#related to: fallen crown | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prince-kallisto · 4 months

Text

Taking their Left Hand: A Deal with the Devil

I find it fascinating that now with the release of Crowley’s card and his groovy art, the “extending of the hand” theme has become even stronger. But now that I am looking at Crowley, Malleus, and the hand in the mirror, I noticed they are all extending their left hand!

In traditional superstitions, left handed people were associated with the Devil or just overall bad luck and clumsiness (sad to hear as a lefty myself 🤣). It is to the point that in the past, and in some cases in the present, that left handed children were forced to learn how to write with their right hand through the use of physical punishments or straight up tying their left hand down so they couldn’t use it. But where does this malicious association come from?

It varies from both culture and religion, but this book from 1891 covers the basics of it. Greek and Latin translations of “left” has several negative connotations related to clumsiness, ill omens, and in Latin it directly means “sinister.” Some lore also mentions that the left road is “the road to ruin,” and Scottish folklore even say that it is an ill omen to meet a left handed person when setting out on your journey. …Let’s put a pin on this particular note and return to it soon 👀

You may notice that in Christian iconography, God is often depicted with significance to his right hand- the “right hand of God” being his favored hand, and his left hand is the hand of judgment (The Archangel Gabriel is also known as “God’s left hand”). This is seen most clearly in the parable of sheep and goats, where the sheep are on his right side will “inherit the kingdom of god,” and the goats on his left are the fallen souls who will “depart from me… in everlasting fire.” The “right hand of God” is also used as a metaphor for his omnipotence.

This is where the Devil being associated with the left hand begins to grow. You’ll often see in art (such as cartoon or in movie cinematography) of an angel and Devil being on someone’s shoulder- and the devil is nearly always on the left- because it was believed evil spirits and even the Devil himself watched over one from the left shoulder. Some believed in the 17th century that the Devil “baptized” his followers with his left hand. And in the infamous statue of “Le Génie du Mal” (The Genius of Evil or the Spirit of Evil), Lucifer is depicted crying from his left eye, and holding a broken scepter and crown in his left hand. Notice the bitten apple below his feet, and how his left hand is also chained!

In western esotericism, there is a concept of the “left-hand path” and “right-hand path.” Right-hand path magic is light magic and associated with good and the right hand. Whereas the left-hand path is black magic, associated with evil, “amorality,” and the left hand. (Important to Note: Although the left-hand path is highly associated with black magic, it is not the same as what the left-hand path is. Many occultists critique this definition, some saying these paths don’t necessarily refers to good or bad magic. It is more the idea of amorality and seeking power and freedom through breaking constrictions, whereas true right-hand path has stricter moral codes and believe in the idea of karma/judgement)

It was even believed that witches greeted the Devil with their left hand. Women who were left handed or even had natural markings on the left side of the body were accused off being a witch during the time of the Salem Witch trials, and burned alive for it.

Now that we’ve went over this, what does this ACTUALLY mean for Crowley, Malleus, and the hand in the mirror? Returning to the pin I left earlier, meeting this left handed person is an ill omen, a road to ruin. Crowley and the hand in the mirror are the FIRST scene in the game, with Crowley even saying to take the hand in the mirror. This phrase of his is repeated throughout trailers and the manga.

Malleus is technically never the “first” person we really meet. He is notably absent at the opening ceremony, and even though he makes mysterious appearances at Ramshackle, it’s never really the “first” 🤔 BUT when we look back at Book 7, Malleus is essentially making everyone reborn into a new world without sorrow. And this scene is also where he says to take his hand. With Malleus recreating the world, he is the “first” to introduce you to it, and by taking his hand, it is the beginning of a new journey. Notice how his live 2D model has him using his left hand for magic in these scenes as well!

Crowley’s opening ceremony where he unlocks the coffins to wake everyone up feels very much like a parallel to Malleus being the orchestrator of the dreams- everyone is asleep and can only wake up by his command. We don’t yet know the identity of the hand in the mirror, but I do think it’s interesting that the Dark Mirror is the one who states that the nature of Yuu’s soul is shapeless and colorless.

And and, in official art, Malleus is frequently the one front in center, sometimes directly associated with the hand in the mirror. In this art above, there’s is the idea of the true “happily ever after,” where a crow with a key (Crowley’s symbol) is in front of the Dark Mirror, right above Malleus. All three of them are directly connected with a column of light 🤔

And and and, in Malleus’ Glorious Masquerade card and Crowley’s Raven Jacket groovy, don’t they look like they’re reaching out as a gesture of salvation or mercy? The way the light is always above on them only as they reach their hand out to you…and in Crowley’s card, the perspective is taken from inside the coffin- likes he’s leading you out/waking you from your death or something- even though he looks a bit sinister in his art🤔

Now, this is not to say that I think Crowley and Malleus are evil characters (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*) I do think there is purposeful symbolism with their left hand being an “ill omen” and associated with Devil imagery, but when I think about the left-hand path vs right-hand path, it feels like taking their hand symbolizes both freedom AND the road to ruin. Remember Crowley’s lines in the prologue- they are all running out of time, and Malleus in book 7 is looking for the happy ending. I think the story of Twisted Wonderland is inevitably a story that goes down the road to ruin, but these characters are looking for some hope in this darkness 🤔 Crowley has hope in Yuu and Grim in that they can change everything- and this change will indeed bring a lot of necessary suffering to it for the good of everyone.

I hope what I’m trying to say makes sense! 🤣 I think these parallels are really interesting, but in the end I don’t really know what they mean 🤣 I’d like to hear everyone’s thoughts on this pattern and your interpretation of things- there’s a lot of possibilities that I have never thought of! \(//∇//)\

I’d also appreciate any insight/needed correction for the biblical texts 🤔 I am not religious- so there’s possibly things I missed (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*) I have actually considered reading the full text of some sections of the Bible and such religious texts tho for Twisted Wonderland just because I’ve made several theories by now connecting to biblical lore 😭 One day perhaps- anything for my Crowley theories 🤣 I’d like to cover connections to Faust, Paradise Lost and maybe Dante’s Inferno too one day, so…my reading list is stacking up! 🤣

#twisted wonderland #twst #dire crowley #twst dire crowley #twst spoilers #twst theory #twst crowley #twst malleus #twst malleus draconia #kallistopost

183 notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

Note

Can I have a Yan genderbend of Maleficent? Or the very least in a yandere pletonic relationship with them?

Yandere Genderbend Maleficent x Reader

You couldn’t believe you used to admire your family’s ignorance. You internally screamed as you listened to your family further embarrass themselves. They were so deluded by your great-grandfather’s pact, they had become set in the avarice founded from it.

Long ago your great-grandfather had done the impossible. Defeating the fae army and even reclaiming the fallen land before establishing a functional militia there. Earning those honor-driven fae’s respect made your kingdom one to be praised in legend and stories to come. Some suspected you were a puppet state, and others wondered if you had a secret item that had the fae yielding to you. But you knew the truth. You were the only one who actually devoted time to the archives and private libraries. Actually yearning to know the truth. What you found was a successful mission to show the value of humanity. Your great-grandfather had befriended the young fae responsible for the war and somehow convinced him to explore the intricacies of the kingdom. The kingdom was filled with joy and a general consensus to be good. It sounded like paradise. The letters proved that the great fae thought precisely the same which is why he raised no alarm when he grew close with the prince–your grandfather. This relationship would be scandalous, judging by the letters both were torn between letting them be together. The fae was madly in love easily sharing his devotions with his friend, only for the king to show concern. For he knew his child and believed it would lead to their doom. As the king aged his authority was no longer uncontested and it was easy for his nobles to offer his throne in reward for control of the fae. It wasn’t long before your grandfather returned wings in hand and was crowned as the greatest king to be. It wouldn’t be until that same fae returned to curse your mother that the situation would intensify. The story would tell of the princess cursed to sleep through her own pregnancy and the future king that would slay the dragon that was that revenge-stricken fae.

They thought the body had faded because they had won. They were wrong.

“Oh, King of Fae can’t bygones be bygones?! After all your family and ours were great friends.”

You cringed as the green magic seemed to flare up once again. You bit your tongue, for the time being, your parents were completely oblivious to the friendly relations you continued to nurture with various fae.

“Yeah! What more do you want?! At this rate your just going to keep coming back to scam us or something.”

Your foolish brother piped in. Of course, he wouldn’t be aware of the true nature of the king before him. Nor of the power he possessed. You were lucky he hadn’t sucked the life out of everyone in this room.

“...I need proof of your loyalty to me. Something prized by your people.” Eyes hauntingly green roamed the room before landing on the oldest prince. “Someone precious.”

“Oh heavens! No, please!” Your mother cried leaning into your father who was visibly sweating.

“I’d rather die than give my son to you! Surely there is a gem or item you’d wish from us.”

The fae glowered. “No. Anything I want I can have. Anything I want I can take. Besides you, humans are hardly grasping what I want! Give me your prize!”

Prince Phil opened his mouth in a plea before being interrupted by the clicking of his younger sibling's heels. Poised and focused they easily attracted the attention of everyone in the room. Servants, guards and the royal family alike watched as the youngest royal came closer to the towering fae. If it weren’t for the situation he would have turned up his nose, the little parasite had done nothing but ruin his right to the throne. Not in the official light–his parents had always loved him more: they told him so themselves. But among the guards, the people, the servants, and even assassins had no stronger loyalty than to them. An embarrassment to the one birthed to wear it. He couldn’t stand (Y/n)!

Nonetheless, he watched as they bowed, practically on their knees to the fae distastefully dragging their cape on the ground. A shameful appearance for someone of royal blood; no matter how despicable.

They spoke, “Forgive us, my King. They are unaware of your history with the rulers of this kingdom and in no way are a reflection of the people who revere your existence.”

The green glow that had been permeating off the horned guest seemed to lessen as he watched blankly at (Y/n)’s plea. I could hear the scoldings they no doubt would receive, not to mention the punishments. What would it be? No more horse riding? Banned from the kitchen? Restricted from traveling? Oh, the possibilities were endless…

The fae didn’t speak which allowed (Y/n) to speak once again.

“I fear that my family has not much to spare…but if you’d be willing I offer myself to you.”

