#so far this has been a magnificent first book to get into after not reading for years though

[stemmmm]

i started reading gideon the ninth (first fiction book i've read in a decade, and probably the first im reading by personal choice in even longer) and not five chapters in im like oooohhhhhhhhhhh THIS is why i wanted to go into storyboarding. when an image, a sequence of images, gets caught in your head that's so vivid that it's all you can do to get it out. a half-baked script you get paid to draw doesn't really cut it when you try to make it a job though

#m.txt #tlt #i picked it up half because the homestuck girlies have been raving about this series #and half bc i saw a fanart of harrow that made me think 'this character was designed in a factory to be my favorite' #i'll let you know how that goes tho bc again. not 5 chapters in lol #so far this has been a magnificent first book to get into after not reading for years though #bc the way the language can be so evocative in so few words is magic for my poor distracted brain #theres very little struggle to catch back up when i forget everything thats happened at the end of every paragraph #and this all says nothing of the characters so far. who are magnificent

[seonghrtz]

𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ✶ sukuna ryomen

꒰ true beauty ! ꒱ an arrogant prince falls under the spell of an enchantress, who turns him into the hideous four-armed beast until he learns to love and be loved in return.

❛❛ in the end, she was his salvation and his downfall ❜❜

pairing. prince!sukuna ryomen x (belle)fem!reader.

contents. the beauty and the beast alternative universe, fluff, slight angst, enemies to lovers (?), he fell first he fell harder, royal!au, sukuna true form as the beast, occ sukuna.

amy's note. hi sweetie, this is amy!!! this is the first story in the fairy tale series, starring sukuna ryomen in the beauty and the beast universe. initially i was going to put sukuna in the cinderella story, just because of the fandom memes (jjk x disney princess), but i think he as an arrogant beast who has never loved anything would make much more sense and fit in better. anyway, that's it, i hope you like it!!!

comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

𝕺𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, in a kingdom far away, there was a handsome young prince who lived in a magnificent castle, and even though he had everything he wanted, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and rude. But one winter night, in the middle of a storm, an old woman came to the castle and offered him a simple rose in exchange for shelter from the cold and rain. Disgusted by her ugliness, the prince scoffed at the offer and sent the old woman away. But she advised him not to be deceived by appearances because beauty lies within people and in their hearts, and when he sent her away again, she was transformed into a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, as she realized that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she turned him into a hideous four-armed monster and plagued the castle and everyone who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous appearance, the prince hid in the castle with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she offered was enchanted. It would bloom until the twenty-first year, if he learned to love someone and it was reciprocated by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be undone, otherwise he would be doomed to remain a monster forever. Over the years, he fell into despair and lost all hope. After all, who could love a monster?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ✶

The day began with a flurry of activity in the small village. Residents greeted each other as they went about their morning chores, and others opened their shops. Y/n, a beautiful young woman, made her way through the crowd with one goal in mind: to get to the village library. After buying some fresh bread and gathering the missing parts for her father's latest invention, the young woman made her way to the small library to return the book she had borrowed last week.

"Good morning, Mr. Higuruma." Y/n said as soon as she saw the man from the shop holding a pile of books. "I'm here to return the book I bought last week."

"Miss Y/n, good to see you again," the brunette said, placing the pile of dusty books on the table in the corner of the shop. "Unfortunately, the delivery of new books has been postponed until next week."

"Oh, no problem." Y/n approached the bookshelf, put the book she had picked up the week before back in its place, and ran her finger along the spines of the other books, looking for one in particular. "I think I'll take this one!" She took the book from the shelf and showed the cover to Higuruma, who just laughed.

"That must be the tenth time you've read that one."

"But this is the best book, certainly my favorite. Distant kingdoms, battles, and a princess who saves the prince. Sometimes, it's hard not to see myself as the protagonist. Living an adventure and finding her true love, something much bigger than life in the country.”

"Since you like this one so much, I'm giving it to you as a present."

"Mr. Higuruma, I can't accept that!" she looked at him, astonished at the idea, while the man in front of her just smiled.

"You're my most loyal customer. You've read all the books I have in the library. And maybe the only one with a real interest in reading."

"Thank you, that's very nice of you." Y/n smiled happily at the gift and the bookseller's gesture.

"You're welcome. Next time I'll have some new books for you!"

"Thank you, Mr. Higuruma!" Y/n waved, smiled, and left the shop. The young woman stared at the cover of the book, the worn blue leather and the worn gold lettering, it was a simple book, but with an extraordinary story behind its simplicity.

The young girl was so busy studying the book that she barely noticed Gaston's not-so-subtle appearance at her side.

"My beautiful lady!" Gaston said, thickening his voice and stopping in front of Y/n, preventing her from continuing on her way.

"Gaston..." she rolled her eyes and looked away from the book in her hands to the man in front of her.

"My beautiful Y/n, when are you going to realize that we are soul mates and forget about these books, which by the way have no figure, how can you like this so much?" He said, taking the object out of the girl's hands and giving her (or trying to give her) a gallant smile.

"Well, you just have to use your imagination while reading and I think you're reading the wrong signals about us," the girl took the book back and turned away from the man, "I have to go now, have a nice day, Gaston."

Y/n walked quickly back to her house, which was a short distance from the village. When she got home, she left the fresh bread on the breakfast table and picked up the tools her father had asked for before going down to where he was conducting his experiments and inventions.

"Dad? I brought what you asked for."

"Thank you, dear!" The girl's father came out from under the machine and took the object his daughter had offered him.

"Dad..."

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you think we'll live here for long?"

"Oh, dear, when I become a great inventor, we'll travel the world!" Her father stepped out from under his invention, ready to finally put it into action. "Let's hope it works, dear!"

As soon as the machine was turned on, the parts began to move and a sound was heard, the axe on top moved down and cut the wood on the bench.

"Dad! It works! Your machine works!" the young woman said excitedly.

"And the axe didn't fly away!"

"Dad, you're going to be a great inventor!" The young girl hugged the older man, finally her father's dream would come true and he would become a great inventor.

"Oh dear! I must run and pack my things to go to the city!" The old man said excitedly, pacing back and forth, "You don't mind being alone for a few days, my child?"

"Of course not, Dad. Go after your dreams." The young woman smiled openly and hugged her father once more. "Come, let's pack your things for the trip."

Together with her father, the girl went up to the house and helped him prepare the small suitcase along with some snacks for his trip to the city. Ever since they had moved to this small village in the countryside, her father had been working tirelessly on various inventions that had failed one after the other, causing his reputation as a madman to grow among the locals. However, she had seen him fail and never give up, that was his dream, to become a great inventor and help people with his inventions and there was nothing that would stop him until he managed to make his inventions work. And if his invention surprised the judges in the competition and managed to win first place, maybe Y/n would not have to settle for a life in the country while her father could work on his "crazy gadgets".

The young woman stroked the horse's copper-brown coat while her father checked the bag with some tools.

"Be careful on your way, Dad." Y/n hugged him and helped him onto his horse.

"I'll be back in a few days, don't worry about me!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶

The next day, Y/n awoke in high spirits, hoping that her father's trip to the city would be smooth and without danger. She put on a simple blue dress and headed for the kitchen, but before she could prepare breakfast, a knock on the door echoed through the house, along with a voice she knew well. On tiptoe, Y/n reached the door and looked through the peephole, seeing Gaston from an unfavorable angle.

"My dear Y/n! Are you home?" Gaston thickened his voice and puffed out his chest, even though no one could see him, "I have an offer you can't refuse!"

The young woman took a deep breath and opened the door with a fake smile on her lips. "Good morning, Gaston. Don't you think it's a little early for one of your proposals?"

"Oh, my beautiful lady, it's never too early for my irrefutable proposal!" Gaston said as he walked past Y/n and sat down in the dining room chair. "You know, my dear, I think you've noticed by now that I'm the best suitor in the village. It would be a shame for you to let me go. And lately, I've been thinking of certain ways to take our relationship a step further."

"Our relationsh–" The young woman's speech was interrupted by Gaston, who abruptly rose from his chair and spoke again.

"Think about it, a little house in the country, a small herd of cattle, a plantation, seven, no, ten children with my beautiful face, and you know what else I see?" Gaston looked at Y/n, but before she could answer, he continued, "My beautiful wife greeting me after a day's hunting.”

"You've been using your imagination a lot..." the young woman whispered to herself.

"And do you know who my wife is that I see in this beautiful future of mine?" Gaston approached the young woman, pressing her against the wall.

"How could I imagine?"

"It's you, my beautiful Y/n."

"Oh, Gaston!" Y/n held back the urge to make an expression of disgust at the scenario the man in front of her was describing, "I'm... flattered...? Yes, flattered by such affection, but I think this is wrong, you know, I think you've made a mistake.”

"How can I be wrong? You're the only one in this village whose beauty is on my level.”

"Beauty? Is that all you care about?" Y/n looked at him confused, she knew Gaston was shallow and self-centered, she just didn't get that he was trying to get her to marry him just because she was "the most beautiful girl in the village".

"And what else should I care about?"

"Well..." The young woman took a deep breath, "I think it's time for you to go... oh, I just heard Lefou say he's spotted a huge, fast deer that can't be caught!”

"A huge, fast deer that can't be caught?" Gaston's eyes widened. "Well, call your crazy father later so we can decide about our marriage."

"That won't be necessary because I'm not marrying you!" Y/n closed the door and locked it with all the locks her father had created. Ignoring Gaston's cry that she would be his one day, the young woman turned, leaned her back against the door, and slid to the floor.

Marry Gaston? It was a terrible nightmare. Not even if Gaston was the last person on earth would Y/n marry him. She had so much to do, so many places to explore, so many people to meet. And if she was going to get married, it certainly wouldn't be to someone as shallow as Gaston; she wanted someone who really liked her and her personality, not her looks.

The girl slowly got up, unlocked the door, and looked outside her house to see if the man had already left and wouldn't come back when he realized the huge deer was a lie. She did, however, notice a familiar copper brown horse galloping quickly toward her house.

"Phillipe?" She left the house, closing the door behind her, and walked toward the animal. "Where's my father, Phillipe?" The girl said, noticing her father's absence and the horse's exhilaration. "Phillipe, take me to my father, please!" Desperate to think of the worst that could happen to her father, the young woman pulled out the cart containing her father's invention and quickly mounted the horse, asking him to lead her down the path to where her father was. Phillipe raced through the dark paths of the forest, causing Y/n to shiver at the eeriness of the forest, while her mind wandered far away, worried about her father's current situation.

Phillipe began to slow down as a huge castle appeared on the horizon. It was so large and terrifying that it looked like something out of a horror book, though it seemed to blend into the desolate landscape around it. But perhaps what intrigued Y/n most was that she had never heard anyone in the village talk about the place ⸻ and it intrigued her even more because the castle didn't seem to be secret at all.

Y/n dismounted and looked around, trying to find the courage to open the gate in front of her. She would be lying to herself if she said she wasn't afraid of this dark, unknown place. But the important thing there wasn't to prove her courage, but to find out where her father was. The gate was cold and made a terrible noise when it opened, but that didn't stop her from continuing.

"Hello!" The young woman said loudly as she entered the castle. "Is anyone here?" She narrowed her eyes, trying to see in the pitch black, but quickly found a lit candelabra. "I'm sorry to barge in uninvited, but I just came to get my father! Please... help me find my father!" Y/n walked aimlessly through the castle, following only her faint intuition of where he might be. "Hello? Is anyone there?" She spotted a staircase that seemed to lead to the top of one of the castle's towers. "Dad, are you there?"

"Y/n, my daughter?" Her father's weak voice called out.

Quickly, Y/n left the chandelier on the stone near the wall and ran to her father, who was trapped. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"My dear daughter..." the girl's father coughed before continuing, "You must run before he arrests you too..." Before the girl could say anything, footsteps echoed through the room.

"Who's there?" She looked around for the person who had just entered the scene.

"I'm the one asking the questions, impertinent girl." The stranger's gruff voice sent a shiver of fear down the young woman's spine.

"Please let my father go!" The girl pleaded.

"I'm not in the mood for that."

"What? How can you be so cruel? Can't you see he's in bad health?"

"He should have thought twice before he broke into my castle."

"Please let him go! I promise we will never see each other again!"

"Empty promises. I'm not really interested in that."

"Then..." the young woman took a deep breath, "let me take his place."

"My daughter! Don't do this!" her father said with tears in his eyes. How could he lose his daughter right before his eyes.

"Things are getting more interesting..." the person in the darkness laughed. "A fair trade, the old flesh for the new... uh, I'll take that trade, impertinent girl."

Before Y/n could speak, her body was thrown into a cell. The young woman quickly approached the iron bars and watched as her father was brutally removed from where he lay. Her father screamed her name and tried to get away from the person, but it was impossible to escape.

In the darkness, the girl could see the castle owner's back. The broad shoulders were adorned with black lines that ran the length of his back and, most shocking to the young woman, the four muscular arms that protruded from the side of his body.

Y/n was not only the prisoner of a shady castle owner with a serious personality problem but also of a giant monster with four arms who could finish her off with a snap of his fingers.

Minutes later, the owner of the castle reappeared and abruptly opened the door to the cell Y/n was in. The girl looked up at him, her eyes watering, afraid of what might happen to her from this moment on.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to follow me?"

"Where are we going?" she asked confused and scared as she followed the four-armed man.

"The basement..." his voice came out loud and clear, making the young woman shudder. "Shall I take you to a room, or would you rather stay in the tower?"

The girl had no answer, just followed him through the dark corridors of the castle.

"What's your name?" Y/n asked without thinking and quickly pressed her lips together, regretting her sudden action.

"Dinner will be served at eight." He said, opening a door at the end of the corridor, "If you don't come, you won't eat."

"Do you want me to have dinner with you?" the young woman asked him incredulously.

"It's either that or starve to death. You're lucky I'm giving you a choice..." he rolled his (four) eyes.

"I'm not having dinner with you!”

"THEN STARVE!" The four-armed man shouted angrily, frightening the girl, and slammed the door with a loud bang.

The young woman stared at the door in front of her, feeling tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She began to feel overwhelmed and staggered to sit on the bed. She had lost the two most important things to her on the same day: her father and her freedom. Now, she would have to live with an arrogant and rude being. Slowly, she raised her trembling hands to her face and wiped away the hot tears.

"Who's there?" she asked, startled when she heard a knock at the door. The girl got up and opened the bedroom door to find nothing there. She breathed a sigh of relief, but was startled to see a pot of tea and a cup in front of the door. "Tea?"

"Hello, Miss!" The cup said smiling, startling the girl.

"Itadori, what did I say about scaring our guest?" The teapot said, rebuking the cup's attitude.

"I'm sorry, Nanamin, and I'm sorry, Miss, for scaring you.”

"What... what's going on?"

"Forgive our rudeness," the teapot said, "I am Nanami Kento, I work as a mentor for the young Itadori Yuji, who is the younger brother of the master.

"Master?"

"Uh, Sukuna, the big guy with four arms."

"Sukuna..." Y/n whispered his name. The name actually suited him. "So this is like a magic castle?"

"You could say that," Nanami said, "Anyway, we came to ask you if you would like a cup of tea."

"If you don't mind, I'd love to." The teapot approached the cup and poured the warm liquid into it.

"Miss..."

"Please, just call me Y/n."

"As you wish, Y/n." Nanami said, being quite serious for a teapot, "I apologize for Master's inconsiderate and rude attitude."

"Mr. Nanami, please don't apologize for his actions, it's your master who should apologize, not you."

"She's right, Nanamin!" Itadori said with a cheerful voice, "My brother should stop being such a jerk and start learning not to be rude to people!"

"You two are quite different, Itadori," the young woman smiled at the cup in her hand.

"Let's just say I got the good genes from the family."

"Well, I'm afraid we've talked too much already, we have a feast to prepare. Come on, Itadori."

"Do you need any help?"

"Of course not, Y/n, you are our guest of honor!"

The young woman watched as the teapot and cup left the room, then threw herself back onto the bed. She had just been talking to a teapot and a cup... perhaps the things in there were not the most conventional she had ever seen in her life.

Filled with curiosity about the place, Y/n got out of bed and walked almost on tiptoe to the door, slowly opening it. She poked her head out of the room and looked around to see if anyone was guarding the door to the room she was in. When she realized that no one was there, she left the room, closing the door behind her, and began to wander around the castle with a curious look on her face.

This castle was certainly different from all the castles that appeared in the stories in the books she used to read. The decor was gloomy. The curtains looked as if they hadn't been opened for years, leaving everything in a darkness that the young woman was beginning to get used to.

