#sincere deceit kin

[caliginouscreature]

compilation of phone pics of tentative Zaph-self-portraits

[blueyeoftruth]

hello :::¬3 new look settled

[alligais-a]

when the world is against truth

what they call law did not begin today or yesterday when they say law they do not mean a statute of today or yesterday they mean the unwritten unfailing eternal ordinances of the gods that no human being can ever outrun of course I will die Kreon or no Kreon and death is fine

—   Antigonick,  Anne Carson

vencikye stands in the square among her people,  the same people who once chose peace and yet now chant the name of terror.  at first,  she fled the safehouse meaning only to ascertain the situation and to return there once she had done so,  once she knew what had become of her mother.  however,  even since before she was sent there lies and treachery were taking hold of her home:  several crime syndicates suddenly targeted mandalore all at once,  when they are not particularly rich and have in fact struggled due to their position of neutrality;  death watch had then proclaimed themselves the saviours as though they had not bombed the city before,  as though they were ever anything but terrorists;  and the duchess was drowned out by the crowd,  forced to submit to death watch for the people were no longer on her side.  vencikye was sent to safety along with her brother without knowing whether her mother was alive or dead,  and now she must listen as pre vizsla proclaims to all that she fled,  when the truth is that he has surely had her killed at last.  the truth is that he has orchestrated all of these attacks  —  there is no other possible explanation for their occuring all at once  —  in order to usurp her throne.  that truth is clear as day to vencikye,  and yet the people cannot see.  of course,  they were afraid,  and fear is blinding.

that being so,  someone must make them see.  someone must pierce through the fear,  through the web of lies,  and show them the truth.  vencikye knows her mother’s will:  that she be safe and out of harm’s way,  for she and her brother are the future of mandalore.  yet if this is to be their future  —  treason from their own kin;  their people ruled through fear and deceit;  their hard-won peace destroyed and trampled  —,  then she does not want it.  if the future is one without her mother,  then she does not want it.  satine kryze is dead,  and even if it will not bring her back,  the truth of that should be known.  vencikye will not allow death watch to name her a coward,  to taint her memory so unjustly.  she will not allow them to prevent her from being remembered,  for the dead must be remembered always and forever.  i remember you,  so you are eternal.  and her mother will be remembered as the devoted and courageous leader that she was.  her name will be said for centuries to come,  even if it should in turn cost her daughter’s own life.

pre vizsla has gone inside,  presumably to sit upon the duchess’s throne,  and has left no guards on patrol,  for there are none to opppose him.  none save for her,  a young girl with a cause dearer to her than her own life.  vencikye takes a breath and steels herself for what she is about to do.  with her cloak still on,  she winds her way through the crowd and climbs up the steps to stand in front of the palace.  she can hear the murmurs,  and sweeping her gaze over the people she sees that many who were leaving the square have returned or at least stopped in their tracks.  vencikye takes another breath,  and lifts both hands to slowly lower her hood.

a hush goes through the crowd at the sight of her face,  of her headdress.  she shifts and lets the cloak slide to the floor,  leaving it in a pile behind her.  vencikye kryze fled in full regalia,  and in full regalia she now stands before them:  the lady of mandalore,  the duchess’s youngest daughter,  the little lily and the iris.  she wonders if they remember these names at all.  yet there is no time to wonder,  no time to waste.  though she has neither her mother’s gift for speeches nor a script,  let alone an amplifier,  she has years of practice and the sincerity and passion of a girl with a just cause,  the cause of the truth.  she can only hope that will be enough.  it must be enough.

“ citizens of mandalore!  i come to stand before you to beg that you listen:  the duchess cannot have fled.  first because her beliefs would never have allowed her to,  and second because she is imprisoned if not dead.  i understand that you were afraid,  i do,  but please remember that death watch has bombed the very same city which they now claim to have saved! ”  vencikye speaks with fervour,  her voice carrying over the crowd,  her agony plain on her face and in her hands,  gesticulating wildly.  “  do you not think it strange,  that all the galaxy’s crime syndicates would descend upon us all at once?  that death watch would know to come to the capital all the way from concordia just in time to save us?  do you truly think that death watch is not behind these attacks?  and why,  why take the word of a terrorist at face value?  ”  she pauses a moment,  fixes her gaze on those standing closer to her,  as though speaking directly to each of them.  “ for that is what vizsla was,  before he became our savior.  that,  too,  is strange to me!  death watch is not a large group,  yet they brought all these syndicates down to their knees with nary a struggle.  this was clearly a deliberate ruse to undermine my mother’s rule!  ”  

the crowd is murmuring in agreement,  and for a second it seems that they listen,  that this will go well;  that at least they will know,  even if her mother is marching far away.  then a voice rings,  asking  “  what proof do you have? ”,  and other voices take up the question.

“  why,  i have as much proof as pre vizsla!  ” vencikye replies without hesitation,  and she can hear several people titter.  whether they are laughing with her or at her is unclear,  but there is no time to ponder it.  she presses on,  fast and impassioned.  “  though i have no proof as such,  i have my conviction!  conviction not only that death watch staged these attacks to usurp the throne,  but also that my mother would never have fled before them,  that she would have died sooner than she fled! ”  she places both hands just above her heart,  tears pooling in her eyes.

“  have you all forgotten the woman that satine kryze was?  she valued peace above her own life.  but more than that,  she valued her people above her own life.  every time that death watch tried to kill her,  she never wanted anyone to sacrifice themselves for her.  she knew all of our staff by name,  no matter their position.  she went to investigate the poisoning of our children personally,  and she held their hands in the hospital.  she went to great lengths to find the message left by deputy minister jerec and thus stop our occupation by the republic,  all because she believed in him.  she believed in you,  in each and every one of you.  will you not believe in her as she did in you?  ”  a tear falls,  then another.  she blinks the rest of them away and steadies her voice.

“  furthermore,  she lived through a civil war,  she saw devastation and loss.  did she flee?  no!  she stayed and rebuilt our planet from the ground up,  then led us to an age of peace.  i and other children of mandalore have been fortunate never to know war firsthand because of her rule!  people of mandalore,  have you forgotten what the death watch stands for?!  do you truly wish for a return to war and bloodshed,  for your children to grow up knowing such pain?!  i remind you,  the attacks today would not have happened if vizsla had not willed them,  and death watch should have been as overwhelmed as the royal forces were if this had not been their own doing! ”

she stops speaking only long enough to gauge the reaction of the crowd.  there are murmurs of agreement and nods.  whatever dissent there might be is drowned out by acceptance.

“ if the death watch has killed my mother as i fear that they have,  i urge you to instate my brother as ruler so that we may continue living in the peace we have known for the last eighteen years.  we should not be ruled by terrorists!  and if they have not  —  ”

she is cut off as someone in the crowd shouts  “ iris of mandalore!  ”,  being then joined by another voice,  and another,  until the shouts swell almost to a chant.  faintly,  she hears footsteps.  it seems that she has finally made enough noise to attract the attention of death watch.

still she goes on,  frantic with desperation,  “ and if they have not,  i urge you to come with me and storm the prison,  where we will surely find her!  we will find the truth —  ”

again she is cut off as the palace doors swing open and several guards come running outside.  in one swift moment she unsheathes her knife from its hiding place and places it just above her beating heart,  holding the blade in place with steady hands.  the crowd falls utterly silent.

“  one step closer,  ” she proclaims,  her voice as clear and resounding as it was when she spoke to the people,  the words meant to be heard by them as well as the guards,  “  one step closer and i will drive this blade into my heart!  my innocent blood will be on your hands,  and you will make of me a martyr!  all the people will see death watch for the evil it is!  come,  then  —  ”

the pain in her right shoulder is sudden and sharp,  all but unbearable in its intensity.  the knife slips from her fingers and falls down the steps as she sinks to her knees,  hands now over the wound.  they’ve shot me.  her sight flickers,  and through the rushing of blood in her ears she has to strain to hear at all:  pre vizsla himself is assuring the crowd that she is but a young girl in denial of her mother’s cowardice,  that neither her brother nor her are prepared to rule,  that her mother did indeed flee the planet and left her own children behind  —

“ she did no such thing!  ”  vencikye shouts,  in spite  ( or perhaps because ) of the pain.  the scream comes from so deep within her that it leaves her throat aching,  and her body trembles so violently that she struggles to stand.  yet stand she does,  and go on even as guards rush towards her:  “  she would never!  you’ve killed her like you always meant to,  you monster  — ”

two guards catch her,  one by each arm,  and begin to remove her bodily from the square.  she fights them tooth and nail,  blaster wound forgotten,  her blood dripping on the concrete.  “  i will not be silenced!  you will have to kill me to silence me!  ” she screeches as they drag her away,  digging her heels in for all that she’s worth,  thinking wildly that he surely would have killed her if the crowd had not been on her side.  as it is,  he continues to speak to them.

“  do you see?  the girl is half-mad with grief and denial!  but worry not,  people of mandalore,  she will be tended to and sent to her traitorous mother,  and we will find the rogue who shot her —  ”

“ one of your men shot me!  ” vencikye screeches,  lunging forward with a fury even as the guards fight to restrain her,  leaving welts and bruises on her bare arms. “ they are hurting me!  tell them to take their dirty hands off me!  ”  she demands.  at some point she began to weep out of sheer rage, and now the tears mingle with her blood:  from her wound and sores, from her broken nails and bleeding fingers.  “  i don’t mind dying,  but i don’t want them to touch me!  ”

“  child,  they are trying to help you.  you would not be hurt if you did not fight so hard against them,  ”  pre viszla replies,  and oh,  he must sound reasonable and well-intentioned to someone who does not know the truth as intimately as she does.  vencikye spits at his feet.

