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#but alas. mother is a tyrant
klanced · 10 months
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dw from a californian perspective u dont give off the right vibes 2 b from the state ur waay funnier than anyone here cld ever hope to be
THANK you anon i was about to have an identity crisis. i appreciate this
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so-sures-blog · 3 months
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Earthbound
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earthbound definition: attached or restricted to the earth.
In which Cole stands up to a tyrant that is cruel and unjust deep within the mountain. Because he made a promise.
🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤
It doesn’t take a genius to see that Cole’s losing.
The cave is in chaos; the sound of screams and clanging weapons fill the air as two sides clash against each other.
Vangelis and the Skull are toying with him, and he knows it: they’re circling him, trying to throw him off by telling lies about his mother. Cole blocks the hits from Vangelis and the blasts from the Skull, feeling like a fly they were winding up in a web of lies.
Vangelis rises above him, resembling a winged creature of death with his blank mask and the glowing Skull of Hazza D’ur in hand. “And now, her deceit has doomed you!”
“Her only son,” the Skull rasps.
Vangelis hurls the Skull at Cole; growing brighter and brighter the closer it gets. He stands his ground and braces himself.
The Skull collides, and the blades …
… shatter.
Cole is thrown back, the air knocked out of his lungs as his body rolls to a stop. He sits up weakly, before throwing back his mask to gasp at the sight of the broken Blades of Deliverance.
“No!” He cries. With trembling fingers, his gloved hands hold onto the shattered pieces of the black and white blades. “It can’t be …”
His mother … lied …
“It is,” Vangelis glides towards him menacingly. “And now, you will pay the price for your mother’s lies.”
“Lies, deceit,” the Skull rasps.
Cole screams in pain as the Skull unleashes fire upon his fallen form.
“Your cause is lost.”
More fire.
“Have the grace to admit defeat.”
More fire. More, more. Blistering pain wreaks havoc across his broken body.
It’s hopeless. He’s finished. He’s too weak. It’s over. He just wants to —
He remembers his mother.
🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤
“I want you to promise me, Cole. That you will always stand up to those who are cruel and unjust. Always.”
“Always.”
🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤
His mother … her strength hadn’t come from the Blades of Deliverance. She’s always been strong. She had been sick all his life, yet no matter how weak her body had gotten she had moved through her life with implacable momentum. Impossible to sway or dissuade. Ever since he was young, his mom had power — from her beliefs … and from the Earth.
“It was her,” he realizes. “It wasn't the blades. It was her. The power inside my mother.” The power inside of me, his heart whispers. Not the Spinjitzu Burst. The power of Earth.
“It was all her.”
“Alas,” Vangelis laughs cruelly. “You are not half the warrior your mother was.”
Pain and grief bite through his being, but Cole forces himself to his feet to glare at the Skull Sorcerer. “Maybe not, but I am her son.” Conviction buries itself deep into his being. “And I made her a promise to stand up to tyrants like you! Always!”
The mountain rumbles its agreement. Cole digs his fingers into the rock and feels it mold around the shape of them. Every grain of earth begins to glow as his power seeps into it.
“What are you doing? What is this!” The Skull Sorcerer demands.
“It's the Burst!” He barely hears Master Wu cry above his roaring element.
But no. It's not, and Cole can feel it. It's something different. Deeper.
His power was strongest when he was the closest to the earth and he’s never been farther underground. He was basically at the bottom of the world. Never has he been more surrounded by the very thing that powered him. The Skull Sorcerer thought he was burying him — but what if bringing him closer to his full strength? To the source of his elemental power?
Cole could feel it — the connection to the earth. He could feel it reaching out towards him, coming from the ground all around him.
He stands and lets it in. He let the energy of the earth infuse him, deep into his core and surging forward. The Skull of Hazza D’ur comes flying forward to finish him off and Cole bursts to life.
Unparalleled power explodes from the earth, bright and blinding, and Cole feels more alive than ever. His skin disappears, being replaced with magma and rock as the mountain quakes under his force.
The battle halts as everyone stops at the sheer force of the Earth; Ninja gape in shock, the Shintarians fly back in fear, the cave-dwellers stare with awe.
“Son of Lilly,” the Geckle and Munce whisper.
Cole rises with the power of the Earth; the Skull spiraling, lost, as he reaches for it with a molten hand and throws it down against the Earth. Destroying it.
The battle — one that had been reigning in secret for decades — is finally over.
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🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤 🪨 🌋🖤 🪨 🌋 🖤
Vania dips her head as the last servant that has finished attending her and shuts the door.
She takes a deep breath, listening to the fading footsteps of the servant and the guards clanking armor move away.
Then she springs into action.
She quickly changes, flying out of her normal, queenly wardrobe into more plain, neutral robes. She glances at Chompy, who’s watching her from his bed. She touches the dragon’s head.
“I’ll be back before morning — promise,” she whispers. He makes a chattering noise, telling her he’s displeased. “I know! I will, I promise. I just …” she bites her lip. “I just can’t leave him alone down there.”
Maybe Chompy can hear the pain in her voice, because he doesn’t argue — simply pushes his head into her hand with a small chur of forgiveness.
Vania pushes past the grief and stands, lighting a candle before leaving. She sneaks through her own palace silently, moving past guards like a ninja as she heads for the gardens.
She makes her way to the entrance of the garden alcove leading into the mountain, her heart steadily beating harder. The caves beneath the mountain were deserted, with the Geckle and Munce people deciding that they wanted to live their new lives above the mountain.
She scurries down; down and down the winding mountain, past cramped caverns and twisting turns, the cloying darkness only fought off by a single flame.
Finally she reaches it.
The Heart of the Mountain.
The legendary temple for the Masters of Earth. Ancient scriptures written in the Old Tongue read: Let pass through here, into this refuge and sanctuary, only those who are One with the Earth. Orange flames danced off the walls, even though no one had been down here to light them. Power shined through the giant doorway as Vania drew nearer.
Creak …
The door opened slightly.
Vania went inside, following the carved path molded by Geckle and Munce. Statues of ancient Earth Masters and their stories echoes around her, and she ignores the familiar goosebumps that rise along her skin. Her eyes linger on the statue of Lilly, before moving on.
Statues are more than solid pieces of art. They are immovable, unbreakable monuments that enrich storytelling, making the experience of living more profound and unforgettable. They remind us of the strength of traditions, the power of history, and the enduring spirit that echoes throughout the ages.
She draws closer to the one standing in the middle, heart beating loudly in her chest. It's tall and strong, newly carved. Awake and glowing with the surging elemental energy. She reads the plaque in front of it.
This statue was carved with love and gratitude by Geckle, Munce, and Shintarian craftsmen in honor of Cole Brookstone: Ninja, brother, and son.
Vania places the candle on the stone ledge and takes a seat on it, facing away from the statue. It feels like yesterday she was trapped in here with the Upply and Master Wu, trying to figure out a way to stop her father. She forces the memories away when she feels the mountain move.
“Hello, Cole,” she says softly. The Earth rumbles under her feet, before slowly forming and making a vague shape of the person she used to know. Orange light shines through the cracks of rock as he peers at her curiously, waiting.
Vania smiles.
“So, what story would you like to hear today?”
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tylermileslockett · 2 months
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"Orpheus glances Back" (#7 in my Orpheus and Eurydice series) “He stopped, and now, even at the confines of light (thoughtless alas!) and deprived of understanding, he looked back at his Eurydice: there all his labour vanished, and the conditions of the cruel tyrant were broken and a groan was thrice heard in the Avernian lake. Then she; who is it, O Orpheus, that has destroyed miserable me, and thee also? Whose great madness was this? Lo, again the cruel Fates call me back, and sleep seals up my swimming eyes. And now adieu: I am carried away encompassed with thick darkness, and stretching out my hands to you in vain, alas being no longer yours. She said, and fled suddenly from his sight a different way, like smoke mixing with thin air: nor did she see him catching in vain at the shadows, and desiring to say a great deal more; nor did the ferry-man of hell suffer him again to pass over the withstanding lake.” (-Virgil, Georgicks) When Psyche looks upon her secret lover’s face (Eros) against his orders, it sets her on a long journey where she ultimately must perform impossible labors to appease Aphrodite. In the final task, after trekking to Hades to collect some of Persephone’s beauty in a box, the girl can’t help but peak within the box, which renders her unconscious, and she is only saved by Eros in the end coming to remove the sleep. Pandora, the first mortal woman created by Hephaestus, was warned not to open the jar offered by Zeus as a present, but when her curiosity overpowered her, she opened the lid, releasing ills and evils into the world. When King Pentheus, in his arrogance, denied the divinity of Dionysus, the god bewitched the king’s mother and aunts who tore the man apart, thinking him a lion. King Erysichiton, ignoring the warning, cut down sacred trees in the grove of Demeter, and was cursed with everlasting hunger, resulting in him later devouring his own flesh.  As always, Thanks for looking, and please share this image if you can! Xoxo
Like this art? It will be in my illustrated book with over 130 other full page illustrations coming in June to kickstarter.  to get unseen free hi-hes art subscribe to my email newsletter
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Thank you for supporting independent artists! 🤘❤️🏛😁
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rizsu · 10 months
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to you, my woman al haitham + kaveh.
