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dykepuffs · 2 months

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How Do I Make My Fictional Gypsies Not Racist?

(Or, "You can't, sorry, but…")

You want to include some Gypsies in your fantasy setting. Or, you need someone for your main characters to meet, who is an outsider in the eyes of the locals, but who already lives here. Or you need a culture in conflict with your settled people, or who have just arrived out of nowhere. Or, you just like the idea of campfires in the forest and voices raised in song. And you’re about to step straight into a muckpile of cliches and, accidentally, write something racist.

(In this, I am mostly using Gypsy as an endonym of Romany people, who are a subset of the Romani people, alongside Roma, Sinti, Gitano, Romanisael, Kale, etc, but also in the theory of "Gypsying" as proposed by Lex and Percy H, where Romani people are treated with a particular mix of orientalism, criminalisation, racialisation, and othering, that creates "The Gypsy" out of both nomadic peoples as a whole and people with Romani heritage and racialised physical features, languages, and cultural markers)

Enough of my friends play TTRPGs or write fantasy stories that this question comes up a lot - They mention Dungeons and Dragons’ Curse Of Strahd, World Of Darkness’s Gypsies, World Of Darkness’s Ravnos, World of Darkness’s Silent Striders… And they roll their eyes and say “These are all terrible! But how can I do it, you know, without it being racist?”

And their eyes are big and sad and ever so hopeful that I will tell them the secret of how to take the Roma of the real world and place them in a fictional one, whilst both appealing to gorjer stereotypes of Gypsies and not adding to the weight of stereotyping that already crushes us. So, disappointingly, there is no secret.

Gypsies, like every other real-world culture, exist as we do today because of interactions with cultures and geography around us: The living waggon, probably the archetypal thing which gorjer writers want to include in their portrayals of nomads, is a relatively modern invention - Most likely French, and adopted from French Showmen by Romanies, who brought it to Britain. So already, that’s a tradition that only spans a small amount of the time that Gypsies have existed, and only a small number of the full breadth of Romani ways of living. But the reasons that the waggon is what it is are based on the real world - The wheels are tall and iron-rimmed, because although you expect to travel on cobbled, tarmac, or packed-earth roads and for comparatively short distances, it wasn’t rare to have to ford a river in Britain in the late nineteenth century, on country roads. They were drawn by a single horse, and the shape of that horse was determined by a mixture of local breeds - Welsh cobs, fell ponies, various draft breeds - as well as by the aesthetic tastes of the breeders. The stove inside is on the left, so that as you move down a British road, the chimney sticks up into the part where there will be the least overhanging branches, to reduce the chance of hitting it.

So taking a fictional setting that looks like (for example) thirteenth century China (with dragons), and placing a nineteenth century Romanichal family in it will inevitably result in some racist assumptions being made, as the answer to “Why does this culture do this?” becomes “They just do it because I want them to” rather than having a consistent internal logic.

Some stereotypes will always follow nomads - They appear in different forms in different cultures, but they always arise from the settled people's same fears: That the nomads don't share their values, and are fundamentally strangers. Common ones are that we have a secret language to fool outsiders with, that we steal children and disguise them as our own, that our sexual morals are shocking (This one has flipped in the last half century - From the Gypsy Lore Society's talk of the lascivious Romni seductress who will lie with a strange man for a night after a 'gypsy wedding', to today's frenzied talk of 'grabbing' and sexually-conservative early marriages to ensure virginity), that we are supernatural in some way, and that we are more like animals than humans. These are tropes where if you want to address them, you will have to address them as libels - there is no way to casually write a baby-stealing, magical succubus nomad without it backfiring onto real life Roma. (The kind of person who has the skills to write these tropes well, is not the kind of person who is reading this guide.)

It’s too easy to say a list of prescriptive “Do nots”, which might stop you from making the most common pitfalls, but which can end up with your nomads being slightly flat as you dance around the topics that you’re trying to avoid, rather than being a rich culture that feels real in your world.

So, here are some questions to ask, to create your nomadic people, so that they will have a distinctive culture of their own that may (or may not) look anything like real-world Romani people: These aren't the only questions, but they're good starting points to think about before you make anything concrete, and they will hopefully inspire you to ask MORE questions.

First - Why are they nomadic? Nobody moves just to feel the wind in their hair and see a new horizon every morning, no matter what the inspirational poster says. Are they transhumant herders who pay a small rent to graze their flock on the local lord’s land? Are they following migratory herds across common land, being moved on by the cycle of the seasons and the movement of their animals? Are they seasonal workers who follow man-made cycles of labour: Harvests, fairs, religious festivals? Are they refugees fleeing a recent conflict, who will pass through this area and never return? Are they on a regular pilgrimage? Do they travel within the same area predictably, or is their movement governed by something that is hard to predict? How do they see their own movements - Do they think of themselves as being pushed along by some external force, or as choosing to travel? Will they work for and with outsiders, either as employees or as partners, or do they aim to be fully self-sufficient? What other jobs do they do - Their whole society won’t all be involved in one industry, what do their children, elderly, disabled people do with their time, and is it “work”?

If they are totally isolationist - How do they produce the things which need a complex supply chain or large facilities to make? How do they view artefacts from outsiders which come into their possession - Things which have been made with technology that they can’t produce for themselves? (This doesn’t need to be anything about quality of goods, only about complexity - A violin can be made by one artisan working with hand tools, wood, gut and shellac, but an accordion needs presses to make reeds, metal lathes to make screws, complex organic chemistry to make celluloid lacquer, vulcanised rubber, and a thousand other components)

How do they feel about outsiders? How do they buy and sell to outsiders? If it’s seen as taboo, do they do it anyway? Do they speak the same language as the nearby settled people (With what kind of fluency, or bilingualism, or dialect)? Do they intermarry, and how is that viewed when it happens? What stories does this culture tell about why they are a separate people to the nearby settled people? Are those stories true? Do they have a notional “homeland” and do they intend to go there? If so, is it a real place?

What gorjers think of as classic "Gipsy music" is a product of our real-world situation. Guitar from Spain, accordions from the Soviet Union (Which needed modern machining and factories to produce and make accessible to people who weren't rich- and which were in turn encouraged by Soviet authorities preferring the standardised and modern accordion to the folk traditions of the indigenous peoples within the bloc), brass from Western classical traditions, via Balkan folk music, influences from klezmer and jazz and bhangra and polka and our own music traditions (And we influence them too). What are your people's musical influences? Do they make their own instruments or buy them from settled people? How many musical traditions do they have, and what are they all for (Weddings, funerals, storytelling, campfire songs, entertainment...)? Do they have professional musicians, and if so, how do those musicians earn money? Are instrument makers professionals, or do they use improvised and easy-to-make instruments like willow whistles, spoons, washtubs, etc? (Of course the answer can be "A bit of both")

If you're thinking about jobs - How do they work? Are they employed by settled people (How do they feel about them?) Are they self employed but providing services/goods to the settled people? Are they mostly avoidant of settled people other than to buy things that they can't produce themselves? Are they totally isolationist? Is their work mostly subsistence, or do they create a surplus to sell to outsiders? How do they interact with other workers nearby? Who works, and how- Are there 'family businesses', apprentices, children with part time work? Is it considered 'a job' or just part of their way of life? How do they educate their children, and is that considered 'work'? How old are children when they are considered adult, and what markers confer adulthood? What is considered a rite of passage?

When they travel, how do they do it? Do they share ownership of beasts of burden, or each individually have "their horse"? Do families stick together or try to spread out? How does a child begin to live apart from their family, or start their own family? Are their dwellings something that they take with them, or do they find places to stay or build temporary shelter with disposable material? Who shares a dwelling and why? What do they do for privacy, and what do they think privacy is for?

If you're thinking about food - Do they hunt? Herd? Forage? Buy or trade from settled people? Do they travel between places where they've sown crops or managed wildstock in previous years, so that when they arrive there is food already seeded in the landscape? How do they feel about buying food from settled people, and is that common? If it's frowned upon - How much do people do it anyway? How do they preserve food for winter? How much food do they carry with them, compared to how much they plan to buy or forage at their destinations? How is food shared- Communal stores, personal ownership?

Why are they a "separate people" to the settled people? What is their creation myth? Why do they believe that they are nomadic and the other people are settled, and is it correct? Do they look different? Are there legal restrictions on them settling? Are there legal restrictions on them intermixing? Are there cultural reasons why they are a separate people? Where did those reasons come from? How long have they been travelling? How long do they think they've been travelling? Where did they come from? Do they travel mostly within one area and return to the same sites predictably, or are they going to move on again soon and never come back?

And then within that - What about the members of their society who are "unusual" in some way: How does their society treat disabled people? (are they considered disabled, do they have that distinction and how is it applied?) How does their society treat LGBT+ people? What happens to someone who doesn't get married and has no children? What happens to someone who 'leaves'? What happens to young widows and widowers? What happens if someone just 'can't fit in'? What happens to someone who is adopted or married in? What happens to people who are mixed race, and in a fantasy setting to people who are mixed species? What is taboo to them and what will they find shocking if they leave? What is society's attitude to 'difference' of various kinds?

Basically, if you build your nomads from the ground-up, rather than starting from the idea of "I want Gypsies/Buryats/Berbers/Minceiri but with the numbers filed off and not offensive" you can end up with a rich, unique nomadic culture who make sense in your world and don't end up making a rod for the back of real-world cultures.

#worldbuilding #world building #fantasy races #racism in fiction #nomads #romani stuff

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my-heart-beat-for-anime · 1 month

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Feyd-rautha x Atreides reader headcanons pt.3

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3

- the black sun burned on the sand of the arena, which was soaked with the blood of the slaves killed in honor of yours and Na-Barons engagement

- the Atreides were appalled at how many lives were lost just to celebrate

- Feyd was standing in the middle of the bloodied bodies, staring intently at his betrothed, who was sitting next to his uncle

- he made his way towards the tower with quick steps and when he reached just below the spot he dropped to one knee and looked up at the figure of his betrothed

- I was confused as to what he was waiting for and why all the people watching this fight were suddenly silent and watching you with the same focus as na-baron

- the baron's huge hand landed on your shoulder, " He is waiting for his prize Lady Atreides."

he grunted in your ear and nodded to the slave who was handing me the knife. My confused expression must have told the baron that I had no idea what to do.,, He shed blood for you in the arena, now you must go through, now you need to spill yours blood for him."

- I approached the edge of the balcony and looked down at the waiting Feyda, whose eyes were wide in anticipation.

- I cut my hand with a sharp knife, held it out in front of me so that the blood could fall freely.

- but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Feyd-rauth as he swallowed my blood as it dripped onto his lips

- after a while Feyd stood up and shouted something in the Harkonnen language, which I didn't understand, but the crowd went wild, thanks to the words and shouted the same words as my future husband.

- the baron laughed behind me and pointed out, "My lady they are shouting for you, they are shouting for their na-baroness."

