#Perdita Writes

[paradisoperdita]

When Barbatos Knew He Loved You

A/N: This is the final part of this series! Thank you to everyone who has patiently waited for this final chapter, to every reader for whom this will be the last fic they read as they complete the series, and those who chose to only read this chapter simply because it's Barbatos. There are so many incredibly talented writers who specialise in writing about the butler, so I can only hope my interpretation is worthy of comparison.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2500

MC/Reader is gender neutral. You/They pronouns

Warnings: Spoilers for lesson 79. If you've read it, you'll know. For those that haven't, I hope it reads like an intriguing, if somewhat confusing, metaphor.

When He Knew He Loved You Masterlist

If a lifetime could fit into a grain of sand, then Barbatos’s life would be a beach.

Innumerable lifetimes congregated under a single name filling the vast expanse along the horizon. Each lifetime had started as a pebble, which chipped and cracked as Barbatos moved between realities to sculpt and shape his ideal existence. There was a time when he selfishly sought to satiate his greed; one lifetime hadn’t been enough to experience, own, be everything he longed for. The discarded fragments of his life crunched under his feet. The grains of sand he once called his memories were washed away by the waves of time.

Barbatos needed a change.

It was easy to obscure the truths of his origin. He had no great desire to divulge the details of his former lives. After all, he had a new purpose now: serving the Demon Prince. It was almost ironic for a demon so fuelled by greed to perform the role of butler; yet it was a role Barbatos performed dutifully. Lord Diavolo was the pinnacle of selfless devotion and he taught Barbatos the true value of serving others. Lord Diavolo’s hopes became Barbatos’s hopes. Lord Diavolo’s ideals became Barbatos’s ideals. Whatever the young prince wanted, Barbatos wanted too.

Why would the perfect butler ever desire for anything more?

This was the most important day of Barbatos’s career. It had to be perfect. Every inch of the RAD Student Council Chamber had been thrice cleaned and inspected, the windows gleamed in the flickering gilded glow, each student meticulously coached in Human World etiquette, and the grand table had been so thoroughly polished that Barbatos could amend a stray hair in its reflective surface. He couldn’t allow himself to feel nervous. There were too many unknown elements at play.

In accordance to his oath to Lord Diavolo, Barbatos refrained from using his powers of clairvoyance to prepare for today. Many beings, especially mortals, long for a life of certainties. As one who has the power to know every infinite possibility as though he has lived it, Barbatos can testify that there is no greater boredom than omniscience.

The sigil Solomon had drawn on the ground began to crackle with blinding ferocity. Lord Diavolo grinned and the four Avatars of Sin perfected their postures. The second human exchange student was about to arrive.

That was Barbatos’s cue to leave.

Despite the months of preparation, there was still much to be done around RAD to ensure the exchange students’ smooth transition from their previous lives to their new life in the Devildom. Barbatos wouldn’t have to wait too long before he had the opportunity to introduce himself to you. He had heard many rumours about your recent pact with the second-born Avatar of Greed. Your reputation preceded you, and he pondered whether there were more secrets hidden behind your façade that he had yet to uncover during his initial assessment of your suitability for this exchange program.

You looked remarkably similar to all the photographs he had seen of you. Although, he must confess that the photos captured you in a far more flattering light than you appeared in your present circumstances. There was something marvellously human about you and, despite how long it had been since Barbatos had been in the company of a true human, he could detect the myriad of emotions that flickered across your features: confusion, bewilderment, fascination, fear…distrust? Hm…yes. Distrust would serve you well among demons and its presence reassured him. Yet there was nothing remarkable about that soul of yours. It paled in comparison to the two angels beside him. No, he supposed the basis of the comparison was unfair; angels are beings of light with souls that burn as brightly. Your soul had not the benefit of time to grow stronger and had been tempered by the dark nights of human existence. Even a candle can be blinding if lit in pitch darkness.

At least you weren’t at a disadvantage by possessing a soul that the denizens of RAD would find impossible to resist.

It hadn’t been easy for you. Nobody could deny that it would be difficult to live among the seven Avatars of Sin, even if they had sworn to Lord Diavolo to protect you. However, against all odds, you appeared to settle into your new role as exchange student and pact master. The pacts weren’t a mandatory component of your RAD assignment, but Lord Diavolo appeared pleased by this unexpected development. And if Lord Diavolo was pleased, then Barbatos was as well.

Barbatos had predicted that he would need to intervene more often than he had presently been called to do. In fact, there was rarely cause for him to meet with you at all. You were well-liked among the demons you lived with. Not even Solomon was as universally popular as you appeared to be. It was Barbatos’s duty to monitor your safety, regardless of Mammon’s official role as your guardian, and it was a duty that fascinated him.

He spent many an hour watching your figure traverse the grand expanse of RAD’s grounds. You were unaware of the change in the demons that you passed; their alteration from predator to peer, from a threat to a friend, and it appeared ever clearer to Barbatos over the course of his observations. You were merely human. You were no great sorcerer, no fallen angel, and no gifted scholar (your grades were sufficient proof of that). Just human.

Where then did you find this inner strength? How did that fragile soul of yours refine itself, pearl-like, in the face of such adversity? If he couldn’t find the answer by observing you, and he couldn’t find it by peering into your future, then perhaps the answers resided in your past?

The library at RAD had many documents regarding the lives of humans. It was a necessary skill to know the inner workings of humanity if one was to be successful at charming them into relinquishing their soul. It proved more than sufficient for the task Barbatos had endeavoured upon. Unlike demons, whose personal histories can extend across millennia, a human’s history must be parsed from the lives of ancestors and relations. An imperfect system, in his opinion, but it was the only method he had at his disposal. His fingers delicately traced the thin lines of your ancestry, spanning the shifts in human thought, morals, and innovation. One thread after another unfurled from one ancestor and weaved itself into the very fabric of you.

Perhaps that distant uncle who joined the circus bestowed you with your wicked sense of humour? Or that nurse on your father’s side gave you the gift of kindness? Or the cousin, who had been sent to the gallows, had been the source of your roguish charms? These past lives captivated him.

“What are you reading, Barbatos?” You asked as you subtly tried to peek over his shoulder.

Barbatos concealed his surprise. He had already sensed your presence; he simply hadn’t realised that it was also in person as well as featuring so prominently in his thoughts.

“Just a little research project,” Barbatos answered curtly. You took the seat beside him, even though he hadn’t invited you to join him.

“Anything interesting?” You weren’t even trying to pretend not to read the book in front of him.

Barbatos sighed with a smile. “I find it most interesting,” his grin sharpened, “it’s a book containing records about your family’s history. I had already conducted a preliminary inquiry prior to your arrival. Yet in light of recent events, I thought it prudent to continue my investigation.”

Now he had piqued your curiosity. In response to your countless questions, Barbatos marked out the various patterns and connections in the tapestry of your family history. He enjoyed watching your various reactions to the narrative he weaved for you. In the midst of the countless lives that had been the precursor to your existence, you were somehow untouched by it all. It brought him no closer to truly understanding you. Even as you leaned gently against his arm, and he felt the tender pressure of your body against his, the distance between you seemed insurmountable. There was no book that Barbatos could read to learn the secret of your soul. No tangible thing that he could obtain to know you better. Only your time would grant him that, so it was your time that he desired to have.

Barbatos continued his private investigation of your family tree and would use his discoveries as a means to speak with you. As his search took him further back in time away from you, your conversations about these spectres of ancient history brought the two of you closer together. The day he reached the seed of your family tree, the very beginning of you, had been a troubling revelation. Would you still seek Barbatos’s company if he had nothing more to share?

He didn’t know then that the knowledge of your beginning would be the only way to save your life.