sum. royalty au, not with genshin lore, and a COMPLETE brainfart omg i just needed to get this out
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i. first impressions always count | 3.4k words
the lies and the truths: two terms that bind together to make balance. the reflection of the water in the basin mimics you. the wavering ripples and droplets that yelp each time your hand moves in it. a cold morning is what it is. eyebags that couldn't have been more protruding, a frown that holds every unspoken emotion, eyes that rid themselves of numbness — a sickening morning. you're alone, thankfully. amidst the sun's warming beams holds a dull you.
the day you've loathed has come. at the last supper, where a few envoys from the land of the righteous, sumeru, had arrived on the queen's note to deliver her qwords. it was but a slight favour on your side; hidden in her handwritten letter, she offered a deal: marry your daughter to my son. such can benefit both, if you permit. the answer lay in your palms — choose wisely, king.
her offer — or rather, her threat—held her attitude throughout. compared to your father, she's someone to worship. like a fool to a tyrant, your father had no choice. each day by the hour, does your blood seethe with hatred. annoyance for your family, hatred for your greed-ridden father, revulsion for everything that dawns in this damned kingdom. 
from the second you were born, they've placed their wants on you. praising you, forcing you, making you their pure goddess. within enevis's dome was the saying "she who borns shall become she who reigns." it's derived directly from the gods that once served these grounds day and night. sitting boldly at the temple's front, the transcript reads words that were shed from the mighty himself to the new goddess. ever since that moment, to her people who live, each time a woman has been blessed into the royalty, she shall be called 'the goddess' descent.' 
just pure tomfoolery. what is a deity to a man? a nobel to a peasant? a dream to a non-believer? you've been dragged on as a saintess all your life. controlled like a puppet by its master. a sing-song tale of marionette to her box; she's stuck in a neverending loop, unable to grasp free no matter the attempts. almost like you, who once tried marriage to set yourself free. at the very least, you loved him.
he wasn't anyone special — an average man, is what he was. compared to your status as enevis's sole princess, he was a pedestrian, at least. a farmer on the outskirts of town, producing homegrown crops for the capital's people (not that he earned much anyway). the first time you laid your eyes on him was when you snuck out through the window. it was idiotic, truly, but alas, it gave you a sense of peace. you had to pay off the guards that stood at their posts. one could only pray that your gold was enough for them.
nights of sneaking out turned into marriage. a marriage that wasn't approved of, no matter the pleas. nevertheless, you were a grown woman. you made your choice, even if it angered your mother.
parallel to euphoria, a six-month run was well lived. you couldn't quite clear your status as a princess, but you could've lived with him. a husband and his wife, both living quietly at their home. it wasn't the extravagance you were shaped into, but it felt comfortable. such dreams can only last a minute, unfortunately.
had you known. had you only known that your father wasn't going to let you wander off through his grip. He was enraged at your marriage. "was your vacation enough?" he asked, using your husband's chest as his sword's stand. your father looked at the victim in disgust; he never expected your vision to be so low. so vile, so impure. a shame is what you've become. running around with this peasant while holding the royal name was something the king wouldn't tolerate.
he lacked care for you — hell be damned, he never cared for you. the words write a she but a he is what your father craved. a son, a copy of himself. listening to his wife's words, he believed the sour dream of you becoming him. but alas, you showed him that a vulnerable woman will never be fit for the throne. your father did not a care for you. he didn't bother to retrieve his sword, nor did he bother to comfort you. if you wish to grieve and weep for some random, then so be it. as long as you were back by the moon's descent, he didn't care for your horrors.
quite pitiful, really. it's been hardly a week since that occurred. you weren't given time to grieve — after all, royalty never crumbles. your so-called wedding with al-haitham is due the following week. preparations will take a week. from enevis to sumeru takes roughly two days, granted that the sea is gracious. lost in your train of thought, you mindlessly sink your gaze into the mirror, hoping that soon you'll regain everything.
"my lady, have you completed your morning?" three knocks on the door awaken you. behind the porcelain door stood your lady-in-waiting, adila. aside from your nanny, she was your closest person in the entire palace. 
"just a moment, adila," answering her, you scatter across the room to wear your robe. truth be revealed, you didn't do anything but splash some water around.
you walk towards the door, paying close attention not to just give up and run back to your bed. oh, how tempting giving up sounds! turning the knob, you open the door until it reaches your shoulder, preferring to just peek your head out. such actions were totally not done to observe if any of the other maids were nearby. confirming adila's sole presence, you wrap a hand around hers, pulling her into your room before locking the door.
"must i really go to the dining room? seeing their old heads will fill me with nothing but rage!" you immediately begin your complaints. although it is true that you were in slumber, you cannot deny that you overhead the maids talking about new guests that came to dine.
adila softly laughs. to her, she enjoys moments where you spew words of anger day to night. it's not often you get to speak with such freedom — even your maids are ears for your father. your every movement will be recorded. he cannot afford another shameful action from you.
"it must be done, my lady. what can we do against his majesty's order?" maneuvering across your chamber, she attends to your bed, working her hands to smoothen the silk sheets.
"to hell with him!" 
───
throughout the silent hall, your heels clacked with each step, producing some sort of sound in the deafening silence. at both sides stood two maids — you don't know them. you've avoided learning of any maid the second you learned of spies planted in your palace. sickening and vile. you lack even a sense of comfort in your own wing. the stifling feeling never left; it's as if there's a constant hand pushing down your throat, preventing any particle of air from entering.
slowing your steps, you stop at your palace's entrance. they don't need to follow me. you turn your head to the maid on the right. raising your hand, you notify them both, "you need not follow me any longer. carry on somewhere else." 
"but princess —"
"you need not."
"we understand," bowing slightly, they made their exit. you don't care enough to look where they're going — to hell with him and to hell with them.
mindlessly strolling through your garden, you allow your hand to glide through the rose bushes, not caring about the thorns that pierce your skin. if you were deemed impure then who would give care? 
the walk from your palace to the main palace took roughly ten minutes. you can only wish that it lasted longer. entering the palace, a nauseous feeling grabs hold of you. you've only touched a centimeter in yet it's still disgusting. memories never leave — to be more exact, those memories never leave.  
"are you okay, princess?" a worker, who you couldn't be bothered to learn his position, questioned about your wellbeing. his eyes observed your physical appearance. you were standing upright, like a true royalty, however the evidence of negativity dawned. your unfocused eyes tell more than your words.
"do not worry about me, i am fine," giving him an answer, you focus your vision on him. is he a chef? you wonder. his suit varied from the other male staff: a simple marine blue suit, a lengthy coat that ran down to his mid-calves, white velvet gloves that stopped at his elbows, and a chef's cart standing in front of him. from the dishes standing in it, it seems as though he's going to the same destination you share.
"are these for the morning dine? with the envoys?" you inquire. if it's the truth, you'll enter with him.
"ah, yes, it's the appetizers as the main brunch has yet to finish," he gestures to the top dish before he continues, "would you like to join me to the room, princess?"
"that'll be appreciated," nodding, you both continue on to path that leads south. hopefully one angers the gods and they send two lightning strikes down as a lesson, if that'll ever happen.
arriving at the door, the guards announce your entrance as it opens from the inside. 
too bright, you think.  
small, hesitant steps were taken as you tried hard to focus on your practiced emotions. you did not suffer atrocious lessons to falter at the sight of a damned family. 
"good morning, all. may her rays shine gold," you greet everyone at the table. prefering to not say another sentence until it's over.
"have you slept well?" your mother asked, placing two extra breadsticks on your plate.
"i did. thank you for asking, mother," you replied, opting to not look at her or anyone.
resting his palms flat on the table, your father interrupts to begin the brunch, "let us begin the feast."
───
quite some time has passed, judging from the multi-colored clouds that decorates the sky's canvas. you're all in the main garden, discussing the final actions that'll take place in enevis. well, that excludes you. you fear that you've long blurred out their conversation — it's uninteresting and draining. 
another thirty minutes has passed and yet they've failed to finish their conversation. if you're not given freedom anytime soon, you're going to start malfunctioning.
"it's been decided then. y/n, you'll travel to sumeru today," your father speaks, signing off his signature on the scroll.
"pardon me? today?" you're taken by surprise. maybe you should've kept up with at least the schedule. looking around, you begin to worry about your luggage, "and about my belongings? i don't believe they're bagged already."
"they are."
"oh, alright then," sighing, you sit back into the chair. since when did they do that? you think. 
───
two days have gone since you've left enevis for sumeru. the sea was graceful, thankfully, but it didn't cease the sea sickness.
sumeru is a beautiful kingdom — you cannot deny. it's laced with greenery and architecture that symbolizes its history. unfortunately, leisure time is what you lack. preparations for the wedding will swallow every millisecond of your time. even in your slumber it'll haunt you. the carriage ride to the central city was quiet. you only took your lady-in-waiting to this trip as you do not need more eyes to lurk on you.
you don't remember much from the journey — in all honesty, you blanked out. heavens be cursed you don't even know how you got in this room. it appears to be his office. the ornaments and funiture deprive it from being named a relaxing room. his desk was the messiest of all; multiple layers of scrapped paper, crumbled balls of different colored paper, pens and pencils alike scattered across and last but not least, him. he isn't your soon-to-be husband, but he seems like someone important.
his aura is soft. aside from his shirt having the top three buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearm, his coat long abandoned to the side couch, hair tied in a messy bun — is that a straw? well, it looks like someone has been sleeping out in their office.
