies before eloquently changing the subject. Most of the time, Carlina obeyed and didn’t mention anything like that for a while.
She knew that it would be wiser to keep quiet but that didn’t silence the voice in her head that tried to goad her into telling the queen about her suspicion. But maybe it would be a better idea to ask her father to grant her an audience. Surely, he’d listen to her concerns, maybe even consider to take action…
With that thought in mind, Carlina stood up and smoothed down the fabric of her skirt. “Please excuse me, mother,” she said, politely curtseying before the queen. “There is something I need to do.”
*
Three and a half weeks had passed since the kingdom had learned about the disappearance of their crown prince. Three and a half weeks in which the Royal Guard searched high and low, pursuing each lead as fierce as a dragon.
Every time the posse of searchers returned to the castle, Carlina anxiously waited for news, always on the verge of tears when she realized that they hadn’t found her brother yet. With every minute that passed it got more and more likely that he was already dead. Even her parents couldn’t deny it, although they still tried their best to pretend that everything was fine.
And then, five days later, two of the scouts finally returned with news. While they spoke to the royal couple, Carlina had been instructed to wait outside of the throne room where she nervously paced about, silently praying for good news. But as soon as her parents called her inside, as soon as she noticed the petrified expressions on their faces, she knew that something terrible had happened. There were tears in her mother’s eyes, something Carlina had never seen before, and even her father, the cold-hearted and composed king, seemed to be deeply upset.
“They have found him,” Queen Alviva said, her voice shaking ever so slightly as she reached out to place her hand on Carlina’s shoulder. “They have found your brother.”
Carlina felt a lump in her throat. “Where- where is he? What happened to him?”
“We don’t know for sure,” her father said. “But it seems that the sorcerers used some kind of spell on him to…” He cleared his throat and straightened himself before continuing, “They used some kind of spell to turn him into stone.”
There was a long silence, then. Carlina’s thoughts were racing; it almost felt like her brain was unable to comprehend the information she had just gotten. A spell… a spell that turned her brother, her beloved, loyal brother into – stone?
“I – I don’t understand,” she finally replied, her glance darting back and forth between her parents. “How is that even possible?”
“Magic,” her mother stated simply. “It seems we have made the mistake to underestimate the sorcerers’ true powers. No one knew they were capable of spells like this. If we had adopted more rigorous measures to stop them… maybe we could have prevented something like that happening.”
The king nodded, a saturnine look on his face. “They have sealed their fate now. I won’t accept this dastardly plot against our kingdom. They will pay for what they have did to my son. Carlina,” he added and pointed towards the door. “Please leave now. I need time to think about the way forward.”
In silence, Carlina turned around and left the throne room. Her hands were shaking, her palms sweaty, even after she tried to wipe them at her dress. With mechanical movements she made her way to the eastern wing of the castle and into her room. By the time she closed the door behind her, the tears were already streaming down her face, and she sank to the floor, her face buried in her hands. How could she live in a world where her brother couldn’t be with her? How was she supposed to accept the fact that she would never see him again? And – her breath hitched in her throat as soon as the thought appeared – did that mean that she would become Queen after her father’s death?
She wrapped her arms around herself in an almost desperate attempt to hold herself together but no matter how hard she tried to regain her composure, the tears kept on streaming down her face. All she could think about was that her brother was dead and gone.
– But was he really dead? What if… what if there was a way to save him?
A thought, a vague theory began to sprout in the back of her mind.
“They used some kind of spell to turn him into stone,” her father had said. A spell… Carlina gnawed on her lower lip as she tried to hold onto the thought before it could disappear again. She didn’t know much about magic but she knew that every spell could be undone. Maybe, and this was the straw she grasped at, this spell – this curse – could be reversed too.
She gasped for air, her heart racing in her chest as she jumped to her feet, not even bothering with wiping her tears away before she rushed out of her room and headed straight to the dungeons where the imprisoned sorcerers were held captive while they waited for their verdict. It was foolish to get her hopes up but she needed answers; she needed to know if there was a way to get her brother back. And the only people who could unravel that mystery for her were the sorcerers.
It wasn’t hard to convince the guards to let her pass, telling them that King Lewin had sent her to interrogate one of the prisoners about the crown prince’s whereabouts, although she knew very well that it wouldn’t be hard for them to convict her of lying. Her father would be incredibly mad when he found out that she interfered in his affairs but right now, she couldn’t care less. All that mattered was to figure out a way to save Bede.
She took a deep breath before she made her way along the hallway. The air was muggy, smelling like death and misery, and the few torches on the walls gave the whole place an ominous and menacing atmosphere. Carlina shuddered at the thought of being imprisoned here, just waiting for the king to hand down a sentence, knowing very well that every breath could be the last. This part of the dungeons had been exclusively built to lock up the sorcerers, although Carlina exactly sure how her father managed to suppress their magic. But maybe they were simply too weak, starved or sleep-deprived to use their abilities to attempt an escape. Hopefully, at least one of them would be willing to help her.
A thought that presented her with another problem. Her father had hunted them down for years now, mercilessly ripping apart families and killing them without hesitation. No one here had a reason to help her; if anything, they’d believe that Bede got what he deserved which meant that Carlina needed incredibly good arguments to convince them to give her some answers. Or she could try to bribe them. But what could she offer them? Money? No, they probably had no use for it, so it would only be a waste of time to even suggest it.
It was only then when it hit her. There was exactly one thing all of them desired: freedom. And with that in mind, Carlina approached one of the cells.
*
It took her two hours to find a prisoner that was willing to speak to her. His name was Emmeric, imprisoned for allegedly killing one of his neighbor’s children with a backfired spell, and although he held a deep grudge against the royal family, he agreed to at least listen to her request. He didn’t interrupt her once, even as she mentioned the spell and that she wanted to find a way to save the crown prince, although his dark brown eyes widened in surprise when she told him that she would convince her parents to bestow a pardon on him when he agreed to help her.
“No,” he finally said, shaking his head at her words. “A curse like that can’t be undone, at least not in the way you want it to. If what you say is true, I need you to understand that most of us aren’t even capable of spells like this one. It’s against the laws of nature to turn a living being into stone. No one I know would dare to even think about it.”
“So you say that it can’t be true?”
Emmeric chuckled hoarsely. “Just because I haven’t seen a spell like this with my own eyes, it doesn’t mean that it’s not true. You see, my dear princess, I consider myself being quite powerful but of course there are others who perform far more advanced magic. And the spell you told me about… well. There’s only one of us who would be capable to do something like this, and if this is really her spell I’m not sure if there’s anything I can do to help you.”
Carlina’s heart skipped a beat, a wave of disappointment washing over her. “I see,” she mumbled. “But thank you for considering it anyway.”
“Not so fast,” Emmeric said. “I’m not saying that it’s impossible. I might not be able to break the spell but perhaps I can mitigate against it. In exchange for my reprieve, of course.”
When Carlina nodded, he continued, “Tell the king’s guards to bring your brother back to the palace. I think there’s something I can do to help him.”
Quietly, he told her about his plans, not without mentioning that it was entirely possible that it wouldn’t work at all but Carlina didn’t want to hear any of that. “If there’s a chance,” she said, “we need to try it.”
“Alright. Then I’ll look forward to our next meeting. Now go and inform your parents. Meanwhile, I shall prepare myself for the spell.”
Even though there were tears welling up in her eyes again, Carlina didn’t feel as hopeless as before. A soft smile flashed over her face as she thanked Emmeric, knowing that someday, her brother would be freed from his prison by his soulmate.
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thesandwichgurl · 3 years
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Stolen Paradise
Prologue
    On a gloomy morning, the Elysian Kingdom fell into a long period of grief and mourning. Their faithful King has passed away in his sleep the night before. His wife, Queen Helena, was right next to him. He was found to have passed early that morning, on a Sunday. His peaceful body lay still and cold as his servant went to wake him for breakfast. When he didn't respond, the servant immediately told the Queen.
    Once the news was out that the King had passed, the whole country fell silent. As the sky darkened that afternoon, dozens of people came forward to the palace gates to say their prayers and mourn for their lost leader. Many of them held candles, a sign of hope and peace amongst them. Others offered flowers and gifts for the kids of their monarchs.
    King Dante was a loyal and faithful King to his Kingdom. The people loved him, even as a young prince. He would walk through the town and buy bread loaves and warm buns to give the poor children on the street. He was frequently seen buying provisions for the poor families, often spending his allowances on them, just so that they could live peacefully.
    After the burial of the late King Dante, his eldest son Prince Noah took power over the Kingdom at the young age of 21. Prince Noah as he liked to be called, was favored by the people just like his father. He took on the same characteristics and traits his father had portrayed throughout his lifetime as King. He was well educated and taught well as he was fluent in many hobbies and talents. Just like his father, he would walk around town, giving out food and milk to the poor. He would often be seen playing music for the young kids or telling stories by the park.
    His parents were very proud of their son. He was a good role model to his younger siblings, Prince Jacob and Princess Hailey . The three of them would be seen helping the poor, buying goods from local businesses to help bump up the economy. Other times, they'd be seen playing sports with the local kids, or teaching them basic education as well as reading and writing. There was one such occasion where the royal children, with a few other kids from prominent families, threw a large picnic for the townsfolk. It was hand cooked meals by themselves and they served it to them for the day.
    The people loved the Royal Family, from King Dante to the now King Noah of the Elysian Kingdom, they were ready for a new phase to start.
    After becoming King, Noah was walking around town, waving to shopkeepers and working townsfolk. A few yards ahead of him, he saw her, trying to buy provisions for what little she already had. She looked about 18 years old when she stepped into the store. When she could only buy a small loaf of bread, she sighed sadly and left the store, nothing in hand. Noah saw this and went to go buy her some food and some medicines.
    He was lucky that the store clerk had not put the items back on the shelves. He added a bit more to the items laid out, frowning when it was only a few more bread loaves and some milk.
    With the bag full of goods in hand, Noah went to look for the lady. It didn't take him very long as he saw her sitting outside her house, playing with the hem of her light blue dress. He walked up to her and coughed, grabbing her attention.
    "I saw you outside the store trying to buy some food, when you walked out empty handed, I decided to buy these for you," Noah said as he handed her the goods.
    "Your Majesty," she blurted out quickly before bowing "You didn't have to do this. I can't take it," she exclaimed.
    "But it looked like you needed it, is there something wrong?" he asked her, concerned for his people. The girl sighed and looked down.
    "It's my mama, he had fallen ill recently. My father had left but had not returned for months, and my mama was the only one being able to provide for me. She did not earn a lot and after my father had left, we were left with hardly anything" she stated desperately.
    "Then please take these, you and your mama really need it. Does she need to see a physician?" he prodded. The girl hesitantly took the bag and nodded.
    "She is very ill, getting worse everyday. But, your majesty, this is more than enough for me. We'll be okay," She muttered to him. The King was already giving her more than she could've asked for and she didn't want him spending anymore.
    "No, please let me. For my people," He told her. Noah opened the door to their house and saw a weak, fragile lady lying sickly on a cot. He walked to her and gently lifted her up into his arms, he carried her towards the palace and immediately went to go look for the family doctor. Once in the physician's care, he went back to the home of the lady and saw her crying outside. He rushed beside her and kneeled, holding her face in his hands.
    "Hey, what's wrong?" He asked her with concern laced in his voice. The girl shook her head and smiled.
    "There's nothing wrong, Your Majesty, no one has ever done this to us. You were the first one to do that for us," She cried. Noah looked at her with pity, he dabbed away her tears and gave her a hug. The young lady wrapped her arms around the new King and sniffled.
    Noah comforted her until she was feeling better. Once the girl had stopped crying, he looked up at her and said, "Come with me to the palace. I'll give you and your mama shelter and you don't have to worry about food or what. I can give your mama a job as well." The girl gasped and started to tear up again. Noah shushed her and wiped her tears. She looked up to him as if he was being serious. Getting the hint, he nodded back to her. She smiled so brightly it made his heart flutter in his chest. She held him tight, and he did the same, hoping to never let her go.
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E·ly·sian adjective relating to or characteristic of heaven or paradise. Family. Power. Revenge. When a family relative comes to visit, things don't go to well for the royal family. Link to wattpad book: https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://www.wattpad.com/story/262263816-stolen-paradise
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Hi guys! This is the prologue to my short story titled STOLEN PARADISE. I hope you like it!
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meteoratheopposed · 4 years
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Can you tell me more about Queen Alexandrea? I find her to be an interesting character!
Thank you, I'm glad you find her interesting!
(Also it's weird just referring to Shastcan's brother as just that so for now I'll be calling him Stanwood. This name isn't set in stone.)
Alexandrea was a peasant who worked in the castle as a nurse for the Royal family. She specialised mostly in treating spider bite wounds and the toxins they sometimes produced. So she was around the family a lot. The young Prince Stanwood was very eager to please his parents and do everything he could to show them he would work hard as king and look after the kingdom. He spent a lot of time outside the castle to do this, thus earning him a lot of trips to the Royal infirmary. Stanwood made small talk with Alexandrea throughout the years, forming a friendship. However, it was only when he was in his twenties and his parents were considering stepping down from the throne when he really started thinking about relationships.
He started seeing the kind and gentle nurse in a new light. He had spent so long preparing himself for his eventual reign that he didn't think much about himself. Alexandrea had been crushing on him for years but didn't try to make anything happen over her worries of a royal/peasant relationship and she felt he just didn't like her that way.
Stanwood started spending more time with her outside of being treated for his injuries. Their favourite past time was going to the library and having nights where they'd binge read a book with candlelight and snacks. After he realised he did in fact have feelings for her, he told his parents who were actually okay with it. They loved their children and Alexandrea had been such a big help over the years. Stanwood confessed to Alexandrea and was surprised to learn that she had felt the same for such a long time. They were eventually married and crowned the new King and Queen of the Spiderbite Kingdom after Stanwood's parents stepped down. Their people loved them (but still complained about the constant Bites they would receive). But the war was soon on their doorstep. They had previously attempted to have a child while things were calm but had no luck. And now they didn't want to bring a child into a war filled Mewni. Alexandrea dreamed of being a mother and having another person to love with all of her heart.
Stanwood's parents, still holding some power in the kingdom, agreed to marry off Prince Shastacan to Princess Eclipsa so the kingdoms would have a better relationship and access to more resources. Alexandrea was severely opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage but she had no say in the matter.
However, the marriage would not happen as the war came to an end. Stanwood's parents, already sickly, passed due to some nasty Bites they had received in their sleep.
Stanwood and Alexandrea once again tried to have a child but their efforts would be cut short after Stanwood very suddenly became ill one day. It was clear there was an overwhelming amount of spider venom in his body. Alexandrea did everything she could but Stanwood, too, would not survive his spider bite injuries.
Alexandrea was now a widowed queen with no heir to her name. She grieved heavily for weeks on end.
That was until Shastacan swooped in. He told her many things. Convincing things. He told her how strong they could make the kingdom, honor Stanwood by improving the kingdom in all the ways he wanted. All he wanted was her hand in marriage.
She accepted, not entirely aware of what she was doing.
She finally became pregnant with Enguerrandol. As much as she was worried and saddened by the fact he wasn't Stanwood's, she still loved him and vowed to not treat him any differently than she would've if he were Stanwood's.
But one day, there was an incident.