“(Y/n)! Speak no more!” Father called with more worry than I expected. But they continued looking into the monster’s glowing eyes as if to manipulate him as they had done with so many others.

“If you’d be willing your Grace, let me be your prize!” Tilting his head he seemed to consider before looking at father who had looked away. His lips opened to speak before another interruption occurred.

“(Y/n) please don’t do this!”

“Master please consider!”

“We’ll go!”

“Yes! Please you mustn’t this kingdom needs ya!”

Many of the lowly servants dropped to their knees calling out from behind the guards who were hardly doing anything to restrain them. Sneering I had half a mind to strike them now but I wasn’t a fool; decorum was important even for the company of a monster.

(Y/n) seemed to falter before continuing to bow to the creature, who tilted his head once more and smiled in amusement.

“I was worried I was being offered a worthless prize…” Withdrawing a clawed hand from his robe he lifted their chin and trembling lips. Smiling devilishly as that green fire around him flared.

“But I realize this is the fabled Shadow Dove, the silent pacifist between our peoples. Continuing to keep the…altruism within your kingdom.”

Father made a grumbled murmur from his beard and Mother looked just as surprised as me. I paid no mind as he made (Y/n) rise with a pull of their hand. He moved around them to step closer to our thrones. I drew my sword ignoring the shaking as I pointed in his direction. He looked to me, monstrous eyes keeping me at a distance he turned to look at father and mother smiling with that horrifying display of teeth. Staff in hand the green flare seemed to spout from the staff in a frightening display.

“I prophesy that when I take your Dove, your kingdom will crumble. From within its own walls your rule will end! From those ashes, I will take your kingdom and the last of your blood will be mine. ” He scoffed as mother shook intensely before mumbling something to himself…”That is if it survives from my own.”

With a slapping gust of wind and a pull of his robe; the only evidence that he was here was the singed marks against the carpet.

____________________________________________________________

As expected, the moment Maleficent left your mother broke into tears attracting the attention of your father and brother. Allowing you to leave quickly; as you were sure the anger behind their fear was bubbling. No doubt they’d somehow take it out on you, even as you were solely responsible for their lives.

“Oh, Master!”

“Do ya really h’ve ta go?”

“Will ya visit?”

Running into the arms of your family you let your shoulders sag. You let your worry show as you confided in them. To think the only people in the castle who were least literate were more aware of how much the monarchy relied on them than the actual people in power. You prepared yourself accordingly, sending letters to nobles, trade partners, and allies. Disclosing all the information so they knew where your country was at. You fiddled with your plume as you debated reporting Maleficent’s prophecy.

*Tap Tap*

You eyed past your pile of papers at the door. Seeing no one you continued to work

*Tap Tap*

You looked up again, with more vigor. You needed to focus on the good of your kingdom.

*Tap Tap*

“Alright, alright. I’m coming “ You began your search of the room looking frantically for the cause. Only to find it past your reflection in the window. You opened it letting the crow with something in its feet fly into your office.

“Well hello there.”

You carefully stroke the corvid as you unwrap the delivery. It was a letter and a vial filled with a liquid that seemed to change color under the light of the fire.

Dearest (Y/n),

In preparation for our marriage, I have sent to you an elixir. It is to ensure good health as the days count down before I come to retrieve you. I am willing to let you do what you will before I collect you. If there should be any circumstances that lead to you not drinking the elixir or otherwise damaging my prize I will speed that process up, with extreme prejudice.

–Maleficent

You eyed said elixir with great suspicion but after flashing a look of question to the—shrugging(?) crow, you downed it. Hacking at the burn that ran from your mouth to your esophagus you staggered onto your office couch. Scratching at the cushions you tried to refrain from screaming at the pain. It felt like your blood was boiling; thankfully your body felt the same and allowed you to fall into pain-numbing sleep.

The crow tilted its head, watching with beady eyes at the shivering human on the couch. Seeing that the human was still breathing the crow set to take off before being interrupted. Harsh knocking led before the door swung open to reveal a man dressed in royal robes. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he stepped towards the couch. He seemed to hesitate before shakily withdrawing the sword from its scabbard, raising it above your sleeping head.

“CAW!”

The corvid call startled the wielder, fearfully returning the sword to its resting place. He looked at the bird with a scoff, making moves to scare it away before stalking out of your office. Seeing as the letter was delivered and its receiver followed instructions, the crow flew away returning to its master.

The following morning, you continued to work having a vague recollection of the delivery. You pressed on, working diligently to organize the kingdom’s assets as best as you could. You held your face in your hands having finally sent your signature on a national ordinance. Preparing for your complete absence was harder than you thought. With the news of your engagement, the people were in a panic: riots, spreading hysteria, and massive scales of evacuation. Thousands of letters from allies and nobles alike begging to go to war instead of your marriage. It was too much for one person to take, especially if you were not nearly as experienced as a certain king should be. Speaking of the failures+ royal family they haven’t made an effort to speak to you. You couldn’t decide whether it was because they blamed you or were finally accepting how little they did on their own.

“Your highness…your parents invited you to dinner?” Your maid spoke unassuredly, if he was befuddled by the notion of inviting someone you live with to eat or that they reached out at all you couldn’t tell. Nonetheless, you accepted, making quick work of the remaining paperwork so that you could finally breathe. Savoring the cobblestone walls you had grown with: cried upon, slept on, dragged your fingers along. Doing the same in your adulthood you fought your tears as you realized how much you’d missed your home and the people maintaining it.

Arriving at the dining hall the king, queen, and their son was already seated digging into their food refusing to pause to acknowledge your entry. You sat at the farthest place setting with nothing on the plate your internally groaned. This was going to be a blood bath. A maid hurried to your side with foods you didn’t like silently apologizing; you deduced this was on purpose as you deadpanned to your family. With nothing but the cacophonous consumption to fill the echoing chamber of the dining hall. Only when you heard the clinking of silverware and the loud sucking of fingers that it seemed they were done.

“Are you not hungry? Are you so fickle that you won’t eat before we drink?” The king jovially chuckled as he wiped his greasy fingers on the vestigial robes your forefathers had worn before. In his laughing, the queen joined in. Phil did not. Instead, he diligently stared at his glass, staying still as he let a maid pour the red wine. You did not join in their laughter even as everyone’s glass was filled, including yours. You eyed the glass suspiciously even as they were already helping themselves to sip.

-DoN’T dRink ThIS-

Whatever that was, you agreed refusing to so much as touch the glass.

The king coughed for attention, raising his refilled glass as he gestured towards you. “Now we toast to the new beginnings that come with the relations beyond!”

The queen clapped to her husband before downing what had to be her third glass, the king downed him, but Phil did not. He seemed to be glaring at the glass as he violently swished the liquid in his glass.

You still didn’t touch your glass even as their contented expressions transformed into nervous looks. Eyes darting from your glass to one another king and queen visibly began to sweat and shift in their seats.

“Uhm (Y/n) dear why don’t you join us for our toast?” The queen nervously chuckled.

“I don’t want to.”

“M-maybe you just don’t want to eat on an empty stomach. Serv-”

“No, I just do not want to drink this.”

In a nervously shared eye contact your parents turned toward you as they fruitlessly pleaded that you drink the wine. All the more reason to believe something was amiss. They continued their desperate pleas as you stood to leave.

“I excuse myself. I have other matters to attend to-”

“No, you don’t!” Phil exclaimed springing from his chair, drawing his sword out, and pointing it at you. You faltered in your route looking to the exit where the guards were posted to see the queen barring the doors. Moving backward with the blade’s tip pointed toward you stopped when you felt the coolness of the wall.

“You’ve sunk your poisoned talons into this kingdom and I’m taking you out of it!” Phil screamed but you screamed right back.

“You idiot! Do you realize if you harm a single hair on my head this kingdom is doomed?! Maybe that wouldn’t have been the case if you had any semblance of the state of the kingdom!”

Your explanation seemed to make him hesitate only for him to come even closer letting the frigidness of the flat side of the blade sit on your neck. You could see the sweat on his brow and your parents working to hold the door. Fearing it is your last opportunity you looked to the narrow windows that showed the faraway lights of the town below and that crow who was sat with another message around its foot. You snapped back to attention as Phil screamed once more.

“Aaagh! Y-you couldn’t just have drunk the wine, you just had to do this…But I’ll DO IT! FOR MY KINGDOM!”

He swiped the blade across your neck before swiping again at your chest. You fell to the floor as you held the parts that burned with searing pain, writhing as you felt more blood rush over your hands. Worried you’d be succumbing to your death you let yourself silently cry as you lost the strength to hold your arms up. Your vision was spotty. All you could hear was the deafened pounding against the door, Phil’s crying, the comfort that followed from the queen…your mother

“W-what is that?! What is this?! Witchcraft?”

The blade was pointed at what would have been your corpse if it weren’t for your blood turning into a silver color and receding back into your body. The wounds you had began to close before stopping as you slumped to the ground. The royal family waited in silence as they watched you lay there. Still and unmoving they came closer to poke at your body hoping that you would remain so. But before they could do so the castle began to shake, windows shattered, and a storm surged outside. Hair and capes whipping in the wind it only took a flash of green lightning for the fae king had arrived.

“To think it took only three dolts to further your kingdom’s destruction; humans continue to amaze me.”

Maleficent spoke candidly before carefully pulling you up into his arms. Phil foolishly stuck his sword out towards the fae.

“So what are you going to do, huh?! Burn me with fire for hurting your precious little prize?!”

He shook as Malleus turned towards him staring him down with that intimidating glare and flare of magic.

“Hahaha!”

He laughed flashing his elongated fangs and letting Phil and the family sigh.

“No. Thanks to my productivity they’re not dead,” there was a breath of relief. One that was short-lived,” but your town will though and by tomorrow everyone will know why. Adieu.”

Nodding his head to the staff and guard that had broken through the doors and pointed accusatorially at the royal family as they watched Maleficent teleport away; beginning the disruption that would spur the prophecy they’d been given.

______________________________________________________________

When you awoke you felt an ache all throughout your body, making your awakening a slow mission. Looking around you weren’t in your home, instead, you were in a darker place with walls of stone and torches of green fire. Barely tilting your head, you laid eyes on that crow kirking its head in your direction before flying off. You had the urge to follow struggling to move with your achy legs and IV pumping something silver into your veins. Unplugging it as you hobbled out of your room, you relied on the cold feeling of your bare feet against the floor to wake you up as you followed the waiting crow.

