#marian was supposed

[contrivedcoincidences6]

Me, so naïve: I’m going to play Surana, romance Alistair, and keep him a Warden. I’m sure I’ll be fine leaving Hawke in the fade.

Me, after romancing Fenris: what the fuck am I supposed to do now?

[blake-ritson-love]

Taking their fate into their own hands. What will this season have in store for them? (@gildedagehbo on Instagram)

[whodunnett1526]

“It is not that he can’t protect himself, but that he won’t. He is like a dog. He thinks every man is his friend.” - Niccolo Rising, Chapter 9

(aka this reread is gonna kill me)

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Daughter of the House of Dreams: A Fragment

Author's Note: This is the opening to a long-abandoned "Sleeping Beauty" retelling that I no longer plan to write, but I still like it as a piece of prose, and it sparked my enduring interest in second-person narration, so it feels relevant, and why should long-dead authors be the only ones who get to have their unfinished fragments published?

If you ever travel to Monetta City, be sure to visit Faraway Lane. Walk past the glittering new shops, and the shoppers in their bright silk dresses and top hats, and you'll find a cozy stone shop at the end of the street. This shop isn't grand and mighty like the other shops. It won't sniff and turn you away if your clothes aren't the latest fashion. It's a grandmotherly old shop that shakes its head at the prancing and preening of the younger shops, and invites you in instead. It holds no wares in its windows; it hardly has windows at all. But it has a warm and wide wooden door, with a shingle hanging above—Alessia Day, maker of dreams.

Don't ponder the sign's message too long—it means exactly what it says. Just slip inside, shut the door behind you, and look. Don't breathe too deeply, unless you want a week of crazy dreams, but allow yourself one gasp of astonishment. You won't be able to stop yourself. No living person has failed to feel awe toward the rows and rows of shelves, longer than streets and taller than palaces, filled to bursting with glass bottles in such bright colors that the dresses in the other shops' windows would weep in envy. Some bottles are the size of thumbnails. Most fit comfortably in the palm. Some are as large as breadboxes or steamer trunks or carriage horses, but the shelves manage to fit them all. And each bottle is filled to the brim with dreams.

If you don't understand, ask Alessia Day. You'll find her at a counter half a mile from the door, polishing bottles and humming a song you've heard but can't remember. She's an old woman now, and proud of it, but squint your eyes and start to daydream, and you'll see her as I remember her—a willow-wand girl with shining brown hair and eyes that sparkle with half-formed jokes.

Tell this girl how pretty she is (she'll laugh and call you crazy) and ask about her dreams. She'll tell you of her stock and sell you any dream you ask for—daydreams and pipe dreams, dreams of love, dreams of adventure, dreams of loved ones lost and loved ones found and people you've never met but wish you had. She'll show you dreams of lush and perfect islands, dreams where fishes fly through the air, and dreams where people swim the seas with fishes' tails. She'll pull down dreams that last a second but linger a lifetime, dreams that fill a month of stormy nights, dreams that fade on waking and dreams that drown out memories. If you let her, she'll talk of dreams until you drift off, and she'll bottle up your dream while you doze.

But if you're smart (I know you are) you'll step to the counter with a clear glass bottle, empty of everything but air, and ask for her story instead. She'd distill it in a dream for you, and be glad to do it—I once saw her whip it up in half a minute, and I'll bet she's even faster now. Buy the dream, but don't drink it right away. You won't be ready for it. Linger in the shop a while. Hear the story first from Alessia Day's lips, in that voice of hers that's sweeter than singing.

You won't believe half of it, but when you stagger from the shop and wander the empty, starlit streets, you'll ponder over passages until you stumble into bed at sunrise. And when you wake, the world will be different—you'll see tiny footprints on the windowsills, know things about the shadows on the walls, tip your hat to creatures in the corner of your eye, and realize there is another color no one else can see. You'll laugh and call it your imagination, but every second Tuesday, you'll start to wonder if the old woman was right, if the things she told you were true.