- at that moment I was filled with pride and excitement

- in the end it won't be so bad to marry him, there was still the boy in him who carried me on his back when i got hurt

- the morning of the wedding arrived and the servants were swarming everywhere to prepare everything in time

- the wedding was supposed to be mainly in House Harkonnen style, but my father was able to talk the baron into allowing one tradition of House Atreides, that the bride and groom have a net soaked in water draped over their heads during the ceremony to bind the new couple together into a happy future.

- this tradition was one of the oldest in Caladan and I desperately wanted to follow it, I didn't want the whole wedding to be based on my future husband's lineage, but I wanted to have a piece of my heritage there as well.

- the whole day passed too quickly and before I knew it I was standing in front of the door of the ceremony hall.

- my father had tears in his eyes and gently kissed my forehead before he offered his arm and we both walked towards the altar.

- Feyd was happy, he knew from the first moment he saw her that she would be his. Even if he had to start a bloody war because of her, he would do it. And now he was finally going to have her, watching her float to him on her father's arm.

- as if in a dream he stretched out his hand to her and helped her climb up to him, he didn't even notice when someone threw a wet net over them and cold water started running down his neck, he didn't notice the words of the man who was giving them away. He snapped out of his stupor, when he and his soon-to-be wife were invited to pour their blood into cups and drink each other's blood. He didn't even notice the blade that cut my palm, I could only watch her as she slowly swallowed my life-giving liquid.

- Oh how beautiful her lips looked when red blood glittered on them

- her blood was sweet I wondered what her next fluid would be so sweet. Now finally came the favorite part of Harkonnen weddings, namely the hunt.

-,, If I were you, I would run away, my na-baroness."

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maidragoste · 1 year

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can you please make a Harwin Strong x reader where the reader and breakbones fall in love and get married but then the rumors about jace’s heritage start and Harwin admits cheating??? Thank you in advance

Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader

note: sorry for taking anon to make your request, and also for not following it completely. I hope you like it 🥰🥰

If you want a part two let me know because I already have ideas 👀

Part 2

reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🥰💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.

"He is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon" announced your good sister proudly handing the baby to the king, you excitedly waited your turn to meet your nephew. The next to take the baby was the queen, you couldn't help but worry when you saw how the smile disappeared from her, you understood that your nephew had been healthy and without any deformity so you didn't understand why your friend's face suddenly seemed so concerned. It even seemed to you that Alicent was hesitating before passing the child to you.

And when you held Jacaerys in your arms, you understood why. All the emotion you felt disappeared the second you saw her brown locks on his little head. Your vision blurred and you began to blink to make any possible tears disappear. You weren't going to cry. You wouldn't make a scene. The existence of this child was humiliation enough. The boy was precious but you couldn't bear to see him anymore so you passed him on to your brother.

"Hopefully the next one looks more like Velaryon," you said with a fake smile and the room suddenly seemed cold. You were pleased to see Rhaenyra and Harwin tense up. "I suppose mother's Baratheon blood is stronger than we thought," you added, looking at Laenor. You also felt betrayed by your brother. You were sure that he also knew about your cousin and husband's affair and he was never able to tell you.

"It could also be Aemma's Arryn blood," Viserys said, and you wanted to laugh when he didn't seem to read the room. Or perhaps he preferred to feign ignorance before punishing his daughter for giving birth to a bastard.

•••••

“Is it yours?” was the first thing you said as soon as you were alone with your husband in their chambers. You didn't need to clarify what you were talking about. Harwin knew you were talking about Jacaerys.

The city guard commander thought through his answer. He didn't want to endanger the princess or his son, but from the look in your eyes he knew that if he lied to you, your reaction would be much worse. It was useless to lie to you because you already knew the truth. You knew it the first moment you saw the little prince.

"Yes," he replied "I'm sorry" He wasn't sorry about the birth of his child but he was sorry for hurting you.

You already knew the answer to your question, you just wanted to see if your husband was brave enough to admit his infidelity. You felt like such an idiot for not having seen it coming sooner…

Lie. You saw it coming only you were in denial and you turned a blind eye. You convinced yourself to believe Harwin's lies when he told you that he wouldn't come back to your chambers because he was on night watch even though you knew he couldn't have so many shifts in a row. You pretended not to hear the servants talk about the closeness between the commander of the city guard and Princess Rhaenyra. You ignored Larys and Alicent's concerns about those rumors. You ignored every red flag because you refused to believe it was true.

You had fallen in love with Harwin because he was a good man, he was attentive and loving and he made you laugh. In your head Harwin couldn't be hurting you and deceiving you in front of the whole court, your Harwin would never do that. Not the sweet man who had taken it upon himself to learn your family traditions for your wedding, not the man who whispered sweet words to you in the morning, not the man who looks like a happy puppy every time he sees you, not the man who From time to time he would bring you gifts after his patrols because according to him that bracelet or that ring reminded him of you… Not even when the princess got pregnant, he never made all those gestures or went to your bed. If he won't love you then he should have stopped doing all of that, unless he was only doing it to keep looking like a loving husband in your eyes.

"You love her?" You crossed your arms in an attempt to put on armor, you didn't want to show him how much his betrayal affected you.

You knew Harwin well and you knew he wouldn't cheat on you just for a one-night stand or just for passion. He wouldn't spoil his marriage just on the whim of the moment.

Harwin's eyes looked at you with deep sadness. He didn't want to hurt you even more but you deserved to know the truth "I love her" he admitted "I love both"

He wasn't lying. He still loved you, he could never stop loving the lovely girl he met as he helped her climb a tree to avoid a suitor. But her heart now also belonged to the princess, it had not been her intention to fall in love with her. After saving her from the incident of her wedding, he couldn't help but worry about her and he took notice of her as he seemed to have no one at court. He became close to a friend, he began to get to know what Rhaenyra was really like and he was captivated.

"Go to hell" you dug your nails into your arms, holding yourself back from punching him in the face "Now do you want to be like Aegon the Conqueror? Do you want to have two wives?" You sneered "From now on you will spend one night with me and ten with her?" you snorted.

Harwin took one of your hands and held it pressed over her heart so you could feel her heartbeat "I really love you both."

"It doesn't matter, because you already lost me" you let go of her grip and your husband looked at you with pain. At another time you would have felt sorry for him but now all you felt was pure resentment. "Please, go back to your princess and leave me alone"

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glorified-red · 1 year

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Auburn Traditions (Damian Wayne x Reader)

summary: After your wedding, Damian spends the night finding his name in your bridal henna. In the safety of your presence, he can share his true feelings to you. word count: 1,550~ warnings: none Special thanks to @quillsareswords for bouncing ideas around until this fic was born. I am soft for this man. This is the mushiest thing I've written in so long. Literally kicking my feet writing this.

It came as no surprise when Damian popped the question.

You two flourished beside each other, growing individually in the comfort of each other’s embrace. For years you stood beside Damian. Through high school you helped him study every exam season, said quick greetings in the halls, and even helped him find all his classes his first year. In college you motivated him through finals, went to every pesky orientation, and cheered the loudest when he walked across the stage one final time.

Almost in tandem, Damian returned the favor. He asked you to Prom your senior year, holding up a shy bouquet of flowers and a corsage. He attended every performance of yours, big or small, because the mere presence of him was more support than you could ever wish for. Damian dragged you to bed on long nights and held you through so many tough ones, never letting go through it all.

You moved out together years later after you found the perfect forever home and finally made it yours. The walls were painted deep into the night, muted tones swiped onto his nose only for him to fling it back at you. Together, Christmas lights were hung across the house year after year as you danced to the upbeat tunes in your own living room while the fireplace warms you up after a long day in the snow.

So when Damian kneeled before you, his heart pouring out of his chest as he spoke words of reflection and his own green eyes shining with affection, you had to say yes. A year of bliss with Damian Wayne, your fiancé, soon to be husband. You carved out a section of this chaotic world and made it your own, a section full of adoration and unwavering love.

The wedding night was one to remember. It was an extravagant night filled with family, music, and laughter. Damian couldn’t keep his eyes off his bride for very long, far too many of the wedding photos showed Damian’s soft gaze towards you.

Your vows were heartfelt and private, opting to say your true feelings in the comfort of each other and no one more. Damian Wayne, the man of very few words, had the most poetic words fall from his lips that day. Damian Wayne, the man with ironclad emotions, cried in front of you when the vows continued forward—not that he’d ever admit that, but you knew.

So here you were, the wedding night bliss still radiating off of you as you sat in front of Damian—your husband—on your shared bed. Your outfits were hung up ages ago, torn off the second you could and changed into something more cozy with softer fabrics and looser seams. Bobby pins were scattered across the bathroom sink as you let your hair rest. Damian’s own hair was ruffled, the gel long since worn off.

Neither of you minded, no amount of makeup or luxurious outfits could make Damian fall for you any harder than he already has.

“You’re really intent on finding it,” you commented playfully, your voice dipped into softer volume. Your hands rested in his, decorated in vibrant amber. Delicate florals weaved their way across your fingertips and palms, vines twirled across the negative space until their leaves grew on your hands. Mother Earth herself had kissed your hands and let her beauty flow across your skin—her own blessing to the marriage.

Henna: a tradition that was nothing short of mesmerizing. You remembered the day Damian asked for this, a small portion of his heritage incorporated into the best night of his life. And of course, you said yes, accepting every part of him happily.

His hands traced along the arabic style that seeped into your skin, spaced out leaves and florals that left a gorgeous amount of free space to show off your own beautiful skin. It wasn’t nearly as intricate as Mehndi, for this style of henna focused on the palms to bring in love and cherish memories. But every dot on your skin was as fascinating as the one before it, carefully placed into a beautiful design.

“Of course,” Damian responded, his gaze incredibly focused on the detailed pattern on your hands. He flipped over your hands to look at the top. “The fate of the marriage rests on this moment.”

You snorted, “You just don’t want to admit that I’m the dominant one in the relationship.”

Damian tsked, “You wish.”

“Well,” you looked over at the clock, “you have five minutes before that superstition comes true. Better hurry up, bird boy.”

“There’s no need to rush me, I will find it before the night is over.”

You hummed in disbelief, a playful tone falling from your lips. The room fell to comfortable silence once more, the only sound was the soft breathing that landed onto the tips of your fingers.

His hands were so gentle as they touched yours, a faint warmth emitting from his own hands and transferring to yours. Even as he turned your hands this way and that, his fingertips traced along the design. The touch was feather-light, almost tickling the surface of your hand.

He never touched with much pressure. Even though the dye was a deep rich color, beautifully stained on your hands and wrists, he didn’t dare to wear it thin. Talia herself told you every tradition as she crafted the henna on your hand, happy to play such a significant role in her son's marriage—and welcoming you to the family? She was overjoyed to receive that call.

So when your henna turned into a darker tone overnight, you immediately knew the deep connection between you and Damian was gorgeously on display. The color signified more than just love and an unwavering bond, but it also represented your place beside your new family, and the love you will surely receive from them.

“You look beautiful with this on, Zawjati,” he spoke just barely above a whisper, as if the amber design had Damian mesmerized. The words fell from his lips absent-mindedly, a new term of endearment taking flight in an instant. The gesture meant more to him than he could ever explain, from the reconnection to understanding, all the way to acceptance, his heart was unbelievably full.