Y/n climbed a flight of stairs and continued her exploration of the place. When she reached a dead-end hallway, she was about to turn around and return to her assigned room, but a faint glow from the slightly open door piqued her curiosity. Before entering the unfamiliar room, she looked around to make sure no one was around and entered, making as little noise as possible.

The darkness of the room prevented her from noticing the clutter and some upside-down furniture in the corner of the huge room, but also the glow of a beautiful rose near the glass door of the balcony that had captivated her. Before she could touch the glass that held the rose, Y/n felt a large, strong hand grab her wrist.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING HERE?" Sukuna's hand closed tighter around Y/n's wrist.

"I was just–"

"I THINK YOU BETTER GET OUT OF MY WAY BEFORE I KILL YOU!" Sukuna let go of the girl's wrist, not caring how much force he used against her, and turned to look at the rose in front of him.

The words frightened Y/n more than Sukuna's tone. Fearing that the threat would become reality, the young woman ran as fast as she could, looking for an exit from the castle.

When she found the huge door, she opened it without a second thought, feeling an icy wind against her body. Her thin dress wasn't enough to keep her warm in the cold or protect her from the falling snow, but it was all she had and she wasn't going back to the castle just to find something to run away with ⸻ the chances of meeting Sukuna were high and something she didn't want at the moment.

A wolf's howl echoed through the forest, and Y/n tried to run as fast as she could in the snow. Her body was freezing more and more with each passing second, and her head was spinning since the only thing she had eaten during the day was the cup of tea Nanami had offered her. Dizzy, the young woman's vision blurred, and she stumbled over a branch that was in her way. Turning around, she saw a wolf staring at her with a hungry look and wished that the animal in front of her wasn't staring at her. But before she could get up and run away in a lousy attempt to save herself from a natural predator, Y/n noticed a huge figure coming up behind the wolf and picking a fight with the animal.

Gradually, the young woman felt her body tremble with fatigue and the cold, but she soon regained some consciousness when she felt large, muscular arms holding her. "You've come to kill me, Sukuna...?" her voice came out weakly.

"Shut up, you impertinent girl."

Before she could respond to Sukuna's words, the young woman felt her body give way completely, and everything went black.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶

When Y/n finally regained consciousness, she felt something soft underneath her and a pleasant warmth, but the sound of an argument brought her headache back. Sukuna's voice, the only one she could recognize, was loud and angry, and he didn't seem to mind shouting.

"I SWEAR, GOJO, THE NEXT TIME YOU OPEN YOUR MOUTH, I'LL MELT YOU INTO LIQUID WAX AND THEN BREAK YOU IN HALF.”

"Master, I'm sorry to bother you."

"WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT'S WRONG, GETO?!"

"Miss has just woken up."

"So you finally decided to wake up?" Sukuna turned to the young woman, his four arms crossed in front of his broad chest, and approached the sofa where she lay.

"What happened?"

"You fainted"

"How long was I unconscious?"

"About three days."

"What?" The girl looked at him, startled by his answer. Could she have been unconscious for so long just because she hadn't eaten?

"It's been two hours at most, now stop complaining because the food is getting cold." Sukuna turned his back to the young woman, allowing her to notice several scratches along his length, surely acquired in his fight with the wolf.

"Excuse me, miss, it is a pleasure to meet you, I am Gojo Satoru, currently your candelabra, but always at your service!" The talking candelabra approached the young woman, "If you would allow me, I would like to take you to the dining room, as some are incapable of doing such kindness!"

"That's very kind of you, Mr. Gojo," Y/n smiled slightly and got up from the sofa, following the chandelier into the dining room. She sat down at the end of the table laden with food and shivered slightly when she saw Sukuna join her in the meal, taking a seat at the other end of the table.

Dinner took place in deep silence, on the one hand there was Sukuna who didn't know how to start a conversation politely and on the other there was Y/n who was in an internal discussion with herself about Sukuna's heroic act of fighting a wolf hand to hand after she had run away. He saved her life even when he didn't have to ⸻ and even after he threatened to kill her.

When she finished her dessert, the girl picked up the glass bowl filled with water and a cloth from the table and slowly approached Sukuna, "Do you mind if I help you with those bruises?" she asked in a low tone, but audible enough for the man to hear.

"Whatever." Though he seemed indifferent to the girl's request, Sukuna moved and turned onto his back, giving her better access to his bruises.

"Does it hurt?" she asked as she dipped the cloth into the water and gently wiped the bruises.

"Not a bit."

"I'm sorry, I'm to blame for what happened to you.”

"I'm glad you know. If you hadn't had the stupid idea to run off in the middle of the night, I wouldn't have been hurt," he said in a rude tone.

"Well, I wouldn't have run away if you hadn't scared me and threatened to kill me."

"And I wouldn't have yelled at you if you hadn't entered the forbidden wing."

"You have never forbidden any wing of the castle, just like you never said I couldn't explore it." The young woman's words left Sukuna speechless. In fact, he had never forbidden her to go to his room. She had done nothing to deserve being cursed and threatened. "You should learn to control your anger. Otherwise, you'll only drive away those who love you." The room fell into such a deep silence that neither of them dared to speak for several minutes. When she had finished cleaning Sukuna's bruises, the girl placed the cloth on the table and turned to leave. "I think I'd better go back to my room. Have a good night," she whispered.

"Y/n..." Sukuna's calm voice brought the young woman to an immediate halt. It was the first time he had called her by name.

“Yes?”

"Have breakfast with me tomorrow."

"Was that supposed to be a request?"

Sukuna rolled all four eyes, "Could you have breakfast with me tomorrow?"

"Yes, we could." she smiled broadly, showing her teeth, amused by Sukuna's frustrated look, "I would love to, thank you for asking."

"Yeah... whatever." Sukuna looked away to some random point. "Go to sleep, impertinent girl."

“Good night, Sukuna.” The young woman smiled openly.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶

When Y/n rejoined Sukuna the next morning, her first reaction was to examine the cuts on the man's back. The young woman felt guilty about the injuries, for if she had thought twice about what she was doing, the fight might never have happened, and Sukuna might never have been hurt.

Breakfast was eaten in silence, with discreet glances exchanged. For some reason, after being rescued by Sukuna, the young girl had a new vision of the four-armed monster. It's true that he was rude and arrogant most of the time, but there was something about him that had the potential to be a kinder being. Sukuna wasn't purely evil. She could see that at dinner last night when something started to blossom between them. Sukuna, on the other hand, tried to remember that the girl was kind to everyone around her. He was no exception to her kindness and sweet touches.

"I want to show you something." Sukuna said, controlling his tone, which surprised the young woman.

"What is it?" She said curiously.

"Could you..." he sighed deeply "Could you come with me?"

"Of course!" She smiled at Sukuna's attempt to be polite.

Sukuna led the young woman through the castle, which, unlike the day before, had its curtains and windows open and didn't look so frightening in the light.

"This is... an apology... for scaring you yesterday..." Sukuna's voice was lower than usual, and the tips of his ears turned red as he looked away from the girl in front of him. He certainly couldn't look into the young woman's eyes, not when he thought her eyes were as beautiful as the starry sky.

The four-armed man opened the doors in front of him, revealing to Y/n a vast library filled with books from floor to ceiling.

"Oh my! That's wonderful!" Y/n smiled and looked around, "How did you know I liked books?"

"A hunch."

"Sukuna..." The girl approached the man, "I accept your apology, and thank you for showing me this place. I admire you for trying to change." The young woman's hand reached Sukuna's upper right arm, and she gently smoothed the boy's skin under her hand, sending a shock through Sukuna's huge body. "So, which book shall we read first?" she asked after noticing the sudden and strange silence of the man in front of her.

“We?” Sukuna looked at the woman in disbelief.

"Yes, us!" Y/n smiled, pulling Sukuna with some difficulty to look at the books in the large library. "I think we started our relationship in a very bad and strange way, but I think we can change that... if you want to, of course."

"You are too good for this world..." Sukuna whispered.

"What did you say?" Y/n turned to Sukuna, puzzled by what the other had whispered.

"That you talk too much and that you're very curious," he crossed his four muscular arms.

"Aren't you the least bit curious about the world?"

"The world is a cruel place full of arrogant men who dream of being gods, I don't think that arouses my curiosity.”

"You have a very dark view of the world..." The young woman looked at him in surprise.

"It's just reality..." Sukuna shrugged.

"And why don't you try to change that reality?" The girl ran her finger along the back of the books, "Maybe if you looked for a new perspective, you might be surprised by the result."

"I have a feeling I don't have time for this anymore.”

"And why not? There's a whole world of possibilities out there, behind the bars of the castle."

"Do you think I've been stuck in the castle all these years because I want to be? Ever since they turned me into that four-armed monster, I've been hiding. What do you think would happen if I walked around the village like a normal person? People would hunt me down and try to kill me.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't thought of it that way..." Y/n stared at the floor as she clutched the book in her hands, ashamed that she had never thought of it from that perspective.

"Whatever"

"Why did you turn into a monster?" The girl's words were out of her mouth before she could think twice. "Oh, I'm sorry for being so pushy."

"An old witch cursed me..." Sukuna shrugged as he sat down on one of the sofas in the library.

"And there's no way to break the spell?"

"It's more complicated than you think..."

"Sukuna... why are you hiding under this rude and arrogant personality?" The young woman approached him and sat down beside him.

"I've always been like this, so stop giving me a hard time." He rolled his eyes and looked away from the girl.

"You can trust me, I won't tell anyone. Everything you tell me here will stay here." She put her hand on Sukuna's hand, which was resting on his thigh.

"Which book did you get?" he asked, diverting the subject.

"One of adventure and romance," the young woman smiled, respecting the man's decision not to talk about his past, "would you like to read it with me?"

Sukuna sat down on the sofa with a false expression of disinterest and watched as Y/n smiled excitedly as she opened the book, ready to tell her favorite story to the man next to her.

Neither Sukuna nor the young woman noticed the passage of time, and they were only slightly surprised when Geto, the clock, and Gojo, the candelabra, entered the library to announce that lunch was served.

They ate lunch and dessert in silence, both afraid to break the pleasant atmosphere between them. When they returned to the library to finish the story, the young woman noticed the snow falling outside the castle.

"Sukuna... instead of reading again, why don't we go outside and enjoy the weather?" The young woman suggested with a slight smile on her face.

"Do you want to go outside?"

"Come on, it'll be cool!"

After they were properly warmed up (this was the first time the young woman had seen the boy with some kind of cloth covering his upper body), they both went out side by side into the castle's huge garden. Slowly, the girl walked away from Sukuna, and suddenly, in her actions, she bent down and picked up a handful of snow in her hands, forming a ball, and then hit the four-armed man in the face.

"Is this a request for war?" Sukuna bent down to form two snowballs with his four hands.

"Are you telling me you're too old to have fun?" she smiled, hiding behind a tree as she made another snowball.

A snowball fight ensued, with the young woman laughing every time she hit Sukuna with a ball. Y/n ran through the snow, laughing awkwardly, until she felt her body thrown to the ground and pinned by a body more than twice her size.

"What? Have you run out of things to do, you impertinent girl?" Sukuna smiled sideways, bringing a blush to the girl's cheeks beneath him.

"If you stand over me like that, it won't be as much fun..." Y/n looked away.

"Ah, but I find it very funny," he laughed anasally. One of his hands reached for the girl's chin, pulling her face (gently) so that she was facing him again.

"You have beautiful eyes..." the girl whispered, but because of the short distance between them, Sukuna was able to hear her perfectly.

"All four eyes? Or just a pair?" He smiled provocatively but was secretly curious to hear the girl's answer.

"Hm, I meant all four."

Sukuna's heart skipped a beat and he felt a warm feeling grow in his chest. He knew from the moment he saw her that his heart had chosen her, it was as if it broke into song every time she appeared in his field of vision. He knew he was lost the moment she was kind enough to take care of a monster like him and tend to his wounds. But there was still a problem. There had to be reciprocity, and he knew it wouldn't be possible to be loved, not by someone like her. In the end, she was his salvation and his downfall.

Sukuna stepped down from the young woman and lay down on the snow beside her, looking up at the clear, cloud-filled sky. "My parents never loved me. They said I was useless, a scum, a terrible curse in their lives. They never cared about me or Itadori."

"You deserve so much more, Sukuna, I can see it now." Y/n turned her head to meet the man's face in profile. "It can't have been easy, but I'm glad that you're here now," by my side, she added mentally.

“Y/n…”

“Yes, Sukuna?”

"Is there anything you've always dreamed of doing if you were in a castle?"

"Ah, well, there's only one thing I always dreamed of when I read fantasy books..."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ✶

"That dress looks magnificent on you, miss!" Shoko, the wardrobe, said with a slight smile on her face, she had chosen a long, voluminous yellow dress that looked like gold.

"I love the dress," the young woman smiled sweetly and smoothed the skirt with her gloved hands, "It's the most beautiful dress I've ever seen. Thank you for helping me, Shoko."

"Go ahead, dear." Shoko said with her calm tone and a lazy smile on her lips, "Have fun with Master Sukuna."

Y/n left the room, feeling her heart beating hard against her chest. It was as if the organ was ready to jump out of her body and run away. Perhaps the girl was worried about the extent to which her feelings had grown since meeting Sukuna ⸻ and especially after the new vision she had after being saved by him. Though he had his monstrous appearance and rough manner to keep his vulnerability from being exposed, the girl knew that deep down, Sukuna could be good and kind.

"Not bad." Sukuna smiled sideways as he met the girl in the hall. He was wearing one of his prince suits, which had been transformed for this very situation.

"Can you really dance?" she asked, trying not to sound so doubtful about the supposed waltzing skills of the man in front of her.

"Since I was five years old." Sukuna replied, taking the girl's hand and placing it on his shoulder while holding her other hand tightly. His lower arms found a place around her waist together with the upper one that was already there. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." She said with a smile.

The music echoed around the room, and Sukuna led Y/n, swaying from side to side until the girl got used to the dance moves. Their eyes met for a moment, and Sukuna lost himself in the depth and brilliance of the woman's eyes before him. The man had always found her beautiful, ever since that dimly lit night in the tower when they first met, she was certainly the most beautiful woman in his eyes, there was no beauty that could compare to hers. As time passed, Sukuna realized that her outward beauty was perhaps only comparable to her own inner beauty, which managed to be much more beautiful. Y/n was much more than a pretty face, her manner, her personality, and her admirable kindness and empathy were some of the things about her that enchanted him every moment he spent with her. And sometimes he thought that maybe he could have a place next to her, even with his monstrous appearance and questionable personality ⸻ she always made him want to be the best version of himself, even if he didn't know what that was yet.

"Y/n..." Sukuna's voice came out with a softness that startled him, "I want to take the chance to tell you something."

"You can tell me anything you want, I'm all ears."

"I..."

"MASTER! MASTER!" Gojo, the candelabra, ran toward the couple, who were lost in their own world.

"What is it, Gojo?" Sukuna's voice came out harsher than the tone he had used before.

"The castle is being attacked!" Gojo said in despair.

"By whom?" Sukuna's hands tightened slightly around the girl's waist, pulling her closer to his body.

"I think they are villagers, and your father is with them." Gojo turned to the young woman.

"My father? Is my father here?"

"Yes, but it looks like he's under arrest."

"Gojo, take Y/n to a safe place. If they want to come, let them come."

"What? But what about you, Sukuna?" the young woman looked at him worriedly.

"Don't worry, just do as I say." Sukuna slowly released the woman from his arms. "I'll take care of any disturbances, just stay safe."

"But I don't want to leave you."

"You're not leaving me, you're just protecting yourself from danger. That's what's best for you."

"I can decide what's best for me!"

"I'm well aware of that." Sukuna laughed weakly, "Just let me take care of it, and I'll get back to you safely."

"Promise me?"

"I promise."

The young woman followed Gojo to one of the farthest rooms in the castle, promising the chandelier that she would stay there until everything was settled. As soon as Gojo left, Y/n paced the room, thinking of a plan to rescue her imprisoned father. Sukuna and the castle staff would be busy fighting the townspeople, and it would be the perfect time for her to act in secret.

Determined, she opened the glass door leading to the balcony and assessed the distance; fortunately, she wasn't too high up to take a fatal fall. She opened the wardrobe and took out all the cloth she could find, tying the end of each into a tight knot to make a makeshift rope. With the rope in her hand, she threw it across the balcony, tying one end to the railing. A little clumsy, this being the first time she had done anything so radical, she jumped off the balcony, holding tightly to her rope, and climbed down calmly, looking straight up. Once on the ground, Y/n ran as fast as she could, looking for an exit ⸻ or entrance ⸻ that would lead her to the castle gates.