“  help me!  ”  she echoes,  all blazing eyes and righteous fury,  chin held high even while she bleeds.  “  yes,  certainly they are trying to help me by dragging me off to jail or to my grave!  i spit on their help!  i spit on your lies!  you are the vilest of the vile,  the basest of the base,  to stand there and say that my mother fled when we both know you killed her!  the departed must have their remembrance,  vizsla,  and you will take that from my mother over my dead body!  ”

“  girl,  ”  pre vizsla says through his teeth,  “  your mother is alive,  she  —   ”

vencikye cuts him off with a terrifying,  animal scream.  “ don’t you dare say that she fled the planet again,  don’t you fucking dare!  ”  she screeches at the top of her lungs,  trying desperately to fight against her restraints.  even as vizsla decides that he’s had enough of her and gestures for her to be taken away,  she continues to protest.  “  even if you had kept her alive,  she would be in prison,  and i will not stand for your lies and slander,  i will not!  i refuse to live in a world where the people she gave her life for do not believe her,  i would rather die than live in a world that won’t remember her as she deserves!  we owe it to our dead to remember them,  we owe it to her,  not remembering is to be dar’manda!   how do you not see that?!  you,  you bastard,  liar,  cruel beast!    usurper!  you are nothing but a terrorist,  a brute,  a heartless murderer  — ”

when the palace doors finally fall shut behind vencikye and her guards,  she has long given up on words in favour of blood-curdling screams of rage and despair.  she does not care if vizsla claims she is deranged,  she screams from deep down in her being,  the sounds so raw that they are beyond human.  her only task now is to make sure that she never loses her screams,  to make it so that they reverberate even after her death and the people may never forget her,  or any of this,  or satine kryze.  although death watch is sure to kill her behind closed doors,  she truly does not mind it,  nor feel any fear at all:  as long as her mother is remembered as she should be,  dying will have been worth it.  besides,  she is certain that they will meet again and march hand-in-hand.

[outofangband]

warnings for distorted familiar terms between the Valar (ie, Oromë calling Tulkas his brother, etc), Melkor being himself 

this is not a typical piece for me! Yes, it does involve Melkor being creepy but it’s not about Maedhros and it’s well before he was even born! 

this is my interpretation of this scene!! Because I’ve been utterly obsessed with it. How far would Manwë have let Melkor go? Where would he have drawn the line? How far would Tulkas have played along if Melkor hadn’t angered him so much by insulting Manwë? How would the other Valar react? 

I haven’t been able to decide on answers to these questions but hopefully this will be the start of something more! 

masterlist 

as this is a rare non Maedhros piece I wasn’t sure if I should tag the people I usually do?

“Patience, my friend.” Aulë tried and failed to hide a smile as Tulkas pounded a fist against the gate and drew back for a second. There too in his eyes was a glint of anticipation. 

“No blame I hold the both of you in for desiring hasty action!” Manwë says, “But to do battle here with Melko would only damage this land further. We must attempt first to speak with him. Use guile if we must.” Aulë didn’t argue though neither did he attempt to soothe those of his kin who appeared dissatisfied with this. Oromë approached his king, shaking his head. 

“I second Tulukhastāz” he says stoutly, “The time has gone beyond words for the words of Melko shall give us nought but deceit.” 

Manwë stood lost in thought as a pillar crumbled by Tulkas’s touch. He did not shy away from Oromë’s anger.

“Deceit, I believe you right. But should we encroach by force now will he not merely flee? We know of the many tunnels he has constructed beneath.”

Manwë then called out to Melkor and reluctantly Tulkas stopped kicking at the pieces of the pillar. Oromë had never before seen his brother so agitated. 

“Let the demon flee,” he says coldly, “I shall hunt him as I do any other monster.” The words were bold even from him but the king did not appear ruffled. 

“Arômêz,” he merely says gently, “We do not want him to flee. We need him constrained.”

“Aye,” Aulë says and gestures to the Maiar who have accompanied them to hold the great chain, “Tis a waste to use such a force.” Oromë gave a low chuckle and Manwë looked for a moment as though he would say something but then fell silent. There is an unease through the host at the distinct lack of sounds from within. Tulkas is closest to the gates and spots the messenger first. He grabs Oromë’s arm even as he gestures to his king 

“My lord!” He calls and Manwë turns.

“Lord Melko is pleased to know the Gods have found his abode,” speaks the oily voice of the servant, Langon. 

“He should gladly entertain you,” the servant says with the faintest trace of a sneer, “But he finds himself far too busy to keep His abode in fit state for such venerable guests. Should two enter he shall speak with thee. But! Neither Mânawenûz nor Tulukhastāz should enter. That is his word.”

Tulkas felt a flash of anger at this. He was hardly surprised that coward would refuse him entry but the nerve of him to refuse Lord Manwë when the king was the only one who fought to end this peacefully for both sides?

“Melko’s fear of you, My Lord and of Tulukastāz? Could we not use this to our advantage? He clearly wants you not in his halls. Should we enter peacefully with you an upper hand might be ours.” Aulë suggests. 

Manwë seems to fade away as he thinks. But his voice is perfectly level. “Yes,” he says slowly, “Yes, you are right. Loath am I to employ deceit in turn, let alone against one who has so mastered it, a ruse is perhaps our only chance.” He beckons to his servant and dictates a letter.

"A message from Mânawenûz ! The Valar have come to ask the forgiveness of thee for they have known thy fury and seek to amend what they have done in their foolishness and haste. In Valinor we have asked what best way to amend and alas! Without Lord Melko himself among us we might not right our wrongs against him! For he is the greatest among us and surely Valinor suffers for his absence! In truth, Tulkas  would not assent but I, Manwë ordered him constrained with violence so we might come to thee now and plead for thy pardon!"

They do not speak as they await the return of the servant. Oromë sends Nahar off into the woods and Tulkas stacks rocks. But they do not have to wait in the uncomfortable silence for long. 

The answer returned is hasty and Manwë practically feels the excitement that exudes from the material. Whether or not he had bought the ruse, the offer of the chance to humiliate them had been enough to persuade him. He then sees the conditions that Melkor has laid out and turns to his kin, handing it first to Ulmo simply as he stood closest. Manwë watched the atmosphere become more and more agitated as they took in the response.

"You are agreeing to this?!" Oromë snapped, “You wish for my brother to what…?” 

“Enter in chains,” Ulmo says bluntly as Manwë silently rereads the response from Melkor. He’s gone through it several times already but looks as focused as the first, as though this time he is sure he will spot some new, secret information to aid them.

“Tis not a terrible plan,” Aulë says slowly, “Indeed I could not devise on such short notice another way to ensure that Angaino is brought in without arising suspicion at once.”

“And what precisely is Melko to do with him?!” Oromë said angrily. Tulkas looked uncharacteristically quiet.

“A3ûlêz is right. We must bring Angaino and we will have no other weapons! If Lord Manwë agrees I shall go as described. Fear not, brother. Melko shall have neither chance nor allowance to do harm to me. A blow or two will do me no injury.”

Oromë does not appear satisfied at this. Nessa sways on her feet, looking from one to the other. 

“Is it merely that which he wants?” she asks softly, “To strike you? Tis far too close to equal retribution for his taste.” 

“We will not find out what he wants but should he speak it,” Aulë says firmly, “We shall not allow him to act upon it.” Manwë looks troubled. 

“Constrained with violence,” repeats Ulmo, “A3ûlêz, do you require my aid in this?” 

“In what?” Nessa and Aulë speak at the same time. 

“Melko will not believe we have constrained Tulukastāz by words alone,” the Lord of Waters says. Tulkas nods in agreement.

“If I did not know better I would proclaim thee far too eager to land blows to me,” Tulkas makes a brave attempt at a smile. Ulmo’s expression softens for but a moment as Aulë has his Maiar bring forth the great chain. 

Nessa shakes her head, every bit of her seeming to burst with restless energy so her very form flashes. 

“I am sorry, brother,” Aulë mutters as the others cast their weapons aside. 

“Bold of thee to presume that thy beating shall cause me any pain,” Tulkas teases lightly as he holds out his arms. Aulë clapped his shoulder in approval. “Good.”

 Manwë watches with distant eyes as the youngest of their kin is struck several times. He falls to his knees though only because he allows himself to. Aulë tightens the chains around his arms and neck so his tunic is torn in many places. The lord of the forges murmurs an apology and receives a small but sincere laugh.

“Should I care more for my clothing than the prospect of a peaceful land for the Children, I would not have come with thee.” 

(an important note is that not only did  Manwë agree to this in the text but it was his idea for Tulkas to be given to “Melko’s power and pleasure”. I have to admit this almost coolly pragmatic side of Manwë is utterly fascinating to me, this Manwë who might not understand the depths of evil but knows enough to exploit his brother’s sadism in such a way. And I want so badly to know how far it would have gone had Melkor not made Tulkas angry enough with his insult to Manwë. Can you all just imagine, the other Valar having to watch as Tulkas is what....tortured? Humiliated? We can only speculate what “Melko’s power and pleasure” entails. And they have to pretend they were in favor of this? Sneaking glimpses at Manwë to try and discern where he might draw the line? ahhhh way too many thoughts....)