It felt like you were walking a maze blindly following the corvid as he led you through the barren hallways. Finally sitting still he cawed on a rootlike perch that sat alongside the grand thorned throne in which Maleficent sat with legs spread open in attire much more relaxed than his usual cape. You stared inawe curious if you were dreaming.

“Come Dove. Sit with me. You have destroyed your first kingdom; here we bask in the glory of our immense superiority.”

“B-but I’m nothing but spoils from that destruction…if I should be so bold.”

He smiled. A smile of amusement as you retained your demeanor even in something as simple as your night cloth.

“Sit, (Y/n). I have already found you worthy of this honor. You are mine after all.”

You bowed before stepping up the stairs to his throne and letting yourself sit upon the leg of the fae King. Trying to still your heart as his hand wraps around your waist and pulls you close to cast a spell on a hovering ball of water.

“Now my Dove, let us watch their prophecy become reality.”

#yandere genderbend maleficent #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere maleficent #yandere genderbent disney #yandere genderbent maleficent #yandere male maleficent #yandere fairy tale #yandere disney #yandere disney x reader #yandere disney genderbent #yanderes #yandere #yandere male

1K notes · View notes

nightghoul381 · 4 months

Text

Ellis Twilight~ Route Preview translation

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

The happiness he gives me is like a thick, simmering sweet jam, entwined in my heart—I can’t escape it.

“I’ll stop time with the ultimate happiness, so…be mine forever.”

When I met you I found happiness. And this love—is going to kill me.

My evil is—The desire that entangles you.

Ellis: “…You’re a cute person.”

Ellis: “I’d like to ask to assist you with your first job in your ‘new department’…is that okay?”

Ellis Twilight—The young man with twilight eyes,

I forgot about the uneasy feeling I had felt at first impression,

He was a person who devotedly spread happiness to everyone, anytime, anywhere.

Victor: “Miss Kate’s life will be at risk before her contract expires—”

Victor: “—This means that Crown’s confidential information is also at risk! Isn’t that so?”

Ellis: “Yeah.”

Jude: “…I got a bad feeling.”

Victor: “So, Jude, Ellis.”

Victor: “I want the two of you to take responsibility and protect Miss Kate!”

Life with Crown, which is even involved in assassinations, is full of ups and downs.

Ellis: “…You’re a hard worker.”

Kate: “Eh? That’s not true.”

Ellis: “…Nah, it is.”

Ellis: “You’re a lovely person, Miss Kate.”

Ellis: “If you don’t like it, let me know… If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep together like this.”

Kate: “…Why?”

Ellis: “So you don’t get anxious.”

Ellis: “…Is that no good?”

Ellis’ kindness, like thick, sweet jam, has always enveloped my heart.

I’m drowning in that happiness-to the point that I’m so entangled in it I can’t escape.

Kate: “It’s not just about making the other person happy.”

Kate: “I think it would be better for you to become lovers with someone who you want to have by your side forever.”

Ellis: “I…Always by my side?”

Ellis: “...I’m sorry, I was scared.”

Ellis: “I wish you would close your eyes, so you wouldn’t see it.”

(Ellis, are you okay?)

He puts his feelings and desires in a secret box deep in his chest and stubbornly keeps a lid on them,

With the same hands and same expressions that spread happiness, he can easily take away lives.

I want to know –what’s inside that secret box that Ellis’ twisted heart keeps tightly closed.

Ellis: “…Okay, shall we become lovers?”

Ellis: “Everything that makes you happy… All of it.”

Ellis: “Kissing, and more—everything.”

Kate: “You’re kissing me now…”

Kate: “Is it okay to think that it’s because you want to do it too?”

--Before I knew it, I had fallen so deeply in love that I became anxious.

I didn’t know the true nature of the strange feeling that I sometimes felt—the depth of the darkness inside that box.

Ellis: “I’ve got a lid on this—but I’ve got to do something before I get any more selfish.”

Ellis: “I wish you were happy.”

Kate: “Ellis—”

Ellis: “Hey, Kate.”

Ellis: “How happy are you…?”

In the darkness that seems to swallow me up and make me unable to see anything—

What I discovered was Ellis’ true feelings, like the light of twilight.

Ellis: “Let’s stop time with the ultimate happiness.”

Ellis: “So… Be mine, forever.”

When I met you, I found happiness.

And this love—is going to kill me.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikemen villains translation #ikevil translation #ellis twilight #ikevil ellis #ikevil ellis twilight #ikemen villains ellis #ikemen villains ellis twilight

141 notes · View notes

thepastisalreadywritten · 3 months

Text

Inside William’s Next Act: Tatler’s May issue goes behind the scenes as the Prince of Wales is rising above the noise — and playing the long game

The burden of leadership is falling upon Prince William, but as former BBC Royal Correspondent, Wesley Kerr OBE, explains in Tatler’s May cover story, the future king is taking charge

By Wesley Kerr OBE

21 March 2024

When I first met Prince William in 2009, he asked me if I could tell him how he could win the National Lottery.

It was a jokey quip from someone who has since become the Prince of Wales, the holder of three dukedoms, three earldoms, two baronies and two knighthoods, and heir to the most prestigious throne on earth.

He was, of course, being relatable; I was representing the organisation that had allocated Lottery funding towards the Whitechapel Gallery and he wanted to put me at ease.

William is grand but different, royal but real.

At 6ft 3in, he has the bearing and looks great in uniform after a distinguished, gallant military career.

He will be one of the tallest of Britain’s kings since Edward Longshanks in the 14th century and should one day be crowned sitting above the Stone of Scone that Edward ‘borrowed.’

William, by contrast, has a deep affinity with Scotland and Wales, having lived in both nations and gained solace from the Scottish landscape after his mother died.

He’s popular in America and understands that the Crown’s relationship to the Commonwealth must evolve.

The Prince of Wales has long believed that ‘the Royal Family has to modernise and develop as it goes along, and it has to stay relevant’, as he once said in an interview.

He seeks his own way of being relatable, of benefitting everybody, in the context of an ancient institution undergoing significant challenge and upheaval, as the head of a nation divided by hard times, conflicts abroad, and social and political uncertainty.

We might recognise Shakespeare’s powerful line spoken by Claudius in Hamlet: ‘When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.’

With the triple announcement in January and February of the Princess of Wales’s abdominal surgery and long convalescence, of King Charles’s prostate procedure and then of his cancer diagnosis, the burden of leadership has fallen on 76-year-old Queen Camilla and, crucially, on William.

The Prince of Wales’s time has come to step up; and so he has deftly done.

In recent months, we have seen a fully-fledged deputy head of state putting into practice his long-held ideas, speaking out on the most contentious issue of the day and taking direct action on homelessness.

Last June, he unveiled the multi-agency Homewards initiative with the huge aspiration of ending homelessness, backed with £3 million from his Foundation to spearhead action across the UK.

He is consolidating Heads Together, the long-standing campaign on mental health, and fundraises for charities like London’s Air Ambulance Charity.

He was, of course, once a pilot for the East Anglian Air Ambulance services – a profession that had its downside: seeing people in extremis or at death’s door, he found himself ‘taking home people’s trauma, people’s sadness.’

Tom Cruise was a guest at the recent London’s Air Ambulance Charity fundraiser, William’s first gala event after Kate’s operation.

And more stardust followed when William showed that, even without his wife by his side, he could outclass any movie star at the Baftas.

There’s also his immense aim of helping to ‘repair the planet’ itself with his Earthshot Prize: five annual awards of £1 million for transformative environmental projects with worldwide application.

This project has a laser focus on biodiversity, better air quality, cleaner seas, reducing waste and combating climate change. Similar aims to his father; different means to achieve the goal.

On the issue which has caused huge convulsions – the Middle East conflict – William’s 20 February statement from Kensington Palace grabbed attention.

He said he was ‘deeply concerned about the terrible human cost of the conflict since the Hamas terrorist attack on 7 October. Too many have been killed.’

There were criticisms – along the lines of ‘the late Queen would have never spoken out like this’ or ‘what right does he have to meddle in politics?’ – but it was hard to disagree with his carefully calibrated words.

His call for peace, the ‘desperate need’ for humanitarian aid, the return of the hostages.

The statement was approved by His Majesty’s Government, likely cleared with the King himself at Sandringham the previous weekend and also backed by the chief rabbi of Great Britain, Sir Ephraim Mirvis.

Indeed, William and Catherine had immediately spoken out on the horrors of 7 October.

William followed up the week after his Kensington Palace statement by visiting a synagogue and sending a ‘powerful message’, according to the chief rabbi, by meeting a Holocaust survivor and condemning anti-Semitism.

This is rooted in deep personal conviction following William’s 2018 visit to Israel and the West Bank, says Valentine Low, the distinguished author of Courtiers and The Times’s royal correspondent of 15 years, who was on that 2018 trip.

‘William was so moved by his visit to Israel and the West Bank, he found it very affecting, and he was not going to drop this issue – he was going to pay attention to it for the rest of his life,’ says Low.

‘He must feel that… not to say something on the most important issue in the world [at that moment] would be a bit odd if you feel so strongly about it.’

There was concern from some commentators about politicising the monarchy, but this rose above the particulars of party politics.

As Prince of Wales, like his father before him, there is perhaps space to speak out sparingly on carefully chosen issues.

On this occasion, his views were in line with majority public opinion.

On homelessness, news came that same week that William was planning to build 24 homes for the homeless on his Duchy of Cornwall estate.

‘William’s impact is very personal,’ says Mick Clarke, chief executive of The Passage, a charity providing emergency accommodation for London’s homeless.

‘Two weeks before Christmas, the prince came to our Resource Centre in Victoria for a Christmas lunch for 150 people.

He was scheduled to stay for an hour, to help serve, wash up, and talk to people.

He ended up staying for two and a quarter hours, during which time he went from table to table and spoke to every single person.’

Clarke continues:

‘William has an ability to listen, talk and to put people at ease. During the November 2020 lockdown, he came on three separate occasions to help.