"Dad!" she cried in a low tone so as not to draw attention to herself when she spotted a cart stopped near the entrance to the castle.

"Daughter?" Her father's weak voice caught her attention.

"Dad!" she ran to the wagon, worried. "Are you all right?"

"I wonder if you're alright! Did Gaston manage to save you?"

"Gaston?" she asked as she searched for a stone to break the lock.

"Yes! When I returned to the village, I asked Gaston and the others to help me free you from that monster."

"Dad, Sukuna is not a monster!" The girl used all her strength and smashed the stone against the padlock, breaking the object and freeing her father.

"How is he not a monster, dear?"

"He's kind and brave, he can be polite when he wants to be. I realized that he's not a monster." The young woman hugged her father.

"Oh dear, you're in love with him..." the older man said more like a statement than a question.

"What? No, we're just friends." She looked away, embarrassed by her father's words.

"I think we'd better stop Gaston then, he's come with the intention of killing him," her father said worriedly.

"What?" she looked at her father wide-eyed, "Father, stay here, please!" The woman grabbed the hem of her dress and ran to the castle entrance, watching the chaos unfold around her. The townspeople were fighting the castle furniture, which was actually its bewitched inhabitants.

"Miss!" Gojo's voice caught the young woman's attention. "You're supposed to be in your room. What are you doing here? Master Sukuna will kill me if he finds out you're not safe!"

"I have to find Sukuna," she said desperately, climbing the stairs, "Gaston will attack him, I can't let that happen!"

"But Miss, that's dangerous!" Gojo tried to stop the girl, but to no avail.

"And Sukuna is in danger!"

The young woman ran until her feet hurt, and when she reached the hall where she and Sukuna had danced minutes before, as if they were the only two in the world. However, the sound of a gunshot and an agonizing scream caught the girl's attention and pulled her out of her thoughts.

“SUKUNA!”

"Y/n?" Sukuna turned to the girl, looking frightened, as if he had seen a ghost.

"Gaston..." the young woman whispered as she saw the brunette stand up and point his gun in Sukuna's direction.

Without thinking, the young woman ran up to Gaston and threw herself on him, knocking the gun out of his hands. Y/n stood up and threw the gun out of Gaston's reach.

"Oh, my beautiful lady! I've finally found you! Your father has been worried about your disappearance!" Gaston stood up with a smile, "If you'll excuse me, I have a monster to kill!"

"He's not a monster, Gaston!"

"Oh dear, don't tell me you're going to defend that monster?"

"Like I said, he's not a monster. And if anyone is the monster here, it's you, Gaston!"

"What did you say?"

"That you are the monster here!"

"You bitch–" Before he could finish his speech, Gaston punched Y/n in the face, and as the girl fell to the floor in surprise at the sudden impact, the man kicked her in the stomach, sending her rolling across the floor of the hall. And before Gaston could do anything, Sukuna punched him in the face.

"I'll make sure you never lay a finger on her again." Sukuna grabbed Gaston's neck and led him out onto the balcony.

"Please! Please don't kill me!"

"You should have thought twice before you touched her with your filthy fingers."

"Sukuna!" The young woman's voice made Sukuna lose focus on the man he was holding by the neck. "Don't kill him!"

"But he-"

"Please"

Sukuna took a deep breath and looked back at the man, who was almost out of breath. Sukuna left Gaston on the ground, coughing to catch his breath as he turned and headed for the girl on the ground, but something hit him in the side of his body. He staggered backward in fear, seeing the dagger in his waist, and fell with someone else. Gaston, who was behind Sukuna, overbalanced and fell off the balcony, letting out a pained and desperate scream.

"SUKUNA!" Y/n ran over to the man crouched on the ground.

"Are you all right?" Sukuna asked, reaching for the young woman's warm cheeks."You should be safe. Why are you here?"

"I was scared..."

"How could an impudent girl like you be afraid?" The man smiled provocatively as he lay on his back on the floor, feeling the blood run down his side.

"I went to save my dad," Y/n controlled the urge to cry, "and I wanted to know if you were okay."

"Did you really think I would lose to a guy like that?"

"Sukuna... I'm scared..."

"It's okay, I'm here. I promised I wouldn't leave, I'll keep that promise."

"I want to be with you... by your side." The young woman leaned down, resting her cheek against the man's bare chest.

"Y/n... I have something to tell you." Sukuna felt his heart beating heavily against his chest.

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

"Do you..." Y/n stood up in surprise and looked at Sukuna, "Do you love me?"

"Very much."

"I... I love you too." A broad smile formed on the girl's lips.

Sukuna's hand reached Y/n's face before reaching her neck and pulling her into a soft kiss. Sukuna's heart, which had been celebrating the mutuality of the girl's feelings, melted as soon as the young woman's soft, delicate lips met his ⸻ a warm, comfortable feeling settled in his chest. When they pulled away, Sukuna found his forehead on hers, and their breaths became one. Slowly, Y/n pulled away and opened her eyes, surprised by the sight before her.

"Sukuna... you..."

"What about me?" The man looked uncertainly at the woman before him.

"You no longer have four arms and four eyes!"

"What?" He stood up quickly and looked down at himself. The wound from Gaston's dagger had disappeared, as had a pair of arms. Around him, the castle was angelic and glowing again, shedding its monstrous appearance.

The spell was broken.

And he was free again.

"Thank you..." Sukuna hugged Y/n tightly.

"Why do you thank me?" The young woman broke the hug and got up from the ground, standing in front of Sukuna.

"For loving me even when I was a monster." His voice was lower than usual. Maybe he wasn't quite used to all this new feeling.

"As I said, you deserve many of the good things the world has to offer."

"Speaking of which, I think we can get to know the world now, as you said, look for new perspectives."

"We?"

"And why shouldn't we?"

"You really want to take me with you to see the world?" Y/n looked at him excitedly.

"I promised to stay by your side, didn't I? And by the way, I don't think I could have a better partner than you to look for a new perspective on things." Sukuna smiled and pulled Y/n around her waist, pressing their lips together once more in a sweet, quiet kiss. "I want you by my side, forever."

"If you thought that impertinent girl would ever let you go, you thought wrong." Y/n wrapped her arms around Sukuna's neck, bringing their faces closer as she smiled, "I love you too much to let you go. Whether you're human or monster, I'll stay by your side, forever."

"Just so you know, there's no turning back. You'll be by my side forever from now on." Sukuna smiled teasingly.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea." The young woman quickly sealed her lips with Sukuna's.

Sukuna was free of a spell that condemned him for his past actions, and now he would fall under the spell that was the love he felt for the girl in front of him without any regrets.

© SEONGHRTZ, 2024ㅤ⸻ㅤall rights reserved. please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

#꒰ 🪷 ꒱ ࣪𓂂 ׅ ⤿ 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 ! #☆ . . seonghrtz !! #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen x you #sukuna fluff #sukuna fanfic #sukuna ryomen fanfic #sukuna ryomen fluff #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[istadris]

I’m back with another Mario Movie AU, because apparently I can’t stop.

(It’s not really intended as a Bowuigi / Bowsario / Powser scenario, but if you want to read it that way, be my guest and go wild with your ideas).

Luigi gets captured and taken to Bowser, you know the drill. BUT. Two details make a big difference from canon :

Luigi, who’s been in a Hobbit bingewatch recently, manages to take a leaf out of the “surviving the huge murderous dragon by stroking their ego” book and starts complimenting and praising Bowser, whose reputation spreads beyond this world, he claims. He’s only come here to admire the glory of such a magnificent king, the Terror of the Darklands, the Scourge of the Kingdoms, the King of Monsters (he’s pulling all of this out of what he’s heard and awkwardly guessed so far). How could he not, after everything he’s heard about him ?? And yet the tales pale in comparaison of the real thing. Yes, that’s totally why he’s here. “And that other human with a moustache ?” “ Do you think I know every human being with a moustache wearing an identical outfit with a hat with the letter of his first name on it?! ...Because I don't! That’s just how normal human males look like !!! Are your mask guys related just because they look like each other ??” Bowser, turning towards the Shy Guys: “Are you ?” “No!! Gross, we’re married, Sir!” “A-anyway, I’m sure that human (who has nothing to do with me at all) is here for the same reason as me! To meet you and tell you how much he finds you awesome! Not for your fiancé at all!”

Bowser is dumb enough to believe all of it.

So now Bowser is very happy because not only does he loves sycophants as a general rule, but this one is human! If just his reputation was enough to make human flock to his kingdom, surely Peach will be head over heels for him once she meets him ! Ha! Take that, random Ex-Koopa-Now-Dry-Bones !!

“Told you all I was irresistible! Now she WILL say yes!!!”

But because he wants to hit every single bullet point in human attraction (and not at all because he’s a bit nervous), he’s asking Luigi for his “opinion”. Which, for Luigi, amounts to stand around while Bowser is singing his lungs out  and pretends that yes, a human would totally be charmed by this!

“How about a mass ritual sacrifice for our wedding ?”

“Oh god, that’s a thing ???”

“Yes, obviously ! Pure Koopa wedding tradition! Won’t she love it?!”

“mamma mia...”

“What was that ?”

“I MEAN- Yeah that’s. That’s very cool, but how about you go even further ?”

“More victims? I mean, I can scrounge up some forced volunteers in my troops...”

“No!! Erm, how about you manage to win the war without making a single causality ? Any warlord can kill everyone on his path, but you’re THE Bowser! You don’t even need to use your full strength to be respected!”

“...That’s very stupid. And I don’t want to be respected, I want to be feared.”

“Well you didn’t hurt me (very much) and I fear AND respect you very much !”

“Fair point.”

“And if you manage to do that ? That Princess Peach, she’ll swoon straight into your arms!”

BONUS !

In the Rainbow Road battle, instead of falling in the sea, Mario and DK are captured and taken to Bowser (with Luigi present in the throne room).

Bowser is gloating and Mario is ready to fight despite the danger:

“So, human, did you also come here to sing my praises?”

“Oh I’ll sing something alright, you...”

“Brother!!” Luigi starts yelling in Italian, “for ONCE in your life, don’t pick a fight you can’t win and listen to me! Just pretend that the maniac with fire breath is the most amazing guy you’ve ever seen, our lives depend on it!”

“...you amazing, incredible and badass king, I can’t believe I ever tried to fight you!”, Mario quickly plays along to the point of dropping on one knee (but mostly to hide his gagging face).

Bowser immediately turns toward Luigi :

“What did you say?? What was that gibberish ?!”

“Eerrr Magic! Yes! To-to make him admit how much he finds you awesome!”

“You can use magic?!”

“Human magic!! That only works on humans!! Not on Koopas or whatever -not that I would have used it on you, of course, eh ehehe....”

“You can make humans fall in love with me on command ?? That’s even BETTER! Now Peach WILL marry me without any doubt!!”

#super mario bros #mario movie #miscellaneous mario madness #ah my old friend : shenanigans based on misunderstandings and outrageous bluffs #any of you got ideas based on this one please let me know

[goldenraeofsun]

Day 4: Wicked

Castiel keeps his longing for Dean Winchester, quarterback and last year’s junior prom king, the ultimate secret of his high school years. It's not hard; he doesn’t have many (any) friends. 

At lunch, he sits at what he dubs as the “miscellaneous” table with the girl with the heavy eyeliner and combat boots, the boy with his trick deck of cards and actual top hat, and the freshman who always has their nose buried in a textbook.

After school, Castiel has homework, music lessons, cross country, and chess tutoring. Evenings not spent on extracurriculars are for his parents’ galas, auctions, and other fundraising events for their arts charity.

Dean would have graduated without ever saying one word to Castiel – except Anna Milton breaks her arm two weeks after school starts. Three days later, Castiel twists his ankle, marking the end of his senior year athletic ambitions.

As he hobbles away from his locker, he overhears Dean lamenting that they can’t find anyone to run tech after Anna’s accident.

Castiel gets the job before the school day is over.

* * *

Dean is magnificent as Harold Hill. He may have auditioned on a highly popularized dare from another football player, but he was born for the stage. His whole body lights up on the stage, and his impeccable comedic timing makes Castiel smile, even when he doesn’t get the joke.

Rehearsals quickly become Castiel’s favorite parts of his day. The stage manager, Charlie, seems determined to bring him into the theater fold and makes smalltalk about which video games and movies Castiel must try in his nonexistent free time.

Cas suspects she talks to him out of pity, but he can’t find the willpower to reject her. He has his pride – what teenager doesn’t – but not when it comes to his people skills.

The week before dress rehearsals, his chess tutor catches a cold, and Castiel finally finds an hour to read the first chapters of The Hobbit. 

“You finally read it?” Charlie demands, a manic glee in her eye. She grabs his upper arm as if afraid he’s going to bolt from the conversation he started less than a minute ago. 

Castiel nods. “I started it on Tuesday,”

“That’s awesome.” She punches the air triumphantly. “Count another one for Team Tolkien.”

“I haven’t finished it yet.”

“You will,” Charlie promises – or threatens?

“I like it so far,” Castiel says truthfully because he wouldn’t say anything else to her face. 

“Good,“ Charlie says firmly. In a loud voice she calls, “Hey, Winchester!”

Castiel freezes.

Charlie yells, “Even Novak beat you to The Hobbit!”

From behind them, Dean’s voice comes, “I told you, I’m gonna get to it!”

Charlie shakes her head, telling Castiel in a carrying stage-whisper, “He’s been saying that for years. I honestly figured he couldn’t read and didn’t want to admit it.”

Dean makes a sputtering noise of offense. “What the hell? I can fucking read, Bradbury!”

Their drama teacher, Mrs. Chandler, barks, “Language!”

Charlie snorts, raising her hand to slightly muffle her giggles. “If Mrs. C is back from her smoke break, I’d better get going.”

To Castiel’s surprise, Charlie doesn’t drop The Hobbit until he finishes it. With her (increasingly fervid) urging, he carves out time during study halls, in between scenes, and in the back seat of their driver’s car on the way to school. 

“Why do you want me to read it so badly?” Castiel asks when he only has a few chapters left, tilting his head as he studies her response. 

“Other than the fact that it’s one of the best books ever written?” Charlie asks, her eyebrows rising.

“The beginning was a little dry.”

“Well, I never!” Charlie clutches her heart before she cracks a smile. “Yeah, I know.” She shrugs. “But it changed my life, and, I dunno,” she shakes her head, “I keep hoping it’ll do the same to someone else.”

Castiel sits up straighter in his chair. “I’d say it has.”

“Yeah?”

Castiel nods at the first friend he made in high school, three months into his senior year. “Of course, it has.”

* * *

The week of the performances, everyone is jumpy and on edge. Even Castiel gets swept up in the nerves, suffering through nightmares when he flubs all his lighting cues and forgets his pants.

On Tuesday – their opening night is Friday – Castiel stays behind after rehearsal to run through the lighting again one last time. Satisfied, he gathers his things and exits the tech booth, frowning as his ears catch a melody of strummed strings coming from backstage.

Castiel follows the sound to the green room to find Dean, crouched over a guitar, a songbook open in front of him. But he doesn’t recognize the chords.

“Could be, who knows,” Dean croons. “There’s something due any day, I will know right away, soon as it shows.”

Definitely not from The Music Man.

“It may come cannonballing down through the sky,” Dean sings in a rush, “gleam in its eye, bright as a – a fuck.” Dean blows a raspberry, his lips pursed, brow furrowed, as he traces a finger along the musical bars on the page.

Castiel makes an involuntary noise, and Dean whirls around. “Cas!”

Caught, Castiel coughs to dislodge the lump of nerves from his throat. “Hello, Dean.”

“What’re you doing here?” Dean asks, his expression apprehensive.

“I was running the cues one last time before heading home.”

Dean nods, his fingers tapping against the neck of his guitar, clearly uncomfortable. But, somehow, Dean’s unease puts Castiel more at ease. He takes a step further into the greenroom instead of hovering on the threshold. “You sound… nice.”

Dean laughs humorlessly. “I have no idea what I’m doing, but thanks.”

Before this moment, Castiel never would have thought Dean suffered from anything so mundane as nerves or low self-esteem

“West Side Story?” Castiel asks, peering over Dean’s shoulder to the songbook.

Dean waits a beat, but when whatever he is expecting doesn’t come, he says, “We’re reading Romeo and Juliet in English, and apparently this is just that with music and gangs, so… anyway, it’s stupid.” He raises his eyebrows. “You know West Side Story but not World of Warcraft?”