[scriptflorist]

Character Template

Name: Xuesong

Nickname: A'Song

Alternate identity: n/a

Birthday: (never really thought about it)

Zodiac: -

Birthplace: a non-Earth fantasy land with Chinese inspirations

Dwelling place: the palace 

How do they live: He’s with the elder prince most of the time, since he works for him. He’s a bodyguard of sorts, but also runs errands. His “bedroom” is actually a sectioned off part of a hallway shared with several others.

Appearance: Tall, with long wavy black hair that’s partially braided and tied back with a silk ribbon, blue-green like his upturned eyes. The backs of his pointed ears are covered with brown fur, and he has a pair of brown antlers. He usually wears a navy and gray uniform, with the royal emblem embroidered on the chest, as well as black boots. 

What’s in their bag/pockets: He’s got a small bag with some coins in it. 

Species: Wood spirit

Features of the species: Appears human, but with antlers, deer ears, and monochrome eyes in shades of blue or green.

Name of parents: He was created by a group of mages.

Name of siblings: n/a

Others next of kin: n/a

Not-in-blood-but-in-bond-family: Yunshan, a younger wood spirit, whom he considers like a brother.

Family history: After he was created, he was sent to the palace and handed over to the elder prince as a magical study/training partner and playmate. He was trained “on the go”, facing some punishments at first, but he’s a quick learner. Over time, he and the young prince start seeing each other as friends (and later, romantic partners). Yunshan arrived about two years later, to serve the younger prince, and Xuesong was the one who showed him the ropes. 

Favourite colour: His magic is sort of turquoise so he’s biased to that, but he also likes orange.

Favourite animal: Not one, but he likes birds, especially little ones.

Favourite book: none

Favourite film/show/series: n/a

Favourite genre: probably adventure, he likes listening to those kinds of stories when he has the chance

Favourite food: a kind of drink/soup (it’s served in bowls and eaten with spoons) made with local berries, also egg stir fried with assorted veggies.

Favourite place to be: The palace garden, which he’s allowed in because his magic can vitalize the plants. It attracts various insects and the birds he’s fond of. 

Personality: He’s quite a friendly and kind person, who doesn’t have a lot of power but would try to help in any way he can, or at least lend a listening ear. However, he does get upset if he feels his efforts aren’t appreciated enough, though he does try to hide this out of politeness. He’s responsible in his work and is rarely, if ever, late. His ever-smiling disposition sometimes causes people to think him silly, but he’s actually quite aware of the goings-on around him, and clever enough to use that knowledge if it could aid the people he cares about. He’s not good at making very good decisions under pressure though.

Misc: He gets mindwiped for his illicit relationship with the elder prince. After the prince embarks on a journey to find the legendary cure, his memories and personality return to normal, but he has some trauma symptoms from the ritual.

________________________________________________________________

Hey there stranger,

Haven’t gotten one of these in a while, let’s see what we can do for your character. Hope you find something useful in here!

Birthplace: a non-Earth fantasy land with Chinese inspirations

chinese flower language tag

 He's with the elder prince most of the time, since he works for him. He's a bodyguard of sorts, but also runs errands.

lily (japanese) – you cannot deceive me

lungwort – you are my life, though art my life

monkshood – knight-errantry, a deadly foe is near

wolfsbane – knight, chivalry, misanthropy

Species: Wood spirit

cedar – spiritual strength, strength, I live for thee, think of me

cherry blossom – spiritual beauty, insincerity, impermanence

geranium (night-smelling) – melancholy spirit

magnolia – love of nature, dignity, nobility, perseverance

sorrel (wood) – joy

southernwood – pain, jest, bantering

sycamore – woodland beauty, curiosity, reserve

wood anemone – sickness, forlornness

wood sorrel – joy, maternal tenderness

woodbine – fraternal love, affection

wormwood – absence, do not be discouraged

 black hair

black bryony – support, be my support

blackberry – envy

ebony – blackness

laburnum – blackness, forsaken, pensive beauty

mulberry (black) – I shall not survive you

poplar (black) – courage

 Name of parents: He was created by a group of mages.

angelica – magic, inspiration

fern – magic, fascination, sincerity, confidence, shelter

 Not-in-blood-but-in-bond-family: Yunshan, a younger wood spirit, whom he considers like a brother.

syringa – fraternal love, fraternal regard, memory

verbena (pink) – family union

woodbine – fraternal love, affection

 He was trained "on the go", facing some punishments at first, but he's a quick learner.

marigold – cruelty, grief, inquietude, trouble, chagrin, pretty love, sacred affection, caress, sorrow

nettle – cruelty, slander, you are spiteful

tiger-flower – cruelty, for once may pride befriend me

 Over time, he and the young prince start seeing each other as friends (and later, romantic partners).

acacia – friendship, platonic love, secret love

acacia (rose) – friendship, elegance

acacia (yellow) – concealed love, secret love

ambrosia – love returned

arbor vitae – unchanging friendship, live for me

chrysanthemum – you’re a wonderful friend, abundance, wealth, cheerfulness, truth, loveliness and cheerfulness

chrysanthemum (red) – I love.

citronella – homosexual love

clove –I have loved you and you have not known it, dignity

daisy (wild) – dost thou love me?, I will think on it

freesia – lasting friendship

geranium – true friend, stupidity, folly

geranium (oak-leaved) – true friendship, lady deign to smile

glycine – your friendship is pleasing and agreeable to me

heliotrope – I love you, the intoxication of love, infatuation, devoted affection, devotion, I turn to thee, intoxicated with pleasure

honeyflower – speak low if you speak love, love sweet and secret, sweet, secret, generous affection, sweetness of disposition

honeysuckle – bonds of love, generous and devoted affection, affection, devotion, fidelity, I would not answer hastily

honeysuckle (wild) –generous and devoted love

ivy – friendship, matrimony, I have found one true heart, constancy, marriage, fidelity, wedded love, affection

japonica – symbol of love, sincerity

jerusalem oak – your love is reciprocated

jonquil – love me, affection returned, desire, sympathy, I desire a return of affection

lilac – first emotion(s) of love, beauty, pride

lilac (purple) – first emotions of love

maidenhair – secret bond of love, discretion

motherwort – concealed love, secret love

rose – love

rose (bridal) – happy love, happiness

rosebud (moss) – confession of love, confession

snowdrop – I am not a summer friend, consolation, hope, refinement

tulip – declaration of love, beautiful eyes, fame, perfect lover

tulip (red) – declaration of love, believe me

windflower – symbol of love, sincerity

zephyr flower – symbol of love, sincerity, expectation, fond caresses

 he also likes orange

lily (orange) – hatred, disdain

mockorange – counterfeit, fraternal affection, deceit

orange blossom – your purity equals your loveliness, chastity, innocence, eternal love, marriage, fruitfulness

orange flowers – chastity, woman’s worth, bridal festivities

orange tree – generosity

rose (orange) – fascination

syringa (mockorange) – fraternal love, fraternal regard, memory

 Favourite animal: Not one, but he likes birds, especially little ones.

venus’ car – fly with me

 Favourite food: a kind of drink/soup (it's served in bowls and eaten with spoons) made with local berries

blackberry – envy

cranberry – hardiness, cure for (the) heartache

gooseberry – anticipation

huckleberry – faith, simply pleasures

mulberry (black) – I shall/will not survive you, devotedness

mulberry (red) – wisdom

mulberry (white) – wisdom, prudence

pidgeon berry – indifference

raspberry – remorse

strawberry – perfection, perfect excellence, perfect goodness

strawberry blossom – foresight

strawberry tree – love and esteem, perseverance

whortleberry – treachery, treason

 Favourite place to be: The palace garden, which he's allowed in because his magic can vitalize the plants.

persimmon – bury me amid nature’s beauties

cosmos – joy in love and life

lucern – life

tree of life – immortality, old age

 kind person, would try to help in any way he can

allspice -- compassion

blue bell – kindness, constancy, sorrowful regret, humility, gratitude

elder flower -- compassion

marsh mallow – kindness, beneficence

 His ever-smiling disposition sometimes causes people to think him silly, but he's actually quite aware of the goings-on around him, and clever enough to use that knowledge if it could aid the people he cares about.

kennedia – intellectual beauty, mental beauty

mignonette – moral and intellectual beauty, your qualities surpass your charms

rose (daily) – thy smile I aspire to

sumach (venice) – intellectual splendour, elegance

sunflower (tall) – smile on me still, haughtiness, pride, false riches, lofty and pure thoughts

sweet william – grant me one smile, gallantry, finesse, childhood, scorn

tulip (yellow) – there’s sunshine in your smile, hopeless love

walnut – intellect, stratagem

 Misc: He gets mindwiped for his illicit relationship with the elder prince. After the prince embarks on a journey to find the legendary cure, his memories and personality return to normal, but he has some trauma symptoms from the ritual.

agrimony – thankfulness, gratitude

anthericum -- antidote

azalea – take care, temperance, fragile, passion, romance, temperance, fragile and ephemeral passion

balm of gilead – cure, relief, I am cured

balsam of peru – cure

bay leaf – I change but in death, I change but in dying

bay (red) – love’s memory

catchfly (white) – I fall into the trap laid for me

cranberry – cure for (the) heartache, hardiness

dahlia – my gratitude exceeds your care, instability, elegance and dignity, forever thine, novelty, dignity

dogwood – love undiminished by adversity, I am perfectly indifferent to you, durability

forget-me-not – true love, forget me not, memories

honeysuckle (coral) – I love you, the colour of my fate

lotus – estranged love, forgetful of the past, eloquence, purity

lotus flower – estranged love

love-lies-bleeding – deserted love, hopeless not heartless, dignity, nobility, perseverance

myrtle – love in absence, love positive, love, joy

periwinkle – pleasing remembrances, sweet remembrance, tender recollections, early recollections, pleasure of memories, sweet memories

periwinkle (blue) – pleasures of memory, sweet remembrance, early friendship

periwinkle (white) – pleasures of memory, pleasing remembrance

pheasant’s eye – remembrance, painful remembrance, sorrowful remembrances

primrose (chinese) – lasting love

privet – unfading love

rose (maiden blush) – if you love me, you will find it/me out

rose (single, full bloom) – I truly love you, simplicity

rosemary – remembrance, your presence revives me, healing balm

scabiosa – unfortunate love, unfortunate attachment, I have lost all

swallow-wort – cure for (the) heartache

syringa – memory, fraternal regard, fraternal love

syringa (carolina) – memory, disappointment

yarrow – to cure, a cure for the heartache, cure for a broken heart, cure for heartache

zinnia (yellow) – daily remembrance

– Mod Jana

Disclaimer

This blog is intended as writing advice only. This blog and its mods are not responsible for accidents, injuries or other consequences of using this advice for real world situations or in any way that said advice was not intended.