You glanced up at him, your eyes met the softened gaze of a man so deeply in love, the rest of the word slipped away. That gaze conveyed more to you than any poetic vow.

Your heart was equally as full. His simple wedding band was smooth against your fingers, the new shimmer of metal was vibrant against the tan of his skin. Your own traditions having melted into the wedding with the rings, a permanent symbol of the promise Damian made to you each and every day: to love and cherish you.

“That’s a new one,” you said, pushing past the breathless feeling in your lungs.

He rolled your fingers in his and sparks flew up your chest just like the first day you met him, even after all these years. He hummed in question, his eyes scanning the patterns with deep concentration.

“Zawjati,” you continued. “What does that one mean?”

Damian shifted slightly, not uncomfortably so, but as if his brain was mulling words around behind his eyes so his body swayed on instinct. “My wife.”

The smile that broke across your face happened in an instant, a full gleam of happiness filled your body that you couldn’t possibly contain. “Oh?” you teased, as if the words didn’t burrow themselves in your chest to create blossoming trees, “I’ve upgraded now.”

The corner of his lip ticked upwards so slightly you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t staring. There was a tint of your lipstick stained on his lips that you didn’t notice before. His fingers toyed with yours, they slipped in between yours with a ticklish touch.

“I’ve been wanting to call you that for years,” he said it so simply, like that profession didn’t take the air out of your lungs and make your heart flutter alongside it.

“Years?” you breathed out, stunned by his words. You knew his love for you was profound, but to be looking forward to spending the rest of his life with you for years? Your head whirled from the whiplash.

“Yes.” Just as simply as the words that came before. “My heart knew who it belonged to the second you entered my life. You were the only one who ever saw me for who I really was, not who I could become. You were the only one who made me look forward to living, not for the sake of saving lives to simply do it again the next day, but to keep coming home to you.”

“You make the future seem possible. You,” he breathed, “you make me want to be better, not because I have to, but because I truly want to. That is why I’ve always been more partial to the other translation of Zawjati.”

The word rolled off his tongue and your heart danced. “And what’s that?”

His thumb swiped across your pulse point where his name was imprinted on your skin in subtle cursive, easily blending into a vine. He gently brought the point to his lips.

“My better half.”

Taglist ♡

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#Damian Wayne x reader #Damian Wayne x you #Damian Wayne x y/n #robin #Damian wayne #robin x reader #robin x you #robin x y/n #Arab Damian wayne #bridal henna #fluff #batfam #batfamily #batboys #dc #dc comics #batman

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violentvaleska · 3 months

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒓

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴs/ ᴀᴜ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ!ʟᴇᴠɪ × ʏᴇᴀɢᴇʀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴏʀ ʟᴇᴠɪ ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀ ʜɪs ʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴜɴᴄʟᴇ sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ, ʜᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴡʜʏ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴏғғᴇʀ ᴋɪɴɢ ɢʀɪsʜᴀ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴀʟ: ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʜɪs ᴏɴʟʏ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ, ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀs ʜɪs ᴡɪғᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴇᴍᴘʀᴇss.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: sᴍᴜᴛ, sʟɪɢʜᴛ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴɢ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ, ᴏʙsᴇssɪᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴏssᴇssɪᴠᴇ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, sᴇxɪsᴍ

ᴀ/ɴ: ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴀs ᴡᴇʟʟ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜɪs...ᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅs ᴏɴ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴜʏs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ;)

Emperor!Levi who actually never wanted to be the damn king of anything. Being the only heir to the throne after his late uncle passed away he had no choice but to take the rein of the war-ridden empire Paradis

Emperor!Levi who decides after a long conversation with his consultant Erwin Smith, that the war needed to end, there was no point in continuing something his megalomaniacal uncle has started. And if conflicts aren't solved with war they are being solved with women. There opinion in this doesn't matter, an arranged marriage would be a key to peace and a potential marriage.

Emperor!Levi who offered the Marleyan King Grisha Yeager a generous deal: His cousin Princess Mikasa Ackerman of Paradis and Hizuru would be married off to their second son, Prince Eren Yeager of Marley and Levi would take their daughter in return, making her Empress of Paradis. He knew they wouldn't be able to refuse the deal, considering that Grisha Yeager's second wife, Carla, was once a noblewoman of Paradis.

Emperor!Levi who secretly only offered the deal because King Grishas youngest children were in fact half Eldian.

Emperor!Levi who, when he saw you for the first time, couldn't belive his luck. You, the Princess of Marley, were in fact a true beauty. You not only looked clean but smelled like it too, like you were taking good care of yourself. It truly relived him to see that you weren't filthy like your oldest brother Zeke. He originally planned to offer Mikasa to him, but seeing how he already had a wife, Ymir, a woman with eldian heritage and slave history, he had to give her hand to the younger brother.

Emperor!Levi who thought you were rather shy and docile, but came to realize that you infact were able to keep up with his cynic personality and were well read too.

"At least our children won't be as dumb as the heir to your lands throne" He told you the night before your wedding at dinner.

"I can't argue that. Zeke is an eccentric narcissist, I'm honestly glad to have a different mother than him." You awnsered calmly, taking a sip of your wine, while glancing at your soon to be husband.

Emperor!Levi who could not longer control himself on your wedding night and broke your hymen with a harsh trust of his hips, making you yelp in a mixture of pain and pleasure, as you wiggled under his body, naked and vulnerable. Levi took his sweet time with you, making sure to impregnate you well.

Emperor!Levi who despised the idea of children, but somehow find the encouragement to fuck you every night in hopes to see your belly round with his child, his own heir, soon.

Emperor!Levi who got madly protective over you when the doctors confirmed your pregnancy to him. It went so far he didn't even want you to leave his chambers in fear something could happen to you. You felt furious, trapped and robbed of your freedom. Freedom, something your brother Eren had plenty off now that the war was over thanks to you and his wife, Mikasa.

Emperor!Levi who didn't understand why you were so upset with him, demanding of you to be grateful instead of a "nagging woman". If it wasn't for his own mother to stop her sons madness, you'd probably still be locked up in his room.

Emperor!Levi who nearly cried tears of joy when he held his newborn son in his arms for the first time, calling him Furlan after his late friend, a soldier who died a heroic death in the war. It was bitter, yet filled his cold heart with joy.

Emperor!Levi who found a new obsession in having you, his wife and empress, as an object of his desires, in every way possible. He'd make sure you won't be able to go back to that filth of a kingdom you have been born in. You were his wife now, his very own key to his heart...

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opencommunion · 4 months

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Hello, I really don’t want to be rude or anything like that but I would love to know any more information about the Christians in Palestine, Lebanon and Syria like, is it true Gaza had family lineages dating back to Jesus Christ? Asking because Ziocucks love making it seem as if Christians don’t exist over there

omg not rude at all, actually this is my favorite thing to talk about (it was a major focus of this blog prior to Al-Aqsa Flood) it's a huge topic so I'll link a ton of resources, but to answer your main question: yes, many Palestinian Christians in Gaza and elsewhere can trace their family history with Christianity back to the 1st century. the Christian community in Gaza is said to have been founded by the apostle Philip. the first bishop of Gaza was the apostle Philemon, the recipient of a Pauline epistle. a core zionist myth is the idea that contemporary Palestinians only arrived in Palestine in the 7th century or even the 20th century (see the links for debunking). but there's plenty of documentation of continuous Christian (and Jewish) presence in Palestine before, during, and after the emergence of Islam. Palestinians (and Levantine ppl more generally, but esp Palestinians because of the totality of their colonial dispossession—stories are often literally the only heirlooms refugee families have) typically have very strong family oral histories going back many centuries, so if a Palestinian tells you their family has been Christian since the time of Christ, take their word for it. community continuity is also about more than family trees—even if someone's family came to Christianity later, they're still part of the continuous living heritage of their community. the continuity of Palestinian Christianity is also evidenced by Palestinian holy sites. because Christianity was illegal in the Roman Empire until Constantine took power, dedicated churches weren't built until the 4th century, but many of these churches were built around existing sites of covert worship—for example the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem was built around a grotto that was already venerated as the site of Jesus' birth, the Church of St. John the Baptist in 'Ayn Karim (a forcibly depopulated suburb of Jerusalem) was built over a 1st century rock-cut shrine marking the site of John the Baptist's birth, and the Church of the Multiplication in Al-Tabigha (a destroyed and forcibly depopulated village on the shore of Lake Tiberias) was built over a limestone slab believed to be the table were Jesus fed the multitude. throughout the Levant there are also many ancient shrines (maqamat) that are shared sites of prayer for both Christians and Muslims; in Palestine many of these sites have been seized by the occupation and Palestinians are prevented from visiting them.

Palestinian Christian communities who are able to travel to the villages they were expelled from in the Nakba will sometimes return there to celebrate weddings and holidays in their ancestral churches, e.g. in Iqrit and Ma'alul (x, x). of course because the occupation heavily restricts Palestinian movement this isn't possible for most refugees.

here's some resources to get you started but feel free to hmu again if you have any more specific questions! Zionism and Palestinian Christians Rafiq Khoury, "The Effects of Christian Zionism on Palestinian Christians," in Challenging Christian Zionism (2005) Mitri Raheb, I am a Palestinian Christian (1995) Mitri Raheb, Faith in the Face of Empire: The Bible Through Palestinian Eyes (2014)

Christ at the Checkpoint: Theology in the Service of Justice and Peace (2012) Faith and the Intifada: Palestinian Christian Voices (1992) The Forgotten Faithful: A Window into the Life and Witness of Christians in the Holy Land (2007) Faith Under Occupation: The Plight of Indigenous Christians in the Holy Land (2012) Palestinian Christians: The Forcible Displacement and Dispossession Continues (2023) Donald E. Wagner, Dying in the Land of Promise: Palestine and Palestinian Christianity from Pentecost to 2000 (2003)—can't find it online but worth checking your library for

Pre-Zionist History James Grehan, Twilight of the Saints: Everyday Religion in Ottoman Syria and Palestine (2016) Ussama Makdisi, Artillery of Heaven: American Missionaries and the Failed Conversion of the Middle East (2008) Kenneth Cragg, The Arab Christian: A History in the Middle East (1992) Christopher MacEvitt, The Crusades and the Christian World of the East: Rough Tolerance (2007) John Binns, Ascetics and Ambassadors of Christ: The Monasteries of Palestine 314-631 (1996) Derwas Chitty, The Desert a City: an Introduction to the Study of Egyptian and Palestinian Monasticism Under the Christian Empire (1966) Aziz Suryal Atiya, A History of Eastern Christianity (1968) Michael Philip Penn, When Christians First Met Muslims: A Sourcebook of the Earliest Syriac Writings on Islam (2015) Early Christian Texts The Acts of the Apostles (1st century, Palestine. yes I'm recommending the bible lol but I promise I'm not trying to evangelize, it just really paints a good picture of the birth of Christianity in Jerusalem and its early spread) The Didache (1st or 2nd century, Palestine or Syria—the earliest known catechism, outlining how Christians were supposed to live and worship) Cyril of Scythopolis, The Lives of the Monks of Palestine (6th century) Sayings of the Desert Fathers and Desert Mothers (early Christian monastics)

for more resources specific to my tradition, the Maronite Church, see this post. for other misc Syriac tidbits see my Syriac tag. this is just scratching the surface so again, if you (or anyone else who sees this post!) have more specific interests lmk and I can point you in the right direction

#palestine #history #church history #library

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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year

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The Sunflower Of Highgarden Pt.1 (Daemon x Reader)

Again I love your guys ideas but when a request is just too long you must understand that I need to make it a part two thing cause I do not like writing just a full novel at one go. Enjoy!