Cas blinks, surprised that Dean knew anything about him other than his name and his role backstage. “How did you know that?”

“Charlie,” Dean says with a smirk. After a beat, he ventures, “Have you seen it? West Side Story?”

Castiel shakes his head. The last revival only lasted a year and a half. “My parents never found the time to go while it was still playing.” They aren’t that far away, though, over the river in New Jersey.

“What’s your favorite?”

Castiel pauses. “I liked Rent,” he says, “Mother thought it was too loud, but that’s what the music deserved, what the characters deserved, after being ignored and overlooked for so long.”

“I have no idea what it’s about,” Dean says, sounding intrigued.

Castiel clamps his mouth shut. If any team member of the football team but Dean Winchester had gotten cast in the fall musical, the bullying would have been relentless. As it is, Castiel still sometimes catches slurs being tossed his way by the more homophobic members of their class. Dean laughs them off.

Castiel’s explanation dies on his tongue. Instead, he says awkwardly, “It’s… good.” 

Dean studies him. “How come you never tried out for any of this theater crap?”

“I can’t sing,” Castiel confesses.

“Seriously?”

“I mean, I can,” Castiel corrects as his mother’s constant reminders to pay attention to details (semantics) ring in his ears, “but nobody who values their ears would willingly listen.”

Dean laughs, a sound Castiel will treasure forever. “Dude, you can’t be that bad.”

“Trust me, I am,” Castiel says eagerly. “There’s a reason I joined the orchestra instead of the choir.”

“Could I get a demo?” Dean asks, grinning.

Castiel draws up short. “Absolutely not.”

Dean laughs again, and maybe Castiel fell asleep in the lighting booth and any second now Mrs. Tate will come rushing in and remind him of a Calculus exam he should be taking right now.

To change the subject, he asks Dean, a tad desperately, “Have you seen a Broadway show recently?”

Dean grimaces. “Aren’t tickets expensive?”

Castiel frowns. They might be – he has no idea. “Probably,” he agrees, his shoulders slumping. 

Dean gets to his feet, casting his gaze anywhere but at Castiel. “Listen,” he says in a low voice, “thanks for… thanks.”

* * *

Castiel arrives two hours before curtain on Sunday, the last night of the musical. Heart in his throat, hands almost shaking with nerves, he leaves the flowers and envelope with two tickets to Rock of Ages on Dean’s chair. He adds a note, Musicals are for everyone.

Practically every senior knows Dean loved music from the 80s. Whenever it was his turn to choose the warm up music for football practice, he opted for Styx, Bob Seger, or Def Leppard. 

Castiel might not know pop culture, but he does know Dean Winchester.

Castiel doesn’t sign the card, so he doesn’t expect Dean to invite him along. In fact, he avoids Dean for the rest of the school year. If Dean can’t find him, he can’t reject him. Castiel is fully aware his logic holds water like a sieve, but he can’t bring himself to care.

The day on the tickets comes and goes, and Castiel breathes a sigh of relief (and disappointment).

* * *

Charlie 7:20 Heyyy best friend! I scored last minute tickets to NY Comic Con this weekend You up to dinner and a show on Wednesday?

Castiel 7:20 Of course. It’s been too long since you’ve been back on the East Coast.

Charlie 7:21 Good cause I already got tickets to Wicked 7pm b there or b square

Castiel laughs as he slips his phone back into his pocket. He had expected his friendship with Charlie to fade once they separated for college, but Charlie had the singular talent of being just as present, just as herself, online as in-person.

Still, Castiel obviously prefers the three or four times a year he gets to see her “IRL”.

* * *

“So,” Charlie says as they take their seats in the Gershwin Theatre, “are you going to the reunion next year?”

Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t really see much of a point.”

“C’mon, it’s ten years,” Charlie wheedles. “You don’t want to see who went bald or had a dozen kids?”

“That would be very impressive,” Castiel says as he idly skims the playbill. “Statistically speaking, twins are still a relatively rare occurrence. And to have that many children in nine years would mean multiples.”

“So that’s a yes?” As Castiel shakes his head ‘no’, Charlie pouts. “You’re no fun at all.”

Castiel flips a page. “It’s been said before.”

She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, “I’ll get you there one way or another.”

“Unless you’re talking about kidnapping, I’m not sure how you’ll accomplish that.”

“I have my ways,” Charlie says loftily. “Have you seen Wicked before?”

“Years ago.”

“Good,” Charlie says, “You’re not doing anything after this, right?”

He turns to her quizzically. She’s well aware of his perennial lack of plans. “Other than going home and sleeping?” 

“Awesome,” Charlie says as the lights dim around them and chatter dies down.

The curtain rises and the first “Good news… she’s dead!” rings out from the stage.

Castiel leans in close to Charlie. “What are you planning?” he demands in an undertone.

She doesn’t turn her head away from the stage. “Shh! It’s starting.”

Castiel settles back in his seat and tries to immerse himself in the performance. They sail through The Wizard and I and What is This Feeling? Elphaba’s singing is slightly better than her acting, and Glinda adds a few too many runs to her solos.

But then Fiyero makes his big entrance before launching into his big number, Dancing Through Life, and –

“Charlie,” Castiel hisses.

“I know, right?” Charlie whispers back, beaming up at the stage. “He started this month!”

And he might as well be back in high school, since Castiel has eyes only for Dean Winchester for the rest of the show.

* * *

Charlie drags Castiel to the stage door to wait with the rest of the tourists for the actors’ autographs.

Dean emerges with Elphaba and Nessa, wearing a leather jacket to ward off the autumn chill and worn jeans.

“Hey, Dean!” Charlie shouts, waving with her whole body.

Castiel winces at her sheer volume.

Dean turns and does a double-take at Castiel. “Hey!” he says warmly. He holds up one finger and turns to the waiting crowd of admirers. He signs all the playbills shoved in his face, making smalltalk with anyone brave enough to strike up a conversation. But, all too soon, he makes his way over to Charlie and Castiel by the curb.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in to hug Charlie and, after a split second of hesitation, Castiel too. “So glad you made it.”

“Of course,” Charlie scoffs. “Like I’d miss it. Is it too late for a drink, Dean?”

“Nope,” Dean says easily. He turns to Castiel. “How about you, Cas?”

Castiel can only shake his head.

“Alright, Broadway Boy, where should we go?” Charlie asks.

“Don’t call me that.” Dean shudders. He points down the street, and they start walking. “That makes me sound like the lamest sidekick ever.”

“Kinda,” Charlie agrees, punching Dean in the shoulder. “But you’ll only ever be my handmaiden.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Are you ever gonna let me live that down?”

“Nope,” Charlie says cheerfully.

Dean turns to Castiel. “It was an off-Broadway experimental performance,” he explains with a grimace. “There were robots. And tentacles,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “in space.”

Charlie cackles. “It was awesome.”

They cross the street, and Dean pushes open the door to a homey-looking dive bar. It’s relatively empty this late on a Wednesday night. They order their first round at the bar, and pick a table near the front window to catch up.

But, practically as they sit down, Charlie bounds to her feet. “Little girl’s room,” she says by way of explanation, completely ignoring the look of extreme panic that Castiel shoots her over Dean’s head. “Don’t get trashed without me!”

“No promises,” Dean says with a grin as he waves her off. “So,” he starts once they’re alone. He taps his fingers against the side of his beer, and Castiel’s riot of nerves calms a little at Dean’s fidgeting. “How’ve you been?”

“Good and you?”

Dean snorts. “Not bad,” he says, raising his drink to his lips. 

Castiel mentally scrambles for something, anything, to talk about. “Is this your first Broadway role? Charlie mentioned you started only recently.”

Dean nods in agreement. “Finally popped my Broadway cherry on the 2nd.”

“Congratulations.”

They each take a long pull of their drinks. Castiel tries not to stare too intently at Dean’s face.

Dean sets his glass down with slightly more force than necessary, foam splashing out over the side. “Look,” he says, reaching behind him for his wallet.

Oh no. How in the world has Castiel driven off Dean so quickly? He’d thought his people skills, never the best, had gotten better since high school.

But Dean stays seated as he flips his wallet open and pulls out two old, familiar Broadway tickets. “I just wanted to tell you that you changed my life with these,” Dean says seriously, meeting Castiel’s gaze.

Castiel swallows, and he has to take another sip of beer to get his throat working again. “I’m glad,” he says. He reaches out to touch them, his fingers hovering a hairsbreadth above the paper, creased and fragile from ten years of handling.

Dean pushes them closer, and Castiel dares to pick them up, running the pad of his thumb along the half-faded barcode stamped on the side.

“You were amazing, even in high school,” Castiel says quietly. “You deserved to see all the possibilities open to you.”

“What? No,” Dean says, and Castiel’s eyes snap from the tickets to Dean’s face. “I was already saving up to play hookey and line up for same-day tickets.”

Castiel’s mouth thins. “I’m glad I saved you one day as a truant and the extra cost.”

Dean shakes his head. “’M not saying it right,” he says, frustrated. “It’s – Cas, it wasn’t about the show.”

Castiel is completely lost. “Okay?” he says. “I hope you at least enjoyed it –”

“Of course, I did,” Dean cuts him off, irritated. “Fuck it,” he mutters as he stares down at his beer. He raises his head. “It’s that you gave them to me.”

Castiel blinks. “I don’t understand.”

“For some fuckin’ reason, you saw this kid who didn’t know an arpeggio from an archipelago, and thought he could make it on Broadway based on one dinky high school production of The Music Man.” He taps the tickets still in Castiel’s hand, leaning in. “That’s why I kept these close – because they showed that you believed in me.”

Castiel looks up, and Dean’s face hovers much closer than he remembers. “Oh,” he breathes. 

Dean bites his lip, and every nerve in Castiel’s body thrums with anticipation the longer they stay there, not moving, sharing the same air.

“So sorry, they were cleaning out the bathrooms –”

The moment shatters with Charlie’s arrival. 

But, for once, Castiel isn’t going to let it go without a fight. He grabs Dean by the lapels of his flannel and seals their mouths together.

Dean makes a noise of surprise but doesn’t pull away. He reaches up to cup Castiel’s jaw, and his little hum of satisfaction rings ten times sweeter than any love song Castiel has ever heard him sing.

#suptober22 #destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #reunion #high school au #musician dean #actor dean #charlie & castiel friendship #rae writes fic #jock dean #popular dean #loner castiel

[josefavomjaaga]

Joseph and the ladies

Even Thierry Lentz, very well disposed towards Joseph and really trying to show in his book that Joseph was much more than the weakling he is often perceived as, is quite open about how Joseph spent his free time from the job as king of Spain:

In the Royal Palace or in La Moncloa [a country house], Joseph indulged in two of his favourite private activities: getting rich and loving.

With regards to the first activity, there’s a long story involving, among other things, the crown jewels of Spain, of which a certain amount at some point disappeared from Madrid (Napoleon blamed it on Murat but later learned that the thief had been his brother dearest). And as far as the second activity is concerned, Lentz of course also names the Marquise de Montehermoso, »non exclusive holder of the title mistress« [maîtresse en titre non exclusive]. But there are more. Plenty more.

So many that Colonel Desprez, Joseph’s clumsy aide de camp who had gone all the way to Moscow in order to hand Napoleon a letter of complaint, would later have some acerbic comments on his former master, put together in a report called »Caractère du roi d’Espagne, Joseph Bonaparte«. But this was indeed much later, after the fall of the empire, during the July monarchy, and – possibly on demand of one Marshal Soult . (The question of allowing the exiled Bonaparte family back into France frequently came up.) Soult and Joseph obviously kept up their mutual dislike a long time after Napoleon’s death.

Desprez in this report comments about the Marquise de Montehermoso as follows [quoted in Thierry Lentz, »Joseph Bonaparte«]:

This woman had an exquisite mind, a strongly organised head [...]. She didn't know anything about love other than the physical pleasures and she readily acknowledged this [...]. Her constant aim was to become rich [...]. The weak prince poured out showers of gold and, although forced to use this means, he never ceased to believe himself tenderly loved […]

and about Joseph’s way of life in Madrid in general:

I have often groaned to see a man called to such a prominent role waste his time in vain occupations, laying out paths, planting trees, tearing down walls, building others, changing at every moment the comings and goings of his chambers; giving parties [...], supervising the preparations himself, reading tragedy and repeating to exhaustion the passionate roles of which he thought himself suited to express the delirium [...]. I laugh with pity to see a king, whose throne is trembling, exhaust his attention on hemistichs [...].

But not everyone judged Joseph so harshly. Somebody who seems to even have greatly admired Joseph’s success with women is another aide de camp, General Bigarré. That’s not all too astonishing, as Bigarré’s own memoirs are a crude mix of brutalities, battle scenes, and lewd descriptions of himself seducing teenage girls. About Joseph he says:

In Spain, as in Naples, this prince has been bitterly criticised for occupying himself a little too much with women during the time he governed these two kingdoms. I will agree that he had a particular fondness for this sex, that he did not disdain conversations with the liveliest ladies of his court, that he was even very gallant with several of them, but nevertheless, I repeat, he never forgot what his duties as sovereign required of him.

Which is something, I guess. About Joseph’s entry into Sevilla and his tour around Andalusia, Bigarré also has an interesting remark:

The noble Andalusians, for their part, did not know what to think of in order to show the new King of Spain their love and devotion; some sent him a dozen magnificent bulls as a present, others perfectly harnessed Andalusian horses, and several placed their wives, daughters and houses at His Majesty's disposal. [...]

Hello there, strange French king! Here’s my bull, my horse, my house, my wife, my daughter – take your pick!

[…] the ladies of Sevilla who were invited also found the King of Spain very amiable and attractive. It is a fact that this prince had a wonderful gift for pleasing women. I do not know whether winning over women formed part of his policy, but in all the cities he visited he made many conquests, not only as a king, but also as a man.

Bigarré’s admiration here is palpable.

Bigarré also must have been very well informed about Joseph’s successes in this field, as apparently (according to Thierry Lentz), Joseph took care of Bigarré’s favourite mistress, a Madame Finesi, wife of an Italian actor, whenever the general was on a mission out of town. Bigarré in turn claims to once have had a fling with the Marquise de Montehermoso. But as Napoleon’s police spy Lagarde wrote home, these were hardly the only ladies whose company distracted Joseph from his »political chagrin«. Lentz also lists a Marquise de Jacuso and a Nancy Derrieux, wife of some official in the administration, as regulars in this early 19th century edition of a royal swinger club. Varying female extras were approached through Joseph’s valets, who habitually had to adress young ladies about their willingness to meet the king in private.

For the final judgement on this topic, here’s Napoleon, in Bertrand’s »Cahiers de Sainte Hélène«, echoing what cardinal Ruffo had told him:

Prince Joseph had gentle manners, fine qualities, but he could never attend to business and never pursued anything. He was locked up with a few women, not to fuck all the time, but for the pleasure of society.

Yes, that’s Napoleon using the F-word with regards to his brother. And I honestly do not know if he wanted to somehow excuse Joseph in emphasizing that it was only »for the pleasure of society«, or if he wanted to make sure people didn’t think too highly about Joseph’s stamina...

#napoleon's family #joseph bonaparte #madrid #peninsular war

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Hi Prince! Thank you so much for the ask! <3

Hmm, since I've had huntlow brainrot for nearly a year, I think I'll go with my five favorite fics for them:

A Guard By Any Other Name

They wake in a forest filled with wildflowers and tall, waist-wading grasses, soft summer sunlight pouring through the surrounding thicket of towering trees in misty slivers. Beautiful is the first word that comes to mind when Willow takes it all in, a feeling that intensifies tenfold when her gaze lands on a figure sitting in the shade of a magnificent tree, feather-veined leaves spilling from long, lithe branches like rainfall frozen in time. It doesn't escape Gus's notice that the inner Hunter has chosen a willow tree as his sanctuary, chuckling to himself as the two of them approach him. "I was wondering when you two would finally get here," the inner Hunter affectionately teases, glancing up from the book he'd been reading — From Bones To Earth: A Study Of Wild Magic — to greet them with a radiant smile. "So, journey to the center of my mindscape," he prompts, squinting in the direction of a winding path leading through the denser, darker part of the forest. "Well then, we'd better get started."