[thousand-feuilles]

new copypasta dropped

do you watch your best friend’s mental health deteriorate and rot away as they continue isolating themselves and keep themselves in a loop of eternal self-loathing? do you wish for social harmony? do you perhaps wish things could be better? do you blame yourself for everything wrong that happened, even if they’re things outside your control? do you think it’s all your fault that everything is going wrong? are you mad at the world for lying to you? do you perhaps appreciate the starry sky? is stargazing your only escape from your painful reality? do you spend each day tormented by your own survivor’s guilt? 

it’s just a maybe... but maybe you kin the fictional character malachi from sincere deceit

[askganon]

My great king, I must ask an important question not for myself but for the sake of my beloved. How do I properly propose to a gerudo warrior as she is in her splendor? I would never want to dishonor or embarrass her with my ignorance.

It was smart of you to come to me with this question. The first step, of course, is to establish a bond with her through honest and truthful word and actions. To use deceit with a Gerudo in order to get what you want from her is a very poor move, usually resulting in death. As long as you are sincere, it is possible you have little to fear.

That, my small anonymous, is among the most dangerous and important of steps. If you have already accomplished said task, then you are to be commended. Not easily does a Gerudo choose a companion not of her kin, which already speaks much about who you are as a person.

Beyond this, you must prove to her that you are as close to an equal as she would accept. Respect her, but do not bend to her. Know who she is and what she can do, but do not grovel.

If she is a warrior, then she will respect strength, both of the body and of the mind. Prove to her that you are a capable and worthy opponent on the battlefield and off, and she might just return that respect.

I do not understand the need some of my sisters have to be tied with one outside our kin, but that is not up to me to govern. If she desires to be with you, she will be. For that reason, and that reason alone, you have my blessing.

[fortune-fool02]

Not a Snake

Naga Jonathan Joestar x Hunter female reader

Requested by: anonymous 

May I request a scenario with Naga Jonathan and hunter reader? Like the reader thought that the naga was a monster, but only to find out when meeting Jonathan that he's actually really nice?

Naga AU 

I love this! Please enjoy. 

For many creatures, there were always something that hunted them. For mice, it was anything larger than them. For something like deer, it was predators. For something like a naga, it was hunters. Nagas were seen as powerful creatures of strength and influence, and sometimes being seen as primarily represents rebirth, death and mortality, due to its casting of its skin and being symbolically "reborn". 

Though, while some saw them as beneficial symbols, there were always those who feared them, seeing them as a sign of an omen. And thus, wished them dead. That was where [Name] fit into all this. She was one of the few people in the world who could hunt these creatures, and has done so in the past. And was as such leading her to a town that had contacted her, asking her to come and rid them of a believed naga stalking in the woods that surrounded the town. She had accepted it and was currently examining the sightings of the naga. 

A collection of people had told her what they have seen and this naga sounded to be larger than any other she has encountered before, so she would have to be very cautious. If this naga could take a human form, like some could, she would also have to be careful about that. A lot of risks came from this form of job but someone needed to do it. 

Days ticked by and the [Hair colour] hunter had found indications of a naga but not the den yet. That was something she needed to try and locate, hoping that this naga had not produced any offspring. Though, she was not the only one seeking something as the naga was aware of her presence but he had no desire to attack her. Despite what many believed, he was not a monster. He never once harmed a human nor did he wish to. 

Jonathan was not like others of his kin and he simply wanted to live peacefully. He prayed that the hunter would see reason if their paths did cross. As he had returned to his den, he stopped, a foreign scent in the air as he tasted it. 

“Oh dear.” Preparing for the worst, Jonathan slowly slithered closer to his den, noticing how the scent grew more. He spotted a trap laid out, hidden among the tall grass. Metal teeth waiting to sink deep into his muscle and flesh. He moved upright and held his hands out, in a submissive action. 

“I know you’re there, hunter.” He called out, brilliant blue eyes scanning around for the hunter and any other traps. “Please, come out. I mean no harm.” His senses peeked, searching for anything amiss around him. A flicker of movement caught his attention to the side, the cold, dark hole of the barrel of a gun staring him down, followed by [Eye colour] eyes locked on him. Jonathan kept still as the woman emerged slowly, even bringing the full length of his tail into her line of sight. He showed no signs of being a threat to her. 

“You’re the naga I’ve heard of.” She spoke, her tone firm and unshaken, determined. “What’re you doing to these people? What’s your goal?” She questioned, keeping the barrel of the gun locked on the sapphire coloured naga. Jonathan simply remained still and kept his hands and tail in sight for her, showing there is no way he can strike her from the sides. 

“Miss, I wish to survive, that is all. I have caused no harm to anyone, I swear.” He spoke, keeping his eyes on hers, not hiding anything, “I have no intention to cause harm to anyone. All I wish is to survive peacefully.” [Name] had gone against naga before, she knew how they could lie and twist words to their own fitting. Lies spilling from their lips as smoothly as their venom did. Being cautious was always important when dealing with one of these creatures. 

Though, this one’s eyes held no deception nor deceit. He was sincere. Something many of his kind weren’t. In this line of work, with how dangerous it could be, she was always told to trust her gut with the situation. And at this moment, it was telling her this naga was genuine. Slowly, very slowly, [Name] lowered the gun in her hands, her eyes still locked on the naga. A small, gentle smile lifted its lips at this. 

“My name is Jonathan, miss. Thank you for seeing reason and listening to me.” the creature spoke, such a gentle and kind tone, it was different but nice. [Name] nodded her head, 

“You’re welcome. I’ve never encountered a naga like you before.” She told him, “I’m [Name].” Jonathan smiled at her and slowly approached, not wishing to rush and make her feel threatened again, and held his clawed hand out. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, [Name].” A smile lifted her lips at this as she brought her hand up and shook his. 

“Likewise.” 

From her experience, nagas took to heart and nature of their serpent ways. Everything from their power to how they deceived others. Despite what he was, Jonathan wasn’t a monster like they were.  

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Rise Above

Soooo I’ve been OBSESSING over the Witcher series (and currently reading Book 2 in my off time). I can’t seem to get Geralt out of my head and I basically ran out of fics to read/ patiently awaiting updates, so I let my imagination flow with this one. 

It’s going to be a multi-fic with the first three chapters completed and too many ideas brewing. I’m thinking of posting weekly (every Sunday) if there is interest? Please let me know what you think! All feedback is greatly appreciated. I’m also finishing up some Mayan stories because the fandom needs some extra love. 

Masterlist

Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings: slight man bashing, language

****************************************************

Since early adolescence mother always cautioned of the intrepid bewilderments and betrayals men were guilty of alluding to. Their mortal trickeries and wickedness so elegantly aimed to prey upon their next doe-eyed victim patiently awaiting. Mother also taught her to never succumb to their predatorial tendencies without a fight. For this made Y/N swear to never become what others around her so willingly yielded to, and that was a promise she intended to uphold until her last untimely breath. Even against her worst nightmares, Y/N would willingly glower straight into death’s mischievously hollowed eyes than ever give a man a sliver of power over her very existence especially without her consent. Her mother made sure of that.

Y/N reigned from the bountiful lands of Temeria. Plentiful on unharvested acreages and majority of kind folk. Her livelihood rotated between feeding livestock, sharpening blades, tending to her colorful harvested gardens, and riding her beloved stallion, Mr. Darcy among many other hobbies that encapsulated her attention. Days blended into months as Y/N kept with her daily chores watching in discomfort as her mother pretended their lives weren’t about to be upended in numerous ways. Even the mere existence of magic couldn’t make undeniable ailments evaporate. Humans were a multifaceted bag of bones; mages were an untouchable species still yet to perfect their untapped capabilities. Y/N wasn’t too keen on categorizing herself hence her importance of isolation. Her once radiant mama rapidly dissolved into emaciation, staying presently beside Y/N for a moment’s more of honest love.

“Do not let fear grip its’ treacherous claws into you. For I know the searing pain of losing a beloved.” A ragged gasp slipped her lips as she ventured on, her words choppy. “I spent a good amounts time wallowing. Misery is an old friend. And its occasional deviousness ruses you sometimes into thinking that its constant companionship will remain and that one is unable to attain blissful happiness. But you can, you can walk away from pain. Never forget your choices, my love.”