A giant spider broke into the castle and attacked Alexandrea while she was pregnant. It managed to bite her and inject its venom. However, Thanks to her knowledge on venom, luck and the fact it was only a small amount, both she and Enguerrandol survived.
However this has given the prince certain… features that made Shastacan instantly disgusted by him. Alexandrea doesn't care what he looks like. She was just glad he was safe.
She hates how he's forced to wear makeup and wear powdered wigs but it's for the comfort of the people and it appeases Shastacan.
And now, nearly sixteen years later, she remains Queen of the Spiderbite Kingdom. She has her two sons who she loves no matter how Shastacan acts.
She still does her nursery duties, mostly to get out of the castle, and hopes to one day write a book on a list of treatments and explanations about spider biites and spider venom to try and help people.
(I tried to keep this as spoiler free as possible but I don't think I'm going to have every little bit of her story in the comic. I also just love her and Randol and want to talk about them.)
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manireads · 4 years
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The Treaty of Reviel, Sangyeon Story.
Era of the New King? What’s next for the Future of Venthia.
an: all links are aesthetic and route to the first post in this au. 
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(Hiyrane, Venthia) - The history of Venthia is a long and well established one. One of the older kingdoms, legend tells that the kingdom was founded by a high ranked knight that nearly died during a war that obliterated their former kingdom. When the siege of his kingdom ended, he found himself blinded and the only one left of higher rank amongst the peasants that had escaped the rubble and dust. Only led by the voice of a deity, the knight brought the people of the fallen kingdom to the new land that would now be known as Venthia. After 100 days and nights of leading the people blind, the knight awoke with his sight restored and was from there herald as the King of Venthia. Ever since that day the kingdom stood tall and the royal family is descendants of that one knight hundreds of years ago. 
Time would pass and we would be brought to today,a huge but regulatory shift in Venthia’s history. With the passing of the Late King Lee Geonsoo, his eldest son, Crown Prince Lee Sangyeon is set to take the throne. The King’s passing was a shock to the nation. Herald for his prowess in battle, King Geonsoo was known for fighting for his people politically and physically. The last war that he engaged in was against the Island Kingdom of Kridora. The kingdoms were once civil with each other, engaging in trade and peaceful negotiations, so the animosity had seemed to come from out of thin air. But it has been rumored that Venthia was losing a lot of money to Kridora and that is what sparked the war. Either way, the Late King Geonsoo was at the frontlines during the war, even though he was advised not to. He sustained major injuries during the war but ultimately survived to see the end of the war and Kridora being added to The Reviel Treaty, sanctioned by the nations Criston and Adraekar.
The King, fortunately, did make it to the resigning of the treaty, but was said to have looked quite sickly after the week long trip to the Island of Kridora, along with other monarchs. Three days later, the sorrowful news of his passing would make headlines, and The West Levans Royal Castle would be draped in black. The funeral proceedings lasted for almost two weeks as the King was well loved and respected by his people. All of the royal family were in attendance for every event, most importantly the Crown Prince Sangyeon who was now set to be king. In a most memorable speech, the crown prince spoke on his father’s life and triumphs stating, “He [King Geonsoo] has always loved his people and has done everything he could to protect and enrich their lives in Venthia.” and goes on to ask them to “... Stay with him in this difficult time and he will usher in a new era for Venthia and it’s future.” Which was nice to see after his first few speeches brought criticism for its rather messy delivery and his stiff demeanor. He reassured the public that he was ready to take the throne and the title as the new king. 
It seems quite premature and ill-mannered to speak on anything but this shocking event but people have already started looking ahead to the future of this nation. Talks of the royal proceedings surrounding the crown prince’s inauguration have been going around as photographers have spotted large trucks moving in and out of the castle grounds. One even happened to capture workers moving large crates from the Venthian Archives. This could very well be the armor of the first King of Venthia which is to be worn by the king to be during the one of the ceremonies in which Crown Prince Sangyeon will be blessed by religious leaders and connect with all the kings before him. This is a private event and only the royal family and invited guests are allowed to see this honor bestowed on the prince. 
The list of those attending has reportedly leaked and is quite short and very high profile. It will be of no surprise that The Duke and Duchess of Oxenfield, Castlemere, and Eldernmire respectively would be in attendance, and then other dignitaries of the royal family. But the most exciting would have to be Duke of Millshire and his family. That would include his eldest daughter who is betrothed to the crown prince. The arrangement has been since the pair's birth and the two haven’t been seen together much, except for during royal gatherings. But she along with her family were seated very close to the royal family during the king’s funeral. She was even spotted wearing the Royal Crest of Venthia, along with Crown Prince Sangyeon, during that time. The L/N family have been staying in the capital, close to the royal family, since then at the Withall Manor, which has famously housed families of soon to be royals for years now. We’ve even spotted the family leaving West Levans, after what could have very well been a private dinner and the Prince and Duchess, taking the title of her own late mother years prior, sharing a tender moment before he sent them off. It has been quite nice to see the future King and Queen of Venthia in the public but one can only wish we could see them more. I know it must be a difficult time for them, but the smile the couple could put on the faces of the Venthian People would be well worth it. 
The time has come for Venthia to herald it’s new king but there is so much that must happen before we ever return to a sense of normalcy in this nation. Tell us, how do you like the pairing of the future king and queen? Who do you think will be designing the royal wedding dress? Do you think Crown Prince Sangyeon is truly ready to take his father’s place?
                                                (Adrienne Othens, The Hiryane Times)
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arahul-abyssia · 4 years
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The Endless Cycle
My second story for @starprincesshlc and @jklantern ’s Nintember event! This one sees another entry in story as ancient as a certain kingdom, but there’s... well, let’s say a few twists...
~~ Treasure, Sword, Adversity, Growth, Evil ~~
All his hard work was being undone right in front of him. As far as the eye could see, the storms were clearing and the waters were brightening, the mountains were becoming calm again and the trees were regaining all their bright colors. The day before, the shadowy miasmas that emanated from his fortress were spread from border to border across the kingdom; now, all that remained of them was a thin mist around the walls, and they were still visibly receding as the sun shone brighter and brighter. It was clear to him that his defeat was fast approaching.
Hmph. As if that’s at all surprising… 
He was no mere would-be conqueror of the Kingdom of Hyrule; he was Ganondorf, one of a long series of incarnations of the ancient Curse of Demise, and it was his destiny to fight against and be defeated by one who bears the Spirit of the Hero and wields the Master Sword and one who carries the Blood of the Goddess. Such was their never ending cycle. Such was the way it always had been, was, and always would be.
It was not as though he had not tried to find an alternate route, but no creature can win against the hands of fate. He had tried to cast aside the shadows that lingered around him wherever he went, he had tried to guide away the monsters that watched him from the wilderness, following him in hardly-veiled secret and prostrating themselves before him when no civilized creature was looking, and he had tried to ignore the dark impulses within him that told him to bring destruction and ruin to the land.
He had tried, and he had failed. Eventually, he realized that it was no use trying to avoid his fate, and so set about casting his incarnation of terror upon Hyrule, so that a Hero and Princess may arise and bring his downfall. If he could not have peace in life, perhaps there was peace in death, or banishment, or being sealed away or turned to stone, or whatever his incarnation of defeat was to be.
To some extent, he regretted the problems he had caused. He knew firsthand the consequences of using tainted waters and having one’s home and shelter destroyed. Were things truly up to him, not one of his blights would ever have been manifested. But, fate and the Curse had other plans for him and the kingdom, and he could only hope that, after they brought his downfall, the Hero and Princess could make things right again.
The steadily loudening tapping of boots upon stone told him that his adversaries had passed every obstacle he had laid for them within the fortress and were now rapidly ascending the wholly unblocked spiraling stairwell that led to his room at the top of the highest tower.
In five… four… three… two… one…
With much unnecessary force, the door to the chamber burst open, revealing the two who were to be his end, their eyes filled with the fires of determination and quiet-yet-righteous fury. In the Hero’s hand, the legendary Master Sword, glowing with a power that could banish and strike down all evil that dared cross its path, and in the Princess’s hand, the mythical Bow of Light, glowing with a divine radiance that could pierce the shadows themselves.
“So, the saviors of Hyrule have finally arrived… to defeat the source of the evil that plagued your land, to bring about the return of peace and prosperity, to—”
An arrow of light grazed his shoulder, exploding into a gleam burst upon the wall behind him.
“Cut the crap, Ganondorf! We didn’t just march our way through your uninventive puzzles and rehashes of dungeon protectors for you to spew some fancy words about what we already know. Shut up and ready your weapons already so we can fight you and defeat you!”
Ganondorf closed his eyes and sighed. It seemed this Princess Zelda had not changed in the slightest. He had come across her once before, on a trip to the castle in the early days of his fall to the darkness. He did not remember the exact details of the event, but he remembered vividly that she did not care one bit to act like royalty, much less one who is said to hold divinity in her veins. Her gait was casual, her language was coarse, and she had nearly no respect for the norms of nobility. Though she cared for her subjects, no one would think her a princess if not for prior knowledge or her clothing.
“If that’s the way you want it, so be it.” He thrust his hands out to his sides, a double-ended trident materializing in his right and a long curved blade in his left, then moved into a fighting stance. Though he had no formal training whatsoever with one-handed wielding or dual-wielding, something told him that he would find no struggle in doing either.
The two heroes shifted their stances as well, and their battle began. The dark powers within him allowed Ganondorf to shift through the shadows in the room, throwing blasts of dark energy at his opponents between profanely empowered strikes of his weapons. However, their skills and coordination far outmatched his own, and within a short few minutes, he could feel their blows beginning to take their toll. He felt a change in his darkness, as though the curse itself demanded a change in his tactics and spells, and he moved to the room’s center, taking a defensive position and wreathing himself in shadows.
“It seems you two are quite powerful indeed. What a shame it is that we must fight…”
“If you’re so uninvested in this battle, why not just admit defeat now and make this a whole lot easier on all of us?”
Ganondorf began channeling dark energy into a great sphere of shadow. “Because fate does not work that way… I have no choice but to stand before you two as your enemy, in another incarnation of the eternal cycle. No Link, no Zelda, and no Ganon in all history could avoid their place in their incarnation, and each and every time, no matter what it put before the heroes, the darkness always fell to the light in a climactic final confrontation. Why should our story be any different?”
Zelda braced herself to dodge or deflect the attack.
“...It already is…”
This was enough to give them both pause. The dark warrior dismissed his spell and the princess loosened her posture as both turned to stare at the latter’s companion, his infamous silence broken.
“What do you mean ‘it already is’?”
“Our story… is very different… from the legends…” It was clear to Ganondorf that this Link was not accustomed to speaking longer thoughts or giving extended explanations. “Like… our bodies… we are not… what the legends… say we should be.”
The boy gestured at the three in the room. The dark wizard looked down at himself instinctually, realizing that the boy was right; in the legends, the Hero and Princess were Hylians, and Ganondorf a Gerudo, with flaming orange hair and skin tinted a sickly green by the evil within. But it was he who was Hylian now, with untouched dark skin and hair the color of the night sky, and his adversaries showed no signs of Hylian blood; the boy before him held the Master Sword in a scaled, clawed, webbed hand, a trademark trait of the Zora alongside the fish-like tail attached to each of their heads, and the girl glared at him down a beak that could only belong to a Rito, her bow held in hands that much resembled the feathers on her wings.
“And… the legends… have little technology… compared to now. Even the times of the Divine Beasts… we have so much more than them.” He turned his head to look out the window at the sprawling Kodai City, its staggering towers glowing with blue and orange lights. Even Ganondorf’s own fortress and tower incorporated some amount of the splendors of Sheikah technology.
But it doesn’t matter… It can’t matter… right?
“So what if things are a bit different from the legends? That doesn’t change the fact that there’s an evil person, right in front of us, that we need to defeat, so things can go back to normal! I’m getting tired of having to be ‘Zelda.’”
Ganondorf stared at the girl. If her name wasn’t actually Zelda, then that meant that—
“Don’t give me that look! I’ll bet your name isn’t even Ganondorf! Mine certainly isn’t ‘Zelda’, and his isn’t ‘Link’!”
The Princess was correct; he had taken the name as a sort of title when he realized what his purpose was, what the shadows of fate wished him to do. It hadn’t crossed his mind that the same would apply to the two sent to defeat him.
“Ugh… now that you’ve mentioned this, all I can think about is all the other stuff you’ve told me from those musty old books of yours. Wasn’t there something about a previous incarnation having the genders or roles all mixed up, or whatever?”
“Yes… one version of ‘Zelda’ was a prince, and his ‘Link’ was a girl. Another one had a Hero who only wielded the Bow, and the Princess held this Sword.”
“And no one talks about this?!”
“People don’t like to talk about the legends these days… they think it’s dwelling on the past…”
The dark wizard stared in awe as his adversaries discussed the history of the Curse, and the many apparent changes from the very first legends that far preceded his own oddities. If the Curse had deteriorated so, then perhaps…
Perhaps I do have a chance… 
The two turned their attention back to Ganondorf. Perhaps they had come to the decision on their own, or perhaps they saw some change in his eyes or posture, but they began to approach him, Link slowly extending his hand. “So, Ganondorf… would you like to return to the light?”
“Obviously you won’t be forgiven immediately. There’ll be a long list of reparations for you to do, since, you know, you blighted every single region in the kingdom and caused harm to countless innocents, and those reparations mean a lot paperwork for me, which I really don’t want to do…” she stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, “...but I was taught to try to avoid solutions that involve violence and murder, so if that’s the trade off, I am all for it.”
Maybe it was as though they had pierced and torn down a veil in his mind, or perhaps flipped a switch he thought broken beyond repair, but he, almost without thinking, stretched out his own hand to the Hero’s, prepared to join them in a life of light.
And then a burning pain filled his chest.
Surprise and panic filled the eyes of the two before him, the Hero’s hand faltering. As a fiery haze began to build in his vision, he was dimly aware of the wreathing shadows beginning to writhe, not only covering his flesh and clothing, but passing into them, too. He collapsed to his knees, dimly aware of Zelda shouting something at Link and him responding frantically in return, but in far too much agony to properly comprehend it.
You will not escape your destiny.
The voice that filled his mind was old and cruel, like the very concept of darkness and evil given a voice. He tried to shut it out, but it wriggled its way through every tiny weakness in his defenses, growing ever louder and drowning out the shouts of the youths. Now on all fours, he lifted his hand toward them one final and desperate time, then collapsed as a golden light, brighter than anything he had ever seen, shone before him, and the haze and voice gave way to utter silence.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When his senses returned to him, Ganondorf found himself lying prone on the stone floor of the chamber, his head aching. After a few seconds, he attempted to push himself up, but he found that his limbs felt far weaker than they had only moments ago. He tried and failed several more times before other hands, two far smoother than his and two far softer, pulled him into an upright position on his knees. Slowly, he looked up, and found two familiar faces staring back at him, their mouths twisted in bright smiles that anyone could mistake for mocking glee.
“What… what… just happened to me?”
“Well, if the dark stormy figure outside is anything to go by, I’d say we just expelled the shadows from you.”
“...Stormy figure?”
The two proceeded to duck under his arms and lift him to a proper upright posture, supporting him on their shoulders, then guide him onto the tower’s balcony. Above it was a great storm made of darkness, shadows, and evil he could feel permeating the air. A black whirlwind twisted down from it to the field below, where at its base stood a humanoid form with glowing red eyes, glaring up at the three in the tower with nothing but hatred and malice.