Gold Rush

"They're staring at you because they think you're cute," Willow says with a small shrug, like it's an obvious fact, and Hunter nearly falls off the steps. "What?" Hunter's voice cracks about an octave higher than its usual register. "No, that can't be it," he insists with a half-hysterical chuckle, batting the absurd notion away with a wild wave of his hands. "I'm not— no, it's got to be something else." Willow stares at him for a moment, head tilted to the side. "Wait," she says slowly, brow furrowed in genuine concern. "Do you really not know how attract— um. I mean…has no one ever told you that before?" "Do you think I'm cute?" Hunter ventures in a soft, awed voice, and Willow's heart skips about a thousand beats. He's never looked more adorable than he does in this moment — fluffy blond hair coiffed in a windswept halo around the top of his head, dark eyebrows pulled upward in stunned disbelief, plush pink lower lip jutting out ever so slightly in a stupefied pout — and titan have mercy, Willow is so far gone on this boy. She's never been so stupid in love with anyone in her entire life, but this boy downright threatens her IQ.

She Has A Type (And It's Bad But Sad Boys)

"This is weird," she says after a few moments, and Hunter's heart sinks to the depths of his writhing stomach. "Talking to you like this," she clarifies, whiplash sending Hunter's heart soaring so high it nearly leaps right out of his mouth as Willow leans forward, hands coming up to rest on the sides of his face. "Mind if I just—" she asks, fingertips finding the grooves where his mask meets the curve of his jawline, and gently tugs it upward, exposing every bit of pale, scarred, blushing vulnerability underneath. "Hunter," she says, breathing his name between them like a sigh of relief, bursts of golden light from the string of fairy lights dancing in her pale green eyes as she stares up at him with a smile that could turn the dark into daylight. Her hands drift between them in mid-air, like she isn't quite sure what to do with them, fingers twitching like she wants to reach out and touch him, trace the line of his jaw, the curves of his cheekbones, the swell of his lower lip. Or maybe he's just projecting. He needs to leave. He wants to stay.

The Heart Is A Lonely Hunter

"Is this…did someone write a romance novel about grimwalkers?" Hunter asks, turning to see Willow peeking at him through the gap between her fingers, face flushed an adorable shade of pink. "And you used to read it?" he asks, lips pulling up into a smug little smile. "It was a really long time ago!" Willow blurts out, rushing to defend herself. "Way before I ever met you, back when everyone still thought that grimwalkers were just the stuff of fairy tales and folklore. Obviously it's completely inaccurate — I mean, grimwalkers don't feed off of witches' magic like basilisks or vampires, and they certainly couldn't craft an engagement ring out of a piece of their own—" "Ah, bup-bup-bup! No, no, no, no, no spoilers!" Hunter exclaims, covering his ears and shaking his head. Willow pauses mid-ramble, eyebrows arched in surprise. "So, this book," Hunter ventures, gaze flitting between Willow and the bright blue glowing galdorstone illustrated on the front cover of the novel held in his scarred hands. "You said it's a series? As in, there's more?"

Advanced Friendship

Maybe friends routinely catch each other mid-air. Hold each other in their arms like they're holding their own raw, beating heart. Feel that heart quicken and leap into their throat every time the other so much as smiles at them. Maybe friends start fires inside each other's chests that feel like they could simultaneously warm a winter village and burn down a rainforest — a heat so powerful it spills past their ribs and sinks into their skin, igniting their cheeks in bright, ruddy bursts. Maybe friends tell each other they mean the world to one another. Link their pinky fingers in an unspoken promise. Tilt their wrists so that their hands are pressed right up against one another's, like they just couldn't get close enough. It's more than anything he's ever done with any of the others, and it definitely feels different. Maybe it's…advanced friendship? Hunter glances up at her, breath catching at the way all the stars in the night sky seem to dance in her bright green eyes as she gazes back at him, that signature soft smile she seems to reserve just for him tugging at the corners of her lips as a delicate shade of pink blossoms across her cheeks like spring hydrangeas — and a wondrous swell of hope sparks to life inside his chest, because the last time Hunter checked, friends don't look at each other like that.

#ask #ask meme #fanfic author self rec #huntlow

[yomogi-mogi-mochi]

Spolia

Parings: Malleus/(Light Fae) MC // Slight Rook/Vil // MC (Parental)

Summary: You wondered why you ever got accepted into NRC but never bothered to look back when the infamous black carriage whisked you away from a place you could never call home. Having been handed an opportunity of freedom, of solitude, of hope- how come you're paralyzed with fear rather than excitement? Your sunny plein air sessions and nightly walks contemplating this has attracted a certain dragon fae with an affinity for your nimble gargoyle sketches and magnificent paintings.

Notes: Character's lore heavily based on "changelings"- they are fae children who are swapped out with human children because fae believe humans strengthen their bloodline, can be used as servants, etc. They usually develop faster, are an "unearthly" beauty, and are quite intelligent, but appear/behave odd and unnerving. Their existence stems from religious beliefs that odd/sickly children are possessed by the devil/succubus/incubi or a hybrid of the latter and human. TW for religious trauma and child abuse overall but I'm adding comfort since I would literally explode without it. Am I projecting as an art history major with a noggin full of trauma? Shut up. Notes at the end explaining some of the terms. My autistic brain isn’t satisfied without one

I’m cross posting from ao3 to here, so I will be posting there first, before tumblr.

CW: Child Abuse, Mentions of Verbal Abuse, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Bad French

Part 1 (here) // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7

AO3 Link Here.

Masterlist

————————————————————

You glanced quickly around the classroom from your seat at the far left corner, your heart thumping at the mere thought of having to raise your hand AND your voice. After a quick confirmation that everyone seemed to be as half asleep as they usually were, you slowly raised your hand.

"Yes?" Trein gestured towards your direction.

"I, uh, had a question about the development of the architectural structures after the fae and human war." You struggled to look at your Professor's eyes while talking as it had been ingrained into you, however you settled for a spot slightly below his face at the beautiful emerald brooch.

"...after the war, was each race more specialized in their own architectural styles? Or did they care for a spolia* situation with certain buildings or areas each of them conquered?"

Despite all the complaints of drowsiness and the workload of the class, Trein's history lessons were your favorite. Your family background never allowed for any lessons outside of family and national history, so you were happy that Trein would indulge in your inquiries of the art and architecture surrounding the history of magic. Unlike people, buildings and paintings were easier to read- and often they were much more rich with beauty within the layers of history they called with them. Unlike humans.

"That's a good question Mx. D’aramitz. Now I cannot say I have the exact answer as of now..."

Your shoulders slouched a bit in disappointment.

"...however I do have some suggestions on readings if you are interested after class. Any other questions from any other students besides Mx. D’aramitz?" Treins eyes bore into the collective glazed look of the other students. After a beat of deafening silence he swiftly turned to the chalkboard, writing the homework for the weekend.

"That is your work for the weekend. You're all dismissed."

Students began to filter out the door, eager to get to their lunch. You anxiously made your way to Trein, carefully collecting your books, as well as a leather bag containing your art supplies.

"Ah Mx. D’aramitz. Glad to see that you've stayed. Wait here I'll write out the list for you- I take it you've already finished my last recommendations?"

"Ah- yes! It was very interesting, the intertwining between magical royalty and stained glass has some interesting symbolism and political history I never considered...thank you for the suggestions!" You felt your lips unintentionally pull into a grin, as you attempted not to gush about the nuance and beauty of Gothic architecture. Trein listened intently to your review regarding his reading recommendations. His usually tight expression softened into a small smile.

"I'm glad you enjoyed those books. I actually have some other suggestions if you're curious- I'll write them along with the others I promised you." He neatly listed a couple of titles onto a piece of parchment before he handed it to you. "It's always a pleasant surprise to see students like you Mx. D’aramitz. However I don't want to keep you from your lunch. I'll see you in class."

You see some students already filtering into the classroom for their next period, you quickly bow your head. "Th-thank you! Have a good weekend!"

Swiveling around to scurry out of the classroom, your face was met with a large body instead. You instinctively flinched backwards, quickly snapping your anxious gaze to Malleus Draconia, with a calm expression resting on his slender face.

He looked down onto your scrawny figure, virescent eyes staring into your own.

You internally screamed.

"S-sorry! Excuse me..."

Pulling the hem of your hood down, you weaved around the incoming students, making a beeline to your usual place for lunch. Unlike the bustling bodies and loud chaos of the school’s hallways, you were relieved to find the library mostly empty, and tranquil as usual. Despite the silence, you pulled your noise canceling headphones over your pointed ears tucked under your hood, and hit shuffle on your music library. Neatly placing you books on the table, you excitedly trotted over to book shelves, Trein’s list in hand. After some vigilant searching, you found two of the books on your list. However, Power of Artistic Appropriation: Postwar Victory of Gothic Fae Architecture was nowhere to be found.

Ah I guess I can just look at a later time…

Scurrying back to your usual corner, you laid out your lunchbox on the table. You were much more interested in devouring the contents of your book, than eating the homemade meal you had made this morning. Excitement rumbled through your chest, to the tips of your hands and feet, as you absorbed the information on the page. You enjoyed peaceful times like this, untethered to the thoughts that normally weighed you down. The honey gold warmth that shone from the large arched windows reminded you that you needed to buy more yellow pigment from Sam’s shop after your plain air session after classes. You swatted that thought away as you continued to leaf through the last few pages of the chapter Trein recommended.

Ah what peace…

“I said, hey, human .”

You jumped at the sudden presence.

What is with all of the Diasmonia students today??

Stern green eyes looked down in seeming disgust as narrowed in annoyance. You took this que to take off your headphones, careful not to let your hood down. Sebek held out his hand expectantly, shoving it in front of your face. You flinched on instinct but maintained a trained look of composure despite the rush of tingling anxiety creeping to the tips of your hands. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hands to ground yourself.

“I believe you have a book that my young master is in need of. Hand it over and we can be done here, human .”

…hah?

“S-Sorry?”

To your horror his face twisted in anger. “Are you deaf, human ?! I said hand it over.” Sebek seethed through his teeth.

He seems more trouble than he’s worth… and this feeling, and the Diasmonia uniform…half fae perhaps? It can’t possibly end well…

“Ah s-sorry! My notes are still in it but‒“ The student snatched the book from your hands, before marching away from you with a pile of books in hand. Maybe the book you were looking for earlier is also in that pile. Ah, at least you finished most of the chapter, better than being hurt or in a difficult situation. You collected your things before brushing off your pomefiore uniform, heading to your next class.

How troublesome…

You couldn’t wait until you were away from the noise of people.

Letting out a relieved sigh, you trotted out of the school, towards the gothic structure of the Diasmonia dorm. To be frank, you had half a mind to avoid the dorm with the run-ins you’ve had with the students today, however you were almost finished with the painting , aside from the painful drying process and varnish. Eager to begin another piece featuring the gargoyles you read of in the book that was rudely snatched from you today, you decided to risk it. You were already creating a color palette you could use for the painting, perhaps you would check with Sam if any interesting or rare pigments arrived.

Swiveling your head to check for any students, you were thankful to see no one. After all, this was an unpopular part of the campus, off to the side of the Diasmonia dorm where you could get a good look at the dynamic structures supported by the towering buttresses. Airy walls suspended from the heavens, while the hefty stone ground it into the Earth creeping up the structure with its mossy appendages.

Finally able to relax, you let down your hood, putting your music on speaker to give your pointed ears a break from the noise canceling headphones not made for fae ear structure. Shrugging off your uniform jacket, you let your translucent wings free from the restricting fabri. Stretching your achy wings, you basked in the light wind, and warm sunlight‒ soaking it deeply into your wings. As a light fae (you were pretty sure anyway, your family deflected any questions of your origins), the sunlight felt especially good on the delicate appendages on your back, too bad this itchy wing prevented you from feeling it in your light hair. However, that would leave you completely vulnerable to people finding out your identity‒ and no good sunbath would be good enough to make up for the verbal abuse you would suffer if that were to happen. You tried not to think about that place; the cold, dark closet; the venomous words‒ ah, no, time to get to work.

It’s almost the culture festival, and I want a couple more pieces to what I have planned already. It’s my duty as Art Club president to act as model for the underclass men…

Opening your leather bag, you pulled out a sealed palette, some bristle brushes, palette knife, and some linseed oil you extracted yourself. As a member of the Pomefiore dorm, you took quiet pride in your collection of homemade oils, tinctures, and pigments you made specially to improve the longevity, quality, and opaqueness of your works. Though you had been originally sorted due to your family’s involvement in dealing expensive health and beauty potions, you thanked the great seven you were placed into a dorm that appealed to the prestigious image you had to maintain, and your parents constant pushing for modeling, while also fitting within your interests of artistic pursuits of painting and experimenting with paint formulas. However, you weren’t too fond of the rococo* design the Pomefiore dorm favored, and gravitated more to the gothic styles of the Diasmonia dorm. Despite your fondness for the dorm, you did not excel especially in magic like other fae, and in fact strictly forbidden in your home to practice magic.

Do not bring such demonic workings into our house! Your existence is a manifestation of the devil’s doings as it is. Pathetic child.

The center of your chest sunk to your stomach reminded of those words by your “mother”. You quietly tugged your uniform back on, pulling your hood over your head once more. Rolling your sleeves up, you began to layer thick globs of paint onto the impasto below.

———————————————————————————————

“Young Master! I’ve returned with some reading I thought you would be interested in!”

Malleus set down his borrowed copy of Power of Artistic Appropriation: Postwar Victory of Gothic Fae Architecture , slightly taken back from the tall stack of books that was dropped onto the table.

“You didn’t have to do that Sebek…Though I do thank you, these readings seem intriguing and would serve well to the Gargoyle Appreciation Club during the cultural festival coming soon.”

“My pleasure young master!” Sebek boomed, bowing. As Malleus leafed through some of the books that appealed to his interest, his eyes paused at the sight of a wad of purple sticky notes lining almost every page of a chapter, decorated in neat cursive written in red ink. He softly traced the curly lettering, feeling goosebumps on his skin as his fingertips felt the raised paper from the ink soaking into the thin paper. He was entranced by the intricate notes, full of excitement and terms he had never heard before, steeping to every inch of his mind as he devoured the chapter. To his absolute pleasure, he also found a few pieces of nimbly scrawled sketches of the types of gargoyles the chapter introduced. Though they were rough, he could sense a sort of liveliness and breath to them. He hadn’t even seen Sebek excuse himself to club activities, engrossed in the internal dialogue of mystery person who had left their pretty cursive and sketches in every crevice of this particular chapter.

Mn? Pretty? When had he decided that?

However, such a melody he could imagine from this person’s internal dialogue and vibrant imagery could only be described as pretty .

Not even bothering to finish the book in its entirety, he leafed through the pages once more. It was imperative that he find this mystery person immediately, of course to ask for their help in for his club during the cultural festival. Could it be a fourth year? That would definitely be a challenge finding them. He quickly checked the library card‒ ah, no luck, just a stamp from today, presumably from Sebek and two more from more than 60 years ago. Could this mystery person made the notes in the library without checking it out? Dozens of scenarios spun in his head. Maybe he could ask the librarian? Or he could ask the art-related students on campus?

He felt and airy warmth bubble from his chest grazing his hands across the sketches, and annotations once more. The sun had began to set, slowly sinking his dormitory in a blazing orange. Perhaps he could think of a solution on his nightly walk.

———————————————————————————————

After stopping by Sam’s shop to peruse through his collection of pigments and oils, you were struggling to balance the precious vials of rare Lapis Lazuli* and Tyrian Purple* powders for your next painting. It had been an expensive decision, surely your funds were going to run out soon, which meant you would be having to complete a modeling job sooner or later.

You really should have taken up the offer for a bag damn it. Your bad habit of declining the smallest bit of help had gotten the best of you once more.

The sky was beginning to darken, a deep mauve hue starting staining the vermillion sunset.

Between the day you’ve had today, your scrunched up wings folded uncomfortably under your uniform, the itchy wig that was digging into your temples, and the mere idea of having to interact with your parents to acquire merely a percentage’s worth of the work you do for them‒ this was too much. You slumped to the ground, setting all of your items down while holding back the tears that were burning the back of your eyes. However, after a beat, you swallowed that feeling like a rock, plunging it deep down in your chest, cradling it within the slow, heavy breaths as if to lull it back to sleep.

Go down go down go down go down

“Are you alright?”

You slowly pulled your gaze to a towering figure, one with the same sharp green eyes that bored into you in Trein’s classroom. For a minute you questioned what planets could have aligned for such encounters to happen today.

“Y-Yes! Sorry, excuse me!” Malleus’ steel gaze watched you immediately scramble for your things, cupping it within your clumsy arms, but not without your canvas slipping from your hand and thumping onto the ground.