Love is manipulated dependence.

That had been his firm belief in his earlier lives. His time with the young prince taught him how to care for another. Lord Diavolo taught him how to disregard pride and greed to serve and place another’s needs above one’s own. Barbatos was devoted to Lord Diavolo. It was a selfless devotion, a purposeful devotion, and a devotion that begins and ends with his servitude. Barbatos can pinpoint the exact moment his devotion began.

For you, however, he cannot determine when those feelings began.

Indeed, when did he begin to watch your form to inscribe it to memory? When did he start to note the subtle fluctuations in your mood so he could be the demon you relied on for support? When did your beautiful pearl of a soul begin to outshine the glassy sands of his existence? When, when, when…? It seemed a cruel joke for the Demon of Times to forget such a significant change in his feelings for you.

And yet, his every memory of you was now tinged in the rosy glow of his affection. Even though logically he knows he did not love you at first glance, he cannot help but think back on that time and feel nothing but love for you.

Did he love you?

He tested the taste of the word on his tongue. It had lost all its former bitterness and was superseded by your image. How curious it was to be consumed by a feeling that transcends past, present, and future. He loved the very essence of your being. Perhaps it was accurate to say that he had always loved you? To live in chronological time was still a new experience for him and your existence compelled him to continue along its journey with you.

You are his greatest love.

You taught him how to truly want, to feel, and to desire.

Barbatos was a demon of many secrets. Out of the infinite secrets he kept, the enormity of his feelings for you was the secret he guarded most ardently. He suspected you knew a little about his fondness for you. You were thoughtful and continued to reach out to him over the three years he had known you. Each interaction with you renewed that blossoming affection that had taken root in his heart.

Even now, the depth of his love for you seemed unfathomable, even to himself. It granted him the strength to conceal the excruciating pain that threatened to shatter his skull from the inside out. He hid it from you for fear of worrying you when you were already working at your limits. He couldn’t worry you, your mission was far too important to risk your concern for him jeopardising its success. As the winds picked up and howled in his ears, threatening to destroy the very ground on which he stood, his eyes had not left your figure; fear contorted your features. Barbatos barely had the power to remain on his own two feet. His knees gave way under the indomitable will of the impossible storm. You were scared for him.

You grabbed Barbatos, wrapped your arms securely around his shoulders and held him close to your chest.

You saved him.

You were no longer just a human to Barbatos. It was impossible for you to be ‘just’ anything to him anymore. There weren’t adequate words to sufficiently express exactly what you meant to him. He could travel across infinite timelines composing songs that would make history’s greatest bards weep and it still wouldn’t accurately convey how truly, deeply, and earnestly he cared for you.

Your heartbeats tenderly pressed against each other. It was a moment of stillness amidst the chaos. As the onslaught of torrential gales tore the trees from their roots, launching detritus and debris high into the air, Barbatos could see you far more clearly than he ever had before.

“I’m afraid I don’t have the strength…” he began. His lips continued uttering truthfully the extent of his weakness and current failings beyond his control. Perhaps for the first time since meeting you, he was being honest about his true feelings.

Your words bellowed over the roar of the gales and the crashing of glass, the raw power of your voice moved him and gave him the strength he needed. The words you chose to inspire him were harsh and passionate, blazing with fiery belief in his capabilities, and demanded he draw upon the very heart of his devotion. He couldn’t help but laugh. He wrapped his own arms around you, resting them on your waist in a way that felt so natural to him, despite it being the first time he’d ever attempted to hold you. He pressed his pounding forehead delicately against your shoulder. He had never known a sanctuary quite like you.

“Aha, I think perhaps I finally understand what it is about you that I find so irresistible.” He admitted at last.

As the two of you stood before the great abyss beyond the material realm, entwined in a lover’s embrace, all of Barbatos’s other concerns paled into insignificance. What use was there in questioning why he loved you? Or deciphering the root of it within your heart? It appeared to mean nothing to him now.

The question of when did Barbatos know he loved you only had one answer that truly mattered: now.

He loved you now, and now it was time that he began to show that to you.

#perdita writes #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #om Barbatos x reader #obey me Barbatos #I'm so glad this is finished #I sincerely hope people enjoy it #especially my fellow Barb lovers

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Happy holiday season @mari-onberry !!! I’m your Secret Santa this year! Please accept this very special Lukanette fic! All the best in 2023!

An enormous thank you to all of the @mlsecretsanta team for organizing this wonderful event!!! 

Many thanks to @goblin-alchemist​ for betareading this!

The Siren Song

Summary: The siren song is a beautiful and treacherous thing, they say. But Prince Luka never listened to old tales; he always listened to his heart instead. So when his heart fell for the divine melodies sung by the full moon over the boundless ocean, he knew the myths were wrong. For whoever sang that song, must have had a beautiful soul and a pure heart. The raven hair and ocean-blue eyes were a nice bonus. Too bad he was a bit too preoccupied with drowning to properly appreciate them.

Also on AO3

Chapter 1. If you sing to the mermaids 

If you sing to the mermaids, they come when you're drowning — Tori Amos

The evening was particularly calm at the sea. The Liberty was being gently lulled to sleep over the sluggish waves. There was a storm brewing far on the horizon, its tall clouds made even darker courtesy of the full moon. But if Prince Luka averted his eyes from the boiling bulks of lightning, he could pretend it was a tranquil evening, just like the one a month ago. 

He found it hard to believe that four whole weeks had passed since the Liberty had set sails to take him to faraway lands in search for a suitable match. Despite his mother’s objections, his father, King Jagged, had been unusually insistent on finding Luka a bride worthy of the crown prince. And Luka, ever the obedient and good-natured son, met princess after princess, heiress after heiress, some daughters of noblemen in the mix as well. Some had been stunningly beautiful, others - as he’d been told - unimaginably rich. Some had talent for embroidery, flower-arranging, cricket or other skills considered useful in high society. Some had shown interest in music, either in singing or playing instruments, yet Luka found each performance lacking the essence and passion he so desired in a soulmate. 

Juleka, his sister, mocked him for being picky. The truth was much simpler. His heart had already been taken, only he couldn’t say so out loud.

How could he, when he hadn’t even laid eyes on the one he’d fallen for? When he wasn’t even sure she existed, that he hadn’t dreamed of her that night of the full moon a month ago?

Such thoughts ran through his head, as Luka stood on the prow gazing on the dark, oily waves, straining his ears, searching for the notes of the song that had captured his heart. The melody had seemed out of this world, sung in a bizarre language, in a scale he’d never encountered despite his thorough musical education. Yet in some unfathomable way it had reached right into his soul and imprinted itself in his memory forever. 

Wind picked up, ruffling Luka’s hair and filling his lungs with salty air. The prince pulled out his guitar, he strummed the strings, listening to the wind whispering in the instrument’s belly. He felt the world holding its breath and he found himself waiting, wound tightly just below the breaking point.

Then came the song. 

Vibrant notes carried over the ocean, pulling at his heartstrings like no melody had ever done before. Luring him in, making him want more, making him wish it’d never end. Luka gasped, realizing this was his moment of truth, that he hadn’t been imagining things or slowly going crazy. He had been right the whole time. 

For a few moments he let himself be submerged in the music. When it filled him to the brim he took a deep breath. He raised his guitar and joined the song in an impossible duet, just like that first time one month ago. 

The voice, searching and wistful at first, turned joyful, excited even, as if the guitar was a long missing friend. It greeted the new addition with enthusiasm, relishing the new harmonies, new possibilities that came from combining the vocal and the instrument. Unified the voice and the guitar transformed the song into something greater than its parts.

It flew over the water. It echoed in the ship’s hull. It filled the sails.