Ganondorf looked between the two. “But… how?”
At this, Link and Zelda merely smiled and pointed to his hand. On each of the three was a fading golden triangle composed of three smaller ones.
“The power of the treasure of the Golden Goddesses... the legendary Triforce… it can work miracles when united, and directed, toward a common goal…”
“Most think the power is lost, buuut the versions of us seem to have a knack for stumbling across it again and again and again.”
The former dark wizard looked from his hands, to those of the heroes, to the heroes’ faces, to the storm, to his hands again. He felt like his mind was trying to process this sudden turn of events at high speed while he couldn't even think at normal speeds, and having weakened limbs and a lingering headache was far from helpful.
“Alright, rest here, you’re way too weak to help us in this fight right now--Link, come on, we have an ancient evil to defeat, once and for all!”
And as the two vaulted off the balcony and glided to the field below, Ganondorf--no, that was no longer his name or title--the newly purified man could not help but let his face drift into a peaceful, genuine smile.
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ironforgedrp · 4 years
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♛   AELYN FLORENT
↳ details; female, 25, born on the twelfth day of the sixth month on 481 AC. ↳ status; heterosexual, betrothed, no children. ↳ faceclaim; synnove karlsen. ↳ hails from; the arbor, brightwater keep, the reach. ↳ loyalty; house redwyne, house tyrell.
↳ position/title; eldest daughter of lord florent, ward of house redwyne. ↳ religion; faith of the seven. ↳ magical ability; none. ↳ spoken languages; common tongue. ↳ reason for being in sunspear; to meet her betrothed, prince cedric tyrell.
♛   PERSONALITY
↳ type; enfj-a (protagonist). ↳ alignment; lawful good. ↳ star sign; gemini. ↳ positives; caring, charismatic, altruistic, social, intelligent, adaptable. ↳ negatives; overly idealistic, too selfless, sensitive, indecisive, impulsive, moody.
♛  BIOGRAPHY
↳ family lineage.
Daughter of Lady Arwyn Redwyne and Lord Kivan Florent of Brightwater Keep, Aelyn was born into House Redwyne and Florent, though the circumstances of her birth and early life were rather unfortunate. Her mother, Lady Arwyn Redwyne, the second-born child of House Redwyne and had spent her life being loved and dotted on. When the time came, the beautiful young woman was sent to Brightwater Keep in order to marry the Lord of House Florent, Kivan Florent. Lady Arwyn soon fell pregnant, though everyone’s joy was shorted lived, much like her own as she merely got a chance to hold her baby girl. The new mother caught an infection during childbirth and lost her battle with it after two weeks, leaving the baby girl in the sole care of her father and his family. The Florent family, however, was greatly displeased by the fact that they were given a sickly, weak bride who also gave them a girl instead of an heir. For Aelyn that had consequences; since she was a baby, Aelyn was treated not as a child of Lord Florent, but as an unwanted guest in their home, both by her father and his close family. As a baby, she was raised by her septa, the family had little to no involvement. Soon after her mother’s death, her father remarried and his new wife fell pregnant in a short time after the marriage. As the baby girl was growing older, it was becoming apparent that her father’s new bride did not want her, nor would she allow her to play with her own children. Aelyn was often kept away from her half-siblings or wasn’t allowed to have meals with the rest of the family at all. She often found herself busy with reading, practicing the high harp, dances, and when she could sneak away, she would play with the children of the servants and guards that were around her age. However, her step-mother was a strict woman and would often keep her isolated in her rooms, especially around guests, so none would see the embarrassment of the house. Aelyn felt completely alone and she found solitude in her books when her father and his wife wouldn’t allow her to practice any musical instruments or dances, simply keeping her in her rooms.
She had just turned seven years old when she heard that word had arrived that asked of her to be sent to her mother’s home as a ward. Overhearing the conversation between her father and his family made her almost leap with joy. Even though she was not quite certain of what all that meant, she was simply ecstatic that someone was asking after her, someone wanted her. Not long after, she was all packed up and boarded a ship to travel to the Arbor, her mother’s home, where she would eventually meet her uncle. Clinging to the railings, she watched as the waves rolled by, crashing against the ship, anticipating the time of her arrival. Her time at the Arbor was much like the child had dreamed of since her uncle’s letter arrived; she felt loved and valued, she was cared for, she no longer felt like they were ashamed of her, trying to hide her or wishing to send her away. Her care was trusted to a septa and her mother’s younger sister, and she was brought up learning all kinds of skills, including dances and the high harp she so loved. As the years passed, Aelyn was getting more involved in religious practices, as well as spending her time volunteering in many ways in order to help the less fortunate. Her life was full of love and meaning now, and she was growing to learn more and more about the struggles common people faced in their daily lives. The freedom and happiness she was surrounded by was threatened when her father sent word to her uncle demanding she returns to Brightwater Keep in order to be betrothed and secure the family an alliance. The news devastated her, though she obediently awaited as everything was packed and ready for her departure. Her uncle, Garland Redwyne ordered her trip to be postponed and she hoped and prayed that he had a plan that would not require her to return to those awful people she wished not to acknowledge as her family. News soon arrived naming her uncle Master of War and Ships and her betrothed to the King’s younger brother, Prince Cedric Tyrell.
Aelyn was not displeased if anything she had faith and trust in her uncle’s decision. House Tyrell was a House she had grown fond of through the tellings of her family, reading of their story and achievements. A just and peaceful House, in her opinion. That match secured her, though she was certain her father must not be very pleased with not being the one to make the decision; she regarded her uncle more of a paternal figure than her biological father. Regardless of the opinion of House Florent on the matter, that allowed her to spend more time doing what she loved more, whilst still surrounded by her family; writing and reading. Her love for books had grown as she grew older. Spending a lot of time in town, and a lot of it in the library or the local bookshop. In all actuality, the bookshop held a familiarity to her since it was the first place she visited at the Arbor and a place she frequented; books had been her getaway when she was living in Brightwater Keep and this place offered a certainty. Aelyn befriended the old gentleman, often helping him out in the store. However, wanting to truly feel free and nobody to know her, really, she dressed in commoner clothing when visiting the store, not wishing to be offered any special treatment because of the status and name. She quickly became friends with the older man, so much so he treated her more like a daughter. It was one of those times when he confided in her about how stressed he was regarding the raise of taxes again. A fact that she confirmed was not a lone case; she knew many common people, and she spoke to most of them pretending to struggle herself, finding out they all faced similar problems. It was an awakening call. The young girl felt obligated to help, however, in reality, she held no real power over such matters, so she turned to what she knew best, wishing it would end up helping her friend, and all those who struggled financially or otherwise. She started writing her own pieces, mainly political ones, persuading the people to demand more rights or the leaders to be more compassionate towards their subjects. Her writings were focusing on a fairer taxing system based on one’s income rather than their status. Many struggled with feeding their families, too, and Aelyn wrote about all these hoping for the best. Using the printing press in the bookshop, she printed pamphlets and discretely put them in the baskets along with other pamphlets which she knew would be distributed around town by young delivery boys. Later on she wrote in order to be supportive of King Emeric on his opinion to separate from the Iron Throne. All of her pieces were published and signed under the name “Themis”, a name most would think to be male, and that enabled her to secure them being published as well as taken into consideration; it also served as to withhold her anonymity, not risking her family’s name for her, sometimes, controversial opinions.
Recently she traveled to Sunspear in order to meet her betrothed, determined to secure this alliance. She arrived a little late for the celebrations, though she was a little pleased she was not present at the attack during the Sun God and Goddess announcements.
↳ personality.
Aelyn is generally a people’s person; she is easy to talk to and communicate, she loves meeting new people and adapts in conversation and personalities very easily. She has a charm that draws people in and is never afraid to speak her mind with carefully placed words. She cares deeply for people and it is easy to win her over, which makes her too selfless sometimes to the point where she will bury her own needs in order to aid someone else, which can be taken advantage of. Overall she dreams of a better, fairer world where everyone has a chance, sometimes makes her too idealistic in her beliefs and writings. Her sensitive nature makes her more compassionate towards people in general, even when one does not deserve her kindness. Despite being pretty certain with what she wants in general when it comes to actually making a decision, she can be indecisive and impulsive in her judgment and actions. You can usually find Aelyn being happy and sweet, but she is also moody, her mood fluctuates easily, and often when something goes bad it can ruin her whole day, which also makes her a little bit dramatic.
↳ the splitting of the kingdoms.
It is her first time away from home and she is equally excited and terrified to be going to a new place, especially to meet a man who she is betrothed to. She, of course, has read a lot about Dorne and she wants to experience the life there, though the reason why she is coming to Dorne, aside from meeting Prince Cedric Tyrell, is more complex. She is supportive of King Emeric Tyrell with every fibre of her being, and she has a lot of faith in him as a ruler, hence why she personally feels it was a right decision to separate from the Iron Throne. However, what highly concerns her is the uncertainty regarding the dynamics between the more recently formed Kingdoms and how everything will work out. She does believe the Iron Throne King and Queen have always had good intentions and best interest, but her loyalty has always been to House Tyrell and her mother’s house, House Redwyne. The latest news regarding the attack immediately filled her with worries about what will come next and whether this summit will do more harm than good. However, she tries to be generally optimistic and also showcase her support towards her home and King.
    ♛    STATUS:  TAKEN
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luna-redamancy · 5 years
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Once Upon a Dream (Legolas x Reader)
Requested by: @raindancer2004
Word Count: 2,861 
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In a faraway land, long ago, lived a king and his fair queen. Many years had they longed for a child, but no luck over the years was granted to the loving couple.
Until one day, one lucky day, their wishes came true.
The queen's screams of pain filled the castle walls, the king pacing the hallway as his loving wife gave birth in the other room. For years they longed for a child, and today was the day.
Suddenly the screams stopped, “Your majesty, my queen wishes to see you now,” one of the handmaidens called to the king, letting the tall king into the dimly lit room. “Oh my…” He gasped, the queen holding a baby girl against her bosom as the child fed on it. “We did it, my love,” She cooed to her husband, tears of joy in her eyes. “What shall we name her, dear?” She questioned, cradling the now sleeping babe. “(y/n),” The king cooed to her, his hand stroking the baby's head. “I’ve always loved that name,” The queen agreed a smile on her face.
Because of all their hardships, the couple announced that a holiday was to be proclaimed in their daughter’s honor. The entire kingdom was invited, those of the highest and the lowest class were welcomed to pay homage to the princess.
The castle was bustling with guests, the streets filled with guests who hadn’t yet visited the future queen. The announcer held his chin up high as he introduced yet another royal coming to pay homage.
“Their royal highnesses, King Thranduil and Prince Legolas, of the Woodland Realm!” He called out proudly, the crowd suddenly turning to look to the incoming gentlemen.
“King Thranduil,” The king greeted warmly, for their kingdoms always had good relations. “Hello, my friend,” Thranduil bowed his head cooly, the bejeweled crown on his head was not one he was used to. “I see that you brought your son, Prince Legolas,” Your father noted, smiling at the young prince who stared starry-eyed into your cradle.
The two kings had hopes that their kingdoms could unite one day under one ruler, but that hope was squashed when the king and queen could not produce an heir. But now, today Prince Legolas would be introduced to his betrothed. Unknowing that he was producing a gift to his future bride, Legolas grinned and produced a clasp he helped make himself, not knowing that a moonstone clasp was a symbol of marriage just yet.
As King Thranduil and Prince Legolas bid their farewells to the small family, the announcer calling everyone’s attention back to the incoming guests.
“Their honored excellencies, the three good fairies!”
Red, green, and blue light filtered down from the sky as the fairies conjured themselves into the room. “I am happy to announce, Mistress Flora, Mistress Fauna, and Mistress Merryweather!”
The three ladies smiled at each other as they approached the cradle. “Oh so darling…” Flora cooed, brushing your one curled hair away from your forehead. “She’s a beauty,” Fauna told the queen as Merryweather greeted the king and queen. “Your Majesties,” She bowed, curtsying her blue dress.
Flora stopped her cooing and curtsied to the couple as well, “Each of us will bless with child with a single gift, no more, no less,” She announced as the hall grew quiet, everyone eager to hear what the magical beings would offer to the child.
“Little princess,” She cooed, rubbing your cheek, “My gift to you shall be the gift of beauty,”  Flora announced, a rosy hue floating over your body before settling in your lips, temporarily tainting them the shade of a red rose.
Fauna lightly shoved her sibling to the side, “Oh tiny princess... My gift to you will be the gift of song,” She announced, a emerald mist floating over you before entering you through your mouth.
Merryweather smiled and waited patiently for Fauna to move, “Sweet sweet princess…” She began, stroking your cheek, “My gift to you shall be---” Merryweather was interrupted by the crash of thunder and lightning, the castle doors swinging wildly as a dark purple light filled the room.
“Maleficent!” Flora gasped, horror filling her features.
“What does she want here?” Merryweather scowled, protectively standing over you as Fauna shushed her.
Maleficent chuckled, “Well.. Quite a glittering assemblage, King (Father’s Name).. Royalty, nobility, the gentry…” She observed, holding her staff with her claw-like nails. “....How quaint.. Even the rebel.” Maleficent scowled at the fairies surrounding the cradle.
Merryweather glared, her wings fluttering wildly behind her back as Flora cooed to her softly not to start a fight.
“I felt quite distressed when I heard the news of your birth, King (Father’s Name), for I had not received an invitation… After all of our history.” She glowered, her green eyes seeming to narrow menacingly.
“You weren’t wanted!” Merryweather growled, not being able to hold back her disdain for Maleficent for much longer.
“Not wanted?” Maleficent tilted her head, her horns glimmering in the deep lighting. “Oh dear.. What an awkward situation… I had hoped this was merely some oversight…” Maleficent’s voice was oddly calm, unlike the wicked witch that everyone imagined evilly cackling and conjuring evil spells.
“You aren’t offended, your excellency?” Your mother questioned, an uneasy feeling consuming her heart as Maleficent dragged her eyes over to her.
“Why no, your majesty. And to show I bear no ill will, I, too, shall bestow a gift on the child.” Maleficent declared, the castle growing deathly silent as she approached the cradle, the fairies standing in front of it protectively.
Growling Maleficent waved her hand, the fairies being sent to the side by a gust of magic. “Listen well, all of you! The princess shall indeed grow in grace and beauty, beloved by all who know her. But, before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and meet her death!” She announced loudly, lightning crackling in the distance, illuminating the evil smile growing on her cherry red lips.
“Oh no!” Your mother gasped, grasping onto you and pulling you to her chest. Maleficent’s evil cackle filled the hall until it was thumping through everyone’s skull.
“Seize her!” Your father growled, tears filling his eyes as he realized the light that was gifted to him was going to be taken away in such a short amount of time.
Rolling her eyes, Maleficent raised her arms high. “Stand back you fools!” She growled at the knights rushing toward her as her staff began to glow a sickly green. Her dark laughter sounded out again as she vanished into the glowing light with a strike of lightning following.
Flora’s heart broke at your parent’s expressions, wondering what to do when she remembered one grateful fact.
“Your Majesties… Merryweather still has her gift to give,”
“She can undo this wretched curse?” Your father all but whimpered as his eyes darted over to the blue dressed fairy.