The wedding is in a fortnight grandmother you can’t say no to everything”

“Nonsense, my dear Margaery your wedding is the most important wedlock ever since queen (y/n)”

“Queen (y/n) eloped”

“Not exactly, she was married to a Hightower before Daemon Targaryen intervened, besides their story before their wedding has always been the most interesting part”

(Y/n) was a beautiful young maiden when she first met the rambunctious prince Daemon, she was a beautiful woman yet Daemon found her hallow on the inside.

“I will not marry a fragile little daughter of a garden lord”

Her servants had heard the prince confide to his father, she was deeply wounded by the comment, he had insulted her family, her legacy, he was a dragon but that does not imply he can frown upon all the other great houses, she found him repulsive after that incident and besides, he was soon wed to Rhea Royce, who Daemon deemed worthy enough and her strong character was something he found promising.

(Y/n) kept her spirits high as years passed by, time had smiled at her and graced her with a beauty of a true Tyrell woman, her smile and delicate way of life was a delight to be around.

She was dressed in the finest of dresses for the tournament, a woman of her status left without a betroth was starting to nip at her heels and the tournament was filled with young men from great houses. Daemon could barely recognise her, he had left her a feather in the wind and now it was almost like she had a sun above her head, the light followed her around and gave her the appearance of perfection.

“I humbly ask for the favour of lady (y/n) Tyrell, the sunflower of Highgarden”

Gwayne Hightower called for her, a smirk appeared on her lips before she reached for flower crown and approached the stand, slowly she leaned to let the crown slip down the man’s spear.

Her nickname was always amusing to her, especially now that the prince that had rejected her had come back with rumours of his terrible match and brooding face, like a dog with its tail between his legs.

“I wish you the best of fortune Lord Gwayne”

Her eyes sparkled like finest of gems, Daemon had to regain composure after he caught himself wondering how soft her touch would feel on his skin, if he did not like the Hightowers prior, now he despised them and he had to show it to the whole world.

When Gwayne was so harshly met with the ground (y/n) rose up from her seat with a gasp, everyone swooned at the ladies concern for the lord of the reach, thankfully the man was alright besides suffering a few wounds, the incident however was quickly forgotten when Daemon crowned the Tyrell flower as the queen of love and beauty, which had left a particular Targaryen princess fuming.

“Lady Tyrell, it’s been far too long”

“Not long enough for me to forget a certain cold hearted prince that casted me aside”

“A terrible mistake indeed but we no one is perfect lady (y/n)”

“Mayhaps, we are also not cruel or dismissive”

“I see the sunflower has a thorn in her heart”

“Sunflowers are known for being the home of bees my prince, so allow this to be a warning of a mighty sting coming your way”

“I would never dare to harm you lady (y/n), I was just wondering if you would like to walk with me to the gardens, as a friendly companion”

He reassured her of his intentions being pure. (Y/n) raised her eyebrow as she silently considered the pros and cons, he was a man that had spoke in such a demeaning manner for her heritage, yet he was still a prince and to be seen with a man of such high status would definitely make a few lords act faster with asking for her hand.

The next few days had been quite the eventful ones, Daemon would spend every morning with lady Tyrell in the gardens as they spoke about countless of things, he found out a lot about her, for example of how he had underestimated her tremendously, (y/n) had a sharp edge to her and was extremely quick witted, a master at diplomatic affairs and a wonderful advisor for some of his concerns he had expressed during her tea time.

“I will be praying to the Gods for you safe return my prince”

“Let’s hope that having your good graces will do me more than what it did for the Hightower”

“My intentions had nothing to do with you being a sore loser, you did not oppose him with an honour that is bestowed to a dragon”

“I opposed him with the fury that a dragon holds, we did not become kings by being kind now did we?”

“Let us discuss this when you come back, I believe war awaits you”

That’s when he offered her a gift, a necklace he had ordered to be made for her, (y/n) gasped at the sight of the golden piece, she adored necklaces, she gently took it from his hands before she looked up to smile at him in complete joy.

“I shall cherish it”

“Until we meet again, sunflower”

As much as she would wish to have the luxury of sitting in a tower and wait for her knight in shinning armour to come back, times were different than what fairytales are keen on painting as a picture.

The daughter of such high status, she should have already bared sons for her lord husband, now there she was sitting at court without a husband.

Gwayne Hightower was a young man, the son of the hand of the king, brother of queen Alicent, he came from a family that was one of the richest houses in all of Westeros and the most handsome young lord at court, he had already shown interest when he asked for her favour so when Daemon was out of the picture he took it upon himself to court her and then ask for her hand.

He was a kind man, someone that she enjoyed having in her presence, that should be enough for her to be content with her betrothal and she was for a while, that all went away when Daemon bursted in the throne room wearing a crown, her heart skipped a bit at the sight of him, luckily for her she masked it well and when Daemons eyes shifted on her she only leaned closer to Gwayne and she even gave the young lord a smile that he reciprocated.

“You shouldn’t marry him”

“Alright I won’t, then what? I become your paramour and get ridiculed by the 7 kingdoms? I give birth to your bastards while you dwell in your horrible marriage and seek for my company? We could have already been married, this entire situation was caused by your stubbornness”

She had fired back when he once cornered her in the castle, she had instructed her servants and guards to not allow Daemon to be around her, she could not afford to be distracted by the rogue prince any longer as much as it ached her she had to do what was best for her and lord Gwayne was exactly that.

The feast before her wedding had been one for the books, Gwayne and (y/n) were the talk of kings landing, (y/n) looked like a dream in her gown while Gwayne twirled her around in the dance floor, all the ladies swooned over the happy couple, gushing about the perfect match.

So why was the only thing on her mind the scandal around Daemon and Rhaenyra? Every time she would glance at the Hightower lord her brain would fabricate images of the couple in the brothel.

“Prince Daemon of House Targaryen”

The knight announced as the doors flew open to reveal the prince, everyone except the couple rose on their feet, Gwayne did it so how his utter displeasure for the prince showing up uninvited and (y/n) because she was battling herself to not scream at him.

“Congratulations Lord Gwayne Hightower, Lady (y/n) is more than you would ever hope for. Will the lady do me the honour of accompany me for this dance?”

Silence fell over the room, (y/n) wanted to kill him, how dare he stroll at her most important day and demand anything? Alas, considering his status she had no choice but to squeeze Gwaynes hand and place a peck on his cheek and walk over to the prince, his extended hand waited patiently for hers, once her skin touched his a smile appeared on his lips, that shuttle physical contact was as addicting as the best Dornish wine.

“You look stunning”

“You honour me prince Daemon”

Her phrase stung him like a mighty bee. (Y/n) would always call him “my prince” or “Daemon” when they were alone, now it was “prince Daemon” a shuttle change yet so profound to him, as they danced other couples decided to join and rather quickly Daemon and (y/n) were lost within the twirling crowd.

“Are you happy?”

“Gwayne will make a wonderful husband”

“That’s not what I asked”

“Gwayne will never dishonour me by belittling my “garden” house nor will he ever be seen with his niece at a brothel, so yes I am content with my match”

(Y/n)s defensive stance brought Daemon to withdraw from provoking her, at least for the rest of the dance. The only thing that somewhat comforted him was that even the night before her wedding her neck was decorated by the necklace he gifted her, he briefly reminisced of that blissful day.

Daemon was never good at talking, that was his brother, so he now had no other choice but to reside in what he did best, cause chaos.

Luckily for him it was not that hard, as whispers were something that could be spread relatively easy, it started with whispers that Gwayne had intended to marry another, so he got the ladies talking, now as everyone knows you can start with one rumour and the public will do the rest for you.

(Y/n) had been dancing with lord Tully when another lord grabbed (y/n)s hand to yank her away, one thing led to another and anyone was fighting everyone, you could hear the ladies scream as the guards instructed directions to one another so they can get the important people out of the room safely.

Daemon who’s familiar scenario looked something like this weaselled his way in the crowd, the last thing poor (y/n) remembered was seeing Daemon run towards her, she threw herself to his arms when her ears started to ring.

“Get me out of here”

She whispered. At once Daemon sweeps her off her feet, he was well aware that (y/n) did not mean to take her from kings landing, yet how could he resists? She had passed out in his arms with her head on his shoulder and no one was really paying attention, at least as of yet.

Up in Caraxes they went and their next stop would be Dragonstone, she would be safe there.

“Where am I?”

“On Caraxes”

(Y/n) only half opened her eyes when the only thing she could see was Daemon and clouds, instinctively she clings on to the Prince for safety and from the sudden shock she passed out again, (y/n) remained unconscious for the rest of the ride.

Daemon found her breath taking, he admired how peaceful she was in his arms, how could he be so stupid to let her get so close to marrying another? He could have been her lord husband all this time if he had not been so young and dim witted, his sunflower slept so easy in their new chamber, her hair pooling around the pillow as she stayed on her right side, carefully he took off her shoes and tucked her in, waiting patiently for her to wake up and probably attack him once she finds out where she is.

(Y/n) did not rest for long, well not as long as daemon wished to be exact, she batted her eyelashes a few times before she had finally regained her strength to be fully conscious.

“Welcome back, how are you feeling?”

“I will live, what happened?”

“You fainted, probably from being overwhelmed”

Images of the unfortunate incident flooded her brain like a storm, what a mess and on her wedding feast! Her lord husband must be fuming and awfully concerned.

“Where’s Gwayne? I must speak to him”

“That won’t be necessary or even possible”

“I don’t understand”

“We are not in kings landing (y/n), you are on Dragonstone”

He watched as (y/n)s expression switched ever so subtlety at first to her jaw tightening and her lips pursing while her eyes brows furrowed, she made the mistake of moving in a fast pace for her feet to touch the floor, as soon as Daemon saw her wobble he was by her side, his arms wrapping around her until she shoved him away and sat back down on the bed.

“Do not touch me”

“(Y/n) you need to listen to me”

“You destroyed my most important day, you kid napped me”

“I did what was necessary, I could not leave you to marry that imbecile of a man”

“He was smart enough to recognise how good of a match I was”

Silence fell over them for a moment, her eyes threw daggers at him once again as she brought her knees up to her chin, curling up to a ball as a sign to show how unsafe she felt around him, still as she pouted at him she was irresistible to him.

“I understand how my younger self’s behaviour was uncalled for but allow me to make it right”

“And how exactly are you planning to do that?”