Enchanting. 

Mesmerizing. 

Spellbinding. 

Luka was lost in the music, in the feeling of finally being complete. He reached deeper to the underlying rhythm and discovered it synchronized with his own pulse, a perfect harmony of two heartbeats. The heartsong he’d been looking for, the one he’d been drawn to, the one he’d been destined to join. His soulmate, he realized, opening his eyes.

And then the storm hit.

***

It wasn’t unusual for Marinette to sing in the evenings nor was it uncommon for her to dream of the adventures in faraway lands, above the sea, among the two-legged people she frequently spotted on the beaches and on those wooden sea beasts called ships. Yet, she never dared to sing above the surface, allowing her voice to be heard by ears other than those belonging to the merfolk. At least not until that last full moon, when she had succumbed to the strange desire that had awakened in her, urging the little mermaid to swim up to the surface and let her song flow freely over the waves. 

Something told her that was where she was supposed to be, and that was what she was supposed to be doing. She never expected to be answered back. She never would have guessed her performance wouldn’t be a solo, but instead a duet out of this world. 

The boy had been standing in the moonlight, high over the water. His dark hair had been tinted blue at the tips, as if he’d dipped them in the ocean. His eyes reflected the moonlight, glowing unnaturally bright, while he stared out into the darkness with a faraway expression upon his handsome face. She’d wondered what he was dreaming about at that moment. At first she had thought he’d been singing, but then she noticed the instrument he’d been wielding, a brown box with strings. The melody had been divine, soft and tender, reaching out, searching. It found her song and entwined itself with it, creating a new harmony, filling the pauses, completing the rhythm, until the song became a perfect amalgam of water and land, of above and below, of human and mer. 

It had left Marinette wanting to follow the ship, to never separate from the boy. And she might have just gone for it if it wasn’t for Tikki. Her crab chaperon had caught up with her at the last moment. She pinched Marinette’s tail, quite painfully, snapping the girl out of her reverie. The ship had disappeared from sight long before Tikki finished scolding Marinette for her unauthorized evening swim. 

Since then the little mermaid anxiously awaited news of ships passing over their kingdom, but none of them sported the characteristic eyes and whale-like smile of the boy’s vessel. She almost lost hope she’d ever see him again. Her heart ached at the thought, as if that stranger, who hadn’t even seen her, took a part of her with him and she’d never be complete again without it. 

Tikki must have had a word with Alya, because her guppy childhood friend kept a close eye on Marinette for the whole month and asked a lot of pointed human-related questions. Finally Marinette was able to coax Nino, the googly-eyed turtle, to ask Alya out, freeing herself of her orange-tailed friend’s company.

As luck had it, this was the night of the full moon. Marinette feigned going to bed early to get King Tom and Queen Sabine off her scales. Then, she set out to find if she was indeed as lucky as she’d been dubbed by the royal court. 

Anxiously, Marinette swam to the surface and began her siren song. She sang of all the hopes and dreams, the feelings that came to her that fateful night, the heartache that followed. She felt the world falling silent around her, bewitched and enthralled by this new song. The wind carried it into the night, but only the moon listened.

She almost gave up, but then she heard the soft and sweet sounds of the instrument - guitar, as she’d learned - calling out to her. 

She saw him standing on the prow, eyes closed, fingers dancing over the strings. His whole being seemed to be consumed by music, her music. Marinette would be a liar if she said she didn’t like the thought. But just as he seemed to be spellbound by the melody, she felt similarly smitten. She hadn’t even locked eyes with him, yet she felt the connection between them, a bond stronger than anything she’d experienced in her life. 

At the next flash of lightning, he opened his eyes and looked straight at her. Marinette froze, hypnotized by his gaze, unable to look away. Her voice died in her throat, just like the guitar grew silent. 

A beat of silence. Two heartbeats. Three - and then came the hurricane drowning everything in rain and wind. 

Marinette found it difficult to stay above the water, the waves tossing her any way they liked. She tried her best to stay close to the ship, because each time she resurfaced she saw him standing right there, despite the gusts and the rain, looking for her. As if he cared for no one else in the entire world. As if the storm, the ocean’s wrath didn’t matter to him at all.

As if he had eyes only for her. 

Another lightning bolt struck dangerously close and she dove below the surface for cover. When she reemerged, several other humans had appeared up on the deck, scurrying about with a chaotic, frantic energy. Her eyes darted around, seeking out her musician, but she couldn’t spot him anywhere among the men. A round object bobbed on the water, tethered to the ship with a thick rope, while the crew kept shouting and pointing towards it. 

Marinette’s stomach clenched. Chills descended down her spine, shaking the fin of her tail. Something was wrong. She dove to where the crew were pointing. At the next flash of lightning she saw her musician frantically fighting the currents, kicking and waving his hands. Despite his efforts he kept sinking further and further down, pulled back by a maelstrom he’d gotten caught in. 

Never in her life had Marinette raced so fast. In a blink, she was at his side, wrestling with the vortex, pulling him away from its clutches. She wrapped him in a tight embrace, shielding him from the currents, but stopped her finning when he looked at her in astonishment.

‘Hi,’ she uttered shyly, suddenly extremely aware of their closeness.

He opened his mouth to reply but only a few bubbles of air came out. Then, he passed out in her arms.

Right, humans needed air from above the water to breathe. Marinette rushed back to the surface. 

#mlsecretsanta2022 #lukanette #little mermaid au #soulmates au #prince!luka #mer!marinette #a gift for mari-onberry #luka couffaine #marinette dupain cheng #perdita writes #pro lukamari

[perplexingly]

I'm on the last chapter of The Last Man, and hm... Mary Shelley wanted to write gay romance real bad huh

#Like I don't think Mary Shelley was bad at writing women in general considering Perdita and Clara #But damn.. Idris was really ever mentioned as an afterthought in this book #While we see Lionel's affection towards Adrian constantly #Adrian even acted as an extra parent to Clara and Evelyn

[elhowe]

Perdita of Sicily and Bohemia

Princess, Daughter of a Shepherd or Shepherdess, Daughter of a King?

The Winters Tale. post - Act 5. Scene 3.

All but Perdita exit. She looks off. 

Perdita speaks.

I wonder if there is more story here.

[a pause] 

There is, of course. There always is.  A story cannot stand alone -  Not one line holds the next line back For fear his time will not be shown.

A man writes words, woman recites Here we go, never-ending plight

And yet I stand here,  Woman, wife, daughter, princess And even now I wish for more -  Or else, perhaps. A shepherdess,  With the name of royalty.

 [Another pause. She laughs without humor.] 

A shepherdess! A shepherdess, or a princess?  Who can tell the difference now.  I stand here with red skin and calloused fingers

I use lanolin to treat them, but here! Where are my sheep, my care? Sicily’s cold coast holds me away  And my wool will be fine now -  Spun by someone far away,  Carded and combed and washed  By a woman I will never meet.

A farmer in the employ of my father - My father, a man called Leonates - a king - Not the shepherd of my upbringing,  Not my beloved carer, but a man in a castle Who cast me away, doomed my mother to death,  At a glance which he now knows was nothing

Leonates claims me as his own daughter, now But as an infant - fresh from the womb,  The most innocent of gods creatures He set me to die, to be left for the wild. 

And I am lonely, here - I have a husband, my dear, Florizel, but I knew him by another name not weeks ago, And I knew not of his father - the King, Another king, who now calls me daughter While my own father stands there, beside me,  Dressed in finery I could never have imagined in my youth,  My brother beside him, his own fine clothes that do not fit The fool I know him to be.