It gave the team a boost that he took the time; it was his way of saying: “I support you; you’re doing a great job.”’

Seyi Obakin, chief executive of Centrepoint, one of the prince’s best-known causes, adds:

‘People associate his patronage with the big moments like the time he and I slept under Blackfriars Bridge.

The things that stick with me are smaller in scale and the more profound for it – in quieter moments, away from the cameras, where he has volunteered his time.’

It is a different approach from the King’s.

As Prince of Wales, he was involved in the minutiae of dozens of issues at any one time, working into the night to follow up on emails, crafting his speeches, writing or dictating notes.

Add to that much nationwide touring over 40 years (after he left active military service in 1976), fitting in multiple engagements, often being greeted formally by lord lieutenants.

This is not William’s style. He has commended his father’s model, but he does things his own way.

Although patronages are under review, William has up till now far fewer than either his father or his grandparents.

Charles is sympathetic to William’s approach and his desire to make time with his young family sacrosanct.

They are confidantes, attested by the night of Queen Elizabeth’s death.

They were both at Birkhall with Camilla, reviewing funeral arrangements while the rest of the grieving family were nearby at Balmoral, hosted by the Princess Royal.

Charles has had almost six decades in public life and is the senior statesman of our time, with even longer in the spotlight than Joe Biden.

After Eton and St Andrew’s University, where he met Catherine, William served in three branches of the military between 2006 and 2013, finishing as a seasoned and skilled helicopter rescue pilot.

His later employment as an air ambulance pilot stopped in 2017, when he became a full-time working royal.

At that time, not so long ago – with Harry unmarried, Andrew undisgraced, and Philip and Elizabeth still active – William shared the spotlight.

Now, after the King, he’s the key man.

He can look back on the success of his first big campaign initially launched with his wife and brother in 2016: Heads Together.

‘We are delighted that Prince William should have become such a positive and sympathetic advocate for mental health through his Heads Together initiative and now well-established text service, Shout, among other projects,’ says the longtime CEO and founder of Sane, the remarkable Marjorie Wallace CBE.

‘It is not always known that he follows in the footsteps of his father, the King, whose inspiration and vision were vital in the creation of our mental health charity Sane.

As founding patron, he was instrumental in establishing our 365-days-a-year helpline and was a remarkable and selfless support to me in setting up the Prince of Wales International Centre for Sane Research.’

'Indeed,' says Wallace, 'this is where Prince William echoes the work of his father, showing the same ‘understanding and compassion for people struggling through dark and difficult times of their lives and has done much to raise awareness and encourage those affected to speak out and seek help.

We owe a huge debt to His Majesty and the Prince of Wales for their involvement in this still-neglected area.’

Just as I saw all those years ago at that early solo engagement in Whitechapel, William still approaches his public duties with humour and fun.

‘He defuses the formality with jocularity,’ says Valentine Low, citing two public events in 2023 that he witnessed.

In April last year, while on a visit to Birmingham, William randomly answered the phone in an Indian restaurant he was being shown around and took a table booking from a customer – an endearing act of spontaneity.

On his arrival later that day, the unsuspecting diner was surprised to be told exactly whom he had been talking to.

In October, Low reported, William ‘unleashed his inner flirt as he hugged his way through a visit with Caribbean elders [in Cardiff] to mark Black History Month.

As he gave one woman a hug – for longer than she expected – he joked: “I draw the line at kissing.”

And while posing for a group photograph, he prompted gales of laughter when he quipped: “Who is pinching my bottom?”’

Low believes that when William eventually becomes king, he will be more ‘radical’ than his father but wonders if people will respond to ‘call me William’ when ‘the whole point of the Royal Family is mystique and being different.’

However, William has thought deeply about his current role and is prepared for whatever his future holds.

For now, there is a decision to be made on Prince George’s secondary schooling. It’s said that five public schools are being considered, all fee-paying.

Eton is single-sex and boarding but close to home. Marlborough (Catherine’s alma mater) is co-ed and full boarding. And Oundle, St Edward’s Oxford and Bradfield College (close to Kate’s parents) are co-ed with a mix of boarding and day.

As parents, William and Catherine aspire to raise their children ‘as good people with the idea of service and duty to others as very important’, William said in an interview with the BBC in 2016.

‘Within our family unit, we are a normal family.’ Which may be one reason why he is so resistant to their privacy being compromised either by the media or close family members.

The 19th-century author Walter Bagehot wrote:

‘A family on the throne is an interesting idea also. It brings down the pride of sovereignty to the level of petty life… a princely marriage is the brilliant edition of a universal fact, and, as such, it rivets mankind.’

If hereditary monarchy is to survive, it must beguile us but also demonstrate its utility, that it is a force for good.

William said in that 2016 interview, ‘I’m going to get plenty of criticism over my lifetime,’ echoing Queen Elizabeth II’s famous Guildhall speech in 1992 ‘that criticism is good for people and institutions that are part of public life. No institution – city, monarchy, whatever – should expect to be free from the scrutiny of those who give it their loyalty and support, not to mention those who don’t.’

William saw close up his mother’s ability to bring public focus and her own personal magnetism to any subject or cause she focused on.

He admires his father’s work ethic, the way he ‘really digs down,’ sometimes literally (I understand that gardening is giving the King solace during his cancer treatment).

But the biggest influence for William was Her late Majesty, as he said on her 90th birthday.

As an Eton schoolboy, William made weekend visits to the big house on the hill, being mentored by Granny rather as she had been tutored in the Second World War by the then vice-provost of Eton, Sir Henry Marten.

William said in 2016:

‘In the Queen, I have an extraordinary example of somebody who’s done an enormous amount of good and she’s probably the best role model I could have.’

That said, his aim was ‘finding your own path but with very good examples and guidance around you to support you.'

Queen Elizabeth II had a brilliant way of rising above the fray and usually being either a step ahead of public opinion or in tune with it.

If you are at the helm of affairs in a privileged hereditary position, your duty is to serve and use your pulpit for the benefit of others.

In a democracy, monarchy is accountable.

The scrutiny is intense, with an army of commentators paid for wisdom and hot air about each no-show, parsing each announcement, interpreting each image.

William takes the long view. He has ‘wide horizons,’ says Mick Clarke.

‘There are so many causes that are more palatable and easier to achieve than ending homelessness, but his commitment and drive are 100 per cent.’

The prince seeks a different way of being royal in an ancient institution that must move with the times. His task? To develop something modern in an ever-changing world.

He faces all sorts of new issues – or old issues in new guises.

Noises off from within the family don’t help – Andrew’s difficulties, or the suggestions of prejudice from Montecito a couple of years ago (now seemingly withdrawn), which prompted William’s most vehement soundbite: ‘We’re very much not a racist family.’

William is maybe a new kind of leader who can keep the monarchy relevant and resonant in the coming decades.

Queen Elizabeth II is a powerful exemplar and memory, but she was of her time. William is his own man.

He must overcome and think beyond ‘the unforgiving minute.’

Indeed, he could seek inspiration in Rudyard Kipling’s poem, If.

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch[…]

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

This article was first published in the May 2024 issue, on sale Thursday, 28 March.

146 notes · View notes

squigglyscribble · 11 months

Text

Viren and the Stars

I don't post thoughts on here (this is my art sideblog), but I'm just putting it out there that I am a "Viren is gonna unlock the Star Arcanum" believer.

Viren’s arc has been about wanting a “bright future for humanity.” The Star Arcanum is concerned with divination and seeing beyond. And what would be a better primal match for our favorite scrungly man?

The reason I'm sharing these thoughts now is that Viren is clearly mirroring Callum's season 2 arc, wherein Callum did dark magic, fell into a dark magic coma, had some funky dreams, rejected his Dark Magic self, and then unlocked the Sky Arcanum.

Season 5 had Viren doing Dark Magic, fall into a dark magic coma, have some funky dreams, reject his Dark Magic self, aaaaand...

Inquiring minds wanna know what will happen next?

I'll go into some "interesting" things I've noticed that could be hinting/alluding to Star Viren in the rest of this post.

Viren has been intimately close with a Startouch Elf—even performed a blood ritual with one, which produced a child. A star child. (Credit to Crusoe for the image)

For two years, Viren was encased in a Star Silk Cocoon, and what would emerge from a Star Silk cocoon...

but a Star-related entity? Butterfly Viren, I'm looking at you.

Aesthetically, the color Purple is associated with the Star Arcanum (its symbol is often depicted in purple, Aaravos’s horns are purple, what little clothing he wears is purple, Sir Sparklepuff is purple, quasar diamonds are purple, Stella’s eyes are purple).

Viren was originally conceived with purple eyes (but this was changed to gray so people wouldn’t think he was a “half-elf”),

(yes this is legit from TDPO, Viren originally had purple eyes)

Viren wears a purple brooch on his clothing, and (for a long time) he carried around Ziard’s staff, which has a purple gem in it. His ex-wife Lissa's favorite flowers were lilacs (purple), and his daughter Claudia has purple-tipped hair.

Needless to say, Viren is surrounded by the color purple.

The intro to seasons 4-5 has Viren underneath a field of stars:

Season 4, episode 2, "Fallen Stars" has Viren falling off the Storm Spire. It's a stretch, but the titles always have double meaning.

In season 5, Viren has a vision of Claudia in a red sea while dreaming and awake:

(Of a note: how did he know what flower Terry had given Claudia? HMMM)

Visions are one of the properties of the Star Arcanum.

Speaking of which--"vision," "truth," "destiny"--these are all words Viren says quite often. One big moment was at the end of season 5 when Viren says, before he walks off to die--

"I finally see the TRUTH"

As for "wishes," well... Coin Viren falls into water. Like a wishing well.

After Viren throws off his crown in his Twin Peaks dream sequence, the immediate next shot is a shooting star.

One of the final shots of the season, is Viren's eye reflecting a sea of stars.

Which, by the way, we also see on The Tales of Xadia cover, where Viren has the Star Arcanum symbol as an eye:

Anyway. So. Maybe I'm clowning and this all doesn't mean anything. Maybe it's all just mean to emphasize the connection Viren and Aaravos have. But... I tend to think things happen for a reason. And there's just so many little things here and there which seem to be amassing to Viren in someway being connected to the Stars.