“Oh no, sire… Maleficent’s powers are far too great for me to undo it completely…”
“But she can help!” Fauna announced, ushering Merryweather to your mother who held you close.
“Just do your best, dear.” Fauna cooed as Merryweather took a deep breath.
“Sweet princess, if through this wicked witches trick a spindle should your finger prick, a ray of hope there still may be in this, the gift I give at thee. Not in death but just in sleep the fateful prophecy you'll keep, and from this slumber, you shall wake when true love's kiss the spell shall break.” Merryweather announced, a baby blue mist leaving her wand and coating you in its light. “For true love conquers all,” She finished, brushing her thumb over your sleeping eyes.
Despite this reassurance, King (Name) was still not convinced. In fear for his daughter's life, he ordered every spinning wheel in the kingdom would be burnt, and so it was done.
The flames flickered in the distance as the fairies watched from the windowsill, their expressions grim for what was to come.  
“Fiddle-faddle!” Flora growled as she shoved herself away from the window, causing a sigh to leave Fauna’s lips.
“Now, now, no need to be so upset… Come, have a cup of tea dear, we’ll work it out somehow,” Fauna called to Flora, conjuring a teapot and three teacups out of thin air for them to enjoy.
“A bonfire won’t stop Maleficent, Fauna, neither will tea.” Merryweather huffed but took the steaming cup anyways, magically conjuring herself a biscuit.
“Of course not,” Flora rolled her eyes, “But what will…” She thought aloud, staring back toward the window, watching the flames flicker.
“Perhaps if we reason with her--” Fauna began.
“Reason?!” Flora gasped, outraged at the suggestion.
“With Maleficent?” Merryweather laughed sarcastically, drinking her tea.
“She can’t be all that bad,” Fauna groaned, not liking the other two’s over exaggerated response.
“Oh yes, she can remember what happened before King (Name) took the throne?!” Flora recalled the time Maleficent wounded the former king with her wings, no one knew the true story, for they were never there.
“I’d like to turn her into a fat ole hop-toad!” Merryweather cried out, stuffing another biscuit into her mouth. “Now dear, that isn’t a very nice thing to say,” Fauna scolded, “Maleficent isn’t a nice person either, so it’s fair.” Merryweather retorted, holding her cup out for the teapot to magically refill it.
“Even if we would let you, Merryweather, we can’t. You know our magic doesn’t work that way,” Flora began as Fauna chimed in: “It can only be used for good, deary, to bring joy and happiness.”
Scoffing, Merryweather used her wand to sweeten her tea, “It would bring me joy and happiness,” She grunted as Flora flew back and forth anxiously.
“There must be some way…” Flora mumbled before slamming her fist in her hand. “There is!”
“There is?” Merryweather and Fauna spoke at the same time, “What is it, Flora?” Fauna questioned as Flora shook her head. “Not here... Even walls have ears when it comes to Maleficent, follow me”
Flora minimized herself into a pocket-sized height, flying towards the inside of a jewelry box on the table. Fauna and Merryweather sideglanced at each other before waving their wants to minimize also, following her into the jewelry box, watching as the box shut tight, their wands being the only source of light in the tiny thing.
“I’ll turn her into a flower!” Flora screeched, clearly overjoyed by her plan, “Maleficent?” Merryweather questioned, a smile on her face. “Oh no, dear, princess (Y/n)!”
“Ohh... She’d make a lovely flower,” Fauna cooed, imaging you shaped into a rose or a sunflower.
“Don’t you see, a flower can’t prick its finger!”  Flora reasoned when Merryweather looked unimpressed. “A flower has no fingers…” Merryweather agreed as Fauna nodded. “That was, she’ll be perfectly safe, we can always keep an eye on her, she won’t be in any harm.”
Merryweather scoffed, “Until Maleficent sends a frost.”
“Yes, yes!... Oh… Oh dear…” Flora deflated, sighing and letting her shoulders sag forward. “She ruins all your flowers…” Fauna sighed, patting Flora’s back in consolation.
“You’re right, she’ll be expecting us to do something like that,” Flora sighed.
“What won’t she expect? She knows everything, she’s Maleficent!” Merryweather ranted
“Oh but she doesn’t, dear… Maleficent doesn’t know anything about love, kindness, or the joy of helping someone…” Fauna contradicted, “Y’know, I don’t think she’s really very happy,” She finished as Flora visibly got excited again.
“That’s it! Of course…. It’s the only thing she can’t understand and won’t expect... “
“Won’t expect what?”
“We have to plan it carefully, let’s see, woodcutters cottage, the abandoned one, yes… Of course, the King and Queen will object, but when we explain it’s the only way…”
“Explain what?” Merryweather questioned, seeming to be the only one lost in the ‘plan’.
“Explain the story of the three peasant women raising a newborn baby deep in the forest,” Flora finally explained, a grin on her face.
“Oh, that's very nice of them,” Fauna smiled, oblivious to the plan Flora was hatching.
“Who are they?” Merryweather was just as oblivious, feeling like she wanted to meet the three women who would take on such a task.
“Turn around,” Flora encouraged as the three women turned to face a shiny locket, acting as a mirror. Flora waved her wand and suddenly they were dressed as peasant women.
Fauna’s expression was confused, “Uh…” She didn’t know what to say, “It...It’s us?”
“You mean, we, us… We’re the peasant women?” Merryweather questioned, examining the outfit on her form.
“We, us, taking care of the princess?” Fauna seemed hesitant causing Flora to raise a brow, “Why not?” She asked Fauna.
“I’d like that, very very much!” Fauna expressed, causing Flora’s expression to go back to a cheery one.
Merryweather raised her wand and changed the color of her dress. What once was a bright pink color, was now a baby blue.
The three left the jewelry box, now standing at full height in the room once again.
“Yes, yes, it would be fun, but we will have to feed it--” Merryweather began to argue.
“And wash it, and dress it, and rock it to sleep!” Fauna interrupted, nearly squealing in excitement. “Oh I’d love it,” She finished, dreamily sighing.
“You really think we can do this?” Merryweather questioned, doubt clear in her voice as she worried for the upbringing of the child.
“If humans can do it, so can we,” Flora scoffed, her wings fluttering as she thought of how much of a better job they could do raising her.
“And we’ll have our magic to help us, we can do it perfectly,” Merryweather decided, finally on-board with the plan.
“That’s right!” Fauna agreed as Flora wildly shook her head, “Oh no, no, no, no, no, no! No magic!” Flora declared, taking the wands out of their hands, magically removing their wings too.
“You mean, living like mortals?! For sixteen years?!” Merryweather screeched, mortified at the idea. “Flora, we don’t know how! We’ve never done anything without magic, or magical assistance!”
“-And that’s why Maleficent will never suspect it,” Flora explained, tucking the wands in her dress pocket.
“But who’ll wash, cook?” Merryweather questioned, now not liking the plan at all.
“We’ll all pitch in deary, I’m sure between the three of us we’ll be alright.” Fauna soothed Merryweather as she scowled at Flora, definitely no longer on board with the plan.
“Come along now, we must tell their Majesties at once,” Flora seized the conversation, the three of them walking out of the room to the balcony, where King (Name) and Queen (Name) were standing watching the flames.
With heavy hearts, the new parents agreed to the plan, handing over the child with teary goodbyes. “I love you, my baby girl,” Your mother whimpered, peppering your face in kisses as she gave you to Flora.
“Take care of her, o-okay?” Your mother begged, tears now freely falling from her eyes. “We will protect her with our lives, your Majesty,” Merryweather promised, nodding slightly.
The three fairies took off on foot in the night, wrapped in black cloaks, carrying nothing but the clothes on their backs and the small princess holding the moonstone clasp tight in her tiny hands.
The entire kingdom was sad and lonely as the years passed, the King and Queen visibly upset every day, for they never got over the loss for their child. But, as the years ticked by and the princess’ sixteenth birthday drew near, the entire kingdom rejoiced, like a flower getting a fresh drink of water.
Everyone knew that as long as Maleficent’s domain thundered with her wrath and frustration for not finding the child, she was safe with the fairies.
“It’s incredible,” Maleficent began, picking at her nails as her search patrol stood in front of her throne. “Sixteen years and not one trace of her! She couldn’t have vanished into thin air! Are you certain, you searched everywhere?” She growled, eyes narrowing at her patrolmen who were shaking in their boots.
“Yes, your excellency, everywhere!”
“The town, the forests, the mountains, in all the cradles.”
“Cradle?” Maleficent stopped the patrolman from his rant, “Yes, every cradle,” The man responded as Maleficent began to cackle.
“Cradle?! Did you hear that, my pet?” Maleficent growled to her pet raven, affectionately petting his beak, “All these years, they’ve been looking for a baby…” She cackled, her laughter filling the throne room as the patrolmen began to laugh too, nervously.
Maleficent abruptly stopped laughing, “Fools, idiots, imbeciles!!!!” She screamed at them, raising her staff causing all of them to run out of the room. “They’re hopeless… A disgrace to the forces of evil.” She ranted to Diablo. “My pet, you are my last hope…”
“Circle far and wide, search for a maiden with hair of sunshine and gold, lips as red as the rose, go… And do not fail me.” Maleficent ordered, tapping her nails on her green orb at the top of her staff as Diablo took off with a loud Caw, disappearing out the window.
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diveronarpg · 4 years
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Congratulations, VICTORIA! You’ve been accepted for the role of BERTRAM. Admin Julie: Ring ring, Vic, it’s me, the bringer of good news -- albeit, a little late! Your application for Beau was literally everything I wanted and more. From the not-so-subtle allusions to pop culture and media which Beau would likely be obsessed with, to how Beau’s world revolves around Beau, you hit the nail on the head. I’m especially interested to see how he will grow, change, fail, and adjust to the world around him as it spins on its axis, especially with the Capulets and Montagues ready to go at each others’ throats. I was overjoyed to see your app in the inbox, and I’m just as overjoyed to have this fool of a man on the dashboard. Thank you! Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.
WELCOME TO THE MOB.
OUT OF CHARACTER
Alias | Victoria
Age | 24
Preferred Pronouns | she/her
Activity Level | I’m always available on mobile, and I try to knock out a few replies every other day unless I manage to queue.
Timezone | EST
Triggers | none that aren’t already listed
How did you find the rp?  | Rosey
Current/Past RP Accounts | I currently write Katarina Du Pont !
IN CHARACTER
Character | Your desired character’s alias -
Beau Renaud, Bertram. // with a faceclaim change to Zane Holtz and if I could age him up to 32, I’d appreciate it! It gives me the time to have Beau attend university in Paris and ‘build’ a career that would make it plausible for him to have bought his way to the top, ruined it for himself, and then crawled back to his mothers to have ‘earned’ his position at L’Arena.
What drew you to this character? | We’d love to hear what about this character’s bio caught your attention! Make this as long or as short as you desire!
On Beau Renaud–
What drew me to Beau Renaud the most was how fun he is– how shallow, and perfectly flawed this dastardly human being is who jumps out from his biography and reeks of Creed Aventus during the week and Bleu de Chanel on the weekends with a voice as sickly sweet as a macaron. Quite frankly, he’s the type of person I’d want to punch in the face, but my god after reading his biography I was dumbfounded by how much I adored him. Maybe it’s because of how light he feels, in comparison to some of the other characters here in DiVerona. Maybe it’s his blissful ignorance towards his own flaws while he attempts to navigate the flawed lives within Verona. Maybe I just love the idea of writing someone so garishly grand and loves themselves for it. Or, maybe it’s because there’s something terribly alluring about writing a man who really is in it for himself: without the violence, with only a love for the beautiful things in life.
Beau Renaud is a man adored, but not a man loved. And there’s something terribly lonely about this. There’s something haunting in the lack of genuine connection he has with people. There is something… Lonely about being an only child, but one that is seen not as himself, but as the living failed embodiment of his parents ambitions. It’s about the glitter and gold, it’s all about an opulent party and the adrenaline rush of the interactions. But, it’s not about heart. Strangely enough, terribly enough, it’s not about Beau’s heart. He’s not nearly ruined enough to be hailed a Dorian Gray for his sins, but… It’s quite something to realise that he’s as clueless as Dorian was at the beginning of Oscar Wilde’s novel.
At the end of the day, he is simply a man born in the wrong era. Beau Renaud would not have been found at fault if he’d been born in the Edwardian era or sooner. And it’s almost laughable, that his engagement to Daphne Allard is nearly exactly that of every American millionaire’s daughter who had gone to Europe in hopes to marry a man who had what they lacked: lineage and rank. It’s a call back to Downton Abbey, it’s Consuelo Vanderbilt marrying the 9th Duke of Marlborough, it’s the Gilded Age of British aristocracy (who were quietly growing too poor to maintain their grand estates) marrying commoners for their considerable dowries. Beau Renaud would have fit right in. He comes from a sumptuous bloodline after all, and the man does need his funding to fit the lifestyle he loves.
I almost hate admitting it, how alluring this man is. But, that’s Beau for you. You adore him, but you don’t love him. There’s something terribly ugly about how beautiful this man is, how handsomely grotesque he manages to be in his vanity and near blindness. You love the parties, the escapism, the way he is accessible and a self-proclaimed neutral. Yet, you hate him for the same exact reasons. Friend or foe is a game to be played in Verona. Is he bright enough, at least, to play it to survival? Animals do whatever it takes to survive, and Beau will do whatever it takes to make sure he does. But, will he survive in Verona? I want to write him because I’d like to be the first to find out.
What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character? | Where do you see this character developing, and what kind of actions would you have them take to get there? 3 future plot ideas would be preferable.
Everywhere and nowhere, down the rabbit hole and to Hadestown we go. This is where we find Beau Renaud. This is where we find parts of his story and where his life might lead– but you won’t find his ending written anywhere. At least, not yet.
Dorian Gray – a moment in literature
It’s almost laughable how comparable Beau Renaud is to the Dorian Gray we are introduced to at the beginning of Oscar Wilde’s only novel. They both know nothing but of the grandeur their lifestyles have afforded them, they know their childish selfishness– they have some grasp at the desire to please others and fit in. But while Dorian’s greatest catalysts are, arguably, an unnamed book and Lord Henry Wotton, our dear Bertram has spent a year in Verona remaining the same neutral, same untainted and self-centered man that had arrived from Paris. He’s a modern Dorian, who knows the spoils of narcotics and what money can buy. But in the case of Dorian’s descent into debauchery and extremes of unforgivable sin, Beau has yet to descend from his harmless (though blind) perch beside his beautiful fiancee. I won’t define the catalyst, because this is dependent on many factors in Beau’s life: who he makes friends or enemies with, the decisions he makes in terms of his position at L’Arena, the information he may or may not learn. But it is a precarious place where he sits. He is determined to survive, determined to live in his lighthearted merriment as a socialite. This greed for himself was known to him in France, but Verona has a way of bringing out the darkest and most wretched desires of its occupants. His priority is himself– How far down into sin is he willing to go to ensure it? Can he be brought to violence? He’s already sinful enough, witty enough to buy people off to secure his safety– to one extreme, can his sly tongue and position at L’Arena buy his safety within a mob? If his descent to Hell is to follow that of Dorian Gray, Beau is destined to utter doom. Years and years of debauchery and unholy acts are to follow him, plague him. Anything to survive, anything to enjoy still his beauty and his life. Whatever it takes to win. At least, until his guilt eventually catches up to him. But, will it?