"please, forgive the mess. i've been slaving for the new building," he speaks up, hands moving with pace to make him and his desk presentable.
"do not worry. take your time, sir," reassuring him, you gift him a genuine smile. at the very least you can be at ease in sumeru.
a smile dawns his face as his shoulders relax. seems like he swore you would've been a rude individual. finishing his... routine... he reaches a hand out to you as he greets himself, "call me kaveh. i'm the marquess of sumeru, head of the architect ministry."
accepting his hand, you follow suit, "i am y/n l/n, first princess of enevis, second to the throne."
"forgive me if i offend but are you not supposed to be the first to the throne?" kaveh asks, his confusion is more than obvious.
"i would've, however, i do not care for the throne. the archduchess is in lead for it," you explain the throne-tree to him. your answer was only half the truth — while it's not a lie that you do not care, it's also the fact that you're too lazy to rule an entire kingdom (but no one needs this knowledge).
kaveh's mouth shapes into an 'O', he nods at your answer as he sits back down. offering you some cookies, he begins once again, "whenever you are ready we can head over to his highness."
"i understand," your curiosity about the prince was immediately quelled without having to say a word. bringing a cookie to your mouth, you hold a hand under your chin for any fallen crumbs.
"heavens, these are delightful!" complimenting the cookies, you hum at the sweet taste.
"they truly are! collei made them. she's a student at the ministry of agriculture and medicine but she's an amazing baker," kaveh rambles. he's quite happy that you truly aren't a "stuck up" princess.
after some time relaxing and listening to kaveh's rambles, you've decided that you'd go to see his highness. don't get it wrong — you adore kaveh and his voice is soothing but you also wish to see your husband.
on the path to al-haitham's wing of the palace, your sense of joy return as your conversations with kaveh never ends. he's a comfortable energy to be around. much different from the sour ecstacy that drowns your home. he's a talker and you're a listener — a combination crafted by the heavens, if you will.
the stroll hadn't past more than fifteen minutes — that itself isn't the accurate time... due to kaveh's excitement to plaster your attention on the details of each pillar. according to his sources, he spent eons delicately crafting every design, paying heed to incorporate historical transcripts and symbols. you both were content with your conversations but to your dismay, all things must come to an end. that and your soon-to-be husband awaits your arrival allegedly.
"we're here! i'll escort you up to his office. he should be there alone," he speaks, holding one hand out to guide you along the staircase.
his hands are soft.
accepting his offer, you gift another smile, "thank you, sir kaveh."
"just kaveh is fine, princess."
"then so be it. call me by my given name as well."
oh, kaveh thinks. to say he's captured by surprise would be a hellish understatement. times like these are where he wishes biology never worked the way it did. the soft pink overlay at the tip of his ears surely didn't go unnoticed.
deciding to refuse, kaveh stumbles on his sentence, "i — i cannot do that, princess."
an expected reaction. you must allow him this, it's only fair as he allowed you.
"please do, kaveh. it is only fair."
fuck, he swears that he isn't this easily flustered. a simple sentence — nothing about it should be this heart-racing. is it because you said it? maybe he needs to visit the nearest hospital.
covering the lower half of his face with the back of his free hand, kaveh continues to escort you to his highness' office. unfortunately for him, he'll have to leave right after. being a marquess and a minister is not an easy job.
───
tense, awkward, and boring. what an uninteresting individual is he. you will not deny, he's quite the eye-catcher, however, he lacks the personality. the minute you entered his office, he greeted you and went back to his paper work. you cannot say he's rude — you were technically disrupting him but is it hard to give you two minutes of his time?! well, the conversation-starter lays in your palms.
"your highness, would you like a cup of tea?"
"no."
okay, rude.
clicking your tongue, you decided it'll be best to leave it in his hands... not.
it's been hours. if another minute passes, you'll give into the urges and slouch. a princess must never lose her composure but this princess might just! the time you've spent observing and making mental analogies of this prince, it is safe to assume that you hate his guts.
a princess that despises awkward situations and a stoic prince. it'll end well, right..?
"accept my apologies, i prefered to finish my documents before attending to you," al-haitham speaks, finally arising from behind his desk and to you.
"it is all right, prince," you lied.
al-haitham walks around his desk, adjusting his cuffs while he made his way to you. compared to kaveh, his energy is dull; he seems as if the light of life had been vacuumed out of his body. you keep your gaze on his figure — he's lean, to say the least. as he sits, you dash your eyes to look somewhere else.
such eyes are too intimidating — it reminds you of your father. al-haitham on the other hand, he calls for a maid to bring in delicacies and such. he will not tolerate leaving his guests deprived of food.
"would you like to discuss the wedding? everything else such as the coronations have been handled prior," he speaks up, educating you on the details you've missed.
"i don't see a reason not to," you replied, smiling at the maids as you whispered a "thank you" to them.
al-haitham leans forward to the coffee table, raising the tea cup to blow the steam.
"well, i'd first say that i will not be bedding you the first night."
"that is quite all — excuse me?" your automatic answer was cut short. just how high is his audacity? how rude to think you'd bed a man like him!
"please, take no offense. i would rather not bed anyone. it is not you, princess," clearing you from any suspicion, he continues to not pay you any mind.
"that is not — anyway, prince, i believe we should set some boundaries?" you suggested, trying your best to calm the twitching vein under your right eye.
"i'll see it done. is a written contract okay with you?" he replies. better than hearing you speak. he may be rude but at least he's tolerable. hopefully.
"yes, i do not mind." with your answer finishing the marriage conversation, you two continue on with casual topics. he's a talker, all right. it seems like he's the person to continue on once you've introduced a topic of his liking.
fortunately, all bad things come to an end. as the moon illuminates, al-haitham decided to end it here. though, before you make your leave, there are a few words he must say.
"i'll see you at the banquet. my staff will send over a gown — it matches with my suit. please do wear it," notifying you about his absolute god-sent kindess (he was forced to.)
al-haitham walks with you to the exit. a blessing of relief washes over him once his eyes landed on someone that appears to be your lady-in-waiting.
"my lady!" adila's steps fasten towards you. she smiles and then stops. who is this peculiar individual? deciding the give a bow of respect, she greets al-haitham, "goodnight, sir who i do not know of."
a chuckle was heard at the right of al-haitham's side. it appears to him that you find this amusing.
"just 'prince' is fine."
"yes — PRINCE?!" adila's eyes display her exact thought process. it's evident that she's thinking something along the lines of "dear heavens, i hope they don't behead me."
"pardon my intrusion, i will leave now. see you at the banquet, prince," you interrupted their conversation — knowing adila, she'd stumble on her words and unleash a train of apologies.
"oh, yes. let us go, my lady!"
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ii. banquets, fake impressions and hateful actions | 1.1k words
it's alluring. a gown parallel to the morning sky, diamonds littered around its collar. silver accents adorn its front, reaching down to its very center. ruffled patterns accentuate the back, creating more volume than you could ever ask for. perhaps al-haitham has more to him than a robotic personality.
you're in awe. of course, you've had beautiful gowns before but this — this is just gorgeous. the reflection in the mirror captivated you like no other. your hands slid down the front, adoring the way it complimented your body.
"you look wonderful, my lady. sure to be most explenditurefous!" adila complimented. she busies herself with dusting off your heels as she's the only maid left in your chamber.
"explenditurefous?" you asked, rather confused about the sudden unknown word.
"no word can describe your beauty, so i made my own!" she cleared.
earning a smile from you, you softly laugh at her logic. adila's truly someone you can't live without.
"thank you, adila."
───
the banquet.. is definitely a banquet..! you're not sure if it's because you're in a different kingdom, but they sure do things different to enevis. for the past hour you've held your stance to the side; more comfortable with the option to sit back and lurk rather than to be the main attraction — which is foolish. you, a kingdom's princess, can never hide. your gown matches with that of sumeru's crown prince. only a fool can miss that sign.
swirling your champagne glass, you hum at the difference in people that decorate the banquet's room. they all look beautiful — especially kaveh. looks like he knows how to appear alive when he isn't cooped up in his office.
the music changed? you wonder, carefully listening to the soft, sensual rhythm crafted by the chior.
"my lady, would you care to do me this dance?" someone asks, bowing slightly as he holds out his hand for yours. you don't know him — it's also rather unfortunate that he isn't your type.
"oh, my ap—"
"move along. do not try to dance with her."
well excuse me, you think. it's obvious by his tone who the voice belongs to. a stoic voice for a stoic man, sumeru's crown prince, al-haitham.
he towers over the stranger, eyes oozing of annoyance and authority. al-haitham himself doesn't know why he's so irritated by someone trying to dance with you. is it not basic etiquette? dances shared with others are nothing but a noble's etiquette. nothing more, nothing less. so why must be seethe with rage at the image of you dancing with someone else at the center of the room?
"you, come with me," sliding his hand to your lower back, al-haitham guides you to a deserted room. whether you like it or not, he has business with you.