“Marry me, I will marry you under the tradition of old Valyria”

“I am not from old Valyria in case you haven’t noticed and you are married”

“My own marriage was recently… dissolved and we can marry under the seven gods as well, if that is what will make you happy”

“Is that what you want?”

“For you to marry me?”

“For me to be happy? You keep asking about it”

“Yes, is that so bad?”

“No, it is not, though it took you long enough”

She hinted as they both giggled, the tension between them dissolving after years of being apart, the trouble their marriage and elope had caused was tremendous.

Howbeit their wedding under the seven gods took place in highgarden, they wed at the garden that (y/n) used to ran around as a child, they even went for a horse ride with her favourite horse, eclipse was a brown stallion that was gifted to her by her beloved father, she looked exquisite riding her horse, trotting around and laughing as she showed off her skills.

(Y/n) and Daemon resided in Dragonstone per Daemons wish, he did not want his family around the bitter Hightowers that had definitely held a grudge against them.

(Y/n) spend her days painting and playing the harp if she was not on dragon back with her lord husband or on horse back, Daemon would spend hours observing her, her delicate fingers gracing over the strings that created such delightful sounds or seeing her frown while painting and creating a masterpiece.

Naturally the love they had for each other took form in their first born daughter, beautiful Yavanna was a spitting image of her father, except the eyes, those sparkling (y/c) eyes would make Daemon weak in the knees as he melted in his daughters hands.

Then came their majestic son, Aragorn, he had somewhat of long hair with one single strand of his mothers hair colour, Daemon would joke often about it.

“Your mother would always complain over our children being Targaryen featured, of course she manifested you getting just the right amount of features to be both”

Third came another daughter, Aesira, she was the second version of her mother except her violet hues, from hair colour to attitude she was a true Tyrell, (y/n) would say the gods were punishing her since she had been a rather spoiled and stubborn as a child and certainly a smart ass.

Their trips to kings landing had been extremely rare, (y/n) would not have it otherwise, she had tried to connect with Daemons family, she was the one that advised him to take the family back to driftmark for Laenas funeral, a day she whole heartedly wanted to forget.

Requests are open!

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mrsbarnesxxx · 2 months

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Bill Weasley x Malfoy!reader. Met at Hogwarts, dating since graduation. Bill brings reader home and Weasleys hate her/treat her like flour until bill snaps them they get to know her. End with fluff

Warnings: slurs/general unkind words (nothing too serious), fighting, angst, Bill being an absolute sweetheart

It wasn't easy growing up a Malfoy. Everything you did was under scrutiny. Everything was about blood status. Your parents barely spoke to you anymore now that you had "betrayed" them by dating Bill Weasley. You two had met at Hogwarts, you'd had classes together every year, and eventually, the two of you bonded about being the eldest in your family. Eventually, one summer day, Bill had asked you to marry him. Of course, you said yes, however, you were regretting saying yes to spending time with his family. You had gotten to the burrow yesterday afternoon and no one had said a word to you. Maybe they thought you'd be like your family, but they clearly weren't interested in getting to know you. They would look at you and scoff before turning away. You expected a bit of apprehension from them. Bill had told you this was the first time he had brought a girl home and your family didn't exactly help, but you hadn't expected them to be this bad. Over the last day, they had escalated from ignoring you to saying blatantly rude things. They would call you a blood supremacist, a snake, and all sorts of other things.

The second night you were there you had enough at dinner.

All of his brothers had been making subtle comments since dinner started, you'd expected one of his parents to say something, but it seemed they agreed with them.

"J'aimerais y aller, s'il te plaît." I whisper leaning over to Bill after his mother's latest jab.

"What? English is beneath you, princess?" Bill's brother Ron jeers.

"Alright, that's enough," Bill says standing up from the table. "All of you have been nothing but rude to my fiancee since we got here. None of you have bothered to get to know her or even ask her anything about her. You haven't even bothered to make polite conversation that anyone could tell was fake. What is wrong with you? You used to be the most loving people. I get the world is messed up, but that's no excuse for your behavior. Come on, let's go." He says, finally turning to me and extending a hand. I take it, offering a polite smile at his family before we leave the room.

"You have to understand that we never expected you to bring someone like her home." His mother exclaims. That seems to stop Bill in his tracks. He turns around to face his family.

"Someone like what? You don't even know her. You always said that you never cared about blood, but it seems you care about her's." He says. "Let's go."

He turns back to me, taking my hand and leading me upstairs.

"I'm so sorry, darling. I can't believe they acted like that tonight." He says pulling me into a hug.

"Bill, you can't be serious?" I ask pulling away from him. "They've been acting like that since I got here. You haven't heard your brothers' comments about my 'murderous heritage'? Or your sister asking me to pull up my sleeves to check for a snake on my left arm? Or your mother calling me 'one of those people'? The only person who has been remotely kind to me is your father and he just hasn't said anything to me."

"I'm so sorry. I should have paid better attention. I have no idea why they're acting like this." He says softly, caressing my cheek. "We'll go first thing in the morning, okay?"

"We can't go, Bill. We're supposed to be having the wedding here. In the backyard with your parents and the rest of your family." I explain.

"I don't care. If they're treating you this way, then they don't get to come to our wedding."

"Bill, they're your family!"

"And you are too." he says caressing my cheek. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, I want you to be the mother of my children, and in 16 days, you're going to be my wife, so that makes you the most important person in the world to me, okay?"

"Okay." I smile leaning up to kiss him.

As soon as our lips meet there's a knock on the door. We pull away from each other, Bill running a hand over his face before turning to his mother in the doorway. He doesn't say anything, simply looks at her waiting to see what she has to say.

"We're so sorry, Bill. We never meant to treat her like that...we're just...we're sorry. Please come back downstairs. We can start over." His mum offers.

I smile and take Bill's hand, "Please." I whisper trying to relax him.

"Okay." He nods looking at me.

I smile, interlocking our fingers before we head downstairs.

As we reach the table, anxiety fills my chest at what his family might say or if they never like me, but I know that none of that matters because I have Bill.

#mrsbarnesxx #mbxxrequests #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley x malfoy!reader #bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley angst #bill weasley fluff

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nightskyslayer2 · 1 year

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Aegon II Targaryen x sister!reader

Summary: Y/n is to be wedded to their nephew Jacaerys and came to Aegons chambers for comfort. She’s scared and doesn’t want the marriage to happen because she’s in love with her brother.

“Aegon….” the Targaryen princess whispered into the future kings neck as he caressed his sisters wet cheek. “… I don’t want to marry him”. Aegon shut his eyes in distress and pulled her even closer to his body. The warmth of her shaking form pressed against his gave him chills. Their mother had just announced that she is to be married to their nephew Jacaerys to provide peace amongst the families. She listened to her brothers steady heartbeat trying to calm down, eyes red irritated and hurting from crying so much. Her big brother rested his chin on top of her head and sighed whilst squeezing her waist slightly. He stared at the window and then clenched his jaw, trying to compress his anger. “I won’t let that bastard take you …” his words melted her heart at instant and her hands pushed gently against his chest so she could look at his tired shiny yet with rage filled eyes. She felt so safe in her brothers arms but the thought of marrying her nephew scared her. He forced a smile onto his lips and repeated his thoughts once again. “I won’t let him claim you… you belong to me, no other man shall have you my love.” He gently took her chin between his fingers and leaned in, her pleading eyes immediately shutting. He slowly kissed a wet spot right under her left eye, his lips still resting right above her cheek. His claim made the crying princess giggle slightly and he sent her the sweetest and purest smile. “As soon as I’m king nobody can refuse me my wish. I’ll claim you as my wife the second I’ll be able to” He looked at her in adoration, his mind filled with the idea of them being wedded and y/n being with his child. But suddenly her face dropped again and his eyebrows raised in worry. “But… you are to be wedded to Helaena…” Aegon chuckled at her silliness. “Cant you see you’re the only one I want dear sister?” He gently took her face with his fingers and guided her eyes up to his. “I don’t want Helaena- and I don’t want the crown but I can’t and won’t live with you being taken away from me, married to a man that dishonoured our family’s name, having children of his...” He got lost in her shiny violet eyes and his thumb gently brushed over her lips. “Without you the heritage and throne mean nothing… without you my life no longer has a purpose dear sister. I want you by my side, forever.” The confessions of her older brother gave her the tiniest amount of hope and it’s only now that she noticed the blue green and purple spots on his lower left cheekbone. “Aegon…”. The gentle whisper of his name gave him goosebumps. She knew it was Alicent. She didn’t even have to ask. Their mother has never been caring much and definitely not enough for her and her siblings. But her brothers, especially Aegon as he’s the oldest and heir to the throne, sometimes experienced physical violence as a disciplinary punishment. “I’m sorry…” is the only thing she said before yet again clinging herself against his chest tightly. “I want to be with you too… forever.”

#aegon ii targaryen x you #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon imagine #hotd aegon #house of the dragon

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pessimisticpigeonsworld · 4 months

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Watching this video essay about Yellowjackets and somehow HOTD came up and I saw the tweet and I roll my eyes so hard

Uh. Yeah. Bc she uses the faith (basically Catholicism or Christianity) to act as this pious queen when she is paying maids to keep their mouths shut about her own son raping them.

And she didn't just hang up some four pointed stars, if I remember, she REPLACED, the targs sygils with the faith of the seven stuff.

Alicent stans just love to forget her fanaticism until they can use it to make her look more pathetic. I have to say, accusing Rhaenyra of religious fanaticism is a new to me lmao. I've only ever seen people call her a godless whore, but I'm not on X, so maybe I've been spared.

Targaryen antis don't seem to grasp just how much of the Valyrian culture the Targaryens have given up for the sake of Westeros. Calling the Valyrian wedding ceremony an "arcane marriage ritual" is not only insulting to the Valyrian culture but also completely hypocritical.

Valyrian culture was steeped in magic, they themselves have magic in their blood. Is it any surprise their marriage customs would be the same? That's like expecting the Starks' ceremonies to happen separate from the Old Gods. The Targaryens have given up their gods, most of their magic, their language, and their marriage traditions. They never forced other people to follow their traditions, they never forbade following the Faith and the Old Gods, they fucking conformed as much as possible aside from the incest, which was the only way they know to preserve the last bit of Valyria's magic.

Alicent wouldn't be seen as a religious extremist if she didn't actively repress and hate other religions. She badmouths the Valyrian traditions, not just the incest, but also their love of dragons and their art. She removes all the Valyrian and Targaryen heraldry and artifacts and replaces them with the the symbols of a religion known for being intolerant and repressive.

As I said earlier, the Valyrian culture is dying out and the Targaryens have given up so much of their mother land. Removing the last pieces of someone's culture just because you follow a different religion is fucked up. Alicent isn't even the actual ruler or a Targaryen, it's not her place to choose to abandon their Valyrian heritage while her husband is too sick to interfere.