As for that this means for the future, I don't know, but I can only hope it means the future is bright.

#viren #the dragon prince #tdp season 5 #star arcanum #i'm ready to be a clown lol #meta #tdp theory

374 notes · View notes

chaoticspeedrun · 1 month

Note

Do you think MC would be willing to get to know Leo after he turns back?

- :)

Oh so we're doing this~

Here is a very brief summary, you could call this some type of drabble I guess! About how I think this particular situation would go.

The little merturtle AU Leo being captured by pirate! MC

Leo gets turned into a normal red-eared slider, again, and trying to reach Donnie in the beach, gets in the way of these pirates that have been terrorizing the kingdom, as the pirates are escaping, MC sees Leo at the beach and grabs him, why? Because MC just lost their parrot and why not get a new pet?

I imagine MC has to be tough all the time, they're in a dangerous situation, that's their life and they have to make sure the rest of their crew are always confident in what they're doing.

So MC would just let themselves talk to their pet about things they can't regularly talk about all the time, but since their parrot died, they've been under more stress and become more violent without some type of outlet.

So, turtle.

Leo is confused the whole time, but can't talk so he is just struggling and trying to get out of there, but before he knows it, he is already on a pirate ship at sea and there's a navy ship following them close and ARE THOSE CANNONS?

The pirates escape and celebrate, while Leo is trying to throw himself into the sea the whole time, but MC takes some of the treasure (And Leo) along with them to the Captain's cabin.

Have you watched "Sinbad: Legend of the seven seas"? Because I imagine the MC to be similar to Sinbad in a way.

Cunning, greedy, conniving, even egotistical. The MC is a pirate and though there's much more to them, there's a lot of "character development" that would need to happen first.

Leo, in a way, relates a bit of their vanity and greed, in a much tamer way, easily distracted by the treasure once with it and entertaining MC as he manages to put on a necklace in front of the mirror.

The MC is amused by the little turtle, which would make it much harder for him to escape.

This goes on for a bit, the navy is still looking for these pirates and Leo is getting further away from both the kingdom where Donnie is, and Atlantida.

The pirates keep stealing from different ports along the way, and MC talks to Leo about how they just want to get away for a while and take a break in some beautiful island to relax.

The more MC talks their thoughts out to the turtle, the more he sees they're lonely and stressed and that there's way more to them than he first thought (Having gotten kidnapped by a dangerous pirate, his opinion of MC wasn't the best).

But the spell does end up running out, and by the time he's fallen in love with them, it breaks and he gets back to his merturtle form.

I think that unlike the situation that happened with Donnie, though Leo would be insecure about his appearance, considering humans are still generally judgemental of yokai, the problem would come from the fact that the moment he detransforms the whole crew finds him and captures him.

What is the worth of such a being? And once Leo slips up and says he is the crown prince of Atlantida? They are more set on keeping him for a rescue.

The only reason MC keeps him comfortable in a sort of tank inside the ship is because Leo was their "pet" that MC spoke about their problems to, but truly, MC does NOT know him.

For a while after he returns to his form, they fight frequently, MC has control, but Leo will not keep quiet, he may try getting in their good graces but he can't keep quiet when he does not agree or about wanting to be fred.

Explaining how their relationship develops would take more time and it would be unfair for me to do so in this drabble, but with the time they would spend together as he is captured in there, the MC would inevitably get to know him.

The conflict would stew, with what the crew wants and MC expects, from what his family does as they search for him, and what the navy does trying to capture the pirates.

#ask #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt #merturtle leo #the little merturtle #the little mermaid au #the little mermaid #rottmnt AU #rottmnt x reader #leonardo hamato #rise leo x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt leonardo x reader #rottmnt leo #rise leo

54 notes · View notes

estrella-etoile · 8 months

Text

Two Views of the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods

Unpopular opinion, probably, but... Mu Qing and Feng Xin had a point when they went to extremes to try to get Xie Lian away from Hua Cheng

even if they were wrong.

Let's look at this from FengQing's POV. The last time they saw the crown prince, he was fighting with an overpowered ghost king completely obsessed with breaking (and ultimately owning) him. White No-face genuinely believed that he was doing XL a favor with his torture. That the downfall of Xianle was all for the greater good, and that he had plans for Xie Lian related to it all. Maybe they didn't realize it was so that XL could become the perfect protege, but the unhealthy obsession was apparent.

Fast forward to now.

Xie Lian is back. He's suffered from 800 years of destitution and humiliation. He speaks casually of unspeakable pain and torture, and suddenly there's this other overpowered ghost king that brought a reign of terror to the Heavens.

And that ghost king also seems to be around (and extremely affectionate with) the prince. Hua Cheng brought the same terror to Heavenly Officials that White No-Face brought to Xianle (by design as a punishment for Heaven looking the other way...) So here XL is, back, speaking about sleeping in the same bed as Hua Cheng with a shrug. Holding his hand and snuggling up to him. Looking desperate and pained any time they are separated.

And then? As they're trekking up Tong'lu attempting to thwart a new ghost king's birth, they come across a cave full of beautifully carved statues of Xie Lian. From the God Pleasing Crown Prince to the fallen god to the drunken crying exile and finally... to the god suffering the effects of the Land of the Tender. To any but Hua Cheng and Xie Lian (and especially to Feng Xin and Mu Qing), this obsession looks dangerous. After all, was White No-face's obsession different? Maybe it wasn't, and suddenly both of them are asking the (valid) question, is this all happening again? Did Xie Lian truly get broken this time? Is he walking into the life of a kept man and sex slave of a depraved and evil ghost king who was about to achieve the pinnacle of his obsession?

So they acted the way that they thought they needed to, to get Xie Lian away from the threat. Because even after 800 years of ignoring their shame, their loyalty had never completely eroded away.

The difference between White No-face and Hua Cheng is night and day to pretty much anyone paying attention. But the thing is, FengQing didn't have the view that the readers had, didn't even have the view that Pei Ming and Shi Qingxuan had honestly. They didn't see the quiet moments where Xie Lian and Hua Cheng just basked in their little world. Didn't watch Xie Lian giggle at some joke that Hua Cheng told.

They didn't pay attention to Xie Lian, or to the fact that San Lang never tried to force Xie Lian into a mask (which WNF literally did). True, Xie Lian spent a ton of time trying to understand why Hua Cheng had chosen him, but he never so much as had his hackles raised when Hua Cheng was around.

Ironic that it made them strip Xie Lian of agency to "rescue" him.

By Tong'lu, Xie Lian was as obsessed and in love with Hua Cheng as vice versa. It meant the Cave of Ten Thousand Gods was a beautiful revelation. Ah, so this is why my perfect and beautiful and sexy and clever and best friend Ghost King chose me. And I feel so lucky that he did.

It's not something that Feng Xin or Mu Qing are equipped to understand yet. Because Xie Lian is no longer the naive ascended-too-early god pleasing prince. The hardships that he suffered in those intervening centuries made him stronger, instead of weaker.

By the time they finally defeated White No-face, and certainly in the year where Xie Lian waited, I think both of them finally had a good idea of the person he had become. I don't think either will ever be truly comfortable with Hua Cheng (which? fair. also, kinda deserved.), but they definitely can tell that Xie Lian is happy, and are happy for him in turn.

#hualian meta #hualian #tgcf meta #mu qing and feng xin kind of had a point #even though they were wrong #cave of ten thousand gods #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #xie lian #hua cheng

152 notes · View notes

potatomountain · 11 months

Text

Fallen Crown pt 3: To Covet

Captured prince Yeosang[Ateez] x “tainted” Princess fem!reader

Warnings: mentions of r*pe, manipulation, trauma, bloodbath, mentions of death, panic attacks. let me know if i missed any!

Word count: 4.6k

An: this took me awhile as I'm still trying to get back into writing regularly but here ya go <3 gentle reminder this does have some dark themes!

Taglist now at the bottom!

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Much to my surprise, there was no difficulty in retrieving food and supplies for my new charge. Despite the King agreeing to my proposal I had expected some trouble, as the sadistic fuck loved to see anyone struggle. But there was none.

Food was supplied even if it was stale bread and scraps of cheese. My own meals seemed to be a bit more in abundance, and I would set some aside for him. The only true difficulty was that I could only see him once a day, and it was now monitored.

A week passed, my visits were short as I tended to his wounds and changed the bandages. He wore the clothes I had brought him as they fit quite snuggly, and on more than one occasion I found myself admiring the muscles accented by the fabric. If he noticed, he did not say; in fact he said nothing at all.

But he didn't need to. With his back to the guarded bars, his eyes always held the same question as he would look over the dark dresses I would wear, covering all the wounds he had inflicted on me. They weren't deep, nothing that needed more than a few stitches like a gash on my arm, but I was fine. His gaze was always looking for proof that I was, and his concern would flutter my heart in a way I wasn't so keen on.

I was resigned to my fate, I did not want him incenting dreams or desires in me. That was a cruelty I couldn't handle.

After I would dress his wounds, I would leave the food and water for him and leave without a word. Our silent exchanges felt like anything but, yet it seemed lost on the guard.

The guard was just as silent as we, which had me on edge. Nearly every guard or man under my father's command would have some snide remark to make, with the exception of a few, but this was not one I was familiar with. I suspected he was ordered to watch for something, but I don't know what. I could only hope he was satisfied.

The day for another round in the arena came, and as per usual I was stepping into the center of the coliseum in some semblance of a red dress, this time one that showed off every wound I had. In a week's time they were not as bad, but the maids who had dressed me had applied makeup to make them stand out more- in particular one on my exposed stomach as the dress seemed to be a two part piece inspired by the island kingdoms in the South.

There was a gash on my upper right arm accentuated to look worse than it was with the stitches, and a few extra 'bruises' painted on. The crowd seemed to enjoy the view of my battered body, with my hair and face done up just like a pristine doll for contrast. I assumed it was just for the people's entertainment, as that was all I ever was now.

I should've thought about it more.

While I awaited instructions, prisoners were brought out by the dozen- war prisoners. Some seemed to recognize me and I realized that even the men of the nobles that had joined the rebellion were held here. Dozen by dozen, until half the arena was packed with the war prisoners. The last one to enter was him, my charge, wearing the same clothes he had worn the last time in the arena, the cut up fabric showing the dirty bandages underneath.