“You have my word, forever and beyond. I will live in your image.”              

Her bones progressively weakened as many sleepless nights withered into dusk; her skin once glowed with the light of a thousand suns now had a clammy-cool manifestation.  Y/N refused to acknowledge the painful jab that infiltrated her deceitful senses, so she stayed the course and masked her outlandish emotions. Now wasn’t the time for pity. But her one solace and comfort were the freedom and exhilaration her morning rides brought to her burdened soul. It was in these hushed moments of tranquility she could actually feel the fresh air maneuver throughout the entirety of her body, engulfing her lungs in a welcoming burn.  He truly was a beauty to behold. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the flitter of his silver mane reflected upon a summer’s day or the thickening of his luscious coats preparing for a long winter. When her loneliest moments fleetingly caught up to her, she was never sincerely lonesome.

Old wives’ tales voiced intricately woven fantasies of princesses awaiting their rescuers in decaying castles merely passing time as their hair grew longer in confinement. Y/N recollected eavesdropping upon the town baker’s inviting stories by the ages of nine, quests chockfull of bravery and resolution, doubt beginning to flood her veins. Another story, another vapid man to ‘save’ the day. She could barely hide the chuckle that fell off her lips when she dare glance at the girls lost in tragic intrigue. One tale in specific resided in her childish memory; painting a certain princess that captured the eye of a handsome knight all within the shadows of her forbidden fortress. His velvety voice promising her everything her heart was trained to desire, all she simply had to obey was his one command; to throw down her beautifully kept hair in order for her release to occur. Why were women forced to choose and best be timely in such a life altering circumstance? Y/N wondered if the Princess truly desired to be set free from her silent haven. 

Like clockwork, Y/N left the bakery in disarray all while quietly venting underneath her breath. The fable lived on for centuries later as all the women in her village maintained their perfectly kept long locks as long as the Gods allowed. From that moment on, Y/N kept her silky blue hair shoulder length and out of the way. Her mother should have named her rebellion by her mannerisms and ideals alone but deep inside her cavernous belly, she carried great pride of her kin, knowing she wasn’t graced with a foolish daughter as far back when she was safely in the warmth of her womb.

Y/N was brazenly gorgeous with a fierce lioness temperament that left men thirsting at her feet, but she merely wasn’t interested in what any suitor had to offer no matter the amount of gold, land, or riches. She was satisfied with little for her happiness to flourish. Her athletic build aided her in this strenuous life asking for no help and receiving none was her personal policy. Her lineage solidified their strength. Hushed whispers from townsfolk accursed them to witches but they had no humanly conception of the power that laid within their own bloodlines. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop men’s gazes upon the beautiful duo. 

Y/N had received no official training as mages were accustomed to but her mother put her faith wholly into her only living daughter. By five, Y/N was capable of complex charms and potions her mother had never laid witness to and for this simply delighted her. Y/N recognized that magic was a tedious give and take, an equal force of dynamics in order to maintain nature’s balance and in secret, she efficaciously thrived. Magic was an underlining necessity that Y/N made sure to never abuse in her favor no matter the situation. She was born and bred with a ferocious vigor and damned be the day she would allow her abilities to do her heavy lifting. Blood, sweat, and tears was her silver lining and Y/N be damned if that was ever taken away from her. She was always a compulsive pessimist, always looking for the soft brown spot in the fruit, pressing so hard she created it. She excelled in the art of secrecy always staying perfectly out of reach even to the woman who adored her completely.

Her mother’s passing hardened her seemingly aloof heart or so she was told.  Memories do not always soften with time; some grow vicious edges like knives. Some hearts will forever understand each other whether death’s door stand in their way or not. Curiously, she didn’t remember when she became exhausted. She didn’t remember when exhausted was no longer exhausted, it just was. The tiredness was in her hardened bones and she accepted this state of being bogged down in apathy. Though through her mountainous misery, goodness could often be found residing in the middle of hell.

Trapped in the comfortability of mundane routine, Y/N fantasized about a journey brimmed with mischief and riddled adventure, but little did she know the Gods were listening to her every whim. Fate and destiny happily intertwined. Over a period, her dreams grew consistently worrisome; haunted by an attractive man with hair the color of the moon, hypnotically golden orbs aside his more than chiseled features. If she were to extend her arm his way, he was just barely out of reach and oh, how she desired for a simple touch; to know what stood in front of her was reality or foolishness. 

What really unnerved her was the repeatedly jumbled words almost as if the man were submerged under harsh waters. His eyes relayed urgency that Y/N couldn’t quite decipher, not quite yet. With every vision entangling itself profoundly into the corridors of her singular subconscious, Y/N was further entranced by the strange gentleman she was graced with every night fall whether by coincidence or curse. And as he groggily faded into oblivion, Y/N had never slept so soundlessly in her entire existence.

[fictionkinfessions]

to all the other sanders sides/cartoon therapy/ts content kinnies... i'm sorry. we shouldn't have to go through this, having to fight and argue and debate the fact that we belong in the fictionkin community. i've seen kinnies of our sources be driven out of general kin servers and bullied because we're "factkin" and it makes me so upset. can't they realize that we kin characters, not real people? no one out there is saying "oh i'm a joan kinnie" or "i'm a thomas kinnie". (1/2) (#🌙🌌)

(2/2) we’re saying we kin the characters these people beloved to us made. we’re not kinning the creators themselves.. i just wish they’d listen. we don’t deserve this. we’re valid as fictionkin, no matter what anyone tells us. and to anyone from our sources out there- you’re loved and supported. even if you don’t know it! i love you all, so, so much. even you, remus and deceit. especially you. we can get through this. keep being your perfect, amazing selves, famILY. - sincerely, virgil. (#🌙🌌)

[koszmar-zycie]

Interview with Koszmar

► Name ➔  “Koszmar Zycie. Koszmar, will do.”

► Are you single ➔ "Hahaha...of course I am.”

► Are you happy ➔   "You could put that label into prospective a number of ways. In some regards yes, I could be considered happy.”

► Are you angry? ➔   “No, actually.”

► Are your parents still married ➔   “Wherever they are now, I imagine so, though they are no longer among the living. Nor those such as myself.”

NINE FACTS

► Birth Place ➔ “Out in what is currently known as the Tirisfal Glades, a ways out into the hills of the low mountains. We were a part of Lordaeron, though our particular little settlement was far more rural than the proper city that hosts the dead, now. It was lovely back then. The forests and city both.”

► Hair Color ➔ His eyes wander across the loose threads of long, black hair around the crown of his head. “Black. Although, when I was alive it was more clear and dark. You might call this charcoal or even ash, now. Lack of life in the pigments and whatnot.”

► Eye Color ➔ “Hard to say anything besides some sort of golden color, now. Always looked amber, specifically, to me. Others seem to feel the same, so that’s always been the one I go with. As I am now.”

► Birthday ➔ “To be honest, I really don’t celebrate that. And I actually don’t keep track of it anymore. I was brought back to life by the Dark Lady’s servants in June. The 26th, to be more specific. That can be my new birthday.”

► Mood ➔ “I’m content at the moment. The festivities in Thunder Bluff have a thick radiance of life and pleasantness that I haven’t earnestly felt since before even the Scourge..”

► Gender ➔ “I’m a man.”

► Summer or winter ➔ “There’s really no preference for me, but the winter is usually quieter. At least outdoors. And while I’m often indoors, I also need to travel or be in the open often enough.”

► Morning or afternoon ➔ “Intriguingly, I’m still an afternoon person. Even considering how things are.” The Warlock adds what appears to be a genuinely amused laugh.

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE

► Are you in love? ➔ "I am not. There is no reason. There are none I feel for in that way, there are none who would want such a thing, and I should make the most of this life anyway. Moving on?”

► Do you believe in love at first sight ➔ “Why not? I’ve heard of several of my kin... when we were living citizens of Lordaeron... who believed such. And they seemed in good ways and happy lives. I don’t see why it couldn’t happen to anyone else.”

► Who ended your last relationship? ➔ "What relationship? I died as a young man, and before that there was only one or two casual interests in the village. Nothing serious or real. Just cutesy partnerships around town and dances and such, so I couldn’t say.”

► Have you ever broken someone’s heart? ➔  "Not romantically.”

► Are you afraid of commitments? ➔ "No.” The undead replies, tapping his opposite arm with a finger. “I know this means romantically, but a commitment is a commitment, and I treat all honors and word with the same respect.”

► Have you hugged someone within the last week? ➔ “I have not.” 

► Have you ever had a secret admirer? ➔ Koszmar laughs, “Besides perhaps childhood frivolity in the town? No. At least I sincerely doubt it.”

► Have you ever broken your own heart? ➔ "The only way this would apply, is through the decision to, or not to, seek out the fate of my sister. It’s probably best left unexplored.”

SIX CHOICES

► Love or lust ➔ “Love, of course.”

► Cats or Dogs ➔ “I think my father had a dog or two. They would have passed when I was young, since I barely remember it. We never had cats, but the other manors and townsfolk did. They’re both alright. Guess I’m more of a dog person.”

► A few best friends or many regular friends ➔ “A few best. I much prefer smaller groups and trusted friends over large groups of ‘okay’ ones.”

► Wild night out or romantic night in ➔ "Neither applies to me. But if things were different, I’d say the night in.”