“I can help you carry that for you. You’re a Pomefiore student?”

I am absolutely going to scream

“Oh…um, sorry, thank you! And y-yes, third year Pomefiore student. It’s this way…”

Ah yes as if a third year like him doesn’t know where things are

The man hummed in acknowledgement, before following behind with your canvas in hand.

“What were you doing out all alone here? It’s almost completely black out, and a child of man like you cannot see in the dark. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m sorry! I-I was just painting after school to prepare for the cultural festival for the Arts club, and I took too much time at the store choosing pigments for my next painting and I’m so stupid, I didn’t bring a bag to fit all my supplies and the paint still isn’t dry yet because I didn’t add enough fast drying medium this time and‒“

“You’re part of the Arts Club?”

For a second you were taken off guard from his geninely interested expression. Rarely you would see such an expression when you explained the activities of the Art Club. Usually you were met with passive stares or a polite nod before they moved on.

“Yes, I’m the president actually! If you’d like, please visit us during the cultural fair!” You wanted to gush about the events you held, and your specific special interests within the field, but you held back.

No one would want to hear that.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea, child of man.”

“Ahaha…child of man?”

“What your species is called. ‘Humans’, correct?” You felt his eyes turn towards yours, your cheeks slightly rosy with the intense eye contact. You prayed to the great seven that he had not sensed anything from you, especially with the bitter potions that you choked down everyday to appease your family’s relentless reminder for you to be anything other than what you were.

“…yeah…haha I-I guess. Oh! You should join the Art Club if you’re that interested. We’re always short on members so I’m usually the only one organizing and participating in events…”

“Ah, as much as I would like to…I’m already in my own club, the Gargoyle Appreciation Club. I appreciate the offer however.”

“Oh…that’s a shame‒ ah! Not that your club isn’t interesting‒ in fact‒“ you caught yourself mid sentence, preventing yourself from dumping the loads of information that was threatening to bubble up from your throat. You were pretty sure you had used up a life time’s worth of luck with today’s events when the Pomefiore’s dormitory came into view to save the day.

“W-We’re here. I think I can carry the short distance to my room. Thank you for helping me!”

“No need for thanks, child of man. I look forward to seeing your presentation at the cultural festival.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for your booth as well!” After seeing him off, you scurried into the dormitory, eager to get a head start on preparing your paint mixtures before your plain air tomorrow.

“Ah L’artiste en folie! Marvelous timing.”

“Indeed!”

“(name), good timing. We were just talking about you”

I am absolutely at my limit‒

You leaned your canvas against the staircase ( for quick escape ), turning to the voice.

“Yes, vice dorm leader, dorm leader? Oh, and headmage Crowley, a pleasure.” You answered with a curt bow. Just like you were taught.

“We were wondering if L’artiste en folie would be willing to draft up some posters for the cultural festival!”

“I had a connection with someone in the professional art industry but they bailed last minute. Rook suggested we ask you instead, based on the art galleries you’ve been holding every now and then.”

Weird that they know about that. You make sure never to sign your works in case of any slim chance your family would hear about your activities at Night Raven College, and to mix it with the submissions by the other Art Club Members. However you haven’t seen many other members or artists wandering around the campus with canvases as big as yours, or struggling to balance vials of previous pigment to your dorm ah, you definitely weren’t as sneaky as you thought. Still you glanced over at Rook, he is a hunter after all, you figured, he’s likely trained in careful observation. You’ve also seen him sneaking around spying on people, so, there’s that.

“I said it was a brilliant idea Mx. D’aramitz! You must! I’ll even offer compensation for the job!”

Your ears definitely perked up at the sound of that.

Hm. Money and some practice for my calligraphy. Temping offer…

“…Ok. I do have one condition though since the posters will be in public.”

“Phenomenal!” Crowley shot up, already ready to take his leave upon sealing the deal. You flinched in surprise at the sudden movement. “Your condition is?”

“Please leave out any evidence of my name or involvement in this project. That is all.”

The three paused, slight surprise adorned on their faces. Crowley was the first to relax, letting out a hearty laugh.

“Haha! That’s it? That can be arranged Mx. D’aramitz, rest assured. Ah this is wonderful news…” Crowley began to mumble something about not having to spend so much money on professional artists, which you quirked your eyebrow at. Oh well, you weren’t really in the position to be lecturing people about money right now, taking note of how painfully light your wallet was in your pocket after your visit at Sam’s.

“L’artiste en folie! Truly magnifique that you’re pouring your artists soul for us to save us from the absolute peril!”

He’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit.

“We appreciate this (name). Here is the information we need on the posters. We’ll leave creative liberty for the design aspects. I trust your taste after seeing your work on display.” Vil handed you a piece of paper with the date, time, groups, and main highlights of the cultural festival. You had a feeling it was going to be a busy few weeks before the festival.

———————————————————————————————

Notes:

Adding bits and pieces of my knowledge of medieval/gothic architecture is hard when you’ve only taken 1 course on it lol. Though I consider my art history knowledge to be pretty well rounded, my academic concentration isn’t in the Middle Ages (it's contemporary/modern and non European) so please correct me if you see anything wrong, because my autistic brain likes information yum.

Spolia: Basically when you defeat someone, break apart pieces of an Artwork of their country and incorporate it into a symbol of victory. Not only does this save time during the building process, but it's also a political/social/religious/symbolic fuck you to your opponent. Also can show that you're building upon the foundations of the old to rebuild the new.

The Arch of Constantine is a very good example of this. A lot of examples I've personally seen are triumph arches. Lots in France because they're always fighting

Rococo: From what I can largely gather, while the exterior of the castle is largely based off of German castles post medieval era, the interior of the Pomefiore’s dormitory is heavily inspired by Rococo design. Similar to Rococo art, the style is very frivolous, decadent, and overall excessive. I imagine due to the reader’s family connections which I will establish further on, their home is in a similar style, perhaps with more religious elements.

If you look up the Palace of Versailles (A heightened example of Rococo culture right at the prissy center of the movement) and compare it side by side to the hallway of the Pomefiore's dorm its literally the same. I took one glance at the wiki page and was like wait I've seen that before. Low and behold the French have come to haunt me everywhere

Gothic: people have a lot of misconceptions about this word including and especially the people at Disney lmao their architecture is a mess. But "gothic" as we art historians use it refers more to a list of characteristics than a specific time period (Though usually around the 12th to 16th century). You've seen the stained glass windows with the thin frames and the dynamic, pointy architecture from sites like Notre Dame de Paris (the one that caught on fire also the one Victor Hugo based the Hunchback for Notre Dame off of‒ praying for cool architecture in the new dorm based off of the Disney movie so I can analyze the fuck out of it.) or the Notre Dame de Reims‒ these are actually late gothic when the technology to build higher, more airy structures was available. But there's actually a lot more to gothic architecture, like I mentioned buttresses which allow gothic architecture to be as tall as it is, or gothic arches, ribbed vaulting, arcade (essentially an added strip of decorated wall), and a long long nave that leads to a central apse. Oh and of course Malleus' favorite, gargoyles. They actually served a very functional purpose in the beginning, aiding in water flow off the building to prevent erosion. It is also told that the head of a Gargoyle helps in repelling evil spirits which cathedrals would obviously want to do. I imagine this to be some sort of symbol of technology and innovation on the Fae's part, and perhaps used as a symbol of victory over humans during the war?? Idk I'm making shit up and I think too much but I think the idea is interesting

Not going to go too far into explaining because it gets long but Diasmonia's high windows, separation of each section of the wall (ie the arcade and clerestory) and gothic arches (the ones that are pointed slightly at the top) and ribbed vaulting makes be believe the artists were going for early gothic or at least was what they were referencing when designing the interior of the dorm (Look up Sens Cathedral if you want an example). Really wish they leaned more heavily into the gothic thing and designed it to be more late gothic with "goth" touches, but maybe the new dorm based on the movie based on the book based on the late gothic Cathedral has me having hope we will get our beautiful stained windows and voluptuous flying buttresses

Lapis Lazuli is the mineral that makes Ultramarine, but it's super fucking expensive and it's been heralded as a symbol of royalty since the Bronze age by some of the oldest civilizations in the world (Bull Headed Lyre of Ur is one famous example of how it was used to honor royalty, even in death since it was a funerary object). The color is also featured in Vermeer's Girl with the Pearl Earring. Mans was rich

Tyrian purple is the pigment made out of crushing a certain sea snail, also expensive because it's very labor intensive, and has a specific locality in availability. I'd like to think Vil's robes are dyed in this color just because he's extra like that. I also imagine Sam making a deal with Azul to acquire the snails/pigment which is why reader is so very broke after purchasing it lol

#twisted wonderland angst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twisted wonderland malleus #twisted wonderland malleus draconia #malleus draconia #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 writer #twisted wonderland x oc #twisted wonderland rook hunt #rook hunt #twisted wonderland vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit #dire crowley #sebek zigvolt #Twisted Wonderland Silver #twisted wonderland Lilia Vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge #malleus imagine #Malleus angst #mozus trein #Angst #hurt/comfort #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland hurt/comfort

[ilovejoel-andjavi]

hi everyone! this is my first post, and these are some of my fav pedro’s replies on reddit!

Fav fruit: any kinds of berries, quote on quote “I would say that my favorite fruit, I like berries. I like any kind of berry, blueberries or raspberries or blackberries or strawberries.”

fav animal: elephant, quote on quote “Elephant. I'm just completely transfixed when I see one on television or at a zoo. I find them sort of magnificent, and humorous, and intelligent, and gentle, and dangerous, and I just think that they are incredible.”

His Fav Chilean Wine: “Chile has very, very good Merlot. And I would say that, hmm, there's one called the Alma Viva, it's a Cabernet, and that's very good.”

His opinion on microwaved pizza “I have the same problem. I eat out a lot. I unfortunately don't really know how to cook for myself. I try to find good things to eat, but sadly am often on the go, and a microwaveable pizza finds its way into my situation more often than not.”

Fav sock color to wear: “I'd say the easiest socks to wear would be black socks. And the most fun socks would be some sort of, you know, odd pattern of purple, aqua and green.”

His opinion on Dogs or cats: “Well, I LOVE Dogs like there's no tomorrow. And unfortunately I have an allergy to cats, although I find them to be beautiful creatures.”

Role model: “I had a lot of different role models. My dad took me to the movies my whole life, he was a big movie buff, and me and my sister would go with him to the movies a few times a week. So I had so many heroes, like all of the major actors. I would have to say one of my favorite actors is probably Gene Hackman, but that's a really hard question to answer because I've had so many heroes that I've admired, filmmakers that i have loved, I remember seeing Steven Soderbergh's first movie when I was really young and then seeing every movie he did after that. I was a very book reading, television and movie watching geek. So it makes it endless in terms of the amount of people that I have admired.”

Fav superhero: “Sorry for not picking an ACTUAL superhero, but one of my favorite characters that was a superhero to me was Beatrix Kiddo in the Kill Bill movies, played by Uma Thurman in the Kill Bill Movies 1 & 2. For me she is one of the fiercest movie characters of all time.”

Does he like hummus? “I love hummus. I was eating hummus this morning.”

Someone asked “Prince Oberyn, what undergarments are present under your tunic?” his response on reddit was “Um, well, I've got some pants on and under that... skin.”

Someone asked “How long would you last in a zombie apocalypse? Cheers for the AmA, and I hope to see you in more stuff soon <33” He replied, “One of my favorite movies is 28 Days Later, and I used to think about this a lot after I watched that movie because I feel like it's such a terrifyingly realistic possible circumstance, that a virus would turn these people into rabid zombies, so I kind of wondered often how i would survive. I remember that I had a dog at the time, and I knew that i would have to keep her alive at all costs. I don't know exactly how well I would do, but I would probably do everything to keep myself and my friends safe. I might not last that long because I would probably sacrifice myself to save a family member or something like that. I'd like to think so anyway. I would say that so far I've been pretty lucky because my mom has good genes, and that's gotten me by, I am capable of watching more hours of television than I am doing exercise in a week, so it would really depend. I actually get out of breath really easily, so I think in a zombie apocalypse I would have to rely a bit more on my brain rather than my body.”

Fav sci-fi film: “GOOD QUESTION! OOOOH I have so many favorite science fiction films. I would say Alien and Aliens are two of my favorite scifi films. Also Children of Men would be one of my favorite science fiction films. I love the original Solaris and the remake. And even though it wasn't a film, the series Battlestar Galactica was one of my favorite TV shows.”

Fav disney film: “Even though it's associated more with Pixar, I would say Wall-E. And the Incredibles. Those are two of my favorite films of all time. And then as far as Disney, more of the classic animations, I would say my favorite Disney film is Dumbo. I like to cry, what can I say?”

Someone said, “Hi Pedro, thanks for doing this!

Just curious, Oberyn seems like a very calm and relaxed character most of the time in the show. Are you like that most days as well? If so, how do you manage to keep cool and stress free?”

he replied, “I unfortunately am not a stress-free person. I am so happy that Oberyn is coming across that way. I would love to be able to move through life with the ease with which he does. But that is not the case in my reality. I guess I relax with any opportunity to jump in the water, that is a good one, and of course i also watch a lot of TV. But I am not as cool and collected as Oberyn, unfortunately.”

Someone asked, “If you weren't an actor, what profession would you like to pursue? (Assuming skills aren't an issue!) Love your portrayal of Prince Oberyn, and I can't wait until next week's episode! <3”

he replied “If I wasn't an actor, hmm. It would be my fantasy to be a war journalist. Or teaching literature, maybe?”

part 2 soon!!

#pedro pascal

[saintsenara]

other women and of purer blood narcissa malfoy/severus snape explicit | 7.7k words

narcissa could not pinpoint the exact moment when she realised that married life was not what she expected. perhaps it had been when she had tried to make polite conversation with abraxas about the malfoys’ new business ventures in palermo, which were forcing lucius to spend several nights away from home a week, and her father-in-law had looked at her with pity and said that the family had no investments in italy as far as he knew. perhaps it had been lucius’ face last month, when she failed to get pregnant again, as she had every month for the three years they had been married. she had not expected, when lucius presented her with the magnificent diamond which seemed to be growing looser on her finger every day, that she would be so lonely.

narcissa is adrift, rattling around malfoy manor, when an equally lonely man comes into her lonely life.

this piece was written for @womenofthehouseofblack fest [you can find the other fics in the collection here].

author's notes under the cut

the title comes from voldemort’s line in deathly hallows, spoken when harry has just revealed to him that snape was in love with lily potter:

He desired her, that was all, but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him.

when i first read this, i immediately had one person in mind for voldemort to be speaking about: narcissa.

after all, she and snape definitely have a tension in half-blood prince, when she visits him at home - and how on earth does she know how to find his house so easily if she hasn’t been there before? - in cokeworth. 

and i have never been able to see snape and voldemort sitting down for a chat about women in general, but voldemort forcing him to confess an attraction to narcissa - a revelation which would give the dark lord the opportunity to humiliate lucius, draco, bellatrix, lily’s memory, and snape and narcissa all at once - is something which seems extremely plausible.

all of which is to say, i think that snarcissa is canon.

other women and of purer blood is set in the summer of 1978, after lucius and narcissa have been married for three years and snape has just left school. it is primarily an examination of two things: class and gender. [so, yes, as many commenters have pointed out, the lady chatterley’s lover vibe is deliberate.]

in her post-series writing and interviews, jkr is clearly of the opinion that the wizarding world is egalitarian in terms of gender - and certainly aspects of its history, such as the fact that there were female ministers for magic centuries before british muggles found themselves with a female prime-minister, support this. but, within the seven-book canon itself, gender roles do seem to be considerably more restrictive than she believes, especially when they intersect with the expectations of social class. the canonical narcissa, like almost every other pureblood woman we meet [such as Molly weasley] does not work, and her narrative arc across the series is defined by her role as wife and mother.

i have always wondered about how narcissa must have felt a pressure to conform to class and gender expectations, owing to both bellatrix and andromeda’s rejection of social convention [for example, i think you can read narcissa’s estrangement from andromeda as something she feels she should do, while bellatrix wants to do it]. in nor all that glisters gold [author’s notes here], another piece i have written for this fest, i look at how bellatrix chafes against marriage, which she sees as coming with a curtailing of her ambition. the narcissa of other women and of purer blood feels the same - reflecting on the opportunities for work and study that her marriage has brought her.

bellatrix also chafes against motherhood. the narcissa of this piece is uncomfortable with the fact that her own childlessness aligns her with her wayward sister - and, as she points out, that motherhood is something which andromeda has "won" against her.

bellatrix is happy, though, to be thought immodest - something lord voldemort is all too happy to make use of. [poor narcissa, realising that bella is having much better sex than she has ever had, despite the fact lucius is hot and voldemort appears to be made of melting wax…]

narcissa, in contrast, has a more complicated relationship with modesty and desire. the description of the witches’ clothing is intended to bring to mind the high-collared and long-sleeved dresses of the edwardian era - which lacked the looseness and ease of the medieval clothing magical people are often depicted as wearing. narcissa in this is someone who is rather buttoned up, and who finds it difficult to express her own wants and opinions selfishly. that lucius - who is written here as neither cruel nor abusive, just distant - doesn’t realise this, and assumes that her need for validation and attention [a trait shared by the canon draco - he must get it from his mother] can be bought with pretty presents, is but one cause of the rift between them.

snape, in contrast, provides narcissa with the comfort of understanding. where lucius patronises her about her "little parties", he supports her greater ambitions. he also offers her a way of freeing herself - even if just for the time they’re together - from the restrictions of her class.