Here, they too, are called kin - Leonates calls my father ‘brother,’ my brother ‘son’.  My mother, a woman I knew not of and then believed to be dead in only a minute,  Now suddenly stands tall, marble come to warm life. 

And a brother, too - not that which has been with me through my childhood, But another, dead from when I was hardly a day old. Shall I mourn him too? A child, so much younger than I am now, dead nearly all my life,  but with blood and lineage the same as mine. He fell with grief, for the woman he called mother his whole life, and I wonder where my grief should be? Should it be long gone, with the rest? Should I be celebrating this joyous reunion?  I should, I know! I know, I know, I know!

And still there are more to know - Paulina, who must be my mother’s -  (‘the queen’, instead, for I cannot find it in myself yet to call her mother,) Handmaiden, a woman loyal beyond words.  She embraced me upon recognition, gave me words of comfort,  And so I am grateful to her,  And the man Antigonus, her husband, whom they tell me is long dead,  Killed while saving my life. My life, worth that of this noble man’s. 

But Paulina stands as if she is indebted to me - she bids me bow to my mother,  As if I was not mourning her death but a moment ago - This, I think! I am told I have a mother, told she is dead, told we are to see her likeness, told she is alive And now Leonates wishes us to speak To know one another, our lost time -  Must I? Must I know this life?  I am happy with my love, and with the wealth my father and brother, the shepherds, have received I would not deign to lack forgiveness, for the gift I have been given In love, and wealth and family, both old and new. But here I stand and I miss my sheep! One, I had raised since its birth An ewe, by the name of Dorcsa - a light joke, a tease amongst friends.  Dorcsa now, I wonder, looks for me.  I know full well she does not - I know the nature of sheep,  So long as one is feeding them,  they have no wist for those who have fed before So perhaps she looks not for me, But I for her - I see her, and myself, a youth,  Embracing her warm coat, picking burrs out of the wool  which I would later help my father to carefully shear.  I had imagined I would do this - shearing and burr-picking  - And feeding and grazing and corralling -  For the rest of my life, and now I know not if I will do it ever again It is hard work, for certain, but it is the work I know. Will the calluses on my hands go soft?  Will my skill with the sheep waver?  Will I know no-longer how to create yarn from the raw wool,  will I remember only bits of my once treasured profession?

[A pause. She is imagining her sheep, and then she looks back towards where Hermione’s ‘statue’ had stood.] 

I had dreamt of my mother, throughout my youth, And yet even today, with Kings and Lords pronouncing the power of dreams,  I know that this visionary image was not the woman who has now come to life,  As a child, and, I must confess, even so recent, I did not picture The Queen Hermione, who stands before me now and tells me I am her own.  I saw, in those dreams, another woman, a working woman,  who shared my freckled skin and sun bleached hair,  not the pale visage and carefully arranged locks of the Queen, and this woman, my imagined mother,  wore a crown of daisies, not gold, as Hermione does even now,  As the man my father Leonates takes her away from this old house.

I am old enough now, I know now well enough,  That this was not some ought but natural vision But only the imagination of a youth  Who had never known from whose breast she came.  Somehow, though, I think that woman from the dream  May have made more sense as the mother to me,  A woman who now stands as a Princess - in two ways,  That of Bohemia and that of Sicily!  And yet wishes for the fields and labor that she has always known.

My new father-in-law, at the feast which I hosted, Which seems ages ago now, in my lost home of Bohemian fields,  Said that I appeared noble, despite my poor family. “She smacks of something greater than herself,” he said, When he did not think I could hear, “Too noble for this place,” He called me, and I heard, and at the time, I thought it a compliment. 

I am noble, I had thought, while I danced like a child, I do appear great.  Now I think of how he must have meant it - a girl pretending,  Imagining she could be good enough, noble enough,  to marry the Prince to whom I am now wed. Well it is alright now, Polixenes must have said,  now that I know from whose loins she came.  The noble Leonates,  who would cast an infant away for no crime of its own,  who would send his noble wife to prison because of an anxious thought.  It is his daughter, his offspring, who may marry Florizel,  Not the daughter of the poor Shepherd, Who would find a baby alone and take her in with no question,  Who would raise her as his own, with all the love in his heart. 

I told Florizel, back in Bohemia,  “I told you so,” I told him,  That nothing good could come of our relationship.  I told him, “I’ll queen it no inch farther, But milk my ewes and weep.” And now I do not weep, and I am without my ewes, And I am likely to someday be Queen,  Alongside the king of that man I met by chance,  When I thought my life would be only ewes and pastures. 

So now I stand here in this empty hall.  Soon enough I shall rejoin my family -  those who have lived by that name for many years,  and those who have not.  But for just a moment I will mourn.  The shepherdess Perdita, who is named for loss,  With the red cheeks and freckled skin and mess of hair And the shepherd family and the rural home and the sheep named In gentle teasing of friends. 

And I will allow her to leave, sail away on the west wind,  Back to her rolling hills and her sheep and her childhood,  As I step towards the Princess of Sicily and Bohemia. 

I wrote / made this for class lol but I was proud of it. Perdita is a character in Shakespeares The Winters Tale, who is a princess abandoned by her royal father as an infant and raised by a shepherd and his son. At the end, she has very few lines but basically seems to just accept her new life, and I wanted her to have something to say - my first stage direction here is meant to sit at the very end of the play.

I photoshopped the image myself - it's from a painting by Frederick Sandy's that's just called Perdita. The flowers are all ones she mentions in (one of? I can't remember) her first appearances in the play.

I wrote a bunch about this because it was my final project for this class, but it's mostly rambling so I didn't put it here lol, probably already rambly enough.

#writers #shakespeare #the winters tale #perdita #pastoral scene #pastoralism #romanticism #my writing #my artwork #:) #does this count as digital art (me photoshopping real art) #poetry #soliloquy #my bs art

[swift-creates]

category: Gen

fandom: Star Wars

characters and relationships: Arsenal (OC) & Perdita (OC) - platonic (mother-daughter)

warnings: graphic depictions of violence, major Character Death, Violence, Amputation, no anesthesia, Self-Sacrifice, p heavy blood and gore and death

Summary:

@ailesswhumptober day 14: Bleeding Through the Bandage / Field Medicine / No Anesthesia Day 16: Amputation / Chronic Pain / Hospital ALT 22: Nerve Damage Day 24: Failed Escape / Hunted Down / Too Exhausted to Keep Running

I'm bleeding out So if the last thing that I do Is bring you down I'll bleed out for you

Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons

notes: original species: kogti are like sloths if sloths were fast and carnivorous and terrifying.

more about Zero Company

#swift creates #swift writes #star wars #the clone wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #star wars fic #ailesswhumptoberdayfourteen #arsenal (OC) #perdita (OC) #fic #fanfiction #whump #angst #ailesswhumptober2023 #fic writing #whumptober #violence #blood #gore #hurt no comfort #death #mcd #major character death #star wars species

[vampire-himbos-of-santa-perdita]

Well, this is certainly an Iconic moment to complete NaNoWriMo with...