► Day or night ➔ “I would have said the day, but the night offers a bit more quiet and ease of study, work, and freedom of movement. Though the lighting is beautiful, it DOES make a lot of things harder, as well. I’d still have to say night, I think.”

FIVE HAVE YOU EVERS

► Been caught sneaking out ?➔ “Yes, but nothing serious. My sister and I used to go hiking or to our hidden ‘garden’ from time to time. it wasn’t far, but it was still technically sneaking out.”

► Fallen down/up the stairs? ➔ “Actually, I haven’t. Nor did my sister, Roza.” The warlock scratched a cheek in thought. “Considering the house and our restlessness, that’s pretty good. Of course, we were also well behaved, mostly. Guess that explains it.”

► Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? ➔ Koszmar raises an eyebrow ever so slightly. “Yes.”

► Wanted to disappear ➔ “I’m not too certain that I want to dwell on that question. I’m going to suggest we leave it untouched.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

► Smile or eyes? ➔ “Eyes, honestly. I find them more...naturally... artistic? You can also tell a lot through them.” 

► Shorter or Taller? ➔ “Wouldn't matter to me. Shorter, I suppose.”

► Intelligence or Attraction? ➔  Koszmar’s features shift into a look of confusion. “Intelligence or attraction? Peculiar way to phrase it. I assume you mean physical attraction. But intelligence HAS to factor in to ‘attraction’. So at least to me, you can’t really have one without the other. At all.”

► Hook-up or Relationship? ➔ “Relationship. While I don’t count on that kind of thing at all, if it were a choice, it’d be the one that has purpose.”

FAMILY

► Do you and your family get along? ➔ Koszmar closes his eyes in thought, and doesn’t answer.

► Would you say you have a “messed up life”? ➔ Koszmar opens his eyes slowly and offers an expression, as if to say “Really?”

► Have you ever ran away from home? ➔ "No. Things were always content enough up until the end.”

► Have you ever gotten kicked out ?➔ "I have not.”

FRIENDS

► Do you secretly hate one of your friends? ➔ "By the Light, darkness, and everything in between.” He mutters, shaking his head. “There is no honorable quality in deceit, and I personally abhor lying. So no. And if I grew to have problems, I would discuss it.”

► Do you consider all of your friends good friends? ➔ "To varying degrees, but yes. Though they are few, if you are my friend, it is for a reason.”

► Who is your best friend? ➔"Guess I don’t really have one. Probably haven’t had one since I’ve been of the Forsaken.” he sighs shortly and shrugs. “I mean, it is what it is.”

► Who knows everything about you? ➔ "Nobody who’s alive. Ironically, the closest you could get is that perpetually lurking Sayaad, Cattriel. And only because the role she plays as a consultant for forbidden magics is often gotten through information exchange and freedom of movement.”

Tagged by: @stonestridernerd

Tagging: @fel-light @theforgottenflight and anyone else!

[caliginouscreature]

being fictionkin + having an extremely obscure source + also being new to accepting being alterhuman in general has been p “Weird”, it’s like... okay... I’ve realized this part of myself... now what...

It’s good that ppl no longer tout stuff like kindating and canon calls as the goals and paths you Have To Follow when you’re fictionkin, and how dumb the prevalence of “no doubles” could be, but also maaaan kin communities on tumblr now just feel so much smaller... feels like there’s fewer options for ppl around my own (physical) age to talk to and learn from, and that pool is only SMALLER with how niche-within-a-niche my source is...

lot of my feelings and issues are like... they boil down to “yay, I’m figuring myself out better! but what do I do?”  A lot of folks go to lengths to “feel closer” to their kintypes and sources, but that’s a real challenge when there’s almost nothing out there about your ’type and source, including other fictionkin... feeling thoughtful and a tad isolated I suppose

[bisexualwillscarlet]

marry me, he said  - lt duckling - rated m - ch 2

Prologue

Chapter 1

Princess Emma marries Rumpelstiltskin to save her kingdom from destruction. She’s given up on her own happiness, but every so often, in a flash of blue eyes, she thinks that she glimpses it.

A/n: This goes to present time for Emma rather than exposition and we get a little glimpse of a certain someone I’m sure everyone is waiting to see make an appearance. ;)

Chapter 2 – Marry Me, Instead

Emma refuses to be intimidated by the castle looming in the distance that will soon become her home.

It looks everything that she could have ever imagined the home of The Dark One to look, she thinks, as she peers through the window of her carriage. Large and foreboding. She drinks in the details through calm, green eyes. Six spindly towers reach upwards, like fingers stretching up into the eerily fitting sky of grey. Storm clouds are beginning to form only miles away, and nervous as she may be, even she must admit in a deep, quiet, part of her mind that it is impressive. It is truly the fortress that the whispered gossip by the servants had made it out to be. Walls of a similar grey stone surround it and just beyond, trees grow close to the castle gate – which itself is also vast, like the gaping mouth of a beast, a crocodile with its jaws wide, its teeth the heavy metal bars. It is built for both defense and grandeur, and while ominous in the gloom of early evening, it must be almost beautiful in the sun, the light glistening off of the colored panes of glass that rest in the windows of the largest of the towers. Something else also flits from the largest of towers – black flags. It is a symbol of mourning in many realms and she finds it curious, but tucks the detail away, prepared to deal with only the issue at hand of meeting her betrothed.

Her carriage approaches, and filled with these thoughts, she swallows hard, causing a slight gulping sound in her throat. Noticing the concern in her hand maiden, Ruby’s, eyes, she quickly forces a smile. It’s not that she doesn’t wish this. Truthfully, up until the castle came into sight, her heart had been a flutter of nerves and doubts and excitement all bundled into an odd pit in her belly. She had never imagined that she would marry a man that she had never met – not with parents such as hers – so she feels she is allowed her anxieties. Furthermore, she reminds herself that not only a powerful ruler lives here, but the man that she had grown to care for as well. Cautious as she may be of the king, Rumpelstiltsin, not once since perhaps a few letters into their courtship had she suspected Baelfire of deceit or foul play. Emma tips her chin up a bit in silent defiance. All will be fine.

Ruby returns her smile, reassuring, and reaches for her hand, squeezing. It is a gesture well received from the servant that she had always considered a friend. She is glad that the young woman is accompanying her on her journey to a new life.

“I’m sure he will be handsome,” she teases, a clear attempt to lighten the mood, also well received.

Emma instead blushes, nerves immediately easing. “He…he seems kind. And clever,” she adds, a soft smirk crossing her features and then disappearing into the feigned poise of a princess. “That is my primary desire for my betrothed. Looks, next.”

Ruby eyes her, amusingly unconvinced that her Princess has supposedly not given his looks a thought and Emma pretends not to notice her maid’s gaze.

“Hmm,” is all Ruby says.

Gods, but she is so grateful for her friend, who must be unnerved just as easily by the appearance of their new home, and yet she shows so little of it on her face and in her speech. She had always had this way about her when Emma needed it most, and for that reason, the princess knew her company would be well kept. And so, they sit in companionable silence for the remainder of the carriage ride.

They are met at the gates. First, by the Tenebri guards on horseback, whose presence causes the gates to creak and then heave open, allowing the royal carriage entrance to the castle grounds. They must follow the men and their steeds for a mile’s time when a second welcome party of Tenebri military greets them. The carriage slows to a gentle stop in front of a small group of well-dressed officers – some she recognizes as Navy – Tenebris borders the sea, of course – and others as high ranking of the foot soldiers. A Naval officer with brown curls and broad shoulders approaches the carriage driver and speaks with him briefly. She finds herself studying the man. He’s tall and has a certain stoicism about him that stands out as one of his most prominent features. They all are. She scans them, the men separated into two, uniform groups, split by soldiers and by Navy. This is clearly not a necessity, she does not even think that it is a show of power, but merely as it appears – a nicety from a kingdom that is so defined by its might.

The men stand tall and still as stones, staring straight ahead. They are awaiting orders from the Navy officer, she assumes, who appears to be in charge of the party. She is no stranger to neither guards nor military, but this isn’t Misthaven, nor are they wearing the traditional garb of Misthaven’s soldiers, though the fine cloth and shining buttons that line their coats are familiar. She takes it in with mild fascination, casually gazing out at them, until one man in particular catches her eye. He seems younger than the others, though just as dedicated. His dress is of the Navy, his hair dark and his features handsome, with eyes some of the bluest that she has seen. It shocks her when only his eyes flit unconsciously to her and they meet, for the smallest of moments. It is clearly unintended and she does not distract him further with a smile. Just then, the first officer steps away from the carriage, barks an order to the men – the leader of the foot soldiers repeating the order – and then they are marching on either side of the carriage as it rolls on towards her new home.

They are there in what seems like no time at all. The inside of the castle is quite fortunately nothing like the menacing image the outer walls create for itself. It is utterly grand. While she has wanted for nothing all of her life, the lavish dress of the palace furnishings is almost uncomfortably so.

Hush, Emma. She thinks the rebuke. First, it’s too dark, now it’s too rich? The judgement in her own mind shames her enough for her to take a deep breath and decide to truly clear her mind of all doubts and prejudice until she gets to know it – and her new husband. Still, there is almost a sense of grief, of mourning in the castle, that concerns her. Not one of the servants’ faces anything short of a concealed sadness. She doesn’t like it, and she can tell by the tension in her handmaiden that Ruby does not like the tangible mood of the palace any more than she does.

And then she is being announced.