[as i’ve mentioned in the notes to nor all that glisters gold, this is something i also believe voldemort offers bellatrix, and the parallels between snarcissa and bellamort in other women and of purer blood are deliberate.]

the canonical lord voldemort does not appear to respect narcissa - he clearly underestimates her, and his complacency in assuming that she isn’t a complex person proves to be his undoing. but he does not, i think, lack respect for her because of her role in the home. we are almost always shown voldemort in a domestic context in canon - which is fascinating, given that he’s always emphasised as someone who has managed to infiltrate the masculine-coded spaces of wizarding politics - and we see this play out in other women and of purer blood. voldemort recruits his death eaters through the male patron-client networks which are shown to govern wizarding society [lucius’ letter of introduction for snape, for example], but he also makes use of women’s social networks. lucius may not completely appreciate why voldemort regards gossip and female friendship and who has asked whom to be a bridesmaid as useful [narcissa, who is constantly subjected to gossip, understands very well], but the dark lord has clearly been reading up on the spread of all sorts of social movements in which women play a key role in converting their male relatives to the cause…

i also don’t think that voldemort’s lack of respect for narcissa comes from her gender. his lack of respect for lucius however, does…

lucius malfoy’s relationship with his masculinity is something which is displayed very interestingly in canon. he is written as somewhat effete - something which was played up in the films - but he also clearly regards himself both as a protector and as someone whose role as the male head of an elite family should be accompanied by a certain level of deference from men whom he considers beneath him. this is the reason why voldemort chooses to emasculate him in the opening chapter of deathly hallows by taking his wand, and why voldemort keeps him confined to the domestic space of the manor from this point onwards. this masculine competition drives lucius’ relationship with snape in other women and of purer blood - in which he notices the flirtatious vibe between his wife and a man he considers his social inferior and chooses to assert his dominance with humiliating ease.

lucius’ relationship to his manhood is also why i am certain that voldemort knows about the unbreakable vow made between snape and narcissa in half-blood prince - he would be delighted to remind lucius that his failings as a death eater drove narcissa into the arms of another male protector. draco is, of course, not a character in this story, but his presence is still felt. after all, i have always wondered exactly how voldemort got his claws into him - and exactly what role narcissa played in it.

we have one suggestion here. when voldemort disappeared in 1981, narcissa breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was never going to collect on the debt she owed him for his silence…

she was wrong.

#asenora fics #snarcissa #narcissa malfoy #severus snape #other women and of purer blood #women of the house of black fest

[iliiuan]

I'm going to make a running list of things that make little to no sense in A Memory of Light. Things that unleash fury in my heart.

So far, I've got:

The Dragon's Peace

No really. This treaty is such nonsense I can't even articulate fully how bad it is. Add on top that Rand saved two thrones for his girlfriend and then turns around and says "No one get greedy now! Only one country per ruler!" Just gross.

Elayne running the Last Battle

Excuse me, what? She has zero experience. Again with the favoring your girlfriend nonsense. (From a character standpoint, she does make sense, being the skilled diplomat. But she's presented as war leader, which is not really her skill.) Anyways, it should have been Mat, obviously, but Sanderson couldn't manage that one simple plot point.

Ok, now she's in the Braem Wood being a pest because she can't believe the capabilities of the Two Rivers archers. WHY IS SHE EVEN THERE? She should be at the central command post, not running sorties on one of the battle fronts. What a complete disregard for chain of command.

Everyone deciding that Caemlyn absolutely must be rescued

I... don't get it. It's lost. It's far south, providing a magnificent distraction to the Shadow. Set up a kill net around the city, like whatever Rand had used on the Waygate in Shadar Logoth. Trollocs leave the city, trollocs get dead.

Perrin saying that there's no way to destroy the Waygate

Um, excuse me, were you not paying attention AT ALL to Loial's lectures? You remove both Avendesora leaves. Like what is even going on here.

Rhuarc and Amys insisting that the Aiel can do whatever the fuck they want at Shayol Ghul.

They just signed the Dragon's Peace and agreed that Elayne would lead. There is no way under ji'e'toh that they would immediately ignore their pledge.

Not inviting Seanchan and Shara to the party

Yes, I'm still bitter that not a single Aes Sedai thought to go check on Shara.

Also, Tuon definitely should have been there. My need for thoroughness and consistency demands it.

The numbers don't seem right

I haven't done the math, but there seem to be too many trollocs (where was there space for so many? And what did they eat?) and too many armies of the Dark, with a very small showing of forces for the Light. And then the small matter of so many channelers being turned. Like, I get that it would be a difficult war to win, but the numbers seem really skewed to me.

The Horn of Valere

Rand really didn't put together that Mat wasn't bound any longer? (Maybe not, ok ok, but still seems like he would have pondered it more.) Egwene really went to the Field of Merrilor to prepare for The Last Battle and didn't bother to bring the Horn of Valere with her? What level of unprepared bullshit is going on over here?

The Ogier

The world doesn't have enough food, so the most important thing the ogier can do is... fight? NO. Sure, send the warriors out, but have the rest sing food to life. I just. What a waste. (And a rather large lack of creativity.)

Pevara and Androl

An Aes Sedai (you know, the women who perfected the art of not responding to emotion) who's been alive over a hundred years (so she's definitely practiced) and is in the Red Ajah (you know, the Ajah that oddly doesn't have Warders), in a moment of panic, bonds a man who can channel.

I also was annoyed on my first read by having these randos all of a sudden occupying a rather large portion of the pov. After 14 books with a rather breathtaking cast, why are we exploring new people? I don't get it.

Cannon Misuse

They lined 100 cannons in four ranks across a road. That's 25 cannons across. That many cannons *might* fit across the monstrous 14 lane freeway behind my neighborhood. Maybe. That's *way* too many cannons for a forest road to nowhere.

Perrin Hesitating

You know, we finally have Rand being rational about female combatants, and now Perrin is hesitating over a fucking Forsaken? He didn't hesitate over the Shaido, so I'm calling bullshit. He would have taken Hessalam out immediately. Moonhunter maybe not, because he didn't put together who she was until it was obvious she was helping him. But going after Heartseeker is like starting a hunt, and my boy would NOT squirm just because she's a woman.

Dreamwalkers Abandon the Dream

The Aiel Wise Ones, for all their bluster, turn out to be neither particularly wise, nor particularly brave. "Ooh, the Dream is so scary now! We better stay away!" Meanwhile, the Forsaken continue to roam. Did they ever even consider hunting their enemy? Did they even notice the purple domes? Do they care at all about anything beyond the end of their noses?

And Egwene isn't any better. Instead of being on a battlefield pretending to be a warrior, she should have been in the Dream, hunting with Perrin.

The whole thing was really disappointing.

Gareth Bryne

How, exactly, is Graendal able to compel Gareth when he's Siuan's Warder and they're always together? She should have been noticed and rebuffed.

Plot Lag

Yes, it's a problem through the entire series, but The Last *Battle* ended up being a book and a half political mess plus lots of blood and gore. The whole Black Tower debacle? Should have been resolved already. Perrin hunting Slayer? Should have been resolved early, so that he's leading the Hunt as Rand *enters* Shayol Ghul. Mat getting fitted with Seanchan attire? Should have happened instead of sitting in Caemlyn for a month, because there's no way that letter doesn't just fall open after a few days, bellowing smoke and yelling that trollocs are about to invade.

Moiraine

She is constantly expressing emotions. This is not my Moiraine. What alien did the Finn return to us?

She's also back to giving really bad advice. I thought she had grown out of that? Le sigh

Story Imbalance

I sincerely thought that the war part would be maybe a third of the book, and then we'd get into the aftermath. I guess I was naive.

The Last Battle

Who the fuck approved a chapter over 150 pages long? WHO? Absolute insanity.

#wheel of time #wot spoilers #a memory of light spoilers

[signedeclipse]

In my douma phase sooo i want to request your prompt oneshot of Douma and a reader that has her own cult. :)))

-💀💕

You'd Think Its Paradise [Douma X Reader]

Reader is Immortal Female | General

Recomended Song - Angeleyes by ABBA

Faith. Religion. Conspiracy.

You had seen it all, been hand in hand in creating some of these human traits. Back in the beginning, you were labelled a human, then a miracle, followed by 'goddess,' and so on until the tradition that celebrated you died out to a few families.

Now, you were called 'the first one,' 'the original god.' You preferred y/n, though.

You had had plenty of time to consider what you were, everyone around you, and why you were different. Everything has answers was the very motto you were known for, but it wasn't true.