If you drink the dream she made, you'll know. I'll understand if you don't—some things are easier not to know. But if you do, and dream through her story, come to my house and ring the bell. My man will let you in—he'll know you by the wonder on your face. He'll bring you to my study, set you in my oldest, softest chair, and get us both settled with a steaming pot of tea. Then, once you've finished babbling, I'll close my eyes and tell you my part in the tale.

[crossyourheartspreparetodie]

Allen: *tilts head and blinks up at me with those big innocent silver eyes*

Me: *inwardly panics because he's cute but I can't let him know I have feelings like a normal person*

Me, blurts out from panic: You're disgusting you have crumbs all over your face.

[ladyofpembroke]

I feel like we haven’t seen much interaction between Marian and Bertha and George this season and I’ve really missed it. I feel like there could be doylist and Watsonian reasons for it.

For the watsonian reasons, in s1 the Russells had few friends in high society, Marian was one of the first to break with convention to socialize with them. In s2, they are pretty established in society and have chosen to associate with those of higher societal prospects as well as those rich enough to buy a box at the metropolitan. They have invited Marian to a few events, enough to not be rude, but have left her off the list for more prominent events.

For Doylist reasons, I think one of the reasons that Marian has been interacting less with the older Russells is because Louisa Jacobson’s lack of large age gap with Carrie Coon and Morgan Spector. Louisa is 32, Carrie and Morgan are 42 and 43, respectively. While the actors who play the Russells children are also playing younger and are 30 and 29, their characters are played as somewhat more immature than Louisa plays Marian. Last season, the interactions between Marian and the older Russells felt (to me at least) less like a young woman talking to someone around her parents’ age and more like peers talking. Maybe the writers felt this way too and sought to create some social distance between them.

[persephoneggsy]

they’re going to a party~

[gibberishquestion]

yhear about digital painting

[shinceltyblewup]

I miss Morrowind. Nerevar is one of the coolest characters of our time and he only exists in the form of an absence. A hole where something once was...

[fideidefenswhore]

a lot of mary stans do act like she was henry's "real" heir, certainly to dig at elizabeth, sometimes even edward. it's kind of weird bc they bring in kofa's ancestors to prove mary was more royal and so "deserved" to be queen, like it's more "fitting" that way even when her right to the throne comes from henry so who her maternal family is doesn't matter when it comes to who inherits the english throne.

they don't actually say it aloud, but they try pushing a narrative that since mary was queen after all, that proves everything henry did 1527+ was a waste of time and he should've just accepted mary was his heir and got on with life.

and the fact mary didn't have the best reign irl doesn't count to them bc all the problems she had never would've happened as england would've totally stayed 100% catholic and she'd have had about 20 kids and been the best queen ever.

it's funny bc in this au they don't seem to account for kofa probably still dying before henry meaning he could've easily remarried and had at least one son anyway. and who knows when he would've died so there's no guarantee henry accepting things would mean mary was ever queen.

i find it really hard to read anything about her bc of these people. they say they love mary but seem to prefer their au version over the real thing, like we should celebrate the perfect icon they just know she would've been which never existed, instead of actually studying who she was.

i have little to say except that i largely agree...

yeah, the...the succession act of 1543 in particularly they seem to....selectively.... understand? like, the language of that act is pretty clear. mary and elizabeth were both considered illegitimate under it, and so mary was not set as heir before elizabeth because henry 'secretly' (...lol) considered her 'more legitimate', but because she was the elder. mary also seems to have been the only heir in the sucession act whose inheritance was conditional upon the caveat that she would have to safeguard the new church settlement (although, mary and elizabeth's inheritance had the identical proviso that they could not marry without the consent of council, one which does not seem to have applied to edward vi).

[catebees]

Dug out this drawing from two years ago that I'm probably never gonna finish

Marian barely even looks like that now

[a-heart-of-kyber]

I read an article that stated that a)Regina was a better character and b)that she was a better character than Hook partly because of the fact she struggled with her darkness.