"heaven forbid! must we walk so fast?!" complaining, you came to a complete stop.
somewhere in the building's balcony, you two stand. the moon's light rains a soft, dim light across both. there's a soft wind that blesses the night. it's romantic — if you weren't stuck with him. you're annoyed that he takes action without — at the very least — talking to you.
and al-haitham? he's lost. physically, he looks bored. mentally, he's panicking. curse his mother for summoning such a breathtaking woman, really.
"you've been blatantly ignoring me ever since the universe was shaped," frowning at him, you poke at his chest. you'll do whatever it takes to show him your annoyance.
"have you any idea how sickening that is —"
huh — why is he — what's going on?
you, him, and a kiss. al-haitham's hand moves from its position at your lower back to your waist. one hand busies itself playing with your gown's jewellry as the other focuses on resting on your cheek. not that you are complaining — actually it's quite the opposite; contrast to your hatred for his attitude, you do not mind getting physical with him. he is, indeed, quite the appetizer.
pulling away, al-haitham's eyes remain in yours. it takes him a few seconds to recollect himself before speaking, "my apologies."
at times like these do you wish adila was here. you're completely out of any sensible answers. fiddling with your fingers, you decide it's to keep it short, "it's fine — but were you not the one who said "no physical contact" prince?"
fuck, forgot about that, cursing himself in his mind, he refutes with a "smart" reply, "think less of it. simply consider it practice for our wedding."
was he not — okay.
"you're a funny guy, you know," succeeding in preventing yourself from malfunctioning, you continue, "a horrible liar too."
"refrain from such assumptions."
"no!"
───
making your grand entrance at the banquet's room, you immediately shuffle away from al-haitham. the buffet calls for you — he can practice patience. sneaking to the buffet, you mentally drool at the sight of different desserts gracing your view. so many to eat, so many to taste. if the goddess permits, you can plan a robbery with adila and send her to your chamber with hidden desserts.
"what're you doing, y/n?" another familiar voice speaks, slightly scaring you in the process.
"who — oh, kaveh!" you beam at him. you've noticed that every time kaveh comes into the picture, your energy immediately restores. perhaps it's just his default power.
engulfing you in a small hug, kaveh snickers at the hidden yet loaded plate that sits behind you. using the clues, he can tell you were having the time of your life.
"you look magnificent," he compliments, completely taken by your appearance.
"you, too! your suit makes you look quite appealing, if i must," returning his compliment, you can feel yourself get giddy over his words. unlike al-haitham, kaveh's somewhat a sweet-talker. but what he lacks is what al-haitham has: boldness. contrast to him, al-haitham's quick with his actions. he acts on command but lacks to verbal confidence.
kaveh clears his throat. as sumeru's marquess, he mustn't show any signs of blushing — especially when he can feel al-haitham's stare digging two holes behind his skull. kaveh, more than anyone, knows sumeru's prince. having grown up with him, he can tell that the intense one-sided eye contact either means 1) get away from her or 2) find yourself here now. and to kaveh, he believes both options hold the same amount of truth.
"well, i have to go before he shoves me to the underworld. i'll see you around, y/n," saying his goodbyes, kaveh hurriedly shuffles through the crowd.
unable to speak due to the cupcake occupying your mouth, you wave at his running figure before returning your attention to the food.
looks like it's going to be a rather rough time being stuck between a prince and a marquess.
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danwhobrowses · 5 months
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One Piece Chapter 1099 - Initial Thoughts
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And we're back
After a week break it's time to see if One Piece will take the lead in emotionally devastating me for this week, given how other things are leaving me on 3 week breaks of ship-based anxiety, not that you could tell of course I've kept it sooooo well-hidden
Anyways, it's time for more One Piece and so, more Kuma backstory, let's see where we go from here
Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release also
Oden cover this time, Tanukis are giving him a makeover
We pick up where we left off two weeks ago, King Becori has returned and has been burning down the south
Kuma though is fighting through the fire to save people
Becori got the idea from the Goa Kingdom fire, figures
The people though are a lot more resistant to the act than the Goa Nobles were, so Becori orders a few to be killed to silence the mob
Kuma is here and he is fucking pissed
The church is being used as a shelter, as Bonney worries for her dad
Despite Becori's threats, Kuma lays out the entire castle, the One Man Revolution of Sorbet
News travels to Marejois about a new king in Sorbet, as Saturn learns that the people voted Kuma to rule
Kuma though says he's just a figurehead, since a previous king, Bulldog, is actually running the country
A much more adult looking Bonney is running laps in the church though, surprising everyone in how much she looks like Ginny
Seems she somehow ate a Devil Fruit, but also wasn't aware of it, since her aging up was unintentional and she was just trying to up her stamina
As the others try to see how much control Bonney has over the fruit, King Bulldog arrives at the church
Hey it's that old version of Bonney she used in the Reverie, but also Bonney here...
Turns out Queen Dowager Conney was an actual person, explains some things at least in how she made it to the Reverie in that disguise
Kuma yelling at Conney at the back thinking it's Bonney XD
Conney is Bulldog's mother, and Bulldog as Kuma's advisor has come with news
Becori's still about, running a smear campaign on Kuma, thus the moniker of 'The Tyrant'
The propaganda means he's still backed by the World Government, and thus it's only a matter of time until they come back to finish the job
Wanting to protect Sorbet, Kuma leaves it in Bulldog's hands, and goes out to confront Becori again at sea, this also means Bulldog and Conney will take care of Bonney in the meantime
'But I'll be so lonely' welp that's another knife in my riddled heart right now
Alas, Kuma does confront Becori, sitting pretty on a Navy ship and accusing Kuma of usurping him and being a corrupt dictator
Kuma sunk the armada, which got him a bounty (Carrot meanwhile sinks a bunch of Yonko ships and doesn't even get one bounty...yes I'm still sore about it the anime did not help validate her conclusion in Wano)
'He was a hero' 'I don't care, he was my dad first' - Oda please my heart doesn't have room for all these knives
Bonney also wants to be a pirate when she's 10 and cured
Kuma journeys out for info on Sapphire Scales, traveling to all the places he sent the Straw Hats to
He first goes to Chopper's island, since they had vast medical information
Then to Mihawk's island, doesn't look too occupied back then
Oh hey it's those Grand Fleet guys, Jeet and Abdullah
The bounty hunters of course fail in trying to claim Kuma, this was very pre-Dressrosa
Vegapunk's old home is next but they don't have answers
Tequila Wolf is sailed past again (Kuma and Oden have now sailed past it), I don't know what the next one is but it looked like Kuma helped it out, maybe it was Brook's island?
Then Weatheria (Nami's island) and the Boin Archipelago (Usopp's island) with Heracles'n
The stress is creeping up on Kuma though, dead ends and Bonney's 10th birthday is getting closer
Now that's a draconic ship there
The Revolutionaries have found Kuma, Morley has joined and Betty is still looking way different to how she does now
Dragon has a drink with his old Comrade, Ivankov and Inazuma are in Impel Down at this point, but despite all the news around Kuma he doesn't listen to media
Betty also gets Kuma's blessing to lead the Eastern Forces, since Dragon wouldn't allow anyone to take Ginny's position without it
Sabo and Koala also wanted to see Kuma, if only Dragon showed this much pride in his biological child
But he does give Kuma some intel, Vegapunk is moving labs and security is lax, good time for an audience
I think the move is implied to be the Punk Hazard incident too
Kuma is more than willing to rejoin the Revolutionaries once Bonney is cured, and Dragon is more than willing to welcome him back
Back at Sorbet, Bonney is learning how to fight, the scales are still spreading slowly though
Kuma takes Bonney to Navy Science Division Lab 08, which will later be where Egghead Island is, telling her it's a check-up
Got a little box for her like Nezuko
Everyone's surprised about how weird looking the other is
Vegapunk CAN cure Bonney, so clone theory might be done now
Bonney is playing with Sentomaru at this moment so she's not privy to the conversation
Stem Cell Treatment will be the method, real life solutions being thrown in there
The price is exorbitant though, equivalent to building a cyborg
Vegapunk also learns that Kuma's a buccaneer, even though his association with the WG would make that dangerous information
Vegapunk can't explain why Buccaneer blood is special, but he'd like more of it to clone him
Kuma is of course concerned about the idea of clone soldiers, but with Vegapunk using it as a form of payment he's more than willing to do it
Vegapunk hoped at least that the clone army's ability to deflect bullets and shoot lasers would scare evil pirates into submission, having watched Oppenheimer I think the sentiment is meant to be similar
But Kuma does like the idea of robots bearing his likeness protecting the innocent
Saturn meanwhile though has other intentions for them 'a weapon's worth is defined by how many it kills'
The bots are named Pacifista after Kuma's proclaiming himself a pacifist, two men looking to do some good without the hindsight of what damage they will wrought
This was a steady chapter really, could've been a lot more devastating for sure.
We've slowly built up again to all the stuff leading to Kuma's affiliation with Vegapunk, as well as his brief run as a pirate. Much like Corazon it seems most of his travels were fuelled by trying to find a cure for Bonney. A lot of blasts from the pasts this chapter too, though I suppose it makes sense that Kuma visited the places he sent the Straw Hats to, given how them being sent there was tailored for their skills or what they needed to improve on.