We locked eyes for a moment, but I was the first to look away. I did not like this stage the King was setting up. All prisoners of the rebellion, from both kingdoms, were present, as was the head of the noble faction that was now considered a traitor.

Today he was making an example out of them no doubt.

"How fitting, our tainted Princess standing in a crowd of traitors. Despite how dirty you are, you are still royalty though no?" The King's voice boomed over the crowd, effectively silencing the arena. "They should all be on their knees to you, Princess of the Arena."

Bestowed with a new title it seemed, one that wasn't as derogatory as the others, I could only stare up at the King's dias in shock. Something was wrong, something was different, and I did not like it.

What game was he going to play with me now?

The shuffling of chains drew my attention to Yeosang as he climbed down to his knees, half the prisoners following suit quickly. My mouth hung agape, eyes wide. Despite the forced show of respect, I saw it for what it was: they were all bowing because their Prince was.

Whether the King was aware of it or not, I couldn't tell from here, shrugging off the kneeling prisoners with a wave of my hand I turned and stared up once more at the dias. "A title comes with responsibility, Your Majesty, so what duties are you giving your humble servant?" I made a show of a modest bow, keeping my head lowered but eyes on him.

"I'm glad you asked, my dear, as it pertains to today's events. See, we have far too many prisoners for our dungeons... killing all these traitors seems pointless. Since you so graciously took their leader as your charge, I will give you the responsibility of deciding the rest of their fates."

My stomach dropped, the weight of so many lives on my shoulders felt unbearably crushing. I fought off the urge to look back at Yeosang, wanting his guidance on this matter. He led them before, he would know what to do- but I couldn't ask him.

Instead I turned slowly, taking in the worn faces of every prisoner in the arena, half of them with expressions of anger or disgust at this predicament, but the others seemed nonchalant, or not at all worried. "There are too many-" I called out, gaze briefly landing on Yeosang's figure, but he tore his own from me. He probably didn't like this predicament either.

"Well?!" The King called out, drawing my attention once more. "What shall we do with them, hm?"

Letting them go was out of the question, he would just kill them and I on the spot if I tried. He would refuse to feed them if I didn't make a decision either, let them die out slowly. Or... I couldn't save all of them, but I could most.

Clearing my throat I held my head high and arms wide. "Let them fight! They were so eager to do so before. Here is a plethora of entertainment for your People, Your majesty! Have them fight for their cells, then their food, and if you wish to show your merciful side... perhaps even freedom? The conditions of their fight are whatever would please you, as you know what your people need the most do you not?"

The stands roared at the idea, even more entertainment, more bloodshed for them to watch. The King's laughter mingled with the cheers until he called for silence. "You have earned the title Princess of the Arena, as you have learned well how to please the people and myself. Your idea certainly is better than having them all fight to the death here and now for only one winner. However... it would be a shame to have brought them all out here just to have you decide their fate."

So there was still going to be a bloodbath today.

"Since this will be the last day for some, I will grant them some mercy. They can witness that sinful dance of yours. So many already think you are worth more than freedom, I wonder if these scum will."

Cheers once more erupted but I didn't care, my heart was beating for an entirely different reason now. He was once more dangling me as bait in front of his fighters, once more shaming me in a new way. I should be used to it, no I was, but this was a humiliation on a different level. It was a humiliation to the men around me: to Yeosang.

Oddly enough I did not want to be shamed in front of him either; not when he has shown me more respect, more kindness, than anyone before him.

Yet I had no right to protest, not in the eyes of the King or the people in the stands. I was still a puppet and my strings were being pulled. So when the music started up somewhere in the stands, I danced.

Shortly after my fall, the moves for this particular dance were shown to me by a prostitute the King had brought in. 'Since you are now the royal whore, you should know how to perform like one' was his excuse. Even still, the dance was not that sinful, not that seductive... only paired with the exposed skin was it.

My bare feet glided over the sand beneath me, the eyes of hundreds of prisoners fixated on my form but only one I was even more aware of than the rest. Out of the corner of my eye I watched him, he seemed as transfixed as the soldiers around him but by the clench of his jaw it was not for the same reason. Eyes on my stomach, then my arm, the bruises on my exposed thighs- each flicker of his gaze darker than the last.

I didn't understand why he was concerned, or was it guilt? Guilt I could understand, as I could see the bandages as plain as the sand beneath my feet. I could still picture his lashed and raw back in my mind, the guilt heavy stones in my stomach knowing I put them there.

Just thinking about the damage I had done to him had me stumbling over my own feet in distraction. I caught myself quickly enough, but it wasn't missed by the nearby onlookers.

Relief washed over me as I finished the dance on my knees, head lowered and arms held out at my sides in a way to submit myself. I could hear the cheers, the crowd familiar with my dance, but the men around me were silent. For war prisoners, they seemed awfully lifeless... or obedient? I spared a glance up through my lashes at the man I knew they were obedient for, briefly catching pain on his features before it was whisked away and replaced with a nonchalance.

Once more the King quieted the audience before speaking up. "Even wounded you still put on a good performance fitting of the Royal Whore. Let's give the deprived scum something more to fight for, say a kiss from you today?" Chills ran down my spine while the crowd loved it. A kiss? "It was scum that defiled you first, so that seems rather fitting. Very well! I will announce today's game!"

I shifted in the sand, turning my back to Yeosang and staring up at the red canopy shielding the King from the sun's rays. After a bit of chit chat with those around him, he spoke into the magic tool once more.

"There are just over four hundred prisoners in the arena currently, the last one hundred left alive will live another day. The best fighters will be assessed by the guards around the arena and will participate in a fight for the grand prize. With only one exception- the fallen Prince shall be the final opponent and will not partake in the blood shed today, as he is under the protection of our dear filthy Princess. What say you?"

The idea of bloodshed, of deprived men fighting to kiss a whore, excited the crowd while it terrified me.

The King was skilled in making his puppets shine as fools. Skilled in stripping them of their pride and will until they were obedient brutes who played into his hands. He enjoyed dangling me as a toy for even traitors to play with, and was enjoying making light of their rebellion, their fight to attempt to overthrow this kingdom. He wanted to see them toss it aside for something as shameful as a woman's kiss.

No honor, no pride, no morality or dignity. He wanted all that stripped of each person in the arena.

The guards approached Yeosang and I, leading us off to the side near the arena gates. The guards went through but instructed us to stay put, leaving us with the best seats in the house. Our backs to the bars, we had to face the four hundred other prisoners who were slowly standing up. There were no weapons handed out, nothing but the chains around each prisoner's hands.

It wasn't often I was present or watched a fight to the death, and usually there were weapons involved. When the gong sounded, at first none of them moved. They looked to each other, and several looked in our direction; no, they looked to their Prince.

I could see the slightest of nods from him out of the corner of my eye, and only then did the bloodbath occur. And it was indeed just that.

Four hundred prisoners of war tearing each other apart with their bare hands and chains was a gruesome sight. It was not easy killing another in the crowd, and no death would be quick enough in such a situation.

It was easily one of the most terrifying sights I had to witness. I wasn't sure where to look, or why I should, but it was nearly impossible to keep a straight face as I watched. I couldn't tear my eyes away either.

My stomach lurched when a body fell just a few meters from us. Sure we weren't that far from the bloodshed considering how many bodies currently filled the sands of the arena, but this was close enough blood splattered on the sand just in reach of my feet.

"Gods-" I turned quickly, shutting my eyes while my hands went over my stomach. This was almost too much, they were being so brutal, screams and cheers ringing so loudly my head pounded. I wished for nothing more than for it to stop, or to be in a position that I could be ignorant to what was happening. Oblivious and unawares.

Yet I will never forget.

A soft touch on my arm startled me, hand lashing out and slapping away the perpetrator.

"It's alright-" Yeosang's sweet voice rang through the noise, drawing my wide eyes to him. "I'm sorry you have to see this."

"Sorry?!" I couldn't believe this, why was he apologizing to me? "Those are your men. Men you knew, that fought with you and followed you- were loyal to you. Why are you saying sorry to me? Are you unaffected watching them tear each other apart??" Panic had my voice rising a few octaves, the sounds of death still ringing in my ear and peripheral.

Yet he was so calm. Why was he calm? Why did he seem so apologetic as if he was the one doing wrong... to me?

A loud cry nearby startled me enough i physically jumped, eyes wide with obvious fear. This felt no different than the bandit raid that changed my life. "Yeosang-" Yet I had something to latch onto now; a comfort I hadn't had before.

Why he was a comfort was lost to me, perhaps because we were undergoing this psychological torture together. That had to be it, right?

"It's alright. You can't break just yet Princess, I know you can withstand more than this." He spoke low and evenly, a vast difference to my growing erratic breathing. "I am here." Those three words struck a chord in my chest, finding new strength in my core to regain control over my breathing while our eyes stayed locked in what felt like an embrace. His shining with a steady comfort, and my own reflecting my fear even as it dissipated.

With a slow nod I kept my eyes locked on his, reaching out and grabbing onto the loose chain around his wrist. The movement was subtle, and only for a moment of comfort; any more and I'd risk too many onlookers seeing and risk a punishment.

I wasn't sure how much time passed, forcing myself to stare straight ahead once I put some distance between us. Even still I watched him out of the corner of my eye; it was the better option compared to watching the bloodshed. His own expression was impassive, his own eyes remaining forward. Since I was to his left, I could notice the mark on his left eye. I've admired it a few times, probably a birthmark. This close and just peeking out from the strands of his black hair it almost resembled a heart.

It was the sound of a gong reverberating through the arena that drew my attention back to the slaughter. The fight seemed to be over, only one fourth of the prisoners remained standing and most did not look spared their own damage.

"It's over..." with a sigh of relief I squared my shoulders, awaiting for the announcement that would come shortly. But just as the King began congratulating the remaining fighters, the gate behind the two of us opened and the guards ushered us through. It seemed neither of us were going to witness this next part.

We were brought to a nearby room, much like a cell but a bit more decorated to be a waiting room. I usually sat here during matches, unable to see the arena but you could hear the cheers well enough. The wooden door was shut behind us, leaving us alone and out of sight, which just perplexed me.