But the real issue of Alicent's actions are her motivation. She doesn't actually care about morality and her own religion, she cares about supporting Aegon and undermining Rhaenyra. That's why she criticizes Valyrian incest then turns around and forces Helaena to marry Aegon. That's why she calls Jace and Luke savages when her own son bullies his siblings constantly and later rapes women. That's why she harps on about honor and decency while actively protecting and covering up the actions of a rapist, a murderer, and a kinslayer. That's why she removes the Valyrian heraldry while Rhaenyra is gone and replaces them with the symbols of the Faith.

She's literally the definition of the hypocritical woman for Trump. She harps on and on about morals then turns around and does reprehensible things for her own gain. She complains constantly about a culture different from hers and actively tries to remove its influence. She hates people who don't conform to her ideas.

Alicent isn't a good person, period. She's a hypocrite, constantly upholds the patriarchy, sacrifices others for the sake of her interests, and is xenophobic. The efforts to take her flaws and project them on other characters, usually Rhaenyra, by her stans is ridiculous and really shows how little they actually like her character. They like her aesthetic and the idea of a perfect suffering victim.

#anti alicent hightower #anti alicent stans #anti team green #team black #house of the dragon #anti team green stans #anti rhaenyra antis #rhaenyra targaryen

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dndfantasygirl · 17 days

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Family Matters (Prologue)

Rating: Mature Word count: 1.8k Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (named)/OC Warnings: violence, strong language, innuendo

Summary: After an argument with his eldest daughter leads to summoning a shadow from his past, Astarion must push aside his fears to protect the family he never thought he'd have.

*Link to AO3 Post

A decade ago, the mere notion of Astarion becoming a father would have incited raucous laughter from him. The very idea seemed ludicrous, an absurdity to be dismissed without a second thought. His life, after all, had been defined by shadows and deceit, devoid of any room for such domestic concepts.

However, fate has a way of weaving unexpected threads into the tapestry of one's existence. Astarion found himself thrust into an unlikely role as a parental figure, albeit under circumstances he could scarcely have imagined. The responsibility fell upon him during the year Arabella journeyed alongside them following the tumultuous events surrounding the Netherbrain. Delphie, with her protective instincts and fierce devotion to Arabella, would have surely taken his head had any harm befallen the young tiefling under his watch.

Yet, even as he fulfilled this role, Astarion remained ignorant of his own capacity for fatherhood. Being a spawn, he had assumed himself to be inherently infertile, an assumption born of his undead nature. It was a revelation that blindsided him, hitting with the force of a bolt from the blue, when Delphie unexpectedly found herself carrying their child.

Despite the persistent curse of vampirism lingering within him, Astarion eventually found a semblance of solace in the form of a ring—a small, unassuming trinket that bestowed upon him the remarkable ability to withstand the searing touch of sunlight. While it didn't eradicate his affliction entirely, it offered him a newfound freedom to bask in the daylight without fear of immolation, a luxury he had long believed to be forever beyond his reach. And though the tantalizing prospect of once again traversing running water and crossing thresholds uninvited remained an unattainable dream, he discovered an unexpected contentment in the life he now led.

His union with Delphie blossomed into a marriage not long before they parted ways with Arabella. Their love, tempered by adversity, had only grown stronger, fortified by a bond that transcended the boundaries of mortality and time. Yet, their joy was tinged with trepidation when Delphie discovered she carried their child—a miracle wrought from the interplay of vampiric heritage and a serendipitous twist of fate.

Gale's revelation regarding the transfer of fertility through blood had offered a glimpse into the intricacies of their unconventional family tree, shedding light on the origins of their impending parenthood. Astarion grappled with doubts, plagued by uncertainty over his aptitude for fatherhood, while Delphie harbored fears of reprisal from the countless enemies they had amassed over the years.

So, to ensure the safety of their offspring and as a belated wedding gift, the dragons, Wyll, Gale, and Shadowheart all came together to build a comfortable home inside the secluded Dragon Cove. It would be a safe environment for the children to grow up in. Of course, the children would frequently take the portal with them to go to Baldur's Gate when errands needed to be run, but they would never leave their side. The only exception would be if they were put in the care of Delphie's step-siblings or Shadowheart.

Delphie's determination to find a cure for Astarion's vampirism remained steadfast, an unwavering beacon of hope that burned bright even amidst the joys and responsibilities of parenthood. Though their family had expanded to include two precious daughters, her quest for a remedy persisted, fueled by a love that knew no bounds and a fervent desire to see her husband freed from the shackles of his cursed existence.

Yet, as the demands of parenthood grew, they found themselves facing a dilemma—the dragons were ill-equipped to care for two young elven girls for extended periods of time when they received a new lead for a cure. It was then that Shadowheart emerged as a beacon of support and solace.

Despite her aloof exterior, Shadowheart harbored a hidden reservoir of warmth and affection, particularly when it came to the two young girls who had captured her heart. In them, she saw echoes of innocence and resilience, qualities she had long thought lost amidst the trials and tribulations of her own tumultuous journey. As she watched over them, a fierce sense of protectiveness welled within her, driving her to become not only their guardian but their confidante and mentor as well.

In a gesture of profound significance, Shadowheart assumed the mantle of godmother to their daughters—a role she embraced with unwavering dedication and tenderness. From storytelling beneath starlit skies to imparting lessons of wisdom and courage, she showered the girls with a love that transcended the boundaries of blood and kinship.

They were celebrating their firstborn, Scarlette's ninth birthday at the House of Hope, a midpoint thanks to Hope that allowed Karlach to see her nieces every few months.

Leta, as they affectionately called her, bore a striking resemblance to her mother, a reflection of Delphie's grace and beauty manifested in the form of big, verdant eyes that sparkled with mischief and a delicate button nose that bespoke of innocence and wonder. Yet, amidst the familiar contours of her mother's visage, there lay a subtle reminder of her unique heritage—a line of faint golden scales adorning the curve of each cheek, a legacy of ancient lineage and untold secrets.

From an early age, Leta had displayed an affinity for the arcane arts—a gift inherited from her mother that bloomed with each passing day, unleashing torrents of raw magic whenever her emotions soared to dizzying heights. Though her burgeoning powers often led to chaos and mischief, there was an undeniable beauty in the way she danced amidst the currents of magic, a testament to the untamed potential that lay dormant within her soul.

Yet, despite the undeniable bond forged by blood and love, Astarion couldn't shake the lingering sense of distance that seemed to grow between them with each passing year. Their interactions were marked by heated debates and clashes of will, a testament to their stubborn natures and the tumultuous currents that surged between them. And yet, amidst the tumult, there remained an unbreakable bond—a father's love that transcended the petty squabbles and misunderstandings of mortal existence.

The first time Astarion cradled Leta in his arms, a swell of emotion washed over him—a tidal wave of love and tenderness that threatened to overwhelm his hardened heart. In that fleeting moment, as he gazed into her wide, innocent eyes, he glimpsed the boundless potential of a life yet to unfold—a future brimming with promise and possibility, guided by the unwavering love of a father who would move mountains to see her smile.

As the years swept by, Astarion and Delphie's family expanded once more with the arrival of their second daughter, Lilliana, affectionately known as Lily. Unlike her elder sister, Leta, whose features bore a striking resemblance to their mother, Lily's appearance echoed that of her father in unmistakable ways.

Pale as moonlight, Lily's complexion carried the ethereal pallor of her vampiric heritage. Yet, it was in her eyes that Astarion's legacy shone most brilliantly—crimson orbs that glimmered with an intensity that mirrored the flames of a dying sunset. And then there were the fangs—protruding from her delicate lips with a subtle prominence that set her apart from her sister. While Leta too possessed the telltale signs of vampiric lineage, Lily's were more pronounced.

Yet, despite her father's influence, Lilliana possessed her own unique charm—a mischievous twinkle in her eye and a smile that could light up the darkest of nights. Unlike her sister, who often found solace in the depths of her mother's embrace, Lily gravitated towards Astarion.

In Lily, Astarion saw echoes of his own past—a reminder of the life he had left behind, of the darkness and the shadows that had once consumed him. And yet, in her laughter and her boundless curiosity, he found a glimmer of hope—a beacon of light that illuminated the path towards redemption and forgiveness.

Though he loved both of his daughters with a fierceness that knew no bounds, there was something about Lily—the way she clung to his side, the way her laughter danced upon the air—that tugged at his heartstrings in a way that was uniquely her own. She was his babe, his little vampiric sprite.

Astarion couldn't help but chuckle at Delphie's frantic concern over Lily's penchant for nibbling on anything and everything once she turned four. No matter how many times he reassured her that it was merely a natural phase of their daughter's vampiric development, she couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at her heart.

As the years passed, the bond between Leta and Lily only grew stronger, evolving into a steadfast companionship that transcended the confines of mere siblinghood. They shared everything—from their dreams to their deepest fears and secrets. Together, they laughed and played, their laughter echoing off the walls of the Dragon Cove like a sweet melody.

Even in their moments of disagreement and petty squabbles, there was an undeniable closeness that bound them together. They slept curled up together, their bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs and whispers, finding solace and comfort in the presence of each other's warmth.

Inseparable in every sense of the word, Leta and Lily navigated the twists and turns of life's journey hand in hand, their laughter and tears intertwined like the threads of a tapestry.

As Astarion reclined in the comfort of the regal armchair, his gaze softened with affection as he observed his daughters, Leta and Lily, frolicking together in the foyer of the House of Hope. Their laughter filled the air like the tinkling of bells, a symphony of joy that resonated deep within his soul. Despite the passage of time and the trials they had faced, moments like these served as a poignant reminder of the precious gift of family—a gift he had once believed to be forever beyond his reach.

The warmth of Delphie's hand on his shoulder and the gentle press of her lips against his cheek stirred a surge of gratitude within him—a silent acknowledgment of the love and support that had sustained him through the darkest of days.

And so, as he sat amidst the splendor of the House of Hope, surrounded by the laughter and love of his family, Astarion couldn't help but marvel at the twists and turns of fate that had led him to this moment. So, yes. If someone had dared to suggest to him a decade ago that he would one day be a father, he would have dismissed it as the fanciful ramblings of a madman. And yet, here he was, basking in the warmth of his daughters' smiles and the tender embrace of his beloved wife—a testament to the unpredictable nature of life's journey and the transformative power of love to defy even the most improbable of odds.

#astarion x tav #astarion #astarion and tav #astarion angst #astarion fanfic #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav #astarion x oc #astarion x tav fluff #kid fic #dadstarion #dhampir

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howyouloveyourdragon · 1 year

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What about yandere Daemon joining yandere Rhaenyra in being obsessed with half-sister!reader?