She doesn’t know how long she stood in front of that gilded mirror either, simply staring. Not even at herself, as there was no reflection to be had from that particular looking glass. She felt a particular kinship with Alice, and pondered perhaps there might be a world at the other side of that mirror, and if she could just… she reaches a finger out to prod at the mirror, hoping to might feel the tip of it slide right through, mercurial like water. What happens instead is a vice grip snagging at her wrist as something uses her as anchor to pull itself out. She shrieks, the thing following her out even after she shakes it loose. A scrambling body reaches blind for her, just the bare arms shaken loose from the glass first, then comes the torso, twisting in a rictous until its face contorts to greet her, chin tipped upward, jaw stretched open in a wretched harpy scream, as if to summon an entire flock just like her. The thing’s pale hair falls backwards into her face, long and trailing against the dusty floorboards. And when it shakes loose, it’s penetrating green eyes, two emeralds gleaming headlights, catching Marnie faun-like in their gaze. Marnie’s head snaps to her only clear exit: the door she came through. But this is eliminated as quickly as its sought out, slamming before she can even run to it. It’s not only locked from the outside, but melted into the wall until Marnie’s not even sure a door was there in the first place. And now all that’s left is… The window. The two parting window panes unlatch easily at her touch, and she stretches one adolescent leg up onto the sill, then the other, until she’s standing, overlooking the garden below. And with one final fearful glance back at the creature pursuing her, she jumps.

#sophie writes #am writing #nanowrimo #the vampires of santa perdita #marnie marsette #regardless 2.0

[inamindfarfaraway]

Meet my Disney Descendants OCs! Children of Bill Sykes, Tiana and Naveen and Charlotte La Bouff. They live an altered version of canon, because we all know that canon has serious flaws in writing, worldbuilding and tone.

#please ask me about them! #i know dogs don't live as long as roscoe and desoto do here #but i headcanon that due to their human intelligence (they have language tool use problem solving everything) #Disney dogs live significantly longer than normal ones #i’ve seen fanfics where pongo and perdita are still alive so it’s fine #roscoe and desoto only have like two years left though but they’re gonna die peacefully and loved this time #and as for oliver real cats can live into their twenties #georgette is dead though #sorry #i don’t like her as much #i mean by twenty years ago she’d had a long show dog career #and was implicitly past her prime (needing ‘paint and glue’ and ‘some minor adjustments’ for her looks’) #look at her bedroom and imagine how fancy her gravestone must be #plus if i ever do write actual fanfiction about mina #there can be a story where roscoe and desoto die and jenny helps her cope because she’s been there #sometimes a family is you your adoptive mother who your abusive father traumatized her rescue cat and your four huge ex-attack dogs #descendants #descendants ocs #disney descendants #disney descendants ocs #fyeahdisneydescendantsocs #oliver & company #oliver and company #bill sykes #disney bill sykes #disabled oc #the princess and the frog #princess and the frog #patf

[mkkk12345]

Divus Crewel x Wife Reader How they met

Sorry this took so long to write, I was once again procrastinating lol Feel free to request situations (I write slowly and I’ll be pretty busy for the next while sadly, but please do request if you would like to! I'll do anyone in twst for the most part with your usual restrictions) (side note I got the names for the dogs from the 101 Dalmatians)

1.2K words

------

Oh how Crewel would come to regret what he had done that day, he really should have seen it coming. “Hey! Professor Crewel, tell us how you met your wife!”

This had all started when Crowley had approached him with a challenge. “If you manage to raise the class average of the first years to let's say~ 80 percent? I'll give you a raise! Am I not so incredibly generous? Hahahhahaaaa” He cawed to himself as Crewel walked away absolutely done with the crow mans shenanigans

Rolling his eyes he responds “I guess there is no harm in attempting it”

As an encouragement to study harder he had told his students that if they were able to raise the class average to 80 percent by the next semester he would allow them to ask one question about his personal life. Of course all of the students had jumped at the chance to glance into the oh so mysterious and strict teachers personal life.

And that is why we are here now.

Professor Divus Crewel, now being forced to tell the oh so embarrassing story of how he had met his lovely wife.

“Well it's not the worst question you lot could have asked. I would rather not share this story but if I must I will do so…”

—----

Divus was around 17 when he first met Y/N It was a bright and sunny day, the weather was perfect and it just so happened to be a long weekend, a rare opportunity to visit home in the Queendom of Roses.

It was also a perfect day to take his beloved pet dalmatian Perdita for a nice long walk in the nearby park for some long deserved bonding time.

When Crewel was home from NRC he would often take Perdita to the park. Whether it was actual exercise or for some relaxing time outside to sketch new fashion designs, Perdita never really minded. But today was different, the minute the pair stepped out of the door the spotted dog went bolting in the direction of the park. “Hey! Slow down girl, why on earth are you in such a rush today?!” he said, trying to keep all his sketching supplies from falling to the ground.

Luckily for young Divus, the dalmatian did eventually slow down once they reached the park. “You act as if no one has been bringing you to the park since I left for school.” he said exasperated from the impromptu run.

Soon after catching his breath Divus and his companion walked over to a nearby bench so the boy could start sketching, but right as he put his sketching equipment down there was another sudden tug on the lead and once again they were off “hey! Slow down! What has gotten into you toda-” CRASH he had been cut off suddenly, crashing into another person as Perdita and what seemed to be another dalmatian were running circles around the two very effectively tying the two together.

When he finally pried his eyes away from the dogs he finally realized the full situation he was in, tied up with a very beautiful young lady. “Oh my god I'm so sorry he doesn't usually act like this, Pongo would you stop that already?”

“Don't worry it was neither of our faults really, I guess these two have taken quite the interest in one another” he said as he pulled his arm out of the leashes to awkwardly scratch the back of his neck a blush forming on his face as he looked at a very interesting tree behind her.

“They've actually been like this for weeks!” she laughed as she finally met his eyes, “Oh you must be Divus! Your mother talks about you very often.” He was surprised, not only was this girl absolutely stunning but she already knew him. Although he would never admit it, he practically fell in love with her right then and there, the way she beamed with joy, the slight blush on her cheeks, her laugh even in the strangest of situations.

In an attempt to calm himself he averted his gaze again and began to untie him and his new developing crush from the entanglement of leashes they were trapped in “Oh you must have met mother while she was walking Perdita I do hope she didn't tell you anything embarrassing” a strained smirk appeared on his face, knowing how his mother liked to tell the most embarrassing stories of his childhood.

“Well I cant say she didn't say anything” she laughed softly again drawing Divus’s attention for a moment the blush on his face growing ever brighter.

Snapping out of his short trance he asked “Might I ask for your name then since you already know mine?” With blush remaining on the tips of ears he held out his hand like a gentleman, both with the intention to give her, her dogs leash back but also to lead her over to a bench so they could hopefully continue their conversation.

“Oh my apologies how rude of me, My name is Y/N nice to finally meet you.” She bashfully took both the leash and his hand, walking over to the bench.

“The pleasure is mine”

—-

“And whilst that was all happening I looked over to our dogs, only to find them looking at each other with what seemed to be a grin on their faces like they planned that all out.” Crewel sighed as he recalled how proud those little devils looked. “After quite a long conversation that ended up in me never actually starting a new sketch, we traded contact information and left the park.” he looked up at his students now regretting all his life decisions.

“And that is how I met my wife, now it seems like class is over, please leave quickly so I can question why I ever became a teacher in the first place.”

“But prof how did you ask her out?” “Yeah yeah! Who was the first one to confess!” “How did you propose????”

Frustrated crewel quickly answered “If I recall correctly you were all only given the privilege of asking one question, now if you don't stop pestering me I will be giving you even more homework.” a completely very unnoticable blush began to form on his face.

“Sorry sir!” Everyone shouted in unison, but on their way out the students did not miss the slightest hint of red that dusted their professor's cheeks as he pretended to sort through papers.

Once everyone had left and silence had fallen through the classroom a laughter could be heard coming from the Professors phone. “Awwwww darling, you retell that story so fondly~” Crewel sighed as he finally looked over at his phone

“I honestly can not believe I let you talk me into letting you listen to that.” he said with a hand firmly planted on his face covering any sign of pink that appeared.