“Princess Emma – daughter of Snow White and David of Misthaven and future bride of the kingdom of Tenebris!”

-----------------

Emma feels as if all breath is not only gone from her chest, but from the realm, choking her. She feels that she is unable to make a sound, to even gasp. Quickly, she finds herself, years of training from her parents and the countless hours at court coming back to her, even now.

“I--” she bows her head slightly. “My King. I am afraid I have misheard.”

The king is a small, weasel of a man, the shameful thought entirely unregretted in her state of shock. Still, what he lacks in height and stature, he makes up in a general intimidating presence and a vague yet unearthly, golden shimmer to his skin. She would be more concerned by his dark appearance if she wasn’t so terribly alarmed by the words that had just left his mouth.

“I wish it were so,” he says, and his voice is higher pitched than she imagined, but filled with a deep sadness that is so sincere, it could be nothing but truth.

Something clenches in her chest, threatening to choke her again. She feels as if she isn’t even there, as if the words are a dream. Baelfire can’t be-

“I have to admit, I was surprised that you had decided to join us here, after I sent news of my son’s-” He chokes almost imperceptibly. “my son’s death.”

“I had not received such news.” She speaks swiftly and firmly, her mind still denying the truth.

The king might feign surprise, though in her state, Emma does not catch it. No, she cannot quite catch anything that isn’t thrust into her face, much like the death of her betrothed has been at this very moment. Dead. A horse riding accident. The man that spoke of his mother, his love of the sea. The man that had told her secrets and pick-pocketing the maids of sweets. The man that promised to take her riding in the fields of wildflowers everyday if it would please her. These might sound like silly pledges of childish infatuation, but she had clung to his words and childlike excitement about him. Now, he was dead. Her thoughts briefly go to the months that she had gone without letters before the agreement arrived.

“I’m afraid that’s quite impossible, Dearie.”

The familiarity in which he speaks with her offends, but she dares not show it.

“The letter was sent as soon as I had properly mourned my son.” He snaps his fingers and Emma is startled back into reality by the scroll that suddenly appears into his hand. Of course, this is the magic that he was so known for across the realms. He clears his throat and nods, as if this is a copy of the notice sent months ago. “It was a generous offer, if I do say so myself,” the slight smile to his mouth sickens her. “We will keep our offer of peace, even after this terrible event, if by tradition you choose to wed your intended’s next of kin. A tradition again noted in the proposal of marriage, Dearie.” His face again draws somber. “The agreement first signed by my son.”

Exactly what he is saying hits her like a heavy weight on her chest. The treaty. The proposal she had signed. The marriage agreement in Baelfire’s hand.

“Well!” He abruptly begins again, this time with a new vigor in his speech, rather than grief. “I suppose what I’m saying is, a deal is a deal.”

Emma feels like she will faint. She wants to say so many things. She wants to decline the despicable offer in so many colorful words. She wants to demand answers of why the letter had not arrived when so many, many letters from Baelfire had arrived unharmed. His skill of magic and rumors of deceit could never have had anything to do with that. Her insides are seething and squirming as she seeks to change her look of fear to one of poise. She fails. There is no argument to be had. She had signed a treaty, her kingdom was too weak to resist, and now the awful truth remains and it makes her ill.

If she wants to avoid war between Tenebris and Misthaven, she must marry The Dark One.

[outofangband]

I am rewriting and adding to some older pieces!

First two were originally from late 2019, third originally from mid 2020 (original posts are still up)

masterlist 

“The Noldor King is to be handed with silver steel from a precipice of Thangorodrim on the morrow”

The courier left with a swift bow, the messy scroll clenched in their hand. The boy was slumped between His legs as He watched from the throne, too exhausted and weak to carry out much defiance. His face rested in an indignant glare, head forced up at a painful angle by the grip on one of the chains he wore. Blood was trickling steadily down his temple from where the Vala’s nails dug into his scalp.The Dark Lord considered the pathetic thing beneath him, musing on the story he had instructed to be written to the remaining sons of Fëanor. Perhaps he might someday enact it. But for now the elf was best suited here.

“Be you scared, little jewel?” The pet name made his eyes widen as he tried to turn his expression away from the malicious one of his Enemy.

Maitimo cast his eyes downwards, pulling slightly on the chain. He could not bear to meet his captor’s eyes, not least because of the glare of harsh lights contained within His crown but also because the knowledge that this particular battle had been won was evident on the face of the Moringotto. Anger and humiliation would only fuel Him but they were not so easily cast aside by the Noldo. A god should be above gloating but Melkor certainly was not. Maedhros swallowed almost imperceptibly, wanting to curl in on himself as he felt another jerk of the chain around his neck and knew that the Vala’s attention was on him again. He did not know how he could stand this with his pride and dignity undamaged. He did not know how he could stand this at all.

...

The final remains of the tunic and trousers Maedhros had been wearing was cut away, the Vala’s long blade held at an odd angle, the movements frighteningly casual as well as methodical. Upon his arrival, his boots, vambraces, and chest pieces had been taken along with his weapons. His stockings he had been forced to rip apart to bandage a wound on his shoulder. He hadn’t realized how mortifying it would be to stand here, completely bare, in front of his enemy. though of course he understood the purpose of this activity was for his humiliation. His kin did not usually find shame in nakedness, even if he had been shy all his life. But more pressingly, as Maedhros found himself thinking now, the being who stood before him, reveling in his state of undress and the ensuing distress it caused, had not the same concept of a body. How could the Vala know the vulnerability Maedhros felt enough to taunt him for it?

There was laughter from the few guards remaining in the hall, including the two holding his arms.

Maedhros wondered if it was automatic, a response to the look on their master’s face or if they too sincerely found his forced nakedness amusing.

...

“Now that we are alone, should we parlay as was planned? Or perhaps we need not bother. I know what you want, Nelyafinwë Maitimo.” Maedhros felt rather than heard the chuckle as his name was spoken aloud.

“Unless you plan on being true to your deceitful word I do not see the point.” Maedhros’s voice was hoarse from lack of water and try as he might he could not ignore the throbbing pain in his arms.

“Perhaps,” the Vala’s teeth were too sharp and his eyes glinted with malice, “We should reflect upon what has happened since thy guard perished in their attempt to defy the agreements of the meeting.” Maitimo grit his teeth. He knew that his enemy was attempting to provoke him with such a statement and it was all he could do to prevent himself from satiating the cruel being’s need for a reaction.

“I have lived through what has happened,” he says coldly. His hands are bound in chains but his fingers twitch with the need to do something. Anything. Even being in the presence of the Moringotto is suffocating. The Vala’s voice is dreadfully gentle.

“Another emissary has been sent to thy host,” it says, “I am certain that by now, the remaining sons of Fëanáro will become aware of thy absence from the massacre. No doubt they will be wondering what has become of their king.”

“It is futile,” Maitimo snaps, “They know better than to trust you! After what you have just done here?” His heart is pounding and despite the strength of his voice he knows it’s not exactly a statement of confidence. Maitimo cannot foresee any attempt by his host to retrieve him if they indeed are told of his survival. And he could not fault them. He had not set off for such a meeting only for his brothers to risk still more of their people on a futile quest.

“Does it pain thee terribly that what thou sought glitters within reach yet you stand no chance? That you cannot even honor the last wish of thy dear father? Shall I take thy mind off that pain?”

Melkor stood slowly, deliberately, drinking in the elf’s wary gaze. . Even reduced to this diminished state the Vala towered over him and he feels a fragility…a smallness… he has not known since youth. A hand reached out as though to stroke his cheek and he instinctively moved back, rigid.

The Dark Lord’s sudden, maniacal laughter filled the halls and Maitimo could not say where it ended and where the echoes began.

[kinmagick]

hi again! i'm the T anon who requested a tarot reading earlier, it was really helpful! if its ok, could i also request a reading with a the 'Kin-Specific Past Life Tarot Spread'? i think you reblogged it a week ago. i understand its a much longer one, im totally willing to wait however long i need to, but if its too draining, pls feel free to just say so! sorry for asking so much lol, tysm :~)

you absolutely can, dear! and no worries, haha; i completely understand

here we go! [here] is a link to the above-mentioned spread!

1. an emotion/feeling/state of mind that dominated you

page of cups - sensitive, kind, imaginative, romantic, gentle, new love, love letters

you were open to love, or perhaps simply longed for it. the page of cups is soft and sensitive, but also imaginative and creative. creative expression is also a big part of this card, since it can literally represent love letters, haha!

2. an action you took because of it

seven of cups - fantasy, illusion, creative brainstorming, altered states

this card once again represents a dreamy state of mind; it also represents indecision. while the question asked for an action you took, the card says that your action was, perhaps, inaction; though not necessarily from lack of care or interest. the seven of cups represents so much overwhelming choice, and so many options, that stagnation covers you.

this card can also represent altered states; this can be anything from meditation/visualization to alcohol/drugs. perhaps you were led to one of these things by your emotional state of mind.

3. a key event in your timeline

the emperor - power, structure, stability, authority, father

the emperor represents logical and rational thought, enforcing rules and structure, and leadership. perhaps things went from scattered to organized; from free to strict; neither of which are necessarily a bad thing! to me, though, the emperor feels a bit more authoritative than usual, and to me that seems like a conflict, but that doesn’t mean it was!

he can also represent a father or father figure in your life. perhaps something prominent happened involving (or because of) a masculine figure in your life!