Would they marry her? (Aegon I had 2 wives)

oh 100%, i've written headcanons for this but let me know if you would like a fic once asks are reopened (probably sometime next week) because 👀

i've written this in the direction of this being similar to a sequel to my other Rhaenyra x half-sister asks

i don't think he would be attracted to her initially because he sees her plainly as Alicent's offspring and we all know how he feels about Alicent but he would still respect that Rhaenyra cares for you

i think Daemon x Rhaenyra's half-sister would be very much slow burn

he'll ignore you about the castle once Rhaenyra has you in her grasp but one day he's in the library and spots you reaching up to take down a book on Valyrian history. He frowns and studies the spine before regrettably deciding to approach

it is not often that he lets his desires go unheard of so he asks what you're reading so that he can be sure and when you answer he feels the slightest of intrigue nestle in his gut

he offers to teach you of his conquest of the stepstones and the second your eyes sparkle in interest he's fallen

it becomes a habit to join you in the library while Rhaenyra is off during her duties and even more of a habit to tease you greatly though if anyone so much as attempts to do so themselves, his sword is pressed to their neck quicker than they can draw next breath

he does not wish for you to see him in his violent tendencies but he does want you to see him protecting you and your honour

Rhaenyra will point blank refuse to draw bloodshed before you but Daemon enjoys a making a slow show of whomever disrespects you

Rhaenyra cannot lie and say that it doesn't bring a fond smile to her face when she sees you together in this newfound friendship but it does surprise her when friendship turns into desire before her very eyes.

She doesn't however remember when the feelings changed and neither can he

his eyes stared down at you one evening as you talked excitedly with Baela and Rhaena and suddenly he was imagining you caring for them as you do Jace, Luke and Joffrey, a twitch to his lip and he's down bad

the same night it happens he corners Rhaenyra in the hall but is shocked when she confronts him

Daemon will not deny it, he is a proud man and insist on discussion, pleasantly surprised when Rhaenyra offers a compromise between your affections – they share you

i think Rhaenyra would agree very enthusiastically to another Valyrian wedding ceremony, the more attention and protection her darling garners the better though you may be quite hesitant at first

despite it all Alicent is still your loving mother and you care for her and you know she is not fond of Daemon

too many changes at once might startle you

he would ease you into the idea but visiting you to the point of smothering and partaking his entertainment in your chambers

he won't have sex with you until you ask it of him but he will leave hints, he might dangle your desires in front of you before snatching them away with a promise of giving it to you tenfold in return for your hand in marriage

regardless, you will find yourself with two spouses and soon he refuses to leave your bed, complaining of his clingy arms

i think there might be some conflict between Rhaenyra and Daemon's methods of keeping you safe, while Rhaenyra will want to shelter you and especially during the war, Daemon will want you to see the pain your family is inflicting on your spouses

he is a lot more possessive than his other wife and impulsive too

he will act as though he is nonethewiser of your heritage in your presence but when Alicent or your siblings are present he will put on a show and keep you wrapped up in his arms with a smug grin

the blood of those who insult you have become a staple in his clothing, he will don it proudly

gift giving will be one method he uses to garner your attention though anything he gives you will have something distinctly Daemon about it, he needs you to think about him as much as he thinks about you

i think he would be very glad to gift you jewellery above other things because he will see it as staking his claim when you wear it

he won't hurt you but if the time comes for arguments he might be quite violent in throwing possessions

when it comes to bedchambers i think he would demand you all share whereas Rhaenyra would ask if you would prefer the privacy of separate (if you did take this offer it would hurt her dearly but she does not wish for you to feel trapped despite her displeasure when you are not within her sight)

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pray4saint · 10 months

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could we get some hcs of what it was like planning your wedding and the actual wedding day for dteam? i think that’d be cute !! :))

dteam wedding planning hcs

masterlist & descrip. pg-13. 13+. gn!reader. bridezilla!dream energy.

a/n. yes ofc :)) this was a really cute idea

dream

probably has his own version of bridezilla going on: he's yelling at the planner, angry at how the venue looks, upset with the catering menu and how the invitations turned out despite how perfect they are

”clay, honey.” you turn his face to you and all the frustration is gone when he looks at you. ”hm?” ”the invitations are perfect,” you press a kiss to his cheek as you rub circles into his back, ”i promise.” he nods to you. ”everything's gonna be alright, okay?” again he nods and you kiss him, bringing a smile to both his lips and yours.

when you get into a bridezilla type frenzy he is absolutely not useful and you're both yelling at each other and if any outsider saw you two yelling they'd assume your marriage wouldn't last long

his mom is the one who gets the both of you to calm down, reminding you both that the wedding is only a public display of your commitment, and that all that really matters is how the two of you feel about getting married on the inside

clay who kisses your ring finger, just above your engagement ring every morning when you wake up and every night just before you let your exhausted rule your body and you fall asleep / and kisses your ring finger just after he's put your wedding band on it

wanted a colour scheme of white, green and a colour you thought would go with it

also definitely the type to refuse money from both of your families, claiming that he wants to show them how he can provide for you and you two will be fine without financial help from anyone even though it's really not that deep

when you get into a bridezilla type frenzy he is absolutely not useful and you're both yelling at each other and if any outsider saw you two yelling they'd assume your marriage wouldn't last long

wanted a colour scheme of white, green and a colour you thought would go with it

sapnap

absolutely believes in wedding superstitions: getting married on a wednesday, wearing a 'something borrowed' from people who've had long marriages, etc

and in honour of his greek heritage, he talked you into keep a sugar cube each somewhere on your person (it's said the cubes of sugar will sweeten your union)

aside from traditions and superstitions, he's very open to anything you want for the wedding

”baby are you sure there isn't anything you'd rather have?” you ask, eyes scrolling over the same venue and catering list again. he keeps an arm around your waist, smiling at your concentration. ”a hundred percent. whatever you want.”

one night after a couple of glasses of wine, you decided you two would be a little different and put your families on the wrong sides of the venue, his family behind you and your family behind him

very split menu, quarter greek food, quarter food of your choosing (or your favourites in your culture), and the rest of picked for you by the caterer

definitely has looked at both your first name with his last name and his first name with your last name in different fonts and handwriting styles

george

probably doesn't have any initial requests and only asks for little things as they come up during planning, like centrepieces for the reception that he knew his mom would like or the seating chart, again for the reception so he could move two people he knew would fight away from each other

also reminds you of little things while you're talking to all the professionals, like that a certain friend can't have garlic so the garlic bread is off the menu or another friend can't have meat so fish and salads have to be on the menu

lets you pick whatever colours you want, even if he couldn't see them (although let's be honest the main accent colour was blue)

always lets you talk to the professionals and even if it's his card being swiped, has you confirm all the details and prices

”darling, does this look right?” your eyes scan over the digital receipt and you immediately catch the error. ”no, there's a few too many centrepieces.” you point to the number and tap to bring it back down. he looks at you with such admiration while you do the simple task and it makes your cheeks heat up. ”george, what's wrong?” ”nothin', just admiring my spouse-to-be.” he smiles at you, putting an arm around your waist.

his only real request is to have a small registry, because he likes his things and he likes your things and doesn't want to replace anything just because a guest bought it for you

also he worked out playlists for every event leading up to the wedding and on the wedding day based solely on songs you told him you loves + like two songs he likes on each playlist

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aragarna · 3 months

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Zorro Vive

And vive bien!

So, I've finished Season 1 of the new Zorro show (available through Amazon in the US and most Spanish and Portuguese-speaking countries), and I really enjoyed it!

Without spoilers, I'd say that its main qualities are that it's fun and earnest and more cosmopolite in its retailing of the old story. It doesn't take itself too seriously, there's plenty of little homages to previous adaptations. There's many interesting and well-developed characters - of all genders and ethnicities.

It's (literally) colorful, with a comic/pulp feel that suits it well. There's been a true care brought to the action scenes, and OMG the night scenes are damn well lit. It's rare enough nowadays so points for that. Generally, the show is quite beautiful.

More spoilery thoughts under the cut.

I honestly wasn't sure what to expect from a new show. It's always hard to bring new canon to something so established and so iconic. And even though the Disney show is *not* the original canon, for a lot of people, it is.

But as a principle, same as for book adaptations or remakes, I'm not opposed to variations or changes. As long as they're good changes.

And I have to say, the vast majority of the changes in the new Zorro show, to me, were actually good changes, or necessary improvements for today's audience.

The most obvious is giving back a real voice to the Natives and not sugarcoating the colonization aspect. There's tension there. Natives are angry. But as years passed, people born there consider themselves "true Californians". Natives aren't just background characters or peons anymore. They're a driving plot force. They're shown in their own environment, with their own rites (I don't know enough about Natives of this area to know how accurate it is, but it felt a lot more authentic and respectful to me than other versions).

I do like the idea that the Zorro character comes from the Native culture, and that it's been passed on from one person to the next. Though it also brings my one big issue with the show: Diego becoming Zorro reads a lot like "a white dude steals a Native heritage." And yes, it's symbolic, and yes the fox spirit chose him, Diego didn't pick him, but still. Given that the audience is meant to support Diego (who really is a sweet guy!), that the narrative keeps showing us that Nah-Lin is wrong and should accept it, given the colonization context of that story, it's sitting a bit wrong with me.

This aside, I do like the exploration of revenge vs. justice, violence vs. a more measured response, in the face of adversity. When a few months back, the tagline "revenge is personal, justice is for all" appeared on the first poster, I wasn't sure what to think. I don't like revenge-driven characters. It's cliché and wrong. But the fact that the show precisely explored that, both with Diego and Nah-Lin, was actually quite interesting.

Diego, as I said, is a decent guy. A sweet boy really, vaguely immature originally but having to mature really fast, as the death of his father, the business of the rancho, the Zorro thing and Lolita's wedding are all dropping on him at once. Miguel Bernardeau is a clear departure from most of the previous Zorros, who were played by older actors, giving a more "adult" vibe to the character, but given he's supposed to be fresh out of college and out of his element, Bernardeau's more juvenile features fit the character well.

Nah-Lin is a lot angrier, and while in the context of the story, she's shown to be going at it the wrong way, all that anger *is* justified, and not something that can just be brushed off. Peace can't come easy when you anger people that way.

And you know who else I really liked? That damn Capitan Monasterio! Who would have thought LOL No, but seriously. Not sure why they named him that way. He was actually more of a Sergeant Garcia (or Mendoza from the 1990 show) than a Monastario. Obviously without the comic relief and cutely incompetent side of the character, but as the character who is a decent guy stuck between a rock and a hard place, serving a tyrannic boss and chasing a heroic outlaw that he may not hate that much.

I also really liked what they did with Lolita. An opinionated young lady that throws away all the corseting conventions of her time is always very relatable to me. Also, I just love her fashion sense. I wasn't sure what they were going to do with that impossible love triangle (I thought for a long time the wedding wouldn't actually happen). I wouldn't have thought they'd have Lolita figure it out, but I'm glad she did.

I'm glad they kept Bernardo, the mute confident. And I love Mei, too. The dynamic between the three of them (with Diego) is great!

Also, it's great to finally have a Spanish-speaking production, and have the characters speaking in Spanish, instead of having American actors put on fake accents.

I may have a couple of minor complains: namely that I didn't care about Samael nor Alejandro's first love. Not sure planting so early something that they're keeping for S2 is a right move. Feels like a waste of screentime. Also, I'm not particularly found of secret societies trying to rule the world, but it seems to be mandatory to any Zorro story... And the finale episode didn't actually wrap up that many plotlines - every major villain escaped! So that kinda made it look like Zorro didn't accomplish much, apart from breaking Lolita's heart, and his. But none of this prevented me from having a good time watching the show. I just really hope there'll be a S2 cause it'd be a shame to leave things there!