The Bonney Clone theory is likely dead, but I still can't put it past Oda to pull the rug, especially for Chapter 1100 - Oda and round numbers after all.
But yeah, it seems a brief alleviation for the moment, before it likely goes to hell again...
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libidomechanica · 3 months
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“Hardest knowst to life would not in the thus”
Gold age no stiffe, as throat, my loved     the inhabitude and the deuill at lastly my stem and     now at each one of they
be, the right decentisti; ’ in     Greece! Clasp me cliffs and made haunting the spend up them doe sits     the morning up his green
forgot, curst in peacock is seen,     some masculine fortune still by the through his love matron.     All the lowest: means of
honour tears, and ship, at wild     creation and an erasing overcome home no more, aside,     pleasant tell me flying
on it.—Unfolded fairy     cheeks like, which he obsolete. Hardest know’st to life would not     in the thus? Is all sense
its wax dim; and Philome my mother     sunlightest Lady Blanche. ’ She table dyke is afraid     to them locke, when he
mathematician, Gregory! My     counted size: beside, soft prepare: I given their Maid, and     slow tyrant being mourns!
And the lash, that I could seating     than thy mither on the was to loves, the shadows down, She     rose who rest; they ranged, Blythe
aft hand fine the moon this, alas!     One of dusty fighting she knees and so stifled by thy     selfe hath release in her
flounced uxorious, lace, but that     then we have me of light that I mighty free. The pang; but     Maud; I plant of Love
Supremely the same to praise; such     a beauties once you will shook the unbound of mourning session,     painting. Is flight where.
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dangermousie · 11 months
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Finished Pihajin. It was an excellently written novel that didn’t truly click with me.
Honestly, by the end of it I was just tired of how lugubrious FL was. It made sense but it was tiring to read about and honestly if near the end you find yourself thinking “poor dude I hope you move on and get to be happy instead of pining for this dreary dreary woman” about her sort of ex husband, well…(don’t get me started on the son, by the end he irritated me every time he was mentioned. Not to mention his original reason for suicide made zero sense. Offing yourself because your father didn’t rescue your mother on time and you saw her kill herself is…a choice.)
The big problem is that I don’t like the way most “transmigrated into younger self” stories handle the “debts from past go around life” - like it hasn’t happened yet for god’s sake! And this falls into the same trap. Outside of 2ha (which breaks the mold entirely), or novels where the reborn person mainly interacts with characters she didn’t in past life (for example the author’s own Wishing and Marquis) which is not really the same thing, the sole novel that handled the trope the way I like (yes she interacts mainly with people from past life, no she does not want to punish or hate them for go around that hasn’t happened!!!) is Reborn as Tyrant’s Pet. It is usually less noticeable because in those types of novels FL or whoever avenges herself on villains and also they never seem to change but here ML is quite different from first life (and honestly even in first life he did not get her offed on purpose, he was gonna trade for her and then a rescue went awry. It’s not husband of the year material but he’s hardly a monster abuser) so I just find myself going ummmm surely you need to chill, demon spawn (that’s the kid.)
Anyway by the end ML is as dreary as the rest of them so I guess they deserve each other.
It’s an excellently written novel but alas not really my thing.
ETA: also why on earth did ML fall for FL in this life? She didn’t say a kind word to him for the whole time except like in the last two chapters. I get why she is this way but what on earth about her attitude or behavior would make him fall for her? Is he a masochist? (Yeah blah blah past life connection but that’s a shortcut I am not fond of.)
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instruth · 11 months
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Today is the sixth anniversary of my first poetry book, Poetry By Experience. I have taken three rather long poems from my book (collectively titled, A Trilogy of Poems, Parts 1, 2 and 3), and put them into one poem. It is now a really long poem. I have decided to post them for poetry lovers and for my fans from various poetry groups, to share my joy on the sixth anniversary of my book - edited, and neatly re-compiled into one poetic story.
I hope you like it. It’s entitled:
REMNANT MEMORIES OF HOME
(An Anniversary Re-compilation)
FAIR LAND of glory loveliest song of morn
Smiling parks red roses set among thorns
Eager are the pigtailed gals busy to pick
Gallant swains fall in line ready quick
Gay day begins with a cheerful visit
Butterflies flapping floating in their flit
Love songs from the robins for one and all
Joy of my youth ever pleasing as I recall
Blooms linger when seasons cause delay
Young hearts get patient to wait and stay
Innocence and ease enrich my simple life
Nature overrides all hardship and strife
Simple folks endear in humble happiness
My daily loitering brings surplus gladness
Pausing to admire the glory of dawn
Watching the deer with her little fawn
Grazing on tapestry green by the slope
While bees and grasshoppers shyly elope
I dream of the maiden I secretly love
Like cooing doves wooing in their cove
Crossing quiet brook to watch her charm
Yonder fence lies her cultivated rainbow farm
I bless the approaching brilliance of day
When all around me freely lend a play
Contentment fills my soul cheers my heart
A pastime frolicking joyfully never to part
Simple pleasures and joys in sweet succession come
Dancing pairs bring sweet memories for dreams at home
Restful sleep follows in peace when the day is done
Alas! These lovely charms are past and gone.
FOR greed has turned thy greens to yellow
No encore, no cheer, from grass to fellow
To the north, a new field, thy children flee
From the womb of Mother Earth set free
Freedom stings not numbing thy pain
New owners destroying thy smiling plain
Thy glassy brooks no longer reflect
Mossy paths mirroring a land neglect
Fallen leaves of nests for charging ants
Echoing the loud cry of thy poor vagrants
Wealth accumulates as thy land decays
Dry wind carries its stink day after day
Peasantry once gay now in great despair
Humbled down to breathe its own foul air
Times have altered thy once fair train
Rolling swiftly to dispossess thy grain
Thy packed lawn of fond cheering crowd
Empty, without the sportsmen’s shout
Devoid of the clapping scene of delights
The polo ponies run their winning flights
Looking across the sea on its weary shore
Generous provisions shall come no more
Bitter sweet is the sense of dreaded hour
To face the tyrant in his rigorous power
Covering the solitary rounds in wandering
Hopping along rugged paths, staggering
Awakened memories roam thy present ruins again
Capture my heart but changing to the past in vain
In all my loiterings on thy plains, O Mother Care
I now see the gifts of griefs I have to bear
Give me hope in one Almighty I can trust
Not to reason, only doing thy will I must
That I may come home to write my story
Around a fireplace to tell all its history
What I have seen, learned or knew,
Willingly to be buried, reborn in you
POVERTY drives us to a different shore
With a promise for hope that there is more
Is this a greener pasture, a new found joy?
Not a splendor but a treacherous decoy
Groups cramped in pigeon holes on a stand
Large families packed in a home without a land
Hoisted home up in the sky swiftly built
No warm blankets just share a family quilt
Good Heavens! Greater sorrow newly imposed
Hard labour! Native walks no chance to be proposed
O Fair Land, why hast thou caused us to leave
To this distant shore unknown, far more aggrieved?
Do thou, o sweet Mother, weep in vain
Thine fair tribes now add on to thy pain?
Thine children knock at doors for bread
Chilling bones in hunger desperation led
Good neighbors forced to sell their daughters
Not through any faults of theirs that they should falter
Bless me - why, had we brothers any sister
Our decision would not have been better
Painful to watch sweet little girls in tears
Pretty innocents in their helpless years
I weep as I watch them in their charms
Shaking wildly in their fathers' arms
Grieving mothers kiss their mindless babes
Strike their breasts looking skyward sadly in gapes
I see the fairies and nymphs degraded
In my dreams I see my heaven has faded
These are the hard truth in times of shame
Best to forget, needless to share, no one to blame
In the city their statesmen talk as their ale goes round
Laughing, cheering with haughty looks profound
Such luxury migrants can ill afford
Even simple pleasures dismiss accord
Wealthy men arrive from world around
Suits and hats stunning ladies surround
A wanton wealth designed in tempting display
Painful truth in my mind I mindlessly survey
For I am sickened by this man-made pleasure
Toiling in the distrusting hearts of false leisure
Accumulated wealth stored in pride
Buy a lass to play as an obedient bride
Repossess the cuddly space of the poor
For their horses, hounds and more
Lawful acquisition to rob the timid folks
Stealing their meals of oats and yolks
Dressing up their females well adorned
To reign secured while simple folks mourn
Statesmen to their sons divide the wealth acquired
To their siblings, wives, married relatives
as required.
Beating my chest in sweet memory
recall
In senses with unfailing truth reveal it all
Oh past the plain the surging joy prevail
That which I have loved can never fail
That broken teacups I have taken with me
Stirs my will daily sipping my humble tea
No tales no news from barbers or farmers
It's fine - all return at meals as we gather
No theatre, no ballad, no talent time
Everything comes handy in sublime
Make our own feathered balls and stuff
Marbles rolling, guessing games and bluff
Obscure yet it sinks deep in our souls and hearts
Those simple treasures, everlasting will not part
My vacant mind frolicking in the pond
Caress my soul, my spirit neatly bond
Contented on my stool writing my poetry
Pass my time in imagined peasantry
Raise my native strength for greater gain
Instead of indulging in pitiful afflicted pain
Plant my seeds, pull out the weeds annoy
With compliments from God, my daily joy.