Scarlett O’Hara, Prince Charming – a moment in film
His own survival is his greatest priority. His marriage guarantees him this– just like Scarlett O’Hara’s second marriage to Frank Kennedy and following marriage to Rhett Butler, and not unlike Shrek 2’s Prince Charming and his betrothal to the unfortunately, unknowingly already married Princess Fiona. Beau, Scarlett, and Prince Charming are all characterized by their greed and ignorance. Scarlett wants to survive and is willing to marry whoever it might be that will allow her to continue to live in comfort. However, as she pines for another, she is ignorant to the love that has been in front of her since before the Civil War. In the end, she’s too late to realise it. Prince Charming, on the other hand, had been promised the hand of Princess Fiona and the kingdom to follow. He shows that he’s willing to resort to manipulation and violence to achieve what he so ardently desires, having grown up promised he would have it all. Beau is engaged to the beautiful Daphne Allard: he’s been promised riches and the lifetime of a socialite as her husband. But, is that all this is? Is he Scarlett, marrying only for money? Prince Charming had wanted love, but what does Beau want? The chill to the air when the two are alone in a room is practically suffocating, freezing him from the inside out, unnerving the charming, rogue-ish grin that dances along his expression. Though this is certainly a business arrangement, Beau cannot help but wish for, at least, friendship between himself with his soon to be wife. His charm, his grace had failed him with her in the months that had followed his arrival in Verona. And though as of late he’s not thought much of his fiancee, there is still some deeper part of him (whether or not he would be open to admitting it, or Daphne would be receptive enough to hear it and believe him is certainly a question) that wishes to try. She sees him as Hades. But, wasn’t Hades the most loyal, most benevolent of his brothers?
The Confession, Sir Francis Dicksee – a moment in art
Would he be the confessor one day? Or, would she? Daphne, he wishes to know as his future wife, Lillian he wishes to know as… What? Both women are brilliant and sparkling jewels in Verona, revered as they are for their money and poise. But, what would it take for him to open up? What would he have to do, or say, to make one, or both of them allow their truths to tumble from their lips? Words, beautiful words can and do shine as luminously as they do on their own. Truth can be uncovered no matter how prettily laced they can be, and he is no stranger to the wit and charm required to undo such beautiful wrappings. Or, would their truths dim their light? Would it marr their facades of utter perfection? He’s so very curious about Lillian. How is it possible for one to be so good? He can practically feel Daphne slipping further and further away from him. But, when it comes to both women, could their truths hurt him, damage him in some way? When it comes to his fears and deepest desires, and even his unaddressed shame at having his mothers both so cuttingly tell him he was never meant for greatness and lacked the proper ambition and intelligence that they’d wished for him, when will it come to light? Who would he ever confess it to? It’s true, he’s shrouded in darkness, in a mystery of ignorance and laughter, but there is a hollowness to it. A year in Verona has brought a sense of desperation to the frenzy of weekly galas and parties that offer an escape from the harsh realities of each day, each week spent in this city. Perhaps, one day he will confess. Maybe, one day he will uncover a darker world of hurt and pain and truth within himself. But, after confession comes repentance. Does he have it in himself to ever do such a thing?
Versailles, Gossip Girl – a moment in television
As far as story arcs go, no matter how much he might try to remain neutral, Beau Renaud is a socialite that’s had his hands in ruin of his own name in the past. Was this ruin nearly anything as terrible as what goes on in Verona? No. In the glimmering world of being of a good name and household, being the son of the right parents is everything. He is their legacy, their smiles and laughter, their triumphs. The upper class would be nothing without a healthy dose of nepotism. For Beau, Verona is nothing like Paris. In fact, it’s nearly as though he’s been thrown into some bizarre amalgamation of Gossip Girl meets Versailles. There is intrigue and drama, there is murder and poison, there are vile things lurking beneath the surface of every sparkling thing that Verona has to offer and violence at every turn, paranoia running rampant as he looks over his shoulder every day. In the past months it’s finally sunk in that he’s in the middle of a mob war, with one side choking him and the other with a dagger in his side daring him to publish anything that leans more to one side or another. He’s privy to many secrets, yes, but he is nowhere near powerful nor as connected here in Verona. Either he develops towards a path where he stakes his claim and stands his ground as a keeper of secrets to harness his own power, he remains a neutral puppet dancing merrily on strings like a marionette doll, or he joins a mob. Whichever direction he goes in, however he develops as a character has yet to be seen. But, it will not be without struggle. It will be filled with anguish and strife, hardship that he has never known: because this is Verona, and he is not immune to his environment; because in order to survive, he must choose and he will suffer no matter which path he should set himself onto. Versailles’ court would have been simpler to navigate. Perhaps, though, Beau Renaud would end up in a ditch before he can decide. Maybe, he’ll be responsible for a death or two– either by his own hand, or as a result of news published to L’Arena. The possibilities are endless for this pretty bird with clipped wings. And, to think: he only thought he’d be moving to Verona to marry a rich, pretty girl and a new career that he could slack off on easily.
Welcome to year 2 in Verona, darling. Xoxo Gossip Girl
Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | End him. But make it pretty.
IN DEPTH
Please choose between the interview or the para sample (or both, if you like!)
In-Character Interview: The following questions must be answered in-character, and in para form (quotations, actions written out if applicable, etc). There is no minimum or maximum limit for your response - simply answer as you would if you were playing the character.
What is your favorite place in Verona?
“How could I ever choose?” He leans back in his seat, eyes dancing with merriment as he grins. “This place–” Beau’s hand comes up to gesture towards the view beyond the patio where they sit, fingers sweeping towards the view of Verona before it resettles again in his lap. “Is so beautiful.” His chin turns next, blue eyes focusing on the city in the distance, chiseled jaw emphasized by the light as the curve of his mouth softens to the practiced look of fondness. “Verona is no Paris,” This, he admits as though it were a secret, louder than a murmur so that the other can hear him, but soft enough that he nearly seems embarrassed to admit it. “But, it is something else.” His brow quirks slightly at the interviewer’s direction, ever so dynamic, ever so engaging. “But, I suppose if I have to pick a place, it would have to be The Twelfth Night.” The artwork reminds him of the museums he used to stroll around, and The Tempest reminds him of the nightlife he had been so accustomed to in Paris. This isn’t home, but it needs to be. It will be, after he marries Daphne in November. “There’s a certain charm to this city, and it is… Beautiful. There’s nothing quite like it.”
What does your typical day look like?
“–Well, I take Quaaludes 10-15 times a day for my “back pain”, Adderall to stay focused, Xanax to take the edge off, pot to mellow me out, cocaine to wake me back up again, and morphine… Well, because it’s awesome.” He’s since turned his face back to the interviewer in full, quoting The Wolf of Wall Street without so much a blink in hesitation. But then he snorts, and a playful expression comes over his handsome features. “I’m kidding. I saw it in a movie once, and I thought it was funny.” A chuckle tumbles from Beau’s lips as he crosses his legs in easy elegance. Though as burly as he is, it’s almost surprising someone like him is so smooth. He attributes this to the ballroom dancing lessons he’d begun as a child, and none of it to the swimming and boxing he does to stay fit now. “My typical day is like anyone’s that works an office job. Wake up to an alarm that’s too early for comfort, check my phone, have an espresso shot or two to get going before I get ready and am out the door. My work at L’Arena is blessedly streamlined by my personal assistant Sophie as I also have a hand in planning a few charity events a month.” When the interviewer looks surprised, Beau shrugs good-naturedly. “I was not so lucky to be in such a position in Paris. After all, I am my mother’s son, and she is quite the philanthropist herself.”
What has been your biggest mistake thus far?
His brows furrow, mouth falling open before it partially shuts in an exhale of contemplative breath. This is a question he had not expected and later he’d have Sophie send a damning email to the head of this magazine for not sticking to the approved questions. The subtle pout to his lips makes it evident that he is less than pleased. “I suppose…” A blink, then another. Then a laugh as he shakes his head at the interviewer, bringing that charming smile back to his features. “Not learning Italian more quickly? I’d say I am quite passable now, but, perhaps if I had not studied English throughout my education, I could have learned Italian instead.” Reaching for the mimosa before him, Beau takes a sip before he continues. “No,” He teases with a faux contemplative look into his half-empty flute. “I think my biggest mistake was not proposing to Daphne in Paris. I think it would have been more picturesque, more romantic that way. But, she accepted, despite the location. That’s all that matters to me.”
What has been the most difficult task asked of you?
This is both a question and answer he knows, and with a softening look in his eyes that he smiles once more, absentmindedly rolling the stem of his glass as he speaks. “Finalising the design of Daphne’s ring. I wanted it to be unique to her, to the jeweler and design house, and I wanted it to be like nothing anyone had ever seen before. So, we’d pulled from archives, looking for a way to better conceptualise what I was looking to create. And, in the end, we were able to accomplish it.” Beau nearly seems fond of the memory, but when the ring itself is a testament to him, why wouldn’t he be? His pride glows like something glimmering and warm, but deep down the most difficult task was abandoning Paris– abandoning the beautiful city he knew every inch of for the grotesque little city of Verona.
What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?
He has half a mind to throw this interviewer out of his home. What sort of interview was this? But before his displeasure makes itself known, it is covered up by his sitting up and expression changing to one of surprise, brows raising once more as remnants of his smile still curve at his lips. “I’m not here to make a political statement, my friend. And– I do run a news outlet here in Verona that’s unbiased.” He nods towards today’s edition of L’Arena that sits artfully amongst the breakfast spread on the table between them, voice taking on a more wistful, more passionate tone than before: just like his mothers had taught him. Beau appears vulnerable, but only just so as a man that wants not to focus on what festers in Verona– one that clearly still clings to the beauty of the day to day. “There is so much violence and decay in the world–” He pauses to shake his head as if he can cast out the past few months from his head. “–So much darkness. But, I don’t think we should let ourselves be consumed by the ugliness of it in our day to day lives.” His hand gestures towards the food, then he grins wider as he raises his hand to gesture towards the view. “We should enjoy it: the beauty of the day. Now, please. Let’s not put this food to waste, hm?”
Extras: If you have anything else you’d like to include (further headcanons, an inspo tag, a mock blog, etc), feel free to share it here! This is OPTIONAL.
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lampd-intheface · 5 years
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warnings: violence, specific description of injuries, blood, violence, sad ending, magical curses
pairings: platonic deceit/virgil/patton
author's note: this isnt lampire au but what can you do when a plot comes to you in your dreams like a violent vision from an angry god?
Virgil had always been the most curious out of all of his brothers. That had been his curse, he supposed.
The dragon always said Remy's curse was his sleepiness and Emile's curse was his empathy. But Virgil, to the dragon, was perfect, was sweet, never did any wrong.
Little did the dragon know, the little dragon witch did have a curse. It was his curiosity. Virgil always ventured out, ventured far from the center of the forest (which they were allowed to do), ventured to the last few trees separating the magic from the humans (which they werent allowed to do), stood there at the precipice.
He would stand between the trees, the runes on the bark rough against his smooth palms, and he would peek out into the bright world before him full of grass and light and flowers.
There were similar things in the old forest; fairy glades with sparkling fairy lights and will-o-wisps and beautiful dark flowers, where the shadows of the trees made the light peeking through them almost twinkle.
But it was hard not to be mesmerized by the light of everything on the other side, by the drastic difference between the beautiful darkness of the forest and the breathtaking light of the meadow. Virgil always thought how unfair it was that the humans got to claim the brightness.
It wasn't until he met Desmond that he really truly believed maybe the humans did deserve it.
Desmond was all sly smiles and big bright amber eyes. Even seeing Virgil, with his scales and his dragon eyes and his big sharp claws, Desmond wasn't afraid. He wasn't afraid of the old forest or of Virgil or of the darkness.
He walked over without hesitation, introduced himself confidently, told Virgil that he had beautiful dragonfly wings.
Virgil tried not to be offended, of course. His wings were much bigger than a measly dragonfly's and his were much more iridescent too. Still, he couldn't get any of those words out because, then, Desmond stated that he wanted to be friends with him.
In the forest, Virgil didn't have friends.
He had the dragon, who wasn't a friend but a mentor or maybe a parent. He had his brothers, Remy and Emile, but they were brothers and not friends either. Virgil couldn't even consider the other fae his friends because everyone knew never to trust a fae. They were tricksters like that.
So, when met with the choice of gaining a friend, Virgil wholeheartedly and foolishly accepted.
If Virgil's curse was curiosity, Desmond's curse was honesty. He always liked giving his opinions, always liked blurting out the truth. Well, maybe not blurting. Desmond at least had some sense to keep some truths to himself. But he did like chattering away as he made daisy chains, all of them too wide but they still hung comfortably above Virgil's big sharp ears.
Desmond would talk about his little cottage only a few feet away, would talk about how his parents (both artisans and merchants who always seemed to be away for work) were kind and sweet and always watching out for him, how they would bring him toys and things from the big kingdom up the road.
Virgil always listened with wide eyes, nodding hastily and clutching every word to his heart as if drinking up the stories sustained him.
And, in some ways, it did.
It quenched his curiosity, his thirst for knowledge, his longing for anything about this dazzling bright world.
At the end of the day, however, Virgil was sorely reminded how there would always be a barrier between them. Even when they talked and played, Virgil always kept close to the runed trees, to the last line between humans and magic, to his darkness. He always made sure the shade of the trees covered him and that he never let too much light touch him.
Desmond, always bathed in sun and flowers and smiles, never minded. He would always say see you tomorrow, ignoring the way Virgil's eyes probably glowed a monstrous sickly purple in the shadows, how Virgil would stand, claws at the ready even when Virgil didn't want them to be.
Desmond deserved the light and, surely, that meant all humans were the same, that all humans deserved the light too. Maybe the humans got the light because they were dazzling just like it.
Which was why he agreed to meet Patton, Desmond's friend. Desmond spoke about him with such glowing compliments that it was hard for Virgil to really disagree. Patton seemed nice enough and, if Desmond truly thought so brightly of him, he must be an even better human than Desmond himself.
Unlike Desmond, Patton's parents didn't make textiles and ceramics. Instead, Patton's parents were much more important. They were the King and Queen of the kingdom! Virgil had never met such an important person before and so, obviously, Virgil felt nervous and anxious.
Apparently, he didn't need to be.
At first, Patton had been cautious and scared to approach Virgil. He understood since little dragon witches like him weren't common in the kingdom.
Eventually, and with Desmond's prompting, Virgil and Patton finally formally introduced themselves. Patton was graceful and beautiful and bright, just like how Virgil imagined princes to be. He was all smiles, just like Desmond, and Virgil felt his heart soar with how blinding both of them were.
Patton had even claimed that Virgil was a prince just like him because, like his father and the kingdom his father ruled over, the dragon ruled over the old forest. Virgil wanted so hard to believe that maybe, truly, a part of him really was like Patton. Maybe he could have that one similarity, that one thing that tied the two of them together.
Even Desmond had agreed and they made him a big thick flower crown full of the brightest most yellow flowers in the meadow. They made him prince and said that his crown was much better than Patton's.
Virgil almost wanted to cry with his longing to be in the sun with both of them, to be able to be bright just like them.