“Consider it as repaying me for when I dropped those papers off for you. Now hurry home our two rascals of dogs are looking at me like I should thank them for getting us together.” she laughed nervously

“Yes yes honey see you soon” ending the call with a small smirk as he muttered “I should buy some more dog treats on the way back.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #crewel x reader #divus crewel #divus crewel x reader #divus crewel x yuu #twisted wonderland headcanons

[drunkwhenimadethis]

Today was my first time ever naked suntanning in my whole life and it was more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. My entire body feels warm and alive and awake. Beaming ringing heat and when you keep your eyes closed for so long and blink awake, the day is a different shade of blue. Thankful for our top floor terrace, it's so secluded when I lay on the (fake) grass I just see the edges of the tallest trees. It's so old and the stone on the walls is crumbling but I love it. After two hours in the sun I had a bowl of yogurt and peaches. And cold espresso. My fridge is almost empty but it's Sunday so I'm not going grocery shopping until tomorrow. Leaving dinner up to God. Reading "Inner Work" by Jungian analyst Robert Johnson and I like it so far. I have been having such vivid, interactive, explicit dreams. Some are very angry, like my subconscious is warning me to wake up. I'm going to buy a journal tomorrow, for the purpose of writing down my dreams, and start interacting with that side of myself more. It's daunting because it all feels so abstract. I've lost my ability to articulate anything. On the brightest side. Have fallen in love with NANA the anime, I'm watching the Italian dub and it's so so lovely the fashion, the atmosphere, the characters, perfect, ogni volta che guardo la TV in italiano mi dico che non è una perdita di tempo.

[mihiigonscepaternampeccavi]

“Divus Crewel!~”

Scenario: Gn!reader pissed off at divus and sings Cruella de Vil.

Pronouns: you/I

“Professor Crewel hates me, I tell you!” I groan, exasperated, sitting down on my seat with a slump.

“I’m sure that’s not true, he’s just looking out for you!” Deuce reasoned, munching on cookies.

“As if! Headmaster Crowley is already making [ ]’s life a living hell! Professor Crewel’s just making it worse.” Ace snarked, looking up from his phone as he laid, sprawled on the couch.

“Ace, darling! You’ve given me a brilliant idea!” Turning to my piano and smiling at grim funnily.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Grim whined, “oh you know I am!” Giggling I pick Grim up and put him down on the rug.

“Whatcha doin, prefect?” He looked, curious and confused.

“Writing a song my dear Perdita!” giggling you turn to the piano, wondering.

“Perdita?” Deuce was clueless while Ace laughed loudly. “Prefect, you’re kidding!” He bawls, laughing.

“Oh shush, my darling Pongo!” I smiled, “Plus! My dear Perdita is the calmer one.” I grinned and started a tune as Ace’s mouth flew open.

“That’s mean, prefect! Also, what would grim be if we’re the dogs?” Ace grinned as Deuce was still confused.

“He’d be more than fit to be a dozen puppies. He eats much more than one puppy anyway!” Smirking, I continued my tune.

“Mrhah!!! No fair! I need cans of tuna for compensation!”

Smiling, I continued. “Divus Crewel… Divus Crewel! If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will…”

“LMAO PREFECT?!” Ace fell on the floor, in tears

“Ace, darling! That isn’t a flattering look!~” shaking I resumed, “to see him is to take a sudden chill… Divus, Divus Crewel! Hah!~” I glanced at Deuce, winking. His face getting hot as Ace kept laughing.

“The curl of his lips, the ice in his stare! All innocent students had better, beware!” You gave in and laughed, unbeknownst to you four, Dire had come with Divus to give you an order.

Their eyes shooting up as they heard you singing.

“He’s like a spider waiting for the ki-ill~” I dragged my fingers through the keys as the door opened without my knowledge. “Look out, for… Divus Crewel!”

I continued singing, not realising Ace had gone quiet and the doors had opened.

“At first you’d think Divus is the devil! Bap bada~ but after time has worn away the shock!!” Giggling I sang even louder.

“You’ve come to realise, you’ve seen his kind of eyes… watching you from underneath the rock!” I guffawed, still irritated with the professor.

“This vampire bat,” I rolled my eyes, as the two staffs’ eyes had bugged out and mouths were wide open. “This inhuman beast, he oughta be locked up and never released!”

“This school was such a wholesome place unti-il~ Divus, Divus Crewel! Haha!” Finally noticing the silence you look at Deuce and Ace.

“Why so quiet, Perdita, Pongo?” I smiled as I noticed their panicked eyes.

“Ahem… Ramshackle Prefect.”

“…kill me?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #crack fic #divus crewel #ace trappola #deuce spade #twst grim #gn!reader #x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #dire crowley #Spotify

[cadybear420]

Cadybear's Reviews- Murder at Homecoming

Welcome to the thirty-seventh official Cadybear's Reviews! Today I'll be talking about Murder at Homecoming, which I have ranked on the "Platinum Tier" at 9 stars out of a possible 10. My last and only playthrough of this was during September-December 2022.

This is definitely one of the better, if not the best release, of 2022, and it’s easily among my personal faves. 

A MC who is proactive and gets shit done, multiple LIs, highly compelling story. How can I not love that? All three of the LIs are amazing characters– and Tyler especially is just precious. I think he’s the first love interest I have ever adored nearly as much as I’ve adored Aiden. I miss when we had male LIs that are just so babygirl. 

The incorporation of mature topics and queer themes was especially excellent. MTFL, take notes! Because THIS is how you write a teen story that talks about queer sexuality and mature behaviors. Besides maybe BiBound I mean BloodBound, this is probably the first book in Choices where each LI has some degree of confirmed sexuality outside of their LI option status for the MC. 

One thing that’s especially notable is how Tyler will talk about how he used to think he was straight if you romance him as a male or enby MC. I normally don’t mind much when LIs in GOC stories are made with the “playersexual” style of writing, but these sort of little changes are a good show of effort and give Tyler more character.

But of course, it’s not without a handful of problems. 

Like COP (1), the story is incredibly linear and none of the clues or choices really affect your story. Sure, they give you a bit of extra background, but that’s about it. 

The only choices that really have any impact are the stuff related to the queer discussions, Tyler’s romance route, and how the options for how your MC can talk about their queer experience can change based on your MC’s gender and romance choices. Which is still highly praiseworthy, don’t get me wrong, but I’d have loved to see some variation in the other elements of the book too.

And as much as I did enjoy this MC and do consider them one of the more refreshing ones, they were also a bit too rigid and pre-set for me at times. I get that some MCs will need to have pre-set details about them, and to some degree that does apply to this MC, but it was a bit much at times. Like, there was especially no need to give them a default first AND last name. I do like the aspect of MC preferring to go by their middle name, but we still could have been allowed to change their first and last names too, to be honest. 

I found it really hard to feel for the loss of Perdita for this reason; the traumatic event backstory didn’t feel as well established, compared to that of ILITW and ACOR MCs. Though to be fair, I do remember there being a handful of premium scenes to see a memory with Perdita, and I do remember skipping all but two of them. 

But even then, I never felt she had quite as much importance as the writers clearly wanted her to have? Outside of being a motivator for MC to solve Gabbie’s case and allowing MC to connect with Donovan better. Maybe my opinion on this might change after I give it a replay, though. 

That being said, I’m actually fine with the story not telling us what really happened to Perdita, as much as I’d have loved a continuation for this book. MC not knowing what happened to Perdita is what motivated them to solve Gabbie’s case, and in that regard, the two cases kind of juxtapose one another. Whereas MC is able to get closure for Gabbie’s case, they don’t do that for Perdita’s case.

That makes the ending a little more nuanced in my opinion. Sometimes, we don’t always get closure for these kinds of things. While I’m still mixed on how well the story integrated Perdita, this message was handled decently and didn’t feel like it was in bad spirit. 