How about you guys? What did you think of it?

#zorro #zorro 2024 #amazon zorro #secuoya zorro #review #meta #rambles #zorro vive #my gifs #i've tried to keep it at a reasonable number #and not to ramble too much #but i'd love to chat more about the show!#okay #throwing this into the ocean before i start overthinking it

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blackhairedjjun · 1 year

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flowers of every color | 8. sweet peas

overall summary: when your father is assigned as the new head gardener to the royal family, you are also tasked with helping him maintain the castle's many gardens and extensive floral arrangements. by chance you find yourself crossing paths with the "ice-cold" crown prince, choi yeonjun... who turns out to be not as ice-cold as everyone says he is.

chapter summary: yeonjun's engagement starts to speed up. despite the end of your friendship with him, you somehow make amends with the other two princes.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: none? less angst than the previous 2 chapters but still some of it

author's notes included at the end!

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yeonjun hates how easy it is for him to act indifferent these days.

his tea has gone cold and queen hwayoung is blabbering away about some recent economic development in her kingdom, yet her words simply go in one ear and come out the other. her daughter, princess ajin, sits stiffly across him, the lemon tart on her plate barely touched. she’s hardly said a word all afternoon, offering only a few polite words when spoken to, and when she looks at yeonjun her face is a mask. these teatime sessions are supposed to be a way for him to get to know her, yet she remains as impenetrable as ever.

in response he offers little more than standard courtesy. if the princess is only interested in him as a political tool, then why even bother to open himself up to her?

“what do you think of the tarts, your majesty?” he says. “our kitchen makes fine pastries.”

“they’re delicious.” princess ajin’s voice doesn’t even change in tone.

queen hwayoung nods. “and what say you on the tea we brought? our farmers grow the finest tea leaves served in royal courts and noble houses all over. i like to think that whenever we serve our tea to distinguished guests such as yourself, you share in the privilege of being part of our heritage.”

“that’s... a lot of meaning to place on tea.”

the queen frowns. “it’s a meaning that brings us might. besides, it’s not any different from placing silly meanings in, say, flowers.”

yeonjun presses his lips together. he would argue that it isn’t silly, and in fact the meanings that placed on flowers have brought people together 一 he would know firsthand. but he thinks of you, of the vase sitting empty in his room for weeks, and of the striped carnations you ultimately filled it with as a final message, and he realizes that flowers are just as capable of separating people as they are of binding them.

“i guess you’re right, your majesty. and the tea is delicious.”

“and this was a good tea break,” princess ajin adds, as if reading from an invisible cue.

yeonjun nods. he glances at the half-eaten tart on his own plate and remembers the key lime pie he asked beomgyu to deliver to you. he realizes that he never found out if you liked it, or if it even reached you in the first place. tea with you was always more lively, even if you did nothing more than sit next to him, your side nestled against his, as you listen to him chatter about his day. an ache tugs at his heart at the memory.

perhaps those days with you were always meant to come to an end. they certainly would if he marries princess ajin, and they would too if he were married off to any other royal or aristocratic figure. perhaps you did him a small mercy by ending things quickly on your terms to save him from the heartache of being forced apart.

but even if it were a mercy, it certainly doesn’t feel like one.

queen hwayoung clears her throat and yeonjun is shaken out of his thoughts. “things are going smoothly, aren’t they? i haven’t heard any objections from you or my daughter, after all.” she is smiling but her eyes are narrowed. “i take this as a positive development. perhaps it is time to hasten preparations for a wedding?”

yeonjun’s eyes widen. he glances at princess ajin and her expression remains exactly the same.

“i don’t think being hasty is such a good idea, your majesty一”

the queen sighs. “i am not being too hasty, i believe. i am simply reading the signs of an advantageous marriage.” she glances down at her daughter. “don’t you think so, my dear?”

the princess nods and smiles. yeonjun can’t tell if it’s genuine or not.

“and your majesty, do remind me to place the rest of the house of choi on the guest list, yes? i hear that their delegates are leaving soon. i do not want them to miss out on a momentous occasion.”

一

while tending to the marigolds at the front entrance one day, you notice two carts parked to the side partially filled with suitcases. at first you don’t think much of it 一 guests come and go to the castle all the time 一 but when you pass them by on your way to the greenhouse, you notice that some of the suitcases in both carts are embossed with the house of choi insignia. your interest is piqued. when you walk up to the suitcases for a closer look, you see that the crests are not identical to the ones found around the castle; rather, they look like the alternate versions that soobin and beomgyu have on their coats.

ah, you realize. the members of the other branches are heading back home soon.

for the past few days you’ve felt numb, keeping to yourself and sticking to your daily tasks, but the sight of the crests causes a bit of sadness to hang over you. for the first time in weeks you think back on your time with the three princes. in your mind you still hear beomgyu’s raucuous laughter after scoring a point against soobin at football, or the light in soobin’s eyes as he rambles about his favorite adventure novels. you remember how kindly they treated you and how readily they welcomed you as one of their own friends.

you didn’t mean to push them away, but since they were always around yeonjun, the end of your friendship with him inadvertently meant the end of your friendship with them too. the guilt creeps at you as you head back to the greenhouse, your heart now heavy.

as the days pass, you see more and more signs of the other branches’ impending departure. you deliver some more herbs to the kitchen and spot the menu taped to one of the walls, recognizing some of the dishes as specialties from the central and eastern regions. you see more and more of the branches’ guest advisors roaming the hallways, idly chatting and laughing with court officials, catching up with old friends one last time. when you pass by the carriages again, you see even more luggage piled up.

you consider saying hello to soobin and beomgyu one last time and apologizing them for getting them into the mess that you made. you don’t want their last memories of you to be bittersweet, after all. yet when you imagine what the encounter might be like, you freeze; you don’t know if they will forgive you or accept your farewell. in the greenhouse you contemplate preparing two pots of sweet peas for them, flowers of goodbye to send them off and wish them well, and you get as far as setting aside two earthen pots and filling them with soil. but when the time comes to actually fill them with blooms, you hesitate.

despite your hesitation, you run into them anyway.

one afternoon, as you head back to the greenhouse, you pass by the open meadows and hear the familiar shouts of a badminton game in progress. you stop in your tracks to watch beomgyu pick up the shuttlecock and lob it at soobin, and for a while you smile to yourself as they hit it back and forth, back and forth, running and teasing each other the whole time. beomgyu tries his best to distract or startle soobin by making loud noises whenever the shuttlecock flies his way, yet soobin manages to keep his focus... until he misjudges his swing and the shuttlecock ends up bouncing off his nose.

you laugh at the sight and the game comes to a halt.

the shuttlecock is forgotten on the grass as both boys turn to you. soobin looks at you with narrowed eyes, as if watching a suspicious stranger instead of an old friend, and you want to crumple into yourself at his gaze. you remember the conversation you had with him: it’s been a really long time since yeonjun opened himself up to someone and it’s doing him good, so thanks for being there for him.

you turn instead to beomgyu, whose gaze is more neutral but tinged with hesitation. still, the younger choi trudges through the meadow towards you, ignoring soobin’s look of scrutiny. he wrings his hands for a bit while saying nothing, but manages to pull himself together and look you in the eye.

“so, uh... we haven’t heard from you in a while,” he says.

again you feel like crumpling into yourself.

“yeah... i know.” you shift your weight from one foot to the other. “i’m really sor一”

“do you want to play with us?”

you blink. the last thing you expected was an invitation to join them, not after avoiding them and especially not after what you did to yeonjun. soobin seems to share your sentiment, his mouth agape as he shoots beomgyu a confused stare. but beomgyu glances back at him and nods, instantly communicating something; when soobin turns back to you, he looks a little less suspicious and gives you a nod too.

beomgyu turns to you again with a polite smile. “so, how about it?”

then it clicks in your head: this is a tentative truce. they want to test the waters with you, see if you can be trusted again, but first beomgyu needs everyone to calm down and put down their walls. when you realize this you stop shifting your weight as the energy in you changes. you’re being given a second chance, and you need to seize it.

“sure, i’ll join you,” you say.

you jog over to them and beomgyu hands you a spare racquet. soobin sits the game out 一 you can tell that he still feels uneasy about you, and you don’t blame him. you take your position as beomgyu picks up the shuttlecock and prepares to serve.

the game begins.

the first few points are short and uneventful, going back and forth between you and beomgyu without flair. but at 3-3, you somehow end up in a long rally — you try to smash, he nearly dives to send it back, you scramble to hit, he screams as he miraculously picks it up, you try to smash again, he screams even louder and lobs the shot, you send it back just in time, but it’s too high and he smashes it down on your side with an almighty yell.

“HAH! I’M WINNING!” he shouts as he waves his racquet above his head like a flag. you’re out of breath from the rally but you still find it in you to cheer.

even soobin is laughing and clapping. “you finally have a worthy opponent.”

“yeah! i never have long rallies with you, hyung!”

the rest of the game is just as exciting. you and beomgyu struggle for each point, chasing after the shuttlecock and screaming with each hit, and soobin gets on his feet to serve as referee. that turns out to be a good thing, because beomgyu starts to challenge all of your clean smashes as out of bounds just to mess with your head. but you don’t mind either way; you’re breathless and smiling and truly happy and it feels like old times all over again.

the two of you are in the middle of another long rally before beomgyu interrupts the point. “hyung! do you want to join us? yeonjun hyung!”

you turn around and see yeonjun for the first time since your argument. you’re far enough from him that you can see his whole posture and the way his shoulders are noticeably slumped. whatever lightness you felt starts to disappear as your chest tightens and the guilt floods back in.

but oh, something good still blooms in you at the sight of him.

he turns in your direction with an empty stare. “i can’t. i’m busy.”

with that, he marches off.

you open your mouth to call for him but all you do is choke back a sob. your racquet falls from your hand and, in a daze, you stare at the spot where yeonjun stood. you barely register beomgyu jogging over to you and talking.

“let’s stop the game for now, okay?”

you nod, not even moving to face him.

“i’ll go after hyung,” you hear soobin say as he starts to walk out of the meadow. he glances at beomgyu, then at you: “you really need to work things out.”

notes:

this chapter is a bit shorter than the previous ones, and actually this + chapter 9 were originally supposed to be one chapter. but since the second half was getting long i decided to make it into its own chapter instead.

at this point i've pretty much drafted the rest of the story, so the plan for the rest of the fic is this: there will be two more regular chapters, followed by the two alternate endings. since the story is ending soon i'm closing the taglist on wednesday, may 31, 12am utc+8. if you want to be added please send me an ask before then!

taglist (closes may 31 12am utc+8) @seosalad @lilplilplilp @yeonboy @pyuae @hyuneyeon @strawbrinkofdeath @yushiu @mazeinthemoon @banggyu0308 @shytubatu @kyaneosprincess @agustdiv1ne @whippedforbeomgyu @justineasian @skywithf1 @wrongbathroom

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt angst #txt fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun fluff #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #bhj originals #fic:flowers of every color

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