Rage filled me as well; rage that if they intended to bring me here anyways, why wait until after the bloodshed? Why did I have to be subjugated to that ghastly sight!?

But I knew the reason, he was standing right behind me.

Exasperated, and overwhelmed, I stumbled over to a nearby bench, sitting down a bit roughly. I heard him approach, but I didn’t lift my head, not even when he stood before me.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?!” My head shot back to look up at him, my brow furrowed and trying to make sense of his apologetic expression. “For what? What could you possibly be sorry for, Your Majesty?” It’s not as if you forced them to murder each other like that. Not as if you forced me to watch.” I emphasized through gritted teeth, tears burning just behind my lids. “I should be apologizing to you- it’s my father that forced this, that demands it, for his own sick and twisted games. So why are you? Why are you-” The words broke off on a sob, and before tears could fall I lowered my head into my hands.

He just followed suit, kneeling down before me, hesitantly placing his hands on my bare knees. “Are your wounds really as bad as they look?” The care in the way he ran a thumb over a bruise on my outer thigh matched his tone, soothing the raging storm inside my heart a bit.

“No- they were enhanced for the crowd’s entertainment.” I replied, watching his hands through my fingers until a realization hit. “You…” Slowly I lifted my head, staring at him incredulously. Were you apologizing for these wounds?” He nodded, his own gaze refusing to meet mine. “I do not wish to hurt you, or see you hurt.” “And why not? I’m a part of this kingdom even if they don’t treat me as such. I still have that bastard’s blood in my veins- the one who just ordered your men to die like that. I am not deserving of your concern.” “My men knew what they were getting into with this war, the price they would pay should it fail. No man followed me to this city without accepting that this could be their fate.” He took my hands in his. “Not a single one of them faults you for your father’s deeds. It would warm their hearts to know you shed tears for them.”

I wanted to protest, but the tears running down my cheeks were evidence enough. “No one should die like that.” In need of comfort I no longer could deny myself, I leaned forward and rested my forehead against his unburdened shoulder, my body shaking. “How can they cheer for such cruelty?”

Sobs escaped me, and in an effort to muffle them I pressed closer. He didn’t push me off, instead reaching up and wrapping his arms around my shoulders in an embrace. I didn’t feel as if I deserved his kindness, his care, sympathy- whatever this was. It ignited emotions in me I didn’t not need, because it was hopeless to feel these things. This anger, sorrow, and the urge to be spiteful and fight.

I could not fight, in the end I was just as much a prisoner here as the men out there. If the puppeteer asked me to tear another to death with my bare hands, I would.

It was that irony that dissolved me into a mess in his arms. Someone who should have been my enemy, but acted as my ally.

By the time the door opened once more, I had collected myself and put some distance between us. He hadn’t said anything to my broken babblings while I had cried, but his expression had seemed distant since, jaw clenched tightly I could notice it across the room.

“Come on scum, it’s your turn to fight.” The guard motioned for Yeosang to exit but he had turned his eyes towards me. “I can’t tell if I’m jealous of you or find you pitiful, to have to fight for that whore’s lips. Always wanted to kiss a Princess, not a whore though.”

I didn’t have the energy to be angry after all that crying, my gaze downcast. Really I should be used to this by now.

Yeosang threw me for a shock, however, as a scoff escaped him as he passed the guard. “If she had to kiss you, I’d pity her.”

The guard just laughed it off, patting Yeosang heavily on his injured shoulder when I looked up. “Smitten with the Whore already? I think you two are perfect for each other. Better go win your prize then bastard.” He pushed him forward and out of sight, slamming the door and leaving me be.

Alone I could feel how warm my cheeks were, and not from humiliation. Had he really taken a jab at the guard for my honor? I shouldn’t be happy about that; it could give the king the wrong message if Yeosang appeared smitten with me. He would use it to toy with him, dangle me as bait in front of the man and use me as a way to hurt him. I shivered at the many possibilities that would entail, and most were not good.

The only idea that didn’t sound repulsive was Yeosang actually winning myself as a prize. Not because I wanted to do anything with him, but I was sure he would do nothing to me the way one of those brutes would.

Whilst trying to wrap my head around that idea, the cheers rang through the arena, disrupting my thoughts. Oddly enough I was escorted out of the room and back into the arena the next moment, perplexed by how fast that battle seemed to be.

My heartbeat should not have quickened at the sight of him standing in the center of a couple hundred dead bodies. My breath should not have hitched when we locked eyes, and I should not have found myself in awe at how nearly unscathed he was while his opponent was being carried away unconscious.

This is dangerous. I told myself, hands gripped together in front of me as I stopped just a few feet from the man.

“Well, claim your prize prisoner!” The King called from his seat, cheers and cries of discontent filling the space all around us.

None of that scared me more than the look in his eyes. It wasn’t cold or fierce, but I was familiar with a look akin to it: desire. If this man desired me, I was afraid it would consume us both. I had to think quickly, something to deter the impending struggle that would come from this prize, as it would seal our fate in a different way.

In a panic I was the one who closed the distance, reaching up and grabbing his chains to pull him down to my level while crashing my lips to his. Tears pricked the back of my eyes once more, nasty emotions welling in my chest at the realization that yes, I desired this man too, and it was a shame this was all I could do of it. That it would be a show of entertainment, that even these emotions and actions were to be pulled by the puppeteer and used against me to entertain this crowd.

I made the kiss quick, pulling away before he had a chance to respond. I made a show of wiping my mouth and spitting, giving a glare before turning to face the Royal Dias. “I hope my shame pleases you, Your Majesty! Giving me to even a traitor of your great empire? Is there not more entertaining things you could use this man for? Rather than kiss a whore?” I raised my voice as loud as it would go, unable to look Yeosang in the eyes and playing it off as disgust.

The King laughed, apparently pleased with my outburst. “It would be amusing to give the rebellious spirit something to fight for in here. You may be a useless gem, but even the lowest beings covet something. What say you, Kang Yeosang? Would you fight more for prizes from my daughter? Is that something you covet?”

Turning to Yeosang, I hoped he would say nothing, just lower his head and submit just for this. But with a small shake of his head I felt my stomach drop. “I coveted all that was yours, that was why I dared to raise my sword to your walls. That desire doesn’t dissipate with chains, even if all means of achieving have all been thwarted. I’ll covet anything of yours, including whom you consider a whore.”

There were mixed reactions from the crowd, some enjoyed the speech and laughed with the King; others screamed profanities and wished death upon him. Ultimately the King silenced them, approaching the rail to appear before his people. “I like your spirit, it would be amusing to have the fallen Prince a puppet in my hands. Very well, I’ll give you the opportunity to lay claim… eventually. I’m eager to see just how far you will go, to have what is mine.” He continued on, giving a speech to the crowd to draw today’s activities to an end.

“You’re insane- going to get us both killed.” I hissed out, shocked he would do this. “And I’m not an object for you to have!” Guards approached to escort us out of the arena, but I stormed ahead, shaking my head at the man who had a half smirk on his face, and humor glinting in his eye.

What is going to happen now?

_____________________________________________________________

Masterlist | Next

taglist (to join): @lelaleleb / @ammystri / @candypop1611 / @inkpot-winters / @avantalem / @piratequeen-queenofgames /

64 notes · View notes

asherashedwings · 1 month

Text

ARS GOETIA OCS (And Paimon redesign ig)

Long post ahead 💀

So like, after the release of the new Helluva Boss trailer, I got SUPER fixated on the Ars Goetia. So I wanted to try my hand at designing my own takes on members not yet shown in the series, as well as crafting some self indulgent lore about the group.

So, I imagine that there are 4 main Goetia families, with each of their houses being in one of the cardinal directions of the Pride Ring. 3 of the 4 families have both a king and a queen at the head, with the 4th only having a king (we’ll get to that).

The couples, and their directions go like this:

Belial (North)

Paimon and Balam (West)

Vine and Zagan (East)

Beleth and Purson (South)

These are just where the kings and queens live. Offspring often move out to other rings, so there’s Goetia influence all throughout Hell.

Each of the kings and queens are also fallen angels, having fallen with Lucifer after the battle in Heaven. For this reason, their crowns appear more halo-like, floating above their heads. Two of them don’t have this on their refs, but that’s just because I designed them before coming up with that idea.

Anyways, to the designs!

Belial

Belial is one of the most powerful members of the Ars Goetia, rivaling the power of the sins, and many mortals think of them synonymous to the Devil himself.

So powerful they can actually reproduce by themself. For this lil hc, I made them a California Condor, a species of bird known to have reproduced without a mate. Also, the look of the condor just goes well with the whole pestilence thing Belial has going on.

I think their cloak is actually wings that come from their back, remnants from their time as an angel. I just didn’t draw them in that second picture cuz I just didn’t feel like it 💀

They’re one of the two I drew before I came up with the whole “halo crown” thing, but I have drawn a doodle of what they would look like now with that concept. It’ll be shown later in the post.

Also, I imagine them being agender, so go with the vibes of “being so powerful, the concept of gender means nothing to them and no word can ever truly describe them”, if that makes sense. Idk, that’s just the vibes I get from them. So I usually refer to them with they/them pronouns, but you can really call them whatever you want.

Paimon

I actually don’t mind Paimon’s canon design all that much. Think it actually goes pretty hard. I more so just wanted to change his species cuz with how I imagine my tweaked version of the Ars Goetia, the parents’ species has no effect on what species the offspring will be. Just as long as they’re bird. So Stolas is still an owl, don’t worry. I decided on making Paimon a raven because Stolas is sometimes described as a raven instead of an owl, so I wanted to pay homage to that.

I also gave him wing arms because he has been said to be able to fly.

That’s about all I got for Paimon

Balam

Balam is Paimon’s wife and also Asmodeus’s sister. I made this decision because when looking at their descriptions, Balam and Asmodeus are described very similarly. They are both chimeras with the head of a man, a bull, and a ram, and both possess a serpent tail. So I decided “fuck it, they’re related now”. This also means Ozzy is Stolas’s uncle, which I think would be an interesting dynamic.

I made Balam a bearded vulture mainly for the fact that Balam is also described to have “fiery eyes” which gave bearded vulture to me, idk.

I imagine her other two heads usually only appear in her more demonic form. They can prolly appear normally too, but I think she doesn’t let them show often.