So if there were a continuation for this story, I wouldn’t mind it being centered around MC finding Perdita, motivated to work on that case more actively after their success with Gabbie’s case. But rather than having them solve the case, it can mostly center around them struggling between whether they should keep up that search, or leave it as a cold case and move on. 

Overall, definitely a higher-tier and very respectable story that definitely deserves a replay. 

#choices stories you play #choices #choices game #choices stories we play fandom #choices stories we play #cadybear's reviews #murder at homecoming choices #choices murder at homecoming #murder at homecoming spoilers #mah #choices mah

[jungle-angel]

LISTEN LISTEN 🗣️🗣️I Remember Everything by Zach Bryan is SO ABSOLUTELY Rhett Abbott having a fight with you and making up CODED i need someone to write this so bad

OH GOD NONNY!!!!! I am so sorry that this is so late in coming but the squeak I had let out when I saw this!!

It had been a long week for both you and Rhett. He felt terrible about the fight you two had gotten into one night, a simple mistake really, but one that you didn't wish to make again. Tensions in the house were already high and everybody was on their last nerve, the stress of getting your home built up in Bozeman and the stress of getting all the paperwork in so that you and Rhett would have legal custody of Amy.

You sniffed away the tears, your hands buried in your face even as Pongo, your beloved Dalmatian whined and licked your face. Perdita wasn't too far behind him either, settling in beside you with her head in your lap.

You turned every thought over in your head as you watched the gorgeous sunset of early spring, the days much warmer and much lighter now, listening for the little baby monitor on the porch just in case Amy started crying.

God why does this shit have to be so fucking hard.......?! You thought.

Why did it? It shouldn't have been that hard and yet it was. You wiped away the tears from your stinging, reddened eyes, watching the hills with every hope that your husband would come back. You heard the storm door on the porch hiss and click shut along with the clunk of your father-in-law's boots.

"Hey sweetheart," Royal said, seating himself beside you. "Ya'll ok?"

"I dunno Roy," you croaked. "I'm so sorry for whatever happened......."

""Don't you dare be sorry (y/n)," Royal told you. "This ain't your fault. There's just alot of tension in the house right now and us Abbott men tend to let it get the better of us."

You nodded as Royal handed you a mason jar full of his homemade spiked apple cider. It was so smooth you couldn't even taste the alcohol in it.

"Why does shit have to be this hard?" you croaked.

"Sometimes shit gets hard so that we can appreciate life more," Royal mused. "I know it sounds fucked up, but if ya'll go through life expectin everything to be handed to ya then what's really the point of it all?"

"You think so?"

"Not a doubt honey," Royal answered. "S'a real harsh lesson to learn. My Ma and my Pa learned that the hard way too and so didn't I. Ya'll should've heard the stories from when Cece and I were startin out."

"That bad?"

"Her temper got real hot one night after her younger brother stole money from her," Royal said with a chuckle. "She thought I was him walkin through that door and chucked a kitchen knife right at me."

You suddenly laughed through your tears as Royal went into detail about his and Cecelia's younger years, just starting out on the ranch as a young married couple with no idea of what the fuck they were doing. Deep down you felt better, but a nervous pang welled in your chest when you saw the familiar sight of Rhett's truck pulling up the gravel driveway. You saw Pongo and Perdita bounding down the steps to go and greet Rhett as he pulled out a bag from the back containing his and Royal's dinner orders from The Handsome Gambler.

"All good Dad?" he asked.

"Yeah just sharin a before dinner drink with (y/n)," Royal explained. "You free tomorrow or no?"

"I've got some stuff goin on," Rhett answered, running a hand through his hair. "Chester needs some help down at the farm across the street from the school."

"Alright, just curious, that's all," Royal said with a shrug. "Here, I've gotta go in and help your Ma with the laundry for a few."

Royal disappeared inside, leaving the two of you alone on the porch. Rhett quickly noticed the look on your face and tilted your chin so that your gazes met.

"Baby I am so, so sorry," he apologized, his voice croaking a little.

"Rhett, it was my fault, I made a mistake and....."

Rhett quickly drew you into his arms and pressed a heated kiss to your lips. "Hey," he said. "We both made a dumb mistake and we own up to it. Ya'll know I'll never walk out and leave you right?"

You nodded, the tears starting again.

You and Rhett sat on those steps for what felt like forever, nearly forgetting that dinner was waiting. You, Rhett, Royal and Cecelia all sat out on the porch and ate together, all of you listening just in case Amy woke up. Rhett curled his arm around you and pressed a kiss to your lips, the lingering taste of a cheeseburger still on his lips and the both of you closer than ever.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #royal abbott #cecelia abbott #royal x cecelia abbott #amy abbott #outer range

[yjwhatif]

TARGETS #6 SPOILERS…

BREAKING DOWN THE FUNERAL SHOT…

In case you can’t read my horrible writing…

We may have been denied seeing everyone in wedding attire but we did get to see everyone in their funeral attire which is pretty cool - there’s always something fun about seeing everyone in different clothes from usual... Even if it is for the unfortunate event of a funeral.

THE RUNAWAYS ARE HERE! You know the first thing I noticed about this shot was that Ed was in it… who scrubs up very nicely I might add… though he and Asami clearly had their growth spurts between the end of s2 and Wallys funeral because they were the smallies of the group and are now towering over previous tallie Tye! It genuinely makes me so happy that they’re all here - they really didn’t need to be given they hadn’t been associated with the heroes very long or know Wally beyond being kid flash, but the fact that they did go to the funeral is so compassionate and respectful - I love it!

Are Dinah's eyes on Bart? If they are, that's a really cool detail that I am obsessed with... Though, I don't know if they actually are, both her and Ollie seem to be looking more in the direction of Red tornado or something off panel... Which is more of an odd choice that I can't quite interpret... That being said, Dinah looking at Bart shows a need to check on him and acknowledge he may not be alright, out of everyone who she knows will definitely be struggling - Artemis, Dick, the other OGs, the rest of wally's family - and yet her focus is on the new kid from the future who would probably down play how affected he is by wally's loss... She's clearly tuned in on more than he'd want anyone to see... There's no hiding from Black Canary!

My boy Bart needs a hug right now! He looks so sad and isolated from everyone despite being surrounded by so many people - his chair is pulled away from iris's, disconnecting him from the other flashfam, there's probably guilt/imposter syndrome at being included with all wally's close family when he's only been around for a few months - obviously he does deserve to be there but I feel like he’d much prefer to be at the back and out of the way that front row. He’s looking at nothing/the ground - lost in his own thoughts/memories of past losses, his posture is hunched as he tries to make himself as small as possible - probably not wanting to be noticed or acknowledged in any way… basically he needs a hug! Also it is always wrong seeing Bart separated from Ed and Jaime - boy needs his besties!

Like when Artemis was “killed”, Conner’s natural response is to be angry before tearful, which I actually quite like - grief shows itself in different ways and it’s just as valid a response… it’s also interesting to see how M’gann is focusing on Conner, aware of how hurt he will be but not trying to physically connect/comfort him as they are still broken up at this point and maybe doesn’t want to overstep.

Perdita can’t even look at the tomb stone, possibly trying to hold back her tears.

Artemis, Dick and Kaldur’s reactions are all heartbreaking - Artemis is clearly trying to hold it together but is on the brink of completely breaking down while her mum, Barbara and Brucely crowd around her. Dick is full on sobbing - which is something we’ve never seen him do and shows just how affected he was by Wallys loss - his closest friend and confidant was gone. Then there’s Kaldur, who isn’t actually showing much visible reaction - which is very Kaldur - holding in whatever emotions he may definitely be feeling because he doesn’t want to access that side of himself… it’s interesting that dick and Kaldur seem to have opposite overall grief responses - dick broke down immediately then proceeded to disconnect from dealing with his feelings over s3, while Kaldur avoided dealing with his built up negative feelings from the beginning and has only just put his effort into working through his grief.