4. your role in that key event

three of swords - loss, sorrow, betrayal, necessary sacrifice

this card indicates a difficult loss. this could be the end of something (a life or a relationship), or a feeling of betrayal or rejection, or even more literal loss. 

keep in mind that this is your role in #3, which was a “key event” involving the above mentioned characteristics. this could imply that there was a loss, rejection, betrayal, etc. involving that father figure in your life.

perhaps the difficult loss was a loss of freedom; if you were giving up control for structure and rules, then your role would have included grieving for your lost way of living.

5. your standing with others

five of pentacles - lack of security, unstable, scarcity thinking, alienation, illness, supportive friends

this card represents a threatened sense of security. it can also represent relying on friends, which is never a bad thing! you may have relied on others to help you, or perhaps you occasionally supported them!

sidenote from after drawing and putting up all the cards: i’m sorry, i’m having a good deal of trouble interpreting this one…so, ah, i drew a clarifying card!!

5 ½. how you were perceived by others, overall

two of cups [reversed] - difficulty relating, unequal relationship, no relationship, balancing energy

…so in answer: your standing with others was disharmonious. alright then, seems like you leaned on others without giving back; you took and either didn’t want to or forgot to give back. time apart was needed, or perhaps demanded. while your standing with other people wasn’t all that great, remember that this feels like something you conquered, yeah?

6. others’ standing with you

five of swords - defeat, self-defeat, arguments, irritability, feeling attacked

i’ll jump straight in with this one: you were mean to others, even if you didn’t intend to be. perhaps you didn’t quite trust them, or you simply had to win every argument, but you always had to be “right.” you may have done things you didn’t want to do just to prove others wrong. it’s not necessarily that you saw yourself above other people, but you certainly had a complex about “winning” – even if that wasn’t what you should have been focused on.

7. something you’ve forgotten

ace of cups [reversed] - blocked feelings, numbness, guarded heart, insecure emotions, ignoring intuition

this card is a very stark contrast to the page of cups in #1, but everyone has their facets! perhaps you have forgotten or blocked out a time when you were numb and closed off to help, insight, and emotion. this card can also representing feeling sensitive (to hurt, etc) and acting childishly, such as by lashing out or being unduly stubborn.

this card can also be a push to give up some decadent pleasure, like alcohol, chocolate, or some other type of food. you may have forgotten this warning: to be careful about what you indulge in.

8. a mistake you’ve made

judgement - rite of passage, maturing, reviewing, transition

interesting…this is rarely seen as a negatively-coded card. i’ll do my best to pick out its flaws, haha! ;)

judgement is all about one phase of life coming to an end; it’s about change and release. it’s about growing up and being accountable for your choices and behavior. which, i will admit, seems like a great thing.

but why did you decide to “grow up”? why did you decide to embrace such change? while things cannot stay the same forever, rushing into decisions, or choosing something without thinking it through, can be dangerous and harmful for everyone involved. sure, a teenager may want to try to be mature and drive a car – but what if that teenager is only 13? sometimes, it’s better to hold onto your childhood innocence.

9. something you did right

queen of cups - empathetic, receptive, sensitive, introspective, psychic, emotional, loving, dreamer, counselor, mother

(personally, the queen of cups is one of my favorite cards!! ^^) maturity, sensitivity, and romance – all themes we’ve seen, both in positive and negative lights. here, the implication is that these traits were able to help you in some way. as this card represents empathy and intuition, your emotional nature and gut feelings were able to help you do something right.

you were receptive, loving, and artistic; not all the time (as the queen of cups can also be moody, emotionally manipulative, and deceitful), but you showcased the best of the queen’s qualities at the best possible time. wonderful job~!

10. a lesson learned

eight of cups [reversed] - refusing to give up, avoidant behavior, running away, always feeling something is missing

as this is a negatively-coded card, i’m going to assume the lesson you learned was to not do these things; to stop running away and avoiding conflict or responsibilities. you learned that it’s okay to be sad, and that you don’t always have to be happy. it’s okay to let go and release control of a situation when you know you can’t handle it.

as you can see, you got an overwhelming amount of cups! the suit of cups is associated with receptiveness, femininity, and water. as indicated multiple times in the reading, you were (usually) receptive to emotions.

this was quite tiring, but very interesting to do!

i sincerely hope this helps you!! again, don’t hesitate to let me know how you felt about this reading; what felt right, what felt wrong, what felt weird.

if you have further questions, you can absolutely continue asking, though you’re also free to talk to me privately so we can have more of a conversation!

best of luck with finding out more about your canon, darling!

- mod chara

[globerover2015]

Bad days for demons and rakshas ! Goddess Durga annihilated the Mahisasurs ,Chandas  and Mundas yesterday, Rakshas turn comes tomorrow. Yet, next year , and the year after till doomsday the demons will resuscitate to repeatedly torment us, like the new heads of Ravana sprouting as often as Rama chopped them off. Why ? Maybe Ramkien holds an insight. . 

Ramakien, is the retelling of Ramayana by king Rama I of Thailand in 1807. The narrative is captured in a kaleidoscopic explosion of colours in 178 mural panels on the wall enclosing the huge Emerald Buddha complex in Bangkok. But let’s be clear, Ramakien has no religious import in Thai culture ; for visiting Hindus, however, the murals are an edifying sight for it closely follows the Valmiki epic. ( Rama I is the founder of the present Chakra dynasty, with its new capital at Bangkok after the old capital, Ayudhya, was ransacked by the Burmese) 

Ramakien recalls the ancient times when there were two principal cities -Ayudhya populated by men and ruled by descendants of Narai (Narayana) and Lanka settled by Brahma for giants and ruled by his relative Chaturpak from whom Totsakan (Ravana ) traced his descent as ruler of Lanka. In his previous incarnation Ravana was a giant named Nonduk in the service of Shiva whose abode was atop the Krailat hill. Nonduk’s job was to wash the feet of any visitor who took the first step to climb up the hill. While getting their feet washed gods used to tease and playfully pull his hair. One day Nonduk found out that the gods had made him bald as a coot. Enraged he complained to Shiva. To placate him Shiva gave a boon that made his forefinger as strong as a diamond and if pointed at anyone that person would immediately drop dead. Now when visiting gods teased him Nonduk simply pointed his forefinger and that would be the end of him. Gods panicked, went to Shiva who tells Narayana to kill him. 

Narayana takes the form of a beautiful damsel, a Mohini, and lures Nonduk to a dance. Gradually, Narayana so manoeuvres dance gestures that Nonduk’s forefinger points inwards. The moment it does, Nonduk suffers death pangs and Narayana resumes his original form. Nonduk feels cheated and calls Narayana a coward for killing him through deceit. Before Nonduk dies, Narayana tells him that in the next birth Nonduk would be born with ten heads, twenty hands and endowed with powerful weapons, while he would be reborn as a normal human being only to do battle with him. So a Ravana-Rama war was pre-ordained. 

In his present birth Ravana suffers humiliating defeats and loss of face in a number encounters with Palee (Bali) and Orajun, so he goes to his guru, Kobut, and implores him to somehow make him strong and invulnerable. Kobut takes out Ravana’s soul ,encases it and keeps it securely in his hermitage. Unless body and soul is killed simultaneously Ravana cannot die. He becomes invincible and immortal. 

When the Lanka Yudha reaches its zenith Rama is wonder-struck that Ravana’s brothers and sons, other kith and kin,seasoned generals and stalwart warriors fall but he remains unscathed. Puzzled he asks Bibhishan who lets him in on the most well kept secret. Hanuman is told to find a way out. Hanuman and Ongkot (Angad) hatch a ploy. They meet Kobut and spill out a litany of mistreatment, slights, insults, and abuses the two brothers had meted out to them despite their unflinching loyalty and dedicated service. Better to serve Ravana than such a master.  Seething with bottled up rage they had come to offer their services. Only he could convince Ravana of their sincerity to help his cause and their own selfish one of seeking revenge and settling scores with Rama. 

Kobut decides to take them to Ravana. 

Hanuman asks , “would it be safe to leave behind Ravana’s soul ?”

Kobut agrees and carries along the soul cage.

On way, Hanuman asks “why is the soul cage kept so far away, isn’t it inconvenient ?”

Kobut explains, “soul has an innate affinity for its body so must be kept away.” 

They reach the gates of Lanka city. 

Hanuman queries “wouldn’t it be better to leave the cage here instead of taking it close to Ravana ?” 

Again Kobut agrees. Ongkot stays behind with the soul cage while the two go to meet Ravana who is delighted beyond words to enfold a renegade as powerful as Hanuman. Meanwhile, Ongkot using magical powers makes a perfect replica of the soul cage and hands it to an unsuspecting Kobut. 

Now Hanuman goes to war on the side of Ravana and battles Laxman most creditably and returns to a hero’s welcome. Ravana rewards him with slain Indrajit’s property and widow and declares him heir of Lanka. Next day, Ravana brings up the rear of Hanuman’s forces. At the battlefield Ravana sees Ongkot handing over the real soul cage to Hanuman. He now knows Hanuman has duped him. His time is up . Rama shoots an arrow that pierces his chest ; at that very instant Hanuman tramples upon his soul pulverising it to dust . Ravana is dead. 

Yes, one Ravana died, but souls of many remain intact. No wonder, Ravanas revivify. Ramakien itself is proof enough. Bibhishan is challenged by Ravana’s sympathisers and Rama has to rescue him. Ravana’s anonymous son, however, dethrones him and Hanuman has to do battle again. Ravanas never die.