For a moment, Virgil entertained a thought in his head. The thought grew and grew, every second getting twice as big until, eventually, something broke.
He let his hand fall from the bark of the tree, the runes so rough on his fingertips that for a second, he believed they were trying to claw at his skin, trying to keep him from leaving. Slowly, one foot in front of the other, he watched as the grass under his feet fell away. He watched as the shadows ceased, chased away by the light.
It was bright, standing there, without any branches covering his head, without any shadows lingering over his body. He bowed his head a little to accept the flower crown and, standing in the meadow, standing in between Patton and Desmond, Virgil believed anything was possible. Virgil believed, his heart swelling, that he really was a prince. That, perhaps, he could at least earn his way into the sun.
Virgil was wrong. He didn't belong in the sun. He should've stayed where it was safe, where the shadows didn’t linger over him but, rather, shielded him.
They weren't bright at all. Patton and Desmond were just like the will-o-wisps. They looked hot and bright and fiery but they were just cold and full of hatred and lies and trickery.
He learned this first hand.
When he was supposed to leave, when he was supposed to return to his shadows, when Desmond said his usual see you tomorrow and Virgil turned away, they came in.
Their footsteps sounded like muffled thunder and the ground under Virgil quaked because even the ground knew what that loud thumping entailed. Virgil had thought nothing of it until, like lightning, a shock of pain coursed through his back.
You have to grab them by the wings, I heard. One of them said with confidence as his fist tightened around Virgil's beautiful dragonfly wings (though, distantly, he thought, they must not be so beautiful anymore).
They can't escape 'cus their wings're sensitive.
Virgil agreed. The way his wings were crushed in the man's grip made him scream out and tears burst from his eyes. The pain made him dizzy and confused and he turned to look over his shoulders to see if, perhaps, there was a misunderstanding.
When he looked, there was a beast there. It looked almost like a kelpie except drier and brown. It huffed at him the same way the kelpies did in the marshes. This one had a man perched on it and, in the man's grasp was Patton whose face was buried into the man's neck.
This man was the king. Virgil knew this because he had a crown on his head and he looked somewhat like Patton, if Patton was bigger and looked dimmer, meaner.
The other man was a metal man and Virgil didn't recognize him at all.
Desmond was nowhere to be found. Virgil hated the part of him that was glad because, now, the wings that Desmond loved to compliment were crumpled and ugly and Virgil didn't want Desmond to think he was ugly.
Virgil screamed again. The pain was much more tolerable the longer he endured it but it was still the most painful thing he had ever felt. He wanted to leave, wanted to go back to his safe shadows where metal men and dry kelpies with thunderous hooves were nowhere to be found.
He wanted to go back home, to his dragon, to his brothers and his nest and his safe forest.
The tears left his eyes quicker now, bigger droplets cascading down his already wet cheeks. Part of him wondered, maybe, if it was better to just give one big tug and leave his wings behind, sever them from his back so he could escape.
The thought was too painful. He couldn't even fathom what it would've felt like when, at that moment, from just pulling at them, the pain was already unbearable. His arms were too short, anyway, and, when he struggled to grasp at the metal man's clenched metal fists, he couldn't reach far enough.
Then, there was the sound of metal on metal. Virgil had only ever heard that sound once before. He could remember it but vaguely. Something about a dragon attacking a village.
He was too young. He remembered, though. Remembered the sound of a metal man pulling a sword out of its scabbard.
He couldn't tell if he remembered it from his memories or from the stories his dragon told them; stories of iron swords piercing dragon hide, of defenseless dragons roaring their last breath as the metal sizzled against their skin, of humans who claimed dragon horn and bone as trophies.
Then, the pain stopped but only for one second. Then, after that second, after that moment of peace, that moment where Virgil thought, perhaps, he could be free, there was pain again.
This pain was even worse, was twice as worse, was molten hot and dripping against his back, was zinging up and down his spine like a thunderstorm.
This time, his scream was louder, was throat destroying, was heard through the meadow and through the forest. His scream was a scream pleading for mercy, for relief, for home, for his dragon.
Then, the pain wasn't just on his back anymore. It sizzled, just like the chests of those dragons, it bubbled and boiled, right there, right through his heart.
He looked down.
There was a metal tip there. His blood dripped from the wound like hot lava. He couldn't move even though the pain ripped through him. He cried harder and harder and harder, the hardest he'd ever cried.
The tip disappeared and the sizzling stopped but the pain was still there and it was so crippling that Virgil fell, fell to his knees, fell until his face was pressed against the dark grass.
That was when he heard it.
His dragon roared for him, roared with a grief so heavy that it made Virgil want to cry even more, roared so loud that it was deafening in Virgil's ears.
For that moment, that one moment, the roar was all Virgil knew and he was relieved from the pain all over his body.
Then, when the pain returned and he couldn't bear it all over again, he looked up and his dragon had taken a form he rarely took outside the old forest.
The dragon stood there as a human, with two legs and two arms, tall and proud and angry.
The dragon knelt down and pulled Virgil into their arms, pressing his face into their neck. Virgil remembered Patton, remembered how he pressed his face into his father's neck. Virgil wanted to forget.
Then, the dragon pressed a hand against Virgil's back and the pain was gone, was just a flutter of a memory, something akin to a ghost on his skin. He felt sleepy now that the pain wasn't there to keep him awake.
I curse you. Virgil barely registered the dragon speaking and his eyes fluttered open and close.
I curse the child that deceived my own. I curse him with our blood, with our features, with our magic. I curse him to speak with only a fae tongue, a snake tongue, a tongue that only knows riddles and deceit.
Was the dragon talking about Desmond?
The chilly but familiar feeling of magic surrounded Virgil and he could feel the wind shift to take the curse and pass it on, to do the deed the dragon needed to be done.
I curse him with death but not his death. I curse his loved ones with death, one for each wing my child lost because of his lies.
Virgil wanted to protest but he felt so weak. Instead, he let out a sob. He wanted to will the magic to stop, wanted to whisper to the wind that Desmond wasn't at fault.
All he could do was cry.
I curse this knight, this false hero, this man willing to kill a small innocent child. I take his life just as easily as he would have taken my child's.
There was a scream and, then, the sound of clattering metal falling against the grass. Virgil buried his face closer to his dragon's neck.
He was hit with the realization that, perhaps, the reason why Patton had his face buried in his father's neck was because, like Virgil, he was weary and too weak to look.
I curse the king who ordered the killing, who ordered the crime, who was so willing to kill not only this child but so many children, so many innocent lives, before him.
The king wanted to kill him? Wanted to kill Virgil? Wanted to kill his son's new friend?
This time, Virgil made a move to look behind him even though it made a sharp pain zing up his body. The dragon prevented him by pressing a hand into the back of his head.
I curse you with the pain your men inflicted upon my people, my family, my child. I curse you to die but only after you've felt the full force of all of the pain you've ever caused.
Then, the sky crackled and the sun dimmed. This time, it wasn't the hooves of the dry kelpie. This time, it really was thunder, crackling across the sky.
You monster! You disgusting vile creature! You murderer! The King tried to shout over the oncoming storm but thunder cracked and the hooves of the dry kelpie stomped against the ground. To curse a child! To kill a father! You are nothing but a monster!
Virgil cried and the King continued Your child is a monster too! An ugly little thing! Disgusting, both of you, all of you!
Then, the dry kelpie stormed off and Virgil’s dragon carried him deep into the forest, into the center where the magic was strongest. They transformed into their usual form and curled around him, pressing him into their scaled hide. 
The dragon cradled Virgil as Virgil cried, tear after tear, sob after sob. Eventually, Emile and Remy also joined and Virgil cried harder.
Maybe, Virgil was wrong about the humans being dazzling. Maybe the reason why humans got the light and the creatures were stuck with the old forest wasn’t because the humans deserved it. Neither of them deserved that beauty. 
Maybe it was because monsters like them didn't deserve it even more. Maybe it was because monsters like them only deserved darkness.
After all, what kind of monster let other monsters curse their friends?
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vicehectic · 6 years
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Manga I Read on the Reg
This is just a collection of manga I read regularly whenever they come out.
1. Boku no Hero Academia
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Most of you know what this is. In a world where 80% of the population has these special abilities called “quirks”, our main character is part of the 20% that doesn’t have a quirk. The problem is, Midoriya Izuku, hero fanboy and enthusiast, has desperately wanted to be a hero since childhood. Without a quirk, Midoriya is discriminated enough as it is and everyone around him is telling him he can’t become a hero. But Midoriya refuses to give up and prepares for his future in order to become a hero. As high school entrance exams draw near, Midoriya is losing hope but in one miraculous encounter with Japan’s Number 1 hero, Midoriya is given an opportunity to obtain a quirk and pursue his dream to become a hero. 
I’m going to be honest. When I first started to hear about Boku no Hero Academia, I avoided it. I was already in too many fandoms and decided that with all that I had to do in my life: it wasn’t worth it. I pushed it away for later or potentially never. The most I did was click on a couple clips advertising BNHA and decided from those short clips that I despised Bakugou Katsuki. He was the classic bully character that I didn’t need reminders of. He’s the type of person I hate most in the world. I weighed the ethics and morality of this fantasy world way too heavily and moved on. Then, one day, having broken my ankle and forced to stay off it; I decided to read the Boku no Hero Academia manga in it’s entirety in one sitting. Since then I haven’t missed a new release. I think the reason I was so attracted to this series was how much it made me think of Katekyo Hitman Reborn which is one of my favorite franchises. I wanted to see more of a nervous and unsure main character despite being a badass and Boku no Hero Academia has certainly given me that.
This has an anime up to season 3 and a movie. Season 4 and a second movie has also been announced!
2. Haikyuu!!
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One of the only sports manga! Haikyuu follows Hinata Shouyo, a short teenage boy entering his first year of high school aspiring to be the volleyball team’s ace despite almost never competing before, and Kageyama Tobio, a genius setter who has previously been abandoned by his teammates. Now, it’s not exactly that cut and dried. Hinata, despite being a nervous wreck and an idiot at times, along with practically being a beginner at playing volleyball with a real team, has incredible athletic ability. The only thing he can really do is jump and at the beginning of his high school career he takes to spiking with his eyes closed. Kageyama is a genius with a terrible personality. His insecurities after being abandoned make him standoffish to nearly everyone, but he always pulls through when aiming his set exactly to where Hinata will hit it. The team they join are full of fun and vibrant characters that have the title of the fallen crows because their school’s team has “fallen from glory”. It’s a typical sports manga with lovable characters and interesting relationships.
I also avoided reading Haikyuu when my friends started talking about it. I had already invested so much time into reading The Prince of Tennis and I didn’t want to get sucked into another fandom. I caved of course. The characters just seemed so fresh and new to me. It was less about the volleyball and more about how the characters interacted with each other. I actually started reading Haikyuu because of two videos on youtube that I believe no longer exist. The first was a compilation of each jump serve layered on top of each other and for each second the character serving would change and it was like art. The second was a compilation of Iwaizumi and Oikawa bickering. That really sold me. 
This manga has an anime up to season 3! Season 4 has also been announced!
3. Akatsuki no Yona
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God I love her. Akatsuki no Yona follows the sheltered princess of the Kyouka Kingdom, Yona. Yona has lived her entire life within the gates of Hiryuu Castle with her cousin Su-won, her bodyguard Hak, and her father: the King. All Yona wants in her future is to marry Su-won, despite her father’s insistence that she will not. The night of her 16th birthday, however, she discovers Su-won over her father’s body, pulling a sword out of his corpse. She escapes the castle with Hak and after gathering herself after her father’s death and cousin’s betrayal she visits a priest that tells her to find the four legendary dragon warriors. Kyouka has a legend, in which the first king was a red dragon in human form and was accompanied with four warriors with his dragon brothers’ blood. Yona, with the priest believing she is the reincarnation of the red dragon, sets off with Hak and the priest’s companion to find the dragon warriors. 
I was hooked on Yona the moment it came out. I watched the anime like five times and when I realize there wouldn’t be a second season I read the manga. I’ve said this before in another post but Yona isn’t just a shoujo manga. The main character is a strong inspirational female character trying her best to fix the country that declared her dead. The romance is sweet but also awfully comedic. The fight scenes and the dramatic scenes are intense and draw you in. But just like any other manga, it’s the characters and the relationships that drew me in. Besides Hak and Yona’s thing they’re avoiding talking about; everyone else acts like siblings just trying to stay together the best they can and help anyone they can along the way. The dragon dynamic is hilarious, the backstories are sad, the romance is soft, and the bishounen is a genius. 
This manga has one anime season!
4. Yakusoko no Neverland
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The ultimate mind fuck. The orphans at the Grace Field House live peaceful lives with each other and their beloved Mama. It’s one big happy family. They spend the days like any other family would; breakfast, mind-wracking tests, tag, dinner, and rinse and repeat. But even to the children, somethings seem strange. They’re never allowed to venture beyond the gate that surrounds them like a ring in the forest around the house. By the time they reach the age 12, they have to leave their little house. The children that have left never write to them, despite promising they would. The story follows main characters Ray, Norman, and Emma as they find out the secret behind their little house and try to somehow change their pitiful fate. 
So, this is another manga I decided to read in one day. A friend and I decided that since the anime would be coming out soon we would read the manga together in one go. Needless to say we were nearly dead after reading through all of it. So much happens in this that you’re like “what just happened” despite having just read it. You literally have to expect the unexpected when it comes to Neverland. This series would be ruined if I said anymore but the fact that these children can go through that and still smile and have hope despite the odds against them makes my heart warm. 
This manga has an anime that is currently airing!
5. The Rising of the Shield Hero
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The one that makes you angry almost immediately. According to legend, the holders of the four heavenly weapons are the heroes that will save Melromarc from the calamity that come in waves to the world. Iwatani Naofumi is just a normal university student when he picks up a book that transports him to another world. It’s entirely by bad luck that he’s given the role of the disregarded Shield Hero who can only wield shields and is ultimately useless offensively in battle. What’s even worse is that the companion who joined him at the start of his journey accused him of raping her and he’s been scorned by the kingdom and all its inhabitants since. The world seems so dark and Naofumi doesn’t want anything to do with the other heroes and incoming waves of calamity. The light in his life returns when he enslaves a sickly and depressed demi-human to fight for him. Raphtalia soon finds her master isn’t scary or cruel and becomes determined to make sure no one will suffer as she once did as a child while making sure Naofumi knows he is loved and appreciated by at least one person. 
God when I first read this I was so mad. Naofumi didn’t deserve any of this, especially when the arrogant king summoned him to fight a battle he had nothing to do with. The same friend introduced Shield-bro to me and practically begged I read it. Yes we call it Shield-bro, it’s a thing. Look up Shield-bro on google and this will come out. It’s just a different sort of isekai where instead of being the hero that’s being praised - you get a real person getting accused of a real crime he didn’t commit. He’s been handed the short end of the stick just for being the Shield Hero no one appreciates. He’s literally the underdog in everything. You just want to root for Naofumi. It’s a really good stress reliever. 
This manga has an anime that is currently airing!