I like the idea that Garth is looking at Kaldur (though it may actually be that he’s looking at Artemis or Dick - a lot of the eye lines are difficult to properly pinpoint) If it is Kaldur he’s looking at, then that shows hes thinking about him and checking in on him - they were good friends once - and while they may not be as close anymore, Garth’s focus on him illustrates that he still cares and understands that Kaldur probably isn’t okay.

There is so much emotion coming from Dick/Artemis/Mrs. West that it’s attracting the attentions of Denny, Karen and Roy… maybe even Red Tornado and Jaime as well. I love seeing who people are looking at!

ORIN ISN’T WEARING SHOES!!

It genuinely threw me for at least 10 seconds as to which batkid was between Bruce and Cassie… and then I remembered when this was set and that it’s obviously Tim (🤦‍♀️)… though he does look remarkably similar to s1 Dick Grayson.

La’gaan is looking very suave in that outfit… though also very upset which is really heartbreaking!

Poor uncle Dudley - could everyone not just shuffle over a little bit so he could be fully in the shot?

It’s cool to finally see Freddy for the first time, who, as pointed out by someone on Twitter, is actually sat on plastic man as a chair - which is ridiculously brilliant - I did think it was an odd colour scheme for the chair to have compared to everyone else’s!

Love Alfred keeping a watchful eye on everyone at the back.

I did not expect this to be what Hawkman looks like under the mask!

Let’s talk Dr. Fate… Mr. ‘Doesn’t-Care-About-Anyone-Else’ being at Wally’s funeral is so powerful and one of my favourite things about this shot - this is a choice Nabu is making which shows respect for someone he had a brief connection with previously… also, he’s not fully visible so it could be no one else actually knows he’s there which plays into their assumption that he doesn’t care about anyone - but him being there shows there is some level of care/compassion. I really do find Nabu to be such a fascinating character in this show!

And those are my current thoughts on this shot - I think it’s absolutely brilliant and I’m so glad we go to see it! RIP Wally.

LB

#yj targets spoilers #young justice targets #yj spoilers #my random thoughts #renew young justice #young justice #yj #bart allen #dinah lance #nabu #dr fate #kaldur'ahm #conner kent #wally west #dick grayson #artemis crock #the runaways #eduardo dorado jr #asami koizumi #tye longshadow #virgil hawkins #kid flash #flashfam #long post #jaime reyes

[fairytale-poll]

I know that Ella Enchanted doesn't have any LGBT representation like Once Upon a Time (in Space) does, and I haven't listened to any of the Mechanisms & am sure it's really good, but growing up closeted I actually related a lot to Ella. She is under a curse of obedience where she has to do everything everyone says. The only people who know about it are Mandy, her fairy godmother & nanny, and her now late mother. When her mother dies she orders Ella to never tell anyone about the curse as she's afraid of the way they'd take advantage of her. Even her father doesn't know (and a good thing, too, as he definitely WOULD use it to his benefits in various ways). Ella knows the limits of her curse and orders. She has messed with it enough to know how long she can wait until obeying the order, how well she has to obey, etc. She tries not to let it get her down and still lives her life, though obviously it still affects her and in a key moment in the story, when she leaves her love interest Prince Char because he confesses his feelings (she feels the same way but is afraid that if she became his Queen one day someone would learn about her curse and make her do crimes against the country) fully breaks down about it. In a lesser story Ella would just be constantly depressed about the curse and lack agency, but despite LITERALLY NOT HAVING AGENCY IN HER LIFE, she's still a charming and funny character. She is clumsy. She learns different languages and loves linguistics. She makes friends with a girl that others bully when at finishing school. She's a bit sassy about the situation she's in and not always trying to be kind (though she is kind). Its a realistic depiction of a girl that age without getting too hand fisted about girl power or how super smart she is.

I feel like I related a lot more to her than other Cinderellas because of that. I could never be patient as Disney's Cinderella (animated or live action) no matter how I tried. And I wasn't as intelligent or witty as Danielle de Barbarac either. But I was like Ella. I knew the limits of being gender nonconforming without attracting attention (like she knew the limits of her curse), i tried to not let it get me down & tried to sassy about it, but it did hurt me to hide myself like it hurt Ella. Her curse & me being closeted both ended up leading to a romantic relationship being aborted before it could truly happen. Even up to be fact that her mother knew about her curse and was worried for her safety, but it was intergral her father didn't know. I felt that! I came out to my mother years before my father because we knew it wasn't safe. AND I ALSO LOVED LEARNING LANGUAGES like Ella learned languages from Perdita!

Anyone who reads this: you don't have to vote for Ella but I just wanted to tell you how amazing she and this book is anyway. I love Ella Enchanted so much thank you Gail Carson Levine for writing it.

If this propaganda has convinced you, click here to vote for Ella of Frell (Ella Enchanted)!

#not a poll #ask #propaganda

[blood-mocha-latte]

tag game!

get to know me

tagged by the wonderful @whollyjoly and the lovely @grumpy-liebgott

- name:

full name? Rie Adelasia Wilma Reallastnamewithheldforlegalreasons. my initials are rawr bitch

- pronouns:

she/her/hers

- star sign:

leo and idk anything else about it lmao

- # of siblings and fun facts about them (if you have any):

i have One! my stepbrother, who is Great. he's actually the one that got me into a lot of hbo war shows, bc he was a marine. he's Cool. walked me down my aisle at my wedding

- # of pets & their names:

i have. 10. two dogs: frankie and bellona. four cats: bean, owen, finn, and bear. and four guinea pigs: perdita, mei, meg, and piper

- fandoms:

a Lot, but most noticeably hbo war and btvs. relistening to the magnus archives, as well

- favorite color:

dark purple. because Space

- favorite song:

ENEMIES TO LOVERS BY JOSHUA KYAN AALAMPOUR BITCH

- favorite author (of anything readable - books, fanfics, zines, webtoons, whatever!):

it's a tie between fyodor dostoevsky and kate chopin tbh. i can't choose

- favorite fic type:

the Chronicled fic. the very long one. that's like an odyssey. obsessed w/ those dhasfjdsa

- Favorite Holiday:

christmas, but specifically things like la festa di san, santo stefano, AND my personal favorite, immacolata concezione :)

- Do you have a partner (romantic, qpr, anything!)?:

i am Wed to an Incredible Woman. lesbians for the WIN

- Hobbies:

i paint (poorly), write (poorlier), crochet and foster cats

- Fun facts about you:

i speak five languages. grew up in louisiana. have been told i have a Strange Accent bc of this. i got stabbed last week. we are moving from the far east to the west in like. a month. i have an md. what else

tagging (sorry if you've already been tagged lol): @lamialamia @dcyllom @frstcorinthians @almost-a-class-act @musicalfreak24601 @mutantmanifesto @murphybedard @ariesbilly and whoever else wants to do it

#rie talks #tag games

[vampire-himbos-of-santa-perdita]

My brain came up with the idea of mall rat vampires for The NovelTM, who are just teen vamps who live in the tunnels under the food court, who prey on folks ordering fast food by turning into literal rats and bite their ankles and... I can’t stop thinking about it. It’s The Lost Boys, only they have skateboards and loiter around the mall after hours this time.

#anyway i'm galaxy braining lately and you can't stop me #vampire himbos #The Vampires of Santa Perdita #sophie writes #am writing