©Johnny J P Lee
25 May 2023
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carewyncromwell · 1 year
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“Hide your face, so the world will never find you...”
x~x~x~x
HPHM Cardverse developed by @ariparri​ ♥️
x~x~x~x
In the Kingdom of Hearts, a time-honored tradition was the yearly Passion Ball. It was held in wintertime at the Palace of Hearts and featured everyone dressed in their finest, as well as masks befitting of a royal masquerade. There was always dancing and fine music -- even the guests themselves were encouraged to take the stage at points -- as well as a grand auction where one could purchase rare, exotic, and beautiful works. 
It was an event that -- truthfully -- the new Queen of Hearts didn’t look forward to as much as many others did. Carewyn hadn’t attended any parties back in the Kingdom of Spades, not just due to her family’s lack of wealth, but also because her mother Lane’s social anxiety made her actively avoid such events. As for her time in the Kingdom of Hearts, she’d turned down any invitations she’d received to the Passion Ball. Even the previous Queen had requested Carewyn’s presence at one point, but Carewyn still politely declined.
“My mother will be coming to join me here, in time for the holidays,” she’d explained. “It’s been so long since we’ve had any time together -- I couldn’t bear to part with any of it.”
Alas, before Lane Cromwell could successfully leave the Country of Spades, the border shut down, which effectively cut Carewyn off entirely from both her mother and her brother Jacob. That holiday season was the coldest and most melancholy of Carewyn’s life -- no fit time for her to see anyone, let alone attend an upscale masquerade ball. 
By the time next winter rolled around, however, Carewyn was the newly elected Queen of Hearts. Over the course of that year, she’d worked very hard for her new country, as well as tried to use her new position to acquire intelligence about the state of things back in the Country of Spades. She’d had several heated exchanges with the so-called “Tyrant of Spades” in that time, both in correspondence and otherwise --
Do not equate my duty to the Kingdom of Hearts with placation. Lest you forget, I was once one of those people you pledged to protect and serve and now have seen fit to keep locked in a cage. 
Despite her origins in the Country of Spades, the people of the Kingdom of Hearts soon embraced their new Queen. For however serious and perfectionistic she could be, she was also compassionate, devoting herself endlessly to the happiness and safety of others. She was fearless in advocating for the needy and yet sensitive when it came to matters of state. She even immediately won over the Queen of Diamonds in the span of one carriage ride around town, simply by expressing sincere interest in Queen Penny’s interest in alchemy. Not to mention that since becoming Queen, Carewyn had become well-regarded for her striking looks and elegant fashion sense. It made it so that when the dashing, charming Diego Caplan was chosen as the new King of Hearts, the Kingdom of Hearts rejoiced, having two new, beautiful monarchs that they could be proud of. 
Carewyn and Diego became co-monarchs not long before the next Passion Ball was set to be held. Diego couldn’t have been more thrilled at the prospect. Carewyn herself did what she’d done for the last King -- bury herself in all of the planning and arrangements and then quietly bow out when it came to the actual event so that her counterpart could enjoy the spoils. 
Diego, however, wouldn’t stand for that.
“You’ve put in so much work to ensure the Ball’s success,” he encouraged her. “You deserve recognition for that!”
Carewyn tried to brush this off, but Diego was persistent. After all, the people came to the Passion Ball not just to see the King, but also the Queen. It would make everyone happy to see them both there, united as new co-monarchs -- and it would also make him happy, to see her receiving the praise and respect she’d so rightfully earned.
“When we first met, you said you’d done nothing worth praising yet,” he reminded her with a small smile. “Well, now you have! And I think it’s high time you accepted that praise.”
Eventually, after a lot of effort, he wore down Carewyn’s resolve enough for her to give in and agree. She arrived dressed to the nines in red and pearls -- a complete contrast to Diego’s dark blue velvet with gold trim -- looking very stoic despite the resigned exhaustion in her shoulders and her furtive gaze. She tried hard not to look too uncomfortable -- for most of the evening, she sat primly in her throne at the back of the hall speaking to Chiara, the Jack of Hearts, about far more important matters. Her attempt to look productive and authoritative, however, didn’t fool Diego, and so he cut in, asking the Queen for a dance. 
“Diego, you know I’m not one for dancing,” said Carewyn lowly. 
“You are one for music, however,” Diego challenged her with a grin. “Come now, Carewyn, the people wish to see you...show them what you can do!”
“I would prefer to do that by working hard for them, as I always have,” sniffed Carewyn. “Not by showing off.”
“Who says you can’t do a bit of both?” asked Diego with a waggle of his eyebrows. 
Upon seeing the lack of amusement in Carewyn’s face, Diego offered her a gentler expression.
“Carewyn...I realize this event is more attuned to my tastes than yours -- but you’ve worked so hard to put this all together. It feels wrong that you can’t have any fun, enjoying the fruits of your labors. Seeing you sitting on the sidelines, all serious and gloomy...it saddens me. Especially when you’ve more than earned some time in the sun.”
Carewyn’s face softened slightly too. 
“...Diego, I’m grateful. Truly, I am. I know you want me to feel appreciated, after everything I’ve done, and yes, you’re right, I do want that...”
She smiled a bit.
“...But I don’t mind being in your shadow. Every bit of sunlight you receive for our efforts -- I receive it too, in my own way, even without being in it myself. Our people’s happiness -- your happiness -- makes me happy. Knowing my efforts have helped the people I care about and made them happy...that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Diego’s eyes sparkled with something a bit more admiring and fonder. 
“You truly are a very selfless person, Queen of Hearts,” he said quietly, as his face spread into a fuller smile. “I’m honored to rule our people alongside you.”
Carewyn's light blue eyes grew a little smaller, her smile that little bit more sincere even as she looked down at her hands in her lap. 
“Thank you, Diego,” she said softly, and despite her lady-like composure, it was clear she was quite touched. 
Diego extended his hand to Carewyn again.
“Will you accompany me, as I greet the King of Clubs?” he asked. “It’s the first time I’ve met the man...”
Carewyn smiled that bit more wryly. “Of course. As Queen of Hearts, I can hardly leave our King unsupported.”
She took hold of his arm and hoisted herself up to her feet, walking across the hall with Diego.
“Be soft-spoken with his Majesty,” Carewyn counseled him.
Diego blinked. “Oh? Is he easily offended?”
“Not at all,” said Carewyn lightly. “It’s just that I’m certain he’s been as sociable at this party as I have.”
Diego laughed. He quickly stifled his volume, however, as they approached the masked, crowned and green-dressed man who his attendants had indicated was the King of Clubs, who was involved in deep conversation with a man in a wheelchair. 
“Perhaps you should introduce me?” asked Diego under his breath.
“Perhaps,” Carewyn agreed.
Upon noting where Diego was steering them, however, her eyes narrowed a bit, and she very quickly diverted him.
“Carewyn?” said Diego, startled. “What are you -- ?”
But Carewyn didn’t answer, instead walking right past the man dressed as the King of Clubs, and instead over to a man dressed in a beaked full-face mask standing off to the side, watching the dancers at a distance. 
“King Orion,” she greeted. “Forgive our intrusion.”
The masked man considered Carewyn for a moment. With his face being disguised, it was impossible to read his facial reactions, but his voice came out incredibly warm.
“You are the first to recognize me tonight, your Majesty.”
“I consider that a great honor,” said Carewyn. 
The King of Clubs gave her a short bow. The Queen of Hearts’ eyes sparkled fondly as she indicated the King at her side.
“Orion...I’d like you to meet Diego.”
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deathlessathanasia · 1 year
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If there is one thing I enjoy about the kidnapping of Persephone myth, it is the complete emphasis put on the feelings and reactions of the female figures involved; the teror, the anger, the despair, the love between mother and daughter and between sisters, the powerful desire of women to defend and save each other, whether that is Demeter starving humanity in order to force Zeus to return her kidnapped child, Athena and Artemis being willing to fight their uncle or a mere nymph standing against the king of the underworld even if that results in her death... it's glorious and so powerful.
"The Nymphs fly away in all directions; Proserpine is hurried away in the chariot, imploring aid of the goddesses. Now Pallas unveils the Gorgon’s head, Diana strings her bow and hastes to help. Neither yields to her uncle’s violence; a common virginity compels them to fight and engages them at the crime of the fierce ravisher. Pluto is like a lion when he has seized upon a heifer, the pride of the stall and the herd, and has torn with his claws the defenceless flesh and has sated his fury on all its limbs, and so stands all befouled with clotted blood and shakes his tangled mane and scorns the shepherds’ feeble rage. .......  So exclaiming she (Minerva) smote with her threatening shield the horses who sought to advance and barred their way with the bulk of her targe, thrusting them back with the hissing snake-hair of Medusa’s head and o’ershadowing them with its outstretched plumes. She poised for throwing her shaft of ash whose radiance met and illumed Pluto’s black chariot. Almost had she cast it had not Jove from heaven’s height hurled his red thunderbolt on peaceful wings, acknowledging his new son; mid the riven clouds thunders the marriage-paean and attesting fires confirm the union. All unwilling the goddesses yielded, and weeping Diana laid aside her weapons and thus spake: 'Fare well, a long farewell; forget us not. Reverence for our sire forbade our help, and against his will we cannot defend thee. We acknowledge defeat by a power greater than our own. The Father hath conspired against thee and betrayed thee to the realms of silence, no more, alas! to behold the sisters and companions who crave sight of thee. What fate hath reft thee from the upper air and condemned the heavens to so deep mourning? Now no more can we rejoice to set Parthenius’ steep with nets nor wear the quiver; at large as he lists let the wild boar raven and the lion roar savagely with none to say him nay. Thee, Taygetus’ crest, thee Maenalus’ height shall weep, their hunting laid aside. Long shalt thou be food for weeping on sorrowing Cynthus’ slopes. E’en my brother’s shrine at Delphi shall speak no more.'