6. Isekai Omotenashi Gohan
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This one is so softtttt. Our main character and her little sister gets their literal house transported to a different world. Oh and their dog comes too! Their Japanese home is transported in front of a luxurious foreign-looking castle in which people greet Akane and her little sister, Hiyori, claiming to have summoned the priestess that will save their world from the miasma. Hiyori is delighted and starts her training as the priestess, but Akane has nothing to do as a normal office worker and their home’s homemaker in this new world. After spending a month feeling useless, Hiyori comes to plead her sister for her cooking - starting Akane’s adventure in cooking classic Japanese staples that somehow attracts the attention of the Knight Commander of the Chivalric Order, the King, the kingdom’s princesses and much more. That is, of course, while teaching her knight guard Jade how to cook as well. 
This isn’t very long and updates rarely but it’s so cute. All the antics are just so cute. The food is amazing and it’s just a story about how food brings everyone together. It’s masterful and done well. But it’s also not just a cooking story. Akane and Hiyori both struggle with Hiyori being the world’s priestess and her encountering danger. The sisterly bond is great in this one.
7. Koushaku Reijou no Tashinami
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If you can’t tell I’m really into Isekai. This manga follows another regular office worker, but she’s really into otome games. Our main character dies from a car crash and when she wakes up she is in the footsteps of the villainess, Iris Lana Armelia, from a game she had just completed, in the middle Iris’ judgement scene from the love interests because Iris harassed the game’s main character: Yuuri. The original fate of Iris, after losing her engagement from the prince and being exposed of harassment in front of her whole school, leads to a miserable life at a church. Iris, this time around, as an efficient office worker from Japan, gets sent by the Duke, her father, to care for their territory’s fief as fief lord. From there Iris, along with her loyal companions and friends, care for the fief with all of Iris’ knowledge from Japan with plenty of bumps along the way from the game’s love interests and Yuuri. Yuuri may not be the sweet video game protagonist she is thought to be.
So, one day, I had read through most everything and I wanted a little bit of romance in my life. And while this didn’t originally have the romance I wanted, it still piqued my interest. The real appeal to this is how strong Iris is as a character. She doesn’t take shit from anyone and holds her head up with pride. But in the times she is weak she has supportive friends that would do anything for her in a heartbeat. Another appealing factor is how technical and political this manga is. The manga describes real life things to improve the fief such as a banking system and taxation, but also gets political with the two factions of the two princes. It’s a good mix a strong female lead, economics, politics, royalty, and friendship. 
There is also a Light Novel that some amazing people have translated online! Go support them!
8. That Time I got Reincarnated as a Slime (Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken)
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More isekai! Just like most isekai main characters, our main character is a simple corporate worker who lives a normal life in Tokyo. Unfortunately, after pushing his friend out of the way of an assailant on the street, our MC dies while hearing a strange voice responding to his dying thoughts. When our MC wakes up he discovers that he is now a slime in a new world and discovers a dragon in the cave he woke up, befriends him, and receives the name Rimuru Tempest. Strangely, Rimuru has abilities that a normal slime would not have - the most notable being his ability to devour anything and mimic its appearance and abilities. Rimuru starts his journey after escaping the cave and one thing leads to another and suddenly there are a bunch of monsters calling him “Master” and “Rimuru-sama” and Rimuru is the head of a monster country. 
I normally don’t like OP characters, but I strangely find Rimuru okay. Rimuru has plenty of over powered characteristics and abilities but Rimuru’s personality and demeanor makes it tolerable. It’s just fun seeing how everyone underestimates Rimuru because he’s a slime. Rimuru is also very morally aligned, in that he’s very clear with his desires and doesn’t tolerate it if the line is crossed. 
This manga has an anime that is currently airing!
9. I Reincarnated into an Otome Game as a Villainess with Only Destruction Flags
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EVEN MORE ISEKAI! We follow Katarina Klaus who hits her head and awakens the memories of her past life as a seventeen year old girl in Japan. Katarina Klaus, however, is the haughty aristocrat villainess in a fantasy otome game with swords and magic. Having recovered her memories, Katarina cannot find it in herself to act the same as the old Katarina as she finds aristocratic society a pain. Unfortunately for Katarina, according to the game, death or exile awaits her for each and every route. Katarina decides the best thing to do is somehow protect herself by improving her magic and swordsmanship to escape the death flags. What follows are antics of farming to enhance her magical ability and her unintentional wooing of the game’s love interests. Oblivious and focused on matching the love interests to the game’s main character while avoiding a destruction flag, Katarina doesn’t notice how everyone, even the game’s main character falls for her. Farming, failed match-making, admiration from all sides, and a panicking main character awaits you. 
This is another one that I found looking for romance. This is more of a comedy isekai more than anything. Sure there’s magic and other abilities but the manga doesn’t focus on that. The manga focuses more on the strangeness that is Katarina as she is now. I would have never expected to find an isekai manga MC have a hobby in farming. The way Katarina is so oblivious to everyone falling for her is also pretty great. 
There is also a Light Novel that some amazing people have translated online! Go support them!
10. The Saint’s Magic Ability is Omnipotent (Seijo no Maryoku wa Bannou desu)
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God how much isekai do I read? Sei, a regular office worker, was suddenly summoned to another world by a saint summoning ritual with another girl she does not recognize. The prince of this country, despite there being two girls summoned to their world, completely ignores Sei and declares the other girl is the saint who will save the country from the miasma, without confirming his claim. Sei, outraged, demands that because she is apparently not the saint that she be sent back home but is told it is impossible. Sei lives a comfortable but restless life at the castle, having gotten used to the grueling work style of Japan. While exploring the castle she becomes interested in potion making. Her magic is overly effective to everything she does and creates without her meaning to - even her food gives people more energy. As time goes on, more and more people come to respect Sei’s good deeds and starts to think she is the saint while the girl parading around with the country’s prince is a fake. Sei, knowing she is the saint, only wants to live a quiet life creating potions.
This one is just so precious because of how amazing Sei is without meaning to. She knows she is the saint but doesn’t want to admit it. It’s also really fun seeing how she interacts with the other characters. Sei isn’t used to praise or romantic attention. A lot of things are new to her in this new world but all she wants to do is be useful in her own way. 
There is also a Light Novel that some amazing people have translated online! Go support them!
11. The White Cat That Swore Vengeance Was Just Lazing on the Dragon King’s Lap
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This is sadly relatable. Ruri has forcibly been friends her neighbor Asahi for years. Ruri is the beautiful daughter to a foreign model and a diplomat of Japan. If you were to look up the definition of beauty in a dictionary, Ruri’s picture would be there. Platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, elegant Japanese features and all. Asahi, meanwhile, has been coddled and loved throughout her whole life because her approachable nature and cuteness that no one except for Ruri seems immune to. Everything Asahi does is somehow blamed on Ruri, even when she isn’t directly involved. Everyone is on Asahi’s side. Having tried to escape Asashi and the negativity of those around her on multiple occasions, Ruri has realized that Asahi is willing to follow her everywhere no matter what Ruri tries. While on campus at her university with Asahi; she, Asahi, and a couple of Asahi’s friends/admirers get transported to another world via magic and everyone rushes to Asahi calling her the lady priestess. Ruri, seeing this as her chance to escape Asahi, is told she is an idiot for thinking she could return to her own world. Almost immediately all those in the Kingdom of Nadarsia hate Ruri because Asahi herself keeps clinging to Ruri while ignoring them. Without Asahi’s knowledge they kick Ruri off the hidden forest and Ruri finds herself in the care of a kind, yet ugly, old lady from the dragon kindgom who takes care of her and teaches her about the magic the fairies grant in this world. Surprisingly, the fairies are seem to gather around Ruri and adore her. When Ruri has gotten used to this world she visits the dragon kingdom on her own, gets scared and wears an ancient bracelet given to her by a powerful fairy that allows her to turn into a cat and is given the title “Cherished One” and meets the Dragon King who falls in love with her cat form. Cue title and roll credits!
I say this is relatable because of a toxic frienship I once had. I broke it off with a friend and for a long time things were awkward among my other friends and a lot of people kept insisting that we would make up someday despite me not wanting that. These friends now have realized that it was a lot more than that and funnily enough they have broken it off with her as well. But this is a cute story about a victim finally getting her vengeance and the love and praise she deserves. There’s also cute cat antics and a sprinkle of romance in it.  
There is also a Light Novel that some amazing people have translated online! Go support them!
12. Boku no Hero Academia: Vigilantes
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A very familiar title to another one on this list! In a world where 80% of the population has these special abilities called “quirks”, our main character is part of the 80% that does have a quirk. Unfortunately, not everyone is blessed with a quirk such as fire manipulation or engines in their bodies to fight crime. Himawari Koichi has the quirk known as “Slide and Glide”, giving him the average ability to slide over plain surfaces. Despite this, Koichi has always wanted to be hero and admires Number 1 Hero All Might as his role model. Despite not being a hero, Koichi uses his quirk in public areas, breaking quirk regulation laws, to get to his destination quickly and hates said restrictions. After a series of events Koichi decides to use his quirk, while wearing an All Might hoodie, to do good deeds for the public - all simple things. All he ever does for awhile is give directions, clean up litter, or return dropped items while utilizing his quirk. But things become dangerous when he meets freelance idol Pop☆Step and a quirkless, yet powerful, old man known as Knuckleduster and they somehow become vigilantes for their neighborhood while getting deeply involved in a quirk improvement drug known as Trigger.
This is what I wanted Boku no Hero Academia to be when I first read BNHA. I wanted a quirkless character fighting crime with their own power. I have to admit I was disappointed when Deku got his quirk. The setting of Vigilantes (or Illegals) is before the BNHA timeline. Eraserhead has yet to become a teacher at UA and the original Ingenium is still running around. We get to see an other side of the heroes we love and hate and get to see how vigilantism effects this quirk filled world. Koichi, while also being an All Might fanboy is different from Deku.  Pop☆Step is a cute tsundere idol who is still trying to climb the popularity ranks. Knuckleduster is a mysterious man who fights crime with his own justice and abilities. It’s an eye opener to another aspect of the BNHA world. 
13. Bloom into You (Yagate Kimi Ni Naru)
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The romance that isn’t supposed to be? Koito Yuu is a first year in high school who enjoys reading Shoujo manga. The problem(?) is that she doesn’t understand the feeling of love. Nanami Touko is a third year at the same high school that Yuu unintentional watches get confessed to but Touko refuses. Yuu gets recruited in helping the student council that Touko is a part of and realizes that Touko is the same as her. No matter how many people confess to either of them, be it one or dozens, they will never feel anything when it happens. Yuu goes to Touko for help, realizing that they are the same and gets advice to reject someone who confessed to her at her middle school graduation. But immediately after, Touko confesses that if it was Yuu, she could fall in love with her. What results is a story of a not-so romance and a refreshing coming of age story. 
This is one messed up romance story. Like the relationship Koito Yuu and Nanami Touko have is so messed up. The upside to this story is that it talks about homosexuality and asexuality with so much lax that it’s refreshing. This manga is cute and entertaining at times and the romance is unorthodox. The character backstories are interesting and heartbreaking and the way the characters interact with each other are interesting. You won’t see what happens in this manga in most manga you come across. 
This manga has an anime that is currently airing!
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ruethechosenone · 6 years
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Tenbris
I wrote a short story, and I like how it turned out! So read it maybe? (Under the cut!)
Tenbris had to admit, even though he loved his father dearly, all this insistence on finding a wife was getting ridiculous, he wasn’t that old. He had snuck out of the palace even though there was a dance going on, his father would be frustrated for sure but Tenbris didn’t care much at the moment. He had seen most of the girls in the kingdom at the palace, they had all shown up for gatherings at one point or another. Tenbris had his female friends sure, but he didn’t think he liked any of them in that way. He was heading towards one of the crystal pools. He was going to the one with rubies covering the floor of the pool and some of the cavern above. Tenbris preferred this one over some of the other caves, mainly because this one wasn’t as popular as the amethyst pool or the moonstone cave so it tended to have fewer people there. When he entered he gave a sigh of relief; as far as he could see no one else was in the cave. The cave had large rubies in and out of the still water, sticking out from the walls in some places sticking out so far and wide they could rest a small gathering. There was one hole in the roof that let in both sunlight and moonlight that bounced off of all the rubies in the cavern creating a warm red glow no matter if it was day or night. Tenbris glanced behind him to check that he wasn’t being followed before he made his way to one of the crystal-covered walls and began to climb up to his favourite place. It was a little crevasse in the crystals that was big enough to take up lunch and still have enough room to lay down and take a nap. He grabbed the edge of the small opening and hoisted himself up into it. It was hard to see it from the pool so he could stay hidden for hours if he wanted to. Tenbris sat down with his legs hanging over the edge. He sighed, it was nice to get away from all the excitement for a little while. He jumped slightly when he heard the faint sound of footsteps echoing around the cave. It was only a few moments after he heard it that a small figure appeared at the entrance to the cave. It was a young woman who was wearing a simple robe-like dress and a little red gemstone on the curled horn on her mask. She seemed to be checking if anyone was around and visibly relaxed when she didn’t see anyone. Tenbris leaned forward with interest, he didn’t think anyone would be out here in the crystal caves with the dance going on, he quickly remembered that he had snuck out of the same dance and that maybe other people didn’t want to go either. Still why this girl was here had grabbed his curiosity and was not letting go anytime soon. She walked over to the crystals that were hanging from the roof of the cavern, stopped before one of them and then lightly knocked on it. A long low sound started and grew before dimming out again. The sound made Tenbris jump a little. He had never heard anything like it before or at least the first time he was really paying attention to it. The girl walked over to some of the other crystals and hit them as she passed them, soon a sort of music was filling the entire cavern. Tenbris watched in awe as the girl climbed onto one of the giant Rubies that stretched out over the water. The girl stood for a second she seemed to be listening to the music before she put her arms up and spun around, that's when Tenbris realized that she was dancing!
His heart missed a beat as he watched her move around on the giant crystal that stuck out over the water then it sped up again as he watched her jump from crystal to crystal.
He was leaning forward to get a better look when his weight shifted in a way that made his heart catch in his throat he tried to grab at the ledge but it was too late. “Oh no!” He whispered to himself as he fell head first towards the water. The great splash startled the girl and she spun around a little too fast as she lost her balance and toppled off the crystal she was dancing on. When Tenbris broke the surface of the water he heard the shriek of the girl as she hit the water. “Hang on!” He yelled diving under the water again to try and pull her out of it. He grabbed under her arms and swam up to the surface making his way to the edge of the pool as quickly as he could. Pulling her and himself ashore he flopped down exhausted from the swim. The girl coughed up a little water but other than that and being wet she was fine.
Still coughing she sat up and looked at Tenbris with a look of bewilderment written all over her face.
“Where did you come from?!” she gasped between her coughs.
“Uh, there's a crevasse in the rock over there.” Tenbris pointed to his hiding place.
Shivering a little she looked where he was pointing. “I don’t see it?” she said with confusion in her voice.
“It’s kind of hard to see, I go and stay there when I want to be alone for a while.”
They sat for a few moments awkwardly looking at their own hands, or anywhere other than the other person.
“I uh, liked your dancing!” Tenbris complimented, finding he couldn’t think of anything else to say at that moment.
“Oh, you saw me.” She flushed pulling her knees close to her.
“Yes, and then I fell into the water.” This brought a small chuckle from her.
“So, what’s your name?” Tenbris asked curiosity pricking at him.
“I’m Cari Moonspike! What’s yours?” Cari said, shaking the rest of the water off of her mask.
“Tenbris Nightdweller!” Cari paused her mask shaking.