Vine

Vine is a demon known for construction, and I imagine he built most of the Goetia manors. He makes structures using vines that sprout from his wrists, which then morph into the desired material after the creation is finished.

I decided to make him a Montezuma Oropendola, which are birds known to build large nests out of, you guessed it, vines.

Vine is never escaping the spelling of his name.

Which is also the reason I made him very plant themed. Idk, I just find something so nature-y and alive existing in someplace like Hell to be interesting.

I even wrote a lil world building tidbit about him:

To the east of the Pride Ring rests an overgrown forest, with trees so dense that no light hits the dead grass below and roots so tangled that one cannot hope to get through without getting caught within the knots. But if one ventures far enough, they will see this monstrous forest transform into a lavish jungle. The plants are radiant in their green color, the several ponds sprinkled throughout filled with water that almost sparkles. Within this sanctuary, in a clearing with no true location, sits a grandiose manor; a looming structure almost resembling that of an old European castle, encased in hordes of vines and flowers. The home of King Vine and Queen Zagan — the rulers of the East.

Speaking of Queen Zagan-

Zagan

Zagan is known to transform liquids, turning water into wine, blood into wine, oil into water (which can then be turned into wine). She just makes a ton of wine. But I wanted to mainly focus on the blood to wine part, since I realized I could go with a vampiric aesthetic when designing her.

For this reason, I also chose to make her an oxpecker, which is a (sometimes) parasitic bird known for pecking at wounds on large mammals and drinking their blood.

I decided to pair her up with Vine because they’re both creators. Vine’s creations may be more grandiose, with being literal buildings and all, but Zagan’s creations are probably still useful. I mean, she can also create coins.

Oh, and now that I’ve shown both of them, this is what Belial and Zagan’s crowns would look like now, with the whole halo crown thing

Beleth

Beleth was very tricky for me to design at first. Beleth is described as appearing intimidating and fierce when summoned, in order to test the courage of the conjuror. So I wanted to make her intimidating, but was struggling to figure out how exactly I wanted to do that.

Thankfully, my good good friend @braveboiart helped with ideas, and suggested the armor and shadowy cape.

I also made her a shoebill stork, cuz when I think of a bird a lot of people find intimidating, I think of the shoebill.

Purson

And then last but not least, Beleth’s husband, Purson. I decided to pair them up because I wanted to depict them both with armor. They’re a warrior duo.

I made Purson a harpy eagle mainly cuz I thought it’d be cool, but also cuz they’re one of the heaviest birds of prey, and I read somewhere that during the battle it took a swarm of angels to take him down. Idk how canon this is to actual bible lore, but I like it so I’m stealing it /lh

I imagine Beleth and Purson manage some sort of military, and probably train the knights in the Ars Goetia ranking. Idk, I’m still figuring lore out.

Anyways, that’s all I have to show off today. I’m working on redesigning Stolas, Stella, and Octavia, so look out for that I guess.

#ashedwings post #ashedwings art #ashedwings ramble #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #hellaverse #helluva boss #ars goetia #hazbin oc #helluva ocs #helluva boss oc #ars goetia oc #helluva paimon #i may be forgetting tags but whatever #Wingz!HH Rewrite #Ashedwings design

45 notes · View notes

tanoraqui · 3 months

Text

queenship under siege and there's a WHAT in this mountain?! (LotR)

[re: badly described WIPs fics I almost certainly will never actually write - in the lead with 17.5% of the vote as of midnight 3/3/24]

I know I’ve said this before, because I do love it so, but:

The only reason, the ONLY reason, I would ever want the Arkenstone to be a Silmaril is this: the day after Aragorn leaves Rivendell with the Fellowship, Elrond summons Arwen to his study and bids her to go to Erebor.

"What?" she demands. "Surely I am needed here, or out in the wilds, marshaling the Rangers - "

"Your brothers will manage that, after they escort you," her father insists. "You must go to Erebor, and ask Dain to let you open Thorin's tomb, that you may look upon the Arkenstone. Gloin will help you - I spoke with him ere he left. Don't let anyone else know your purpose - as far as the world is concerned, I am sending my only daughter to a safe stronghold until Mordor is defeated."

"Are you not?" she cries. But he will explain no more than, "I think the jewel may be important to our oncoming war, but I wish you to assess it unbiased" - and he gives her two letters to read only once she's made her own judgement of the jewel.

So Arwen goes. The Misty Mountains are crawling with orcs, but in cloaks woven by their grandmother, she and her brothers slip through with only a few close calls. Elrohir and Elladan don't know why she's going even a little, save that their father bade it and (he said) their grandmother supported it. The problem with having Elrond for a father and Galadriel for a grandmother is that, while technically they may each be wrong at times (allegedly), in agreement they never are.

It's nice to have what may be one last journey with her brothers, at least. All three of them know that Elladan and Elrohir will soon be in battle alongside their cousins the Dúnedain, and for all Erebor's strength, it will soon be under attack. Rivendell might soon be under attack. Lothlórien might soon be under attack.

The twins leave almost as soon as the three of them arrive; they have other work to do. Dain barely protests letting Arwen mildly exhume his cousin in order to assess the famous jewel - he doesn't quite like letting an elf(ish person) near the Heart of the Mountain, but he is very worried about the black-armored army lurking across the River Carnen, and respects the wisdom of Elrond and his immediate kin.

Arwen sees the Arkenstone sitting calmly in the hands of of the fallen king, and she sees it clutched in the burning hand of a no-longer-king, fallen free from a twisted iron crown, stolen over a king's bloody body, hallowed by a Queen, forged in a fire like the world never saw again... It glows softly; its light matches that of the small crystal that hangs around her neck now, one of a set of three.

[Here me out: Galadriel made three: one for Celebrian and Elrond as a wedding gift, jointly from herself and Eärendil; one for thw twins upon their birth, and one for Arwen upon hers. Celebrian left hers behind when she Sailed; Galadriel gives it to Frodo.]

The letters are from Elrond and Galadriel, respectively. They say much the same thing:

I'm so sorry to spring this on you, and to make you a guardian of this secret

If the Ringbearer's quest fails and the Enemy regains his full power, please take the jewel (as freely giving by the dwarves if at all possible) and use it however you can to save everyone and everything that you can. (Elrond's says, "My parents will help as much as they can. Do not hesitate to ask for their or any other aid." Galadriel's says, "If you seek Undying Shores with mortals in tow, for succor or for more active aid, hold the Jewel high and beseech first Ulmo and his spirits, and then every single kin-relation you have, no matter the connection. Once you rouse the general populace, then approach the Valar - though don't appear to delay.)

Galadriel's says, "Círdan knows to potentially expect you." Elrond wrote, "If you see your mother before I do", stopped there and blotted it out.

Neither of them needs to say, We will hold the line, to buy you as much time as we can. Both say "I love you", "I'm sorry", and variations on, "I know you can do this."

Arwen made the Choice of Elros several decades ago: to live among Men as a Man, to take up queenship of a people at the start of a new Age of the World and rule until most of those she loved most had passed and it was time to follow as a Man. Now she faces the Choice of Elwing: to leave most of those she loved the most for dead and flee with Silmaril in hand and only the hope of the impossible to save a doomed continent.

(Or, if she was optimistic, the Choice of Lúthien: to face down the Lord of Death and demand back one single most beloved [for Aragorn could not live while Sauron triumphed], and steal him away for many peaceful decades ere doom fell entirely, their own best efforts done. But Lúthien had been, in her glorious way, very selfish, and Arwen was not.)

The reason I haven't started writing this fic and probably never will is that I have a perfect sense of what I believe kids call the vibes - the mood, the tone, themes, the visual and emotional aesthetic - and none of actual, like, events of the story.

It's about Arwen's final trial of leadership and diplomacy, before she (hopefully) takes up a throne of Gondor, being living with Dwarves for three months under threat and then fact of war. Helping in the infirmary. Participating in strategy discussions, because war isn't her area of expertise but she has participated a few times, in her nearly 3,000 years of life. Mediating as a neutral party on inevitable conflicts between Dwarves the Men, especially in the last week and a half when they're under high stress while besieged together with two kings dead in the field.

Carrying a torch in the deep corridors of the Mountain because she's Mannish enough not to see naturally in the dark. Standing extra watches because she's Elvish enough to see well in starlight, especially if the Star in question is her grandfather; and getting scouting reports from the local thrushes, because they're talkative and Melian's heirs have always had a knack for the speech of birds.

Busying herself with sewing a banner for Aragorn, with jewel-stars and a crown of mithril and gold - for her elders have appointed her as their last hope, and she shall hold it for them and for all the people she can save if in the end she must; but her Estel fights in the field. The night the armies of Mordor cross the river to strike at Dale, she stands on the summit of the Lonely Mountain and calls a friend among the Eagles, who takes the finished banner in her talons and bears it south to where Arwen's brothers and cousins ride to Aragorn's side.

(She shares dreams with him sometimes - but she must keep secret a thought that beats in her like a heartbeat, and he must devote all his thought to the quest and the war. So they don't speak much.)

It's about the crushing weight of history and legacy and the very practical matters of running a kingdom in duress. It's about multicultural exchange. It's about love and hope and a hundred different OCs, most of whom will never be recorded in history books even if they die heroically or steal siege-stores to sell on the black market, or simply live and thus deserve to do so. It's about hard work and mortality.

It's about how 77 years after the Battle of Five Armies, Dain II Ironfoot swings his axe until he falls defending the body of Brand King of Dale, son of Baird son of Bard the Dragonslayer, and their people all take refuge in the Mountain together; and Arwen tends the wounded with the Songs she learned from her father and the neat stitches her mother taught her for first cloth, then skin; and she walks among the frightened people - none of them remotely her people; Dwarves and entirely common Men, mostly descended from easterners migrating slowly west - and knows that if these are all she can save, she will gladly die or live as she must in order to do so; and the people hearken a little to see her pass by with starlight in her eyes and on her breast.

And then - after an eternity of painful anticipation, after what feels like no time at all - the Shadow passes, and the wait and tension abruptly lift.

They very much do still have to go defeat that army before the gates, though.

#my fic #lotr #lord of the rings #arwen #arwen undomiel

57 notes · View notes