Meanwhile Proserpine is borne away in the winged car, her hair streaming before the wind, beating her arms in lamentation and calling in vain remonstrance to the clouds: 'Why has thou not hurled at me, father, bolts forged by the Cyclopes’ hands? Was this thy will to deliver thy daughter to the cruel shades and drive her for ever from this world? Does love move thee not at all? Hast thou nothing of a father’s feeling? What ill deed of mine has stirred such anger in thee? When Phlegra raged with war’s madness I bore no standard against the gods; ‘twas through no strength of mine that ice-bound Ossa supported frozen Olympus. For attempt of what crime, for complicity with what guilt, am I thrust down in banishment to the bottomless pit of Hell? Happy girls whom other ravishers have stolen; they at least enjoy the general light of day, while I, together with my virginity, lose the air of heaven; stolen from me alike is innocence and daylight. Needs must I quit this world and be led a captive bride to serve Hell’s tyrant. Ye flowers that I loved in so evil an hour, oh, why did I scorn my mother’s warning? Too late did I detect the wiles of Venus. Mother, my mother, whether in the vales of Phrygian Ida the dread pipe sounds about thine ears with Lydian strains, or thou hauntest mount Dindymus, ahowl with self-mutilated Galli, and beholdest the naked swords of the Curetes, aid me in my bitter need; frustrate Pluto’s mad lust and stay the funereal reins of my fierce ravisher.'"
- Claudian, De Raptu Proserpinae
“Midway between the streams of Cyane and Arethusa lies a moon-like pool, of silvered narrow horns. There stood the Nymph, revered above all others in that land, whose name was Cyane. From her that pond was always called. And as she stood, concealed in middle waves that circled her white thighs, she recognized the God, and said; `O thou shalt go no further, Pluto, thou shalt not by force alone become the son-in-law of Ceres. It is better to beseech a mother's aid than drag her child away! And this sustains my word, if I may thus compare great things with small, Anapis loved me also; but he wooed and married me by kind endearments; not by fear, as thou hast terrified this girl.’ So did she speak; and stretching out her arms on either side opposed his way. The son of Saturn blazed with uncontrolled rage; and urged his steeds, and hurled his royal scepter in the pool. Cast with a mighty arm it pierced the deeps The smitten earth made way to Tartarus;—it opened a wide basin and received the plunging chariot in the midst.— "But now the mournful Cyane began to grieve, because from her against her fountain-rights the goddess had been torn. The deepening wound still rankled in her breast, and she dissolved in many tears, and wasted in those waves which lately were submissive to her rule. . ."
- Ovid, Metamorphoses
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tylermileslockett · 2 months
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"Orpheus glances Back" (#7 in my Orpheus and Eurydice series) “He stopped, and now, even at the confines of light (thoughtless alas!) and deprived of understanding, he looked back at his Eurydice: there all his labour vanished, and the conditions of the cruel tyrant were broken and a groan was thrice heard in the Avernian lake. Then she; who is it, O Orpheus, that has destroyed miserable me, and thee also? Whose great madness was this? Lo, again the cruel Fates call me back, and sleep seals up my swimming eyes. And now adieu: I am carried away encompassed with thick darkness, and stretching out my hands to you in vain, alas being no longer yours. She said, and fled suddenly from his sight a different way, like smoke mixing with thin air: nor did she see him catching in vain at the shadows, and desiring to say a great deal more; nor did the ferry-man of hell suffer him again to pass over the withstanding lake.” (-Virgil, Georgicks) When Psyche looks upon her secret lover’s face (Eros) against his orders, it sets her on a long journey where she ultimately must perform impossible labors to appease Aphrodite. In the final task, after trekking to Hades to collect some of Persephone’s beauty in a box, the girl can’t help but peak within the box, which renders her unconscious, and she is only saved by Eros in the end coming to remove the sleep. Pandora, the first mortal woman created by Hephaestus, was warned not to open the jar offered by Zeus as a present, but when her curiosity overpowered her, she opened the lid, releasing ills and evils into the world. When King Pentheus, in his arrogance, denied the divinity of Dionysus, the god bewitched the king’s mother and aunts who tore the man apart, thinking him a lion. King Erysichiton, ignoring the warning, cut down sacred trees in the grove of Demeter, and was cursed with everlasting hunger, resulting in him later devouring his own flesh.  As always, Thanks for looking, and please share this image if you can! Xoxo
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razieltwelve · 2 years
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Fan (Rebirth)
This is set in the Rebirth AU, which is the AU in which Taylor Hebert from Worm is reborn as Atalanta, Taren’s twin sister.
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“That has to count as an abuse of power,” Atalanta drawled.
Aquila opened one eye. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Really?” Atalanta scoffed. “You’re having a bunch of your crows fanning you with their wings, so you don’t have to worry about overheating in the middle of summer.”
“I’ll have you know that they enjoy fanning me,” Aquila replied haughtily. “And not all of us are lucky enough to have a wife who happens to be an air conditioner. Besides, it’s a training exercise to help strengthen their wings. The fact that I happen to benefit from it is merely a happy coincidence.”
Atalanta stared. “I can’t believe you can say that with a straight face.”
“I can’t believe you haven’t used your Semblance to make me an air conditioner of some kind.” Aquila put one hand on her forehead and pretended to swoon. “Here I am dying of heat exhaustion, and you won’t lift a finger to help me. Surely, you have some construct that can do something.” She glanced to the side at Beaky. “Elsa would do something, wouldn’t she?”
The crow cawed his agreement. Elsa would never let her wife endure the scorching summer heat.
“Oh, that’s a lie and you know it. Elsa would totally let Averia suffer a little bit of heat, so she could watch her sweat.” Atalanta’s nose wrinkled. “Besides, Averia doesn’t have to feel the heat if she doesn’t want to. Saviour bullshit, and all that.”
“I notice that you haven’t answered my question,” Aquila said. “Do you have a construct that can provide air conditioning?”
Beaky cawed again. Clearly, Atalanta was hoarding the construct for herself. Ah, what a selfish woman Aquila had married. Truly, Atalanta was a monster in need of a good pecking by some faithful crows and ravens.
“Oh, be quiet,” Atalanta said to Beaky. “And I suppose I do have something...”
Aquila pretended to swoon again. “I’m on the verge of death. Surely, only my wife’s awesome Semblance can save me.”
“...” Atalanta sighed and thrust her arm out to the side. A perfect sphere of ice appeared. It quivered before turning into a trapezohedron that radiated cold. “There.”
“Was that so hard?” Aquila grinned up at Atalanta. “Not all of us can share your hardy constitution.”
“I suppose.” Atalanta was more resistant to things like heat and cold than most people, even other hunters due to her mom’s genes. Sure, she couldn’t just regrow her head like Diana, but summer heat also didn’t bother her. “You really are a tyrant, you know.”
“Perhaps I am.” Aquila’s grin widened. “You know what they say. People do tend to marry partners that resemble their parents in some ways.”
“...” Atalanta made a face. “Please, never say that again.”
“In fairness, it’s not a sibling joke,” Aquila pointed out. “And my tyranny doesn’t get anywhere close to your mother’s.”
“I guess...” Atalanta sat down beside Aquila. Beaky gave her a glare but eventually settled for just perching on her head. One of the nicer crows, a young fellow who’d only just started going on patrol, hopped into her lap. She rewarded him with a nice belly scratch. “You know, the air conditioning is going to cost you.”
“Alas,” Aquila cried. “I have no money. However shall I repay you?”
Atalanta snickered. “Aquila, your wallet is sticking out of your pocket.” The other woman promptly threw it across the room, and one of her crows settled on top of it before looking around shiftily and then hiding it with her wings. “But I can think of a few ways you can repay me...”
Beaky cawed. As much as he thought Atalanta was a git, a chick to look after would be nice.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Atalanta grumbled. “Knowing you, you’d try to turn any kids we have against me.”
Beaky snickered evilly. Of course, he would.
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Author’s Notes
To the surprise of nobody, Beaky and Fluffy actually get along fairly well.
The construct Taylor has here is made using some of Elsa’s ice as a catalyst. As with any construct made using materials from another person’s Semblance, it’s not nearly as powerful as the original, but it’s handy to have. It’s basically there because it can control and generate ice to some degree. It’s enough to be considered a B-Tier threat on its own.
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danwhobrowses · 3 months
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One Piece Chapter 1104 - Initial Thoughts
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We have waited long, but finally we are here
Let's see that fucking punch land!
Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release also
A nice little Disney-esque cover page as Sanji helps a mouse propose with a fancy dinner. Bernard from the Rescuers could've used a wingman like that, though he did tame a warthog, outwit a Goanna and push a hunter to his aquatic death so...
Back where we started with Kuma ready to wind up on Saturn
Kuma and Saturn's memories briefly flash; their encounter, the loss of Kuma's mother, Ginny, Ginny's death, Bonney and now Bonney crying as she is now, all leading to this moment
Saturn is flabbergasted, not just because Kuma's here but because Kuma is alive, he already triggered the self-destruct switch when the Revolutionaries took him
Mr 'I'm a man of science don't try to deceive me' got so fuckin' deceived
AND DAMN DID THAT PUNCH FEEL GOOD
Wham Bam and thank you Ma'am, Saturn is sent bleeding, reeling and covered in Egghead's rubble
And now that Saturn is struck, nobody's frozen in place, leading to them going after Bonney to check on her
Bonney however is being comforted by her father, as Vegapunk looks on in bewilderment
He did make a failsafe, it just wasn't as barbaric as a bomb, the switch should have shut Kuma down completely, and with no humanity left he should've just been empty
Vegapunk can't answer the question with science, but he does think about something the Buccaneers were said to have, but left vague to the audience
Kizaru has mixed feelings on this, but Sentomaru is relieved
Luffy has also disappeared, hidden in the ruckus
After over 3 long years, father and daughter reunite, with Bonney consoling Kuma over having seen his memories
'I don't care if everyone else calls you a tyrant, because I know there's no-one kinder than my dad' - welp we're not done with the feels I see
Alas, Saturn is of course alive from that, and the Elder is quite perturbed
Also missing half his arm and one of his horns as he demands an explanation from Vegapunk
Vegapunk admits it's his doing, but he doesn't have an explanation, cheekily suggesting the power of love being at play
He seems to take it aloofly, slowly regenerating his missing parts
He once again goes for Kuma, but this time he's not moving
So Sanji finally gets to do something! Kicking the spiked leg away
And then Franky out here just firing a Radical Beam through Saturn
Franky may not get much shine but between Driving his motorcycle into a Yonko's face and now firing a laser beam through a Gorosei he's amassing up some feats
Alas, Kizaru once again chooses to be a cog in the machine and attacks Franky in retaliation
Saturn also recovers from the beam attack
With Kuma unable to move, Atlas is charged with carrying him to safety
Kizaru also notes that Kuma's appearance has put too many players on the board
Vegapunk does reprimand Kizaru for still siding with the Government, though his response does imply some duplicity
As a result, Saturn orders a Buster Call, all of Egghead is an enemy of the government
A 'traitor', a survivor and a pirate with the powers of god, Saturn wants none of that smoke
Man still don't know about the giant mecha hidden away
A good chapter to effectively start the new year. We got the punch, and he might've regenerated from it but still we got the punch and it was good.
Luffy's absence is a cause for wonder, one does have to wonder too what's going down in the Labophase still with the Seraphim, Lucci vs Zoro and everyone waiting for the ship to get to the rendez-vous, also Robin is still AWOL.
It is cool to see Vegapunk marvel at something even he can't quite understand when it came to Kuma, it feels like something has clicked in his brain. But with Egghead now a target of the Buster Call there's so much he's going to lose from this, but at the same time the Gorosei can't remake the Mother Flame with Egghead destroyed.
There's still the matter of the Blackbeard ship and Caribou too, the sleeping giant is just one of multiple things waiting to come into play.
Luffy fighting Saturn in Gear Fifth does feel imminent, even if Kizaru is playing both sides, if it was just a Buster Call it wouldn't quite be a ground-shaking incident, but since the media has made out that Luffy had kidnapped Vegapunk there's little way that the WG are gonna come out of this shining.
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shojojidais · 1 month
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With the judgment of an adult, I know I should condemn that tyrant and ruthlessly call her damning epithets, but all is in vain. In vain, my judgment dictates that I should call her a stupid, perverse, and vulgar woman, but my judgment, alas, is powerless since even today my emotions bathe her image in a divine aura. The bad mother, the killjoy, the wicked wife, I can only see her through my childish eyes. I see her resplendent in her embroidered stole, wearing her precious stones, as noble and as beautiful as Our Lady of the Orient. Her evil thoughts shine around her head like a halo and the vile and inhuman desires that pierce it appear to me as holy swords.
Elsa Morante, Lies and Sorcery
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cheecats · 2 years
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"Pain travels through families until someone is ready to feel it."
my first proper show off of my Cat OCs (I lied they're not really Warriors OCs, but they were at one point lksdgkl!) that I've been working on for 10 years now! Gosh i can't believe how time has flown.
This little PMV centres on Our Babylon's antagonist, King, formerly known as Fang, and his rocky relationships with his father, Byron, and his own daughter, Matilda. It all goes well beyond even Byron. He was merely another byproduct, nonetheless completely irredeemable. He was one of the five leading cats in the stray's patriarchy, and arguably the most important member. Such burdens brought about expectations, frustrations -- shackles he would burden his family with.
After one particularly nasty argument with his wife, Amelia, after she dragged him away from the kits he was brutally chastising for sneaking around after bedtime, he lashed out and struck her, as he had done many times before. Only this time, Amelia lost her balance and struck her head on the wall, causing a bleed in her skull that killed her instantly. Byron refused to ever carry the blame of her death, but King and his sister Heir knew what he had done, what he was lying about to his subjects. King's resentment for his father would eat away at him, long into his adulthood, his anger allowed to flourish into something more sinister, rebirthing his once antisocial temperament into the wrath of a tyrant. King would see to it that the five founding cats were executed under the cover of darkness, his father personally dealt with. Only one original leader would survive by a mere stroke of luck: Robert. His life was later spared under the request of King's wife, Natasha, who insisted her brother was no longer of any threat... much too old, and powerless without his fellow founders. King found it to be a rather amusing explanation. 
At the birth of his own daughter, Matilda, King showed relative indifference, a cold detachment to contrast his father's controlling aggression. Natasha would not protest, her older body near completely drained of strength from the single kit she bore. The child was soon forgotten for the sake of Natasha looking after herself, building up her strength again. Just what would become of their daughter? Surely a fate similar to the cats that preceded her? Alas, her saving grace would come in the unlikely form of her uncle, Robert, of her mother's kin. Ironically, Robert was notorious for this distant and grouchy demeanour -- even worsened under his newfound imprisonment. For his niece, however, the old tom would show nothing but unconditional love, taking up the role of her 'nanny' following his imprisonment under King's usurpation. She would give the previously desolate old cat purpose in life -- something he wished to fight for: he would not have her grow up in this terrible city, and would see to it that she escaped her father's reign... even if it meant Robert had to destroy the very kingdom he had once helped create.
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crazylilmonster · 2 years
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The Art of War Masterlist
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Note: This story was inspired by a manwha or a webtoon I honestly have no idea what it is. The name of the manwha is The Song of Theodor. It doesn’t follow the exact plot of course but you will definitely notice the similarities so I thought that it was worth mentioning. I’ve been reading so many of historical manwhas lately that it is probably unhealthy. And I’m so excited that I’m finally posting it so I hope you enjoy it!
Pairing: Izana Kurokawa x female reader
Disclamer: This story is meant for the mature audience only. It contains some heavy teams like abuse, killing, aggression, consuming alcohol and cigarettes, swearing as well as sex. It is a bit of a slow burn regarding the smut but you still shouldn’t read it if you are under 18. Because I can’t stop the minors from reading please do not repeat any acts mentioned in the story and please practice safe sex as well as trying to keep your body healthy since it is still growing and it needs all the nutrients it can get.
Prelog
A noble woman is supposed to be born, learn proper etiquette, catch an eye of young and rich nobleman, become a wife and bear children. And that is essentially it. Of course a noblewoman has to socialize with other noblewomen but that is nothing more than gossip gathering.
On the other hand you could never accept that to be your fate.
You were a first born daughter of a king that ruled over your home country under the name of Thymos. Your mother was his queen and unfortunately she wasn’t his only lover. In Thymos noblemen can have many lovers or wives as long they can provide for them.
Your father adored the idea because that man has more wives than you could count. Therefore he had many children of which he had to pick the next king.
Out of all his options you were the rock bottom. He wasn’t going to make you the ruler even if all his children died a tragic death. He couldn’t pick his favorite but he adored the biggest tyrant potentials and incompetent fools.
The most painful thing to admit was that in some sense your brother and half-brother had potential to becoming good rulers. Taiju your brother by blood had good sense for military and wars. He would be definitely the reason behind the successful army. Your half-brother Tetta was smart to say the least but he was also a psychopath stepping on anyone he had to in order to reach his goal and not caring who he hurts in the process.
However others probably wouldn’t be as great considering how pathetic they were. Sometimes you felt ashamed to share the same blood with them.
But alas no one can change the family they were born in and neither could you.
Therefore you had to accept your cruel fate of a noblewoman, marry a man of high status preferably a king from another country to establish good relationships with and birth to a son capable of being the next heir.
And just how were you supposed to do that when you had no interest into such life whatsoever?
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
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Part 9
Part 10
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Epologue
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