“Nightdweller? Like as in the royal family?!” She looked at him finally seeing the family resemblance between the person in front of her and the paintings of the king. He looked even similar to the paintings of the prince she had seen. She looked at the mask around his neck. It was long and was mostly black with the right edge of it being white.
“You're the Prince?!” She shouted, nearly falling backwards.
“Well, yes?” Tenbris responded a little taken aback by her outburst.
“Dark’s reign,” Cari whispered, “Aren't you supposed to be at that big dance tonight?”
“Oh, yes that’s where I’m supposed to be right now, I just snuck out as soon as I could.” His father wanted him to be there. Having turned eighteen less than two weeks ago, Tenbris was old enough to be married.
“If I had known-” Cari started to say but just stopped mid-sentence.
“What?” Tenbris asked as Cari tied her mask back on.
“Well, if I had known that you were so nice, maybe I would have gone to one of those dances the king is trying to get you a fiance out of.” She almost mumbled, but not quiet enough that he couldn’t hear her.
Tenbris held one hand up for a moment before he let it drop to the ground. Trying to process what he just heard.
“I mean, I probably should have gone anyway, but I was sick the first night and everyone I knew that went didn’t say very nice things about you,” she continued almost to herself.
“Well, the first night I kind of just ignored everyone. My father had just told me that I should try my best to find a wife as soon as I could so I could begin,” he made a face, “‘Having heirs’ as he put it.”
Cari burst out laughing at that, “No wonder you have been so intent on not finding a fiance.”
Tenbris smiled at the sound of her laugh and laughed too at her response.
After they had both calmed down Cari said, “But, if you did meet someone who you did want to marry would you?”
“Oh, of course, I would! I just don’t see the need for the rush!” Tenbris responded.
“Didn’t your father get married when he was a lot older than you are right now?”
“Yes, he was thirty-nine I believe. I suppose that’s why he wants me to get married so soon.” He paused before he decided to elaborate, “My mother had always been sickly. Carrying me and giving birth really was the last thing her body could handle.” Some tears started to form in his eyes, “My parents were only together for all of two years before she died. I think my father believes that if he had found her sooner they could have been together longer. And he doesn't want anything like that to happen to me.”
Cari nodded, knowing what happened to the queen years prior.
“I guess I really can’t blame him.” Tenbris finally muttered, his earlier points sounding immature and stupid.
“Well, just because he went through all that doesn't mean you should sacrifice your own   because of it!” Cari said grabbing his shoulder, “If you don’t feel that you are ready to have that kind of commitment, then you shouldn’t be forced to do it!”
Tenbris stared at her for a moment before he smiled, “Thanks, I needed to hear that.” Cari smiled back at him.
“I, uh, should probably get back before I get in too much trouble.” Tenbris sighed, not wanting to go back to the dance dedicated to him meeting people.
“Would you like me to come with you?” Cari’s question caught him off guard and he just looked at her dumbfounded.
“I mean if you would rather if I don’t go-”
“NO! I would love if you came with me, you just surprised me!” Tenbris explained laughing a little at how silly he sounded.
“Oh, well we should get going right?” Cari said laughing a little too.
“Yeah.” They got up and began walking out of the cave and towards the place that Tenbris had first wanted to get away from. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if Cari was with him.
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ruluxe · 6 years
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Scaultrite City
Fandom: Voltron Legendary Defender Pairing: Lance/Loving Himself, Lance/Original Character Characters: Lance, Original Characters Tags: Aliens, Comedy, Lance-centric, Kissing, Marriage Proposal, Gift Fic Summary: Lance rescues a small ice planet from the Galra and its prince wants to thank him in a very peculiar way. Notes: My dear Tom asked me to write a fic where Lance gets appreciated, perhaps by a gorgeous alien prince. I hope I did their request justice. Love ya babe!
Read on Ao3
Lance cautiously follows the royal guard down the long stretch of hallway towards the throne room. They're dressed in long, heavy robes made from what looks like crushed velvet, soft blue in colour and fastened together with holo buttons. They march robotically, carrying slender poles that resemble a wizard’s staff, complete with an opalescent orb caged within a crystal claw.
The castle walls are made of glistening scaultrite. He remembers the ordeal Keith once had to go through to get some and wonders just how they managed to harvest this much from the belly of a weblum.
“You could make a thousand giant teluduvs out of this castle,” he says brightly, hoping to break the uncomfortable silence. The guards do not regard him.
He stops abruptly as they halt at a giant door, one tall enough to fit the whole of Voltron through. There are knockers made of scaultrite too and as one of the guards leans forward to lightly tap one against the door, Lance begins to get nervous. For once in his life he feels like his wit and charm might not be useful in this situation, he’s already tried a number of times. It isn't until another royal guard pokes it's pale grey face out a small and round peep door inside the larger one that Lance's mood lightens. He feels like he's seen this comical movement somewhere before.
They speak to each other in a foreign language, a series of mechanical whirs and clacks that sound more like heavy machinery struggling to start up rather than words that have any meaning. The guard behind the door shifts its beady black eyes towards Lance and then nods in understanding before shutting the smaller door.
He suddenly begins to sweat profusely under his paladin armour despite the frosty atmosphere. Lance tries to convince himself that this could only mean good things, but the guards’ stiffness doesn't put him at ease. He begins chewing on his bottom lip as the guards usher him inside. It’s funny that no matter how many times he's done this before, doing it alone makes this so much more nerve-wracking.
There’s a long swoosh and a booming thud, the sounds of a big and heavy deadbolt sliding to unlock. The doors open with a loud whining creak and Lance follows their lead.
Inside the throne room, guards form a line on either side of a navy carpet, stretching the distance of this very large space. They’re dressed differently in here, with tall garish caps and chin straps to hold them in place. Their robes are just as long but the collars resemble white feather boas and the cuffs remind Lance of faux fur hand muffs. Their weapons are spears made from scaultrite with tips so sharp they could pierce through the thickest of armour. None of them look at Lance, but rather through him as he walks. Like statues. It gives him the chills.
“Welcome,” a voice calls, silken and soft. It echoes off the hollowed walls.
Lance startles, it’s the first bit of English he’s heard since arriving on this planet, other than the slurs and curses of the Galran fleet he took out moments ago.
His eyes find the throne. It’s huge and jagged points make it look like an iceberg jutting out from the Arctic Ocean. Also made of scaultrite.
“No surprise there,” Lance mutters under his breath. Then his eyes fall to the being occupying it.
He expected to find a short, pudgy alien, like the rest of the residents in the city. They, like the guards, are slightly different in appearance, a light grey compared to the sickly, almost translucent colour of occupants outside the kingdom. Their faces are round like small moons, their irises pinprick black floating around mercury-like sclera but otherwise humanoid features. One nose, one mouth, normal teeth and oddly enough, human ears. It’s kind of jarring to look at, even though he’s seen his fair share of extraterrestrials.
Their leader, however, is much different.
He is strikingly handsome, with silvery skin and flowing white hair. His irises are an icy blue, stark against the dark sclera. Just under his eyes bear the mark of an Altean, though these are crystalline, dug deep into the leader’s cheekbones unnaturally and catch the light like the rest of the castle. Lance can't help but shudder with a peculiar intrigue. His ears are pointed and peek through strands of his hair, which Lance wonders if they are also in homage to the race. Atop the leader’s head is a scaultrite crown with five high points resembling shards of glass. In the front centre is the highest and widest, adorned with a large opalescent gem. He wears a long, midnight blue mantle over a futuristic looking bodysuit that looks and shines like it was made from mithril. It’s fashionable, Lance will admit, but practical and comfortable? He doubts it.
“I am Prince Oz,” he declares, rising from his throne.
Lance snorts and hysterical laughter follows. He knows now why everything had felt so familiar to him.
The prince cocks his head in confusion. “Why do you laugh?” he asks, his mouth quirking into a smile.
Lance tries to stifle it before he gets into trouble but can’t help himself. “Your name is Oz. Like the Oz? As in the Wizard of Oz?”
The smile drops from his face as he shakes his head, his brows knit pensively. “I do not know this wizard you speak of. In this kingdom, there is only one Oz and it is I, the great and powerful.”
“Yeah huh,” Lance agrees with a nod as he fights off another laughing fit. “It’s nice to meet you, Prince Oz, the great and powerful.” He bows as the prince steps down and suddenly that anxious knot is back and Lance has to wonder if these aliens are versed in linguistic nuance. All jokes aside, he must be serious now otherwise he’ll probably be beheaded before Blue can crash through this scaultrite palace to rescue him.
The prince takes his gloved hand and kisses it, and heat flushes Lance's cheeks. “I had my guards bring you here to thank you for saving our city. It has been under the Galra’s control for too long. We fought back at first but many of my people suffered and died at their hands.”
Lance stands, watches with confusion as the prince circles around him, skimming his long fingers along his paladin armour.
“You must be a very brave warrior on your planet. We have heard the legends of Voltron but have always wondered if our kingdom was too far out of its reach. For you to travel so far through thousands of galaxies to save our home from the Galra’s clutches says a lot about your character, paladin —”
The prince stops, slides his fingers under Lance's chin. They're surprisingly smooth and cool against the heat of his skin. Oz looks at him expectantly and realisation dawns on him.
“Lance,” he squawks, instantly chastising himself for producing such an undignified sound in front of royalty.
Oz tips his chin and smiles. Lance can see his reflection in the scaultrite boomerangs under the prince’s eyes.
“Lance… what a lovely name.”
Lance's heart is thudding in his chest. He isn't sure if he's flattered or terrified or a little bit of both. He laughs nervously, feet cemented to the scaultrite floor. “Thanks… And the whole saving your planet thing well, it was really nothing,” he says as modestly as possible but it sounds just as boastful as anything that comes out of his mouth.
“I beg to differ,” says the prince, coming full circle to stand in front of him. Lance hadn't realised how tall the other was before now. Not when his words are softly spoken and his height is quite clearly being used for intimidation. “Which is why I have prepared a feast in your honour to not only commemorate your bravery but to celebrate our union.”
Lance physically feels his eyes bulge out of their sockets and his heart jumps into his throat. “Our what?!” he chokes, leaping a step back away from the prince.
Oz smiles once again and though he's still gorgeous, his facial expressions are beginning to look a lot more nefarious. Even downright eerie. “Our union, of course. Your level of courage will be a quality that my people must learn to aspire to and my excellence will continue to expand this beautiful city until we are a force to be reckoned with. Together we will lead Scaultrite City — and possibly the universe — to greatness.”
Lance forces down the panic quickly rising from his gut. He isn't quite sure how to get out of this. “Uh, look man —” He stops himself in an attempt to smooth out the tremble in his voice but he also reminds himself that he is speaking with royalty. He clears his throat again after shooting a nervous glance over his shoulder. The guards are still in their places and have yet to start closing in. Even the prince remains at the foot of his throne. “I’m sorry, Prince Oz, but I can't marry you. I also can't stay here on your planet. I have a family back on my home planet that I miss a lot. My sister Veronica, my brothers Luis and Marco. My parents and grandparents. Besides, I already have some—”
Again Lance stops himself from finishing the sentence with someone I love. He has no idea how the prince would react to that. Instead, he says, “— other planets I have to rescue from the Galra.” He ends up puffing out his chest, if intentional he'll never really know. “Voltron needs me. They'd be lost without my mad skills.”
The prince stares at him in what Lance hopes is quiet consideration. He's sure if he makes it out alive, this will definitely be a story to tell, though he'll make sure he leaves out the part where he was so terrified at one point, he probably would have peed his pants.
Finally, after what seemed like one thousand decaphoebs, the prince nods. “I agree, Lance. It would be truly selfish of me to steal you away from your duties as a valiant paladin of Voltron. You must continue your mission.”
Lance shakes his head in shock. He doesn't think he heard right. “Are you serious? You're letting me go, just like that?”
It's the prince's turn to shake his head and he begins closing the distance between them. “I do not hold you captive, Lance. You are free to leave at any time.”
“But what about our union?” Lance blurts. He scolds himself internally for not being able to think before he speaks. He backs away from the prince as he gets closer when he hears a commotion behind him and his back hits against something preventing him from moving any further. His heart starts to race and his blood runs cold knowing that the guards behind him have just blocked his only exit and this is about to get real dangerous. Lance wonders if he should try and reach out to Blue but part of him feels guilty already at the thought of the lion destroying the castle to get to him. It is truly a stunningly marvellous building.
The prince leans forward and he takes Lance's head in his hands. He's even more beautiful up close. His hands are smooth as they caress Lance's skin, igniting a fire in Lance's cheeks. Despite the gentle motion, Lance is frightened, and his eyes squeeze shut as he tries to concentrate on calling out to his lion.
However, the link is broken when he feels the plush push of lips against his own. His heart stops for a minute, either out of terror or some other emotion he isn't quite sure has a name. His petrification only eases from here on out, beginning in the tips of his toes. A tingling warmth meanders through his icy veins, and Lance can't explain it himself but he finds himself embracing the kiss, gently grasping at the prince's cloak. He has no idea what he's doing.
The kiss doesn't last longer than a dobash, at least he thinks so. Lance isn't sure if he's disappointed or relieved by that fact. Either way, when their lips part, Lance is left in a hazy and wanting state. He has half a mind to chase that heat right back to the prince's mouth.
Luckily, the prince speaks.
“It is an open invitation shall you return. It was an honour to meet you, paladin Lance. I hope one day we meet again.”
Lance can feel the heat radiating off his entire body, certain that he'd melt ice should he be near it. He's rendered speechless, and happily so, lest he make a fool out of himself saying any number of things that would get him into trouble.
The prince turns on his heel and walks gracefully up the stairs to his throne. Lance watches in awe before stammering, “It— It was uh, very nice to m-meet a great and powerful prince like yourself.”
Gone is the resistance at his back and as Oz sits, Lance catches one more of his smiles, this one more genuine than the rest. “And never will again, I fancy. There is only one of I and I am it.”
Lance nods, feigning understanding, and turns to leave the throne room. The guards are back to lining a walkway, silent and statuesque for their tiny, fat bodies. The door is closed and there is no doorman in sight. Lance's anxiety returns.
“Uh,” he asks shakily, running his hand through his hair. “How do I get out of here?”
“All you must to do is to knock on the door three times and command the wormhole created to carry you wherever you wish to go,” Oz calls from his throne.
Lance turns to face the prince and almost laughs. “Are you saying I've gotta tap three times and repeat 'there's no place like home ’?”
“If home is where you desire,” replies Oz. The marks on his face Lance had assumed were fake until now begin to glow as he places both hands over orbs on the armrests of his throne Lance had failed to notice before. Maybe he was some form of an alternate universe Altean after all.
He marvels for a moment, even more in awe than before. This is probably simultaneously the coolest and weirdest thing that's ever happened to him since this journey began. It makes him think of home, where there are vast valleys of green and blue skies with the fluffiest of clouds; crystal blue oceans and the people he loves most. Where things move at a slower pace but that's okay because he'd get to savour the moments. Yet he knows if he had never come here, he would never have found his place in the world, would have never have known what it's like to be part of a team that needs him. A universe that needs him. He would have never come to value his own self-worth.
So, as desperate as he is to go home to be with his family, Lance does not knock three times and wish for that. Instead, he closes his eyes and thinks of his other family, and the home he's found in them.
And he knocks.
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