Excuse me?

Hook struggled with his darkness all the time. The difference is his struggle was about unworthiness and shame and not crying because omg you aren't getting what you want Again directly because of whether or not someone Died because of you or omgee I'm going to be a petty asshole and do a murder because someone slighted me in such an infinitesimal way that a normal person wouldn't typically bat an eye at.

God is she the worst and, no, not in a fun way.

[sag-dab-sar]

"The Sorrowful Mother Was Standing"

Our Lady of Sorrows – 5th Sorrow: At the Cross of Her Son

Stabat Mater Caswall English Translation:

At the Cross her station keeping, stood the mournful Mother weeping, close to her Son to the last.

Through her heart, His sorrow sharing, all His bitter anguish bearing, now at length the sword has passed.

O how sad and sore distressed was that Mother, highly blest, of the sole-begotten One.

Christ above in torment hangs, she beneath beholds the pangs of her dying glorious Son.

Is there one who would not weep, whelmed in miseries so deep, Christ's dear Mother to behold?

Can the human heart refrain from partaking in her pain, in that Mother's pain untold?

For the sins of His own nation, She saw Jesus wracked with torment, All with scourges rent:

She beheld her tender Child, Saw Him hang in desolation, Till His spirit forth He sent.

O thou Mother! fount of love! Touch my spirit from above, make my heart with thine accord:

Make me feel as thou hast felt; make my soul to glow and melt with the love of Christ my Lord.

Holy Mother! pierce me through, in my heart each wound renew of my Savior crucified:

Let me share with thee His pain, who for all my sins was slain, who for me in torments died.

Let me mingle tears with thee, mourning Him who mourned for me, all the days that I may live:

By the Cross with thee to stay, there with thee to weep and pray, is all I ask of thee to give.

Virgin of all virgins blest!, Listen to my fond request: let me share thy grief divine;

Let me, to my latest breath, in my body bear the death of that dying Son of thine.

Wounded with His every wound, steep my soul till it hath swooned, in His very Blood away;

Be to me, O Virgin, nigh, lest in flames I burn and die, in His awful Judgment Day.

Christ, when Thou shalt call me hence, be Thy Mother my defense, be Thy Cross my victory;

While my body here decays, may my soul Thy goodness praise, Safe in Paradise with Thee.

.🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️.

I found this hymn today. It is a part of the Liturgy of Our Lady of Sorrows. Being that it is her Feast Day I thought I would share it. It describes Virgin Mary standing at the cross of her Son weeping for him, in the hymn we implore her to allow us to join her in her sorrow. It is quite beautiful. The 5th Sorrow is watching her son die, grief beyond words for any parent, and she stood there with strength.

Credits

"The first English translation by Edward Caswall is not literal but preserves the trochaic tetrameter rhyme scheme and sense of the original text." — Wikipedia

Audio on Youtube

Album cover art taken from AirMaria; Artist not attibuted

Artwork is a statue from Church of the Holy Cross, Salamanca, Spain

-I am not Christian.

-Dyslexic, not audio proof read-

[josh-xd-2004]

Yeah, now everyone is under arrest XD.

At first I wanted a Scarlett x Little John but in the end I included Robin x Marian and the rest of the three characters that don't even have a partner (and no ship in the last one).

[nomaishuttle]

the post office closes at 6pm.. do u want me to kms.

[mxcottonsocks]

Between those two young hearts I had stood, to sunder them for ever, the one from the other, and his life and her life lay wasted before me alike in witness of the deed. I had done this, and done it for Sir Percival Glyde. - Marian Halcombe, The Woman in White, Second Epoch: Part 5

I can sort of understand why Marian feels guilty about this, but also I can't help but think things would have turned out pretty much the same, even if she hadn't taken such an active role in breaking Laura and Walter apart? I don't know, Laura just seemed to put a lot of stock in the idea of her father's last wish, and I don't think Marian refusing to be the one to have the conversation with Walter would have made a difference to the eventual outcome.