Because it only takes that last thought to break down everything you worked so hard for.

~~~

" But why are you unkillable? "

The void of a voice called to you as its husk followed along with your steps.

Your dear friend Douma once again tested the question on his blood-stained lips. You wondered if he ever got bored of asking, but that would require him to feel boredom at all.

" Why are you not, Douma? " A laugh fell past his lips at the question you always shot back. You both knew the answer; even demons were mortal, as everything but you had been.

This blood-thirsting creature never strayed too far from you when you would visit his mountain. It wasn't every day that two otherworldly beings got to mingle, and you were the only one he considered worthwhile.

After all, you wore that dried blue spider lily in your hair.

Douma noticed you wore it every time you visited him, now. You had all sorts of accessories you liked to exchange, each from different people who had long since passed. He assumed you wore it because it reminded you of him.

It would be a painful memory for anyone else, but you took it with a laugh. He broke you from your century-long rest to get it, and you cut his head off in return.

Fortunately for him, you weren't made of the only ore that could kill him. You helped him reattach it after lecturing the demon.

And then, you freaked out; because demons weren't supposed to exist.

But the past was over; in all that time, neither of you aged a day and instead went about your respective duties. Douma fooled his cult, and you took your righteous place with your following.

How your places of worship differ.

" Still eating those that don't know any better? " You always sounded so disapproving and disappointed; that never changed no matter how much you tried to adjust to the new ways of life. Demons were normal now, and they had to eat. To stop him would disrupt the natural flow of the world you wished to preserve, but you couldn't help feeling bad for your favourite species.

" Try not to sound so sad! " Douma never got what you saw in them, but perhaps he was biased. He had all kinds of people just like him, and you were the only of your kind.

As opposed to this desolate jail place of worship, you owned only a towering shrine. It was magnificent, hidden among mountains and protected by the nature surrounding it.

The section where your tomb sat was the most recent addition, but the oldest part dated back thousands of years.

Anyone came and went as they pleased, asking for blessings and leaving their offerings. Before you had fallen asleep, you used to speak and answer to them, but recently all prayers were logged in stacks of books left behind for you to read.

Even now, you carried one in your hand about halfway through it.

You promised you'd read every last page to make up for your absence and, when ready, visit the families themselves.

Occasionally the upper moon visited your shrine, especially when you hadn't gone to see him in all too long, but you always ushered him out. 'Too destructive' 'Ruining the peace,' you always had a new reason.

Still, Douma was your friend, and he wouldn't actually go out of his way to cause you harm.

As much as he wanted that blue spider lily, it was useless if it wasn't alive, and it seemed Muzan had no clue you existed, so what was the harm in keeping his pretty little secret to himself?

As expected of someone so unique, Douma liked you. At least that's what he assumed it was.

If he felt so calm, happy, free in your presence, then surely it just meant he had subconsciously fallen for a god. No person could truly be free from emotion; it was just infrequent that it hit him, so the fact that you consistently bubbled up his heart proved it.

The sound of your steps stopped; Douma's soon did the same as he glanced back at you. Your eyes were staring right into his, searching.

" Douma, I have been keeping something from you. "

' Oh? ' You were so direct that it almost startled him. Since when did his delicate flower know how to be so assertive?

He turned his body completely to face you, stepping closer so he could hear you better.

" You know that prophecies are pretty standard in any religion, I'm sure? " There wasn't much point in waiting for an answer, but you had to take a moment to cull over your following words, " Well, in all truth, I knew I would meet you since the day I came to light, but I didn't expect it to be like this. "

' How vague,' you thought to yourself, almost regretful that you couldn't say more. It would be wrong to meddle too much, but you knew there was only so much time left for Douma.

" Oh! Well, I know. "

You didn't expect a reply, certainly. One of his pale hands just waved it off while the other covered his mouth as he laughed. Still, you saw his pointed teeth peek between his fingers.

" If we are sharing secrets, it doesn't bother me. I am just glad I'll be spending it with you. "

He sure was a strange one, but you weren't innocent either. No average person could confess love without even using the word or any that might hint at a relationship.

Yet you each admitted to your weakness for the other. A god who would give up on changing the future for a demon. A demon that would give up immortality for a god.

You supposed it was the better way; asking the other for dinner wouldn't work either; you shuddered just thinking of the carnage.

Author Note -  SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU AGAIN SKULL ANON I was worried you'd never come back hah! I hope you enjoy this concept, I know its one of my more abstrtact writings on here <3

Word Count - 1,087

Art Credit - しろらば！

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #oneshot #kny oneshots #kny #kny x reader #x reader #reader insert #kimetsu no yaiba #douma #douma x reader

[mish-ka]

Kuch Toh Hua Hai.

A/N: Heyy, this is my very first fanfic that I've ever written. I hope you guys enjoy it. Please let me know if you enjoy it.

|| Chapter 1 || NEXT

Stepping through the threshold of his house, the emptiness of it bothers Ram. It pulls at his heart strings as his scan the room. Perhaps this is why he stays at work late in the night so that when he comes home from work, he won't be aware of the loneliness lurking in his home's shadows.

Ram’s heart desired to come home to his family. If his nanna was alive, he would have been reading the books in Ram's study, looking for strategies for eluding the British.

If his amma was alive, the aroma of her mouthwatering meals would welcome him home. She would make a big deal out of his tardiness before feeding him by hand. To help him relax, she would rub oil on his head.

If his tammudu was alive, he wouldn’t stop bugging Ram. He would have Ram’s head for not bringing him anything from the market. Then he would whine at how their amma only loves Ram and then go on to fight with Seetha, pulling her hair and annoying her.

He wondered what it would be like to have his cousin, Seetha here. It was true that both Chinna and Seetha would be a menacing duo. The two were the definition of mischievous. It was also true that they would take any chance to tease or play pranks on him.

Babai lived a few blocks away, but it just wasn’t the same as having his family all in one house. Like they used to in the village. Ram knows that his babai missed his daughter, Seetha everyday, just like Ram missed his family.

The loneliness of house ate at his soul, fueling the fire of his survivor’s guilt. Would it have been different if Ram would’ve been faster that day? Would Ram's sacrifice of himself have been preferable to that of his father's?

Ram places his hat on his study table, taking in the mess of books scattered throughout the room. Knowing that he was the one who had to clean the room, Ram let’s out a sigh.

With a stretch, Ram gets to work. He begins by categorising his books according to various subjects and genres. He simply liked it, and it made it simple for him to locate the book he was looking for.

Then he gets started on figuring out how to organize his desk. Now that was a task because if anything Ram was as messy as they came. He might seemed organized but when you talk about his study room, he is the epitome of clumsy.

Cleaning the study room takes Ram about an hour and a half. Ram realizes that it is far too late to start preparing the ingredients for his meal after taking a quick glance at his clock. He also has a dim inkling of eating dinner tonight. He may possibly skip dinner.

Ram’s train of thought is broken with a soft knock on his front door. A frown dances on Ram’s face, as he knows that its late at night. Who could be knocking at his door? That too at this hour?

The knocking become a little more persistent, and Ram places the journal in his hand on the table and then heads towards his front door, wondering who it can be.

While walking through the varandah, Ram can make out the gentle chimes of a woman’s payal. His frown widens as a result. A woman at his door at that hour of the night? He hoped nothing had gone wrong.

What Ram isn’t ready for is a breath taking woman with a beautiful smile on her cupid lips. Ram knows its wrong. He shouldn't spend so much time staring at an unmarried woman, but he can't help it because she is so magnificent.

Her creamy skin enhances her striking features as she basks in the moonlight. Her cheeks have a rosy glow that resembles the sight of freshly squeezed pomegranates, and her button-nose shines under the light.

Chocolate brown eyes, the hue of life like the Earth, mystical and as divine and vivid as the lotus. Long eyelashes and large, lotus-like eyes that are overflowing with innocence, curiosity, and playfulness. Her brows arch perfectly in the shape of a bow.

Her curvy body is covered with a simple white saree with a cream border and a bronze short-sleeve blouse. She wears a simple gold pendant around her neck with an small idol of Sri Ram hanging from it in addition to the saree.

Her ears are adorned with small gold studs that have a chain connecting to her hair. Brown bangles dannce on both her wrists, complimenting her skin tone.

The woman clears her throat, snapping Ram from his shameful staring. Feeling embarrassed at being caught, Ram feels the back of his ears and neck heat up.

Composing himself, Ram finally musters the courage to glance in the woman’s intoxicating lotus eyes.

“Ji?” [Yes?]

The woman is a little alarmed at Ram’s deep voice, but she still manages to answer. “Oh I am Y/N. I just moved in next door from Calcutta. I saw that no one was home until an hour ago, so I thought you might’ve not prepared dinner, so I might bring some for you as well.”

Y/N. The name seemed to complement her face in some way. It seemed as though she was the only person this name was designed for.

Plus the aroma of delicious food coming from the covered plate made him hungry. Now that he thinks about it, he’s famished.

“I am Ram, and thank you. I was just thinking about skipping dinner because I was too exhausted to prepare anything.” Ram answers, accepting the plate from Y/N’s alta claded hands.

At Ram's words, Y/N furrows her brow. "Don't even consider going to bed hungry. From now on, don’t worry about dinner. I live alone so I can always have a dining partner. I can prepare dinner for both of us.

Ram feels his chest grow warm, and he can't help but smile brightly, something he hadn't even realised he was capable of doing in the aftermath of his parents' deaths.

“I'm really grateful, thank you. And I apologise so much for adding to your workload. You must be busy as well.” Ram tries to be polite, even though from the inside he’s quite excited.

Y/N shakes her head and says, "Oh no, I tutor young kids, and they usually visit my house. I stay at home all the time. You're not in any way making my work more difficult.”

Ram simply observes the woman while grinning warmly and holding the plate in his palms. Nowadays, he hardly ever encountered kindness like that in individuals, especially the nature of his line of work. Usually with his profession people tended to steer clear of his path.

“Would you like to join me for dinner?” Ram is quick to question.

Unfortunately for Ram, Y/N shakes her head. “I am sorry, I can’t join you tonight. It’s just that I have some work. But you can join me for dinner tomorrow. It’s better than eating in silence.”

“Sure. See you tomorrow then.”

“See you tomorrow, Ram.”

Ram then observes as Y/N walks away, her payal making gentle chiming noises as her alta-clad feet make contact with the earth. Her pallu sways behind her, making her look like an apsara.

The last glance of her face, Ram tries to memorize as much of her features as he can, before she fully shuts her door, flashing Ram a smile one more time.

Ram stands still, mesmerized by the woman. Ram stays in his spot, his eyes fixed on the door of his new neighbour as the time passes and the breeze picks up.

However, that doesn't last long because the hot plate burns his flesh abruptly. Turning his gaze to the plate, Ram smiles at the plate, lifting the cover, only to almost have his knees buckle at the delicious food.

Rice, Roti, dahi, and a two bengali sabzis that he doesn’t know of. But what captures his attention is the bowl of kheer, decorated with dry fruits. Just the sight is so magnificent that Ram can’t wait to finish the food and get to dessert.

Kheer was always his favourite, especially if it was made from his amma. The way Y/N had decorated her kheer was exactly the same way his amma did.

With a huge grin, Ram shuts the door behind him and looks around his home, admiring how wonderfully lit it is. It appears as though all of the previous emptiness has vanished after meeting Y/N.

Perhaps it was time for him to start interacting with and getting to know his neighbours better. And he was eagerly anticipating the arrival of night tomorrow and the moon's illumination of the street. He realises that he always feels famished after work.

For the first time in years, Ram felt something different in the air. He cannot place a finger on it, but it is there. Shaking his head, he heads to have dinner and finish for the night.

Kuch toh hua hai.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed it. Let me know if I made any mistakes and if I should fix something. Constructive Criticism is always welcomed.

Also let me know if you want a part two or if it should just be a one-shot.

Tagging: @budugu @rambheemisgoated @thewinchestergirl1208 @shreyalokesh @bromance-minus-the-b @juhiiiiii @adikavy-deactivated2022071920220719 @chaanv @chaotic-moonlight @aasthuu @kashti15 @saanjh-sakhi @ronaldofandom @unmadana @nyotamalfoy @obsessedtoafault @iamhereforthefanfics @sleeepishlyy @maraudersbitchesassemble @phoenix666stuff @rishi-sita @anyavaramyr

#ram x reader #ramaraju x reader #jr ntr #rrr #rrr tarak charan #rrr x reader #komuram bheem #rrr movie #desi tag #rrr fanfic #rrr film

[rings-of-power-realm]

10 star reviews about The Rings of Power 💚

The first season isn't even finished yet and already I have recommended this show to friends and family more than any previous media. Every episode so far (5 released) have surpassed my expectations, which were fairly high going in. As someone who has read all of Tolkien's published works (some more than I'd care to admit), anyone saying that "Tolkien is turning in his grave" has absolutely no idea what they're talking about. It was always going to be walking a thin line between creative choices and already established canon, but I can see, so far anyway, that they have absolutely aced it. If the show continues to be as great as it has thus far, I can see this being one of the all time great masterpieces of TV history, and for many years to come. It's incredibly rare that I won't have criticisms of some kind, especially for something I am passionate about, and the only criticism I have of the Rings of Power is that I can't listen to the sound track 24 hours a day, because I have to sleep at some stage. Bear McCreary has written a masterpiece worthy of being pinned up on the wall with Howard Shore's work from the Lord of the Rings.

                                                         🧝

Don't listen to the negative reviews. Some people have an idea of what something should be in their own mind. I too have read mostly all of Tolkien's books. You form a world in your mind from those words. It's yours it's personal. This show is Magnificent. It's a big bold dive into Middle Earth. Beautifully filmed and acted. The first too episodes are structured in a way to set a scene for the multiple storylines for multiple characters which as the series progresses will merge in to one common fight against the darkness. It's absolutely fantastic and if you don't watch it because of someone's snobby 1/10 then you will be missing out.   

                                                        🧙‍♂️

I can't believe people who are giving this such negative reviews. Who cares if it's not the way you think it should be portrayed because of your version of what you think you read from his original works. It is fantastically entertaining, incredibly well shot and produced, and while the story lines were slow to get rolling, and I don't necessarily think that some of the characters lineup with how they were portrayed in the Lord of the Rings movies later, it really doesn't matter. These are NEW. I can't wait for each episode to come out, I look forward to watching these every week, and I would love to be able to see all of them in the theater. The first two we saw through a free preview, and I wish I could watch every single episode on a huge screen! Enjoy them for what they are.

                                                          🏹

This is the first prequel I have ever seen that was not a disappointment. I love the acting, the faithfulness to Tolkien's vision, the use of reworked ideas/themes/dialogue from the Lord of the Rings, and the compelling worldbuilding. It is important to remember that this is an interpretation, not an adaptation, as this story is based on timelines in the Appendices to LOTR and not on Tolkien stories. Therefore, the showrunners had to invent story arcs and characters to flesh out the story. If they had note done this, then the show would be boring and empty. They did a great job filling in the gaps and told a story that I have already rewatched many times.

                                                         🧝🏿‍♂️

I almost didn't watch because of other reviews but I've learned to not even pay much attention to them. This feels just like Lord of the Rings to me. It could actually be its own movie. The acting is great, the scenery and graphics are amazing. I've been hooked and entertained since the first episode! Can't wait to see more.

                                                         🗡️

I was putting off watching this for a while but one night I couldn't find anything to watch and I put this on and now I'm glad I did. It's the first thing I look forward to after a long day of work. I think the plot is fantastic. I read a review that said they didn't know where the plot was going but how can you not? It's very easy to follow. I'm in love with the series already.

I am blown away by the quality of this production. There is nothing like it. Although it is not an original story written by JRR Tolkien, it is an interesting one; an important backstory.

Although the story unfolds slowly, like in most series, it has a decent amount of action and suspense. Watch it and indulge yourself in Middle Earth. And about all the criticism... This is my take: To me, there are two Middle Earths. (1) The original one that you have imagined when reading the books. (2) The world created by John Howe, Alan Lee, Peter Jackson, make-up artists, actors, etc., etc. This series fits right into the later one and does it justice.

                                                       🍂

Don't believe those fools who are giving bad ratings and negative reviews. I don't know why so much hate for this show. I'm so obsessed with this show right now and have watched all the six episodes non-stop and wanting more soooo badly. I mean the acting, the scenes, the dialogues and above all the VFX are soooo beautiful put together that will make your mind blown by this masterpiece. I've really enjoyed and didn't look away for a second while watching. It really took me to the place where I couldn't have imagine in my dreams. Please guys stop giving the bad ratings and reviews to a show like this one. This show deserve all the love and not the hate. We all should appreciate the work and efforts put in this show.

                                                        🔮

I think this prequel was beautifully done. The visuals are stunning, and story is excellent. There is a very satisfying last episode of season 1. I'm excited to see more. I had no problem adjusting and accepting the younger version of known characters, specifically Galadriel and Elrond. I think the acting and writing felt true to Middle Earth. I'm a fan of the books (Hobbit, LotR and The Silmarillian) which I read before the movies were released. I'm thrilled to have new Tolkien inspired material even if it's from the imagination of someone else, it is brilliant and a wonderful addition to the Middle Earth lore. There seem to be too many of the instant gratification society who were too impatient to wait for the payoff. Looking at the dates of many of the reviews is frustrating seeing that people couldn't reserve judgement until 10/14 after the season could be viewed as a whole. People have become to used to being able to binge a new show in a few days and not have to wait and dwell over what might happen and the new information presented in each episode. It has been exciting to see it unfold week by week. I'm glad for the return to this method of releasing a new series.                                                

Link to the 10 star reviews🍄

#the rings of power #positivity #and @ haters you're tel'athim #pls my elvish is rusty but there's so many good insults to choose from :D

[hunne-writes]

The Caraval Trilogy

Dates Read: 11/07/22 - 11/23/22

CARAVAL

“Every person has the power to change their fate if they are brave enough to fight for what they desire more than anything.” • I finished this book last year and absolutely fell in love with the world of Caraval! It’s such an exciting and immersive universe full of wonder and tricks and magic. As an anxious elder sister, I’ve never related to a main character as much as I did to Scarlett. I found Tella to be so impulsive and even though her decisions drove most of the plot in the beginning, I couldn’t help but be infuriated by her rash choices. But the twists and turns within the game of Caraval (and Julian’s dreamy and mysterious allure) kept me churning through chapters. This was a fast paced and exciting read. There were some rather odd descriptions and feeble world building that would sometimes take me out of a scene. I was also always rooting for more romance between Scarlet and Julian, up until the very end. I’m still going to read the sequel to see if they’re endgame and to see if Tella can earn my forgiveness ✨ • E’s Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️/5

______________________________________________________________

Dates Read: 12/03/22 - 12/26/22

LEGENDARY

“She loved the feeling of doing something bold enough to make her future hold its breath while she closed her eyes and reveled in the sensation that she’d made a choice with the power to alter the course of her life.” • While having Tella’s POV certainly helped me understand her better and I still found her to be a horrible decision maker, she made for a far more interesting main character. Although we got very little of them, I was glad Scarlett and Julian came back. The stakes in this game of Caraval felt so much more intense and dramatic. I found the lore surrounding the Fates and their mystical deck of cards to be so interesting and wished we’d had more of that world building in the first book. The strange descriptions were present in this one too, sometimes pulling me from the story. I could feel the attempt at a love triangle, and for once I was rooting for the other guy. Jacks was charismatic and helpful in ways Dante just wasn’t. But then again I’ve always loved the charming villains. Also, how old was Tella supposed to be? In my opinion, she should’ve been aged up. I’m still ready to see how everything comes together in the final book! • E’s Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️💫/5

______________________________________________________________

Dates Read: 12/29/22 - 01/08/23

FINALE

"Most of my life, I’ve romanticized death. I used to love the idea of something being so tremendous that it was worth dying for. But I was wrong. I think the most magnificent things are worth living for.” • This book picked up where the last one left off, except the sisters are no longer living in what is now Legend’s castle. They’re watching their mother’s prone body, waiting for her to wake up. But then all that effort immediately goes out the window. It felt like everything in the previous book was a waste! Although, I am thankful Scarlet played a much more meaningful role in this one. Finally we get answers about her powers and see her have some agency (even if it feels random and forced). I really wish the POV had been split more evenly between Scarlet and Tella. There were quite a few chapters I wished had been switched. Scarlet making Julian compete with her ex fiancé for her hand in marriage felt like a complete shift in her personality. Even though the ending was predictable, I’m happy they all lived happily ever after 💕 • E’s Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️/5

#booklover #books #bookish #bookobsessed #bookhaul #bookmail #bookaddict #booksbooksbooks #book review #booklr #caraval #legendary #finale #stephanie garber

[furioushoneymaple]

Oh, alright, okay, alright...

So, we awaken, with the start off of Hogwarts on fire, being burnt and physically melted down in the middle...

With the high walls of the far right and the far left were still, somewhat standing, and fighting from the fire. The interior structure, or of the exoskeleton of the castle is being melted. All the medals that it was, made to make itself into a magnificent structure has now been (as is still being) torn apart and was burned by an entity I do not know of or of yet. Though, a mix of events happen and flash like a trailer to a movie. What I confess to is to 3D, realistically-cartoonist, wooden carvings of the faces of Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens. Crowley seemed to be forming(phasing) on both sides, but, the way I remember, was first, Crowley was on the right side and then he swiftly, (ghostly) phased in, as he moved to the left. While the angel Aziraphale stayed on the left. Both of them were wooden carvings, as only they're head were. As they were also grasped in the hands of the entity that I was restricted to know of. So, these hands, as only the texture of what I know and the shape of them; we're like the darkest grey of a crow's beak, sharp and rough, as their hands and nails were jointed as one. They were long, strengthen, and polished. Even as they looked hollow, they were still huge, bold, and buff, but simple and not too complex of a design; and as The Entity tightened its grip on both figures, saying a few or more words, in a milliseconds, both of them were shattered into woodchips (into a fine dust, into many and multiple alterations of woodchips, but together, they both sprinkled out of the cracks of the hands/palms, just like rain, and just like glitter). The words uttered in the tone of the entity, these words (as the woodchips escaped) were stated in the lines of, "we must get rid of them first... they'll be in our way, as they are our highest threat; if we do not handle them next... then we will not have our freedom of will. Then we will not have our way in this world, in path of life, and in this path of choosing. This is a 'want' scenario, and I'll get what I desire..." as the scene then, swiftly glides to the faces of Blackbeard (this was not Blackbeard, but instead Davy Jones from the Pirates of the Caribbean) on the right and of a strange unknown ghost (was there a ghost?) next to him, their faces panel far in front of the burning castle, they're not on the ground, they're AS ghostly images, like a momentum(?) that they're present, but not here in the now. It's only a showing, making sure that the audience knows that they'll be featured in this event. As we continue to panel across the burning castle, the trailer unfolds more at the bottom of the castle, where a stingy, grey brick wall is now rubble (not broken as a hole, but as an arched hole), which is also an open door, now freeing the confused, half-troll and half-elf beings. They're very burly and cute-ly(they're very cute looking confused), very buff and also fluffy, with literal, fuzzy, green fur on them, and a concerning amount of them shirtless. But, importantly their fuzzy, mossy, green fur, had perfect, fuzzy and furry black dots, scattered perfectly on them too(in a spotty, circle, checkered pattern). Then only, a voice from a far, as all of them look up, the entity said (a different entity rather than the one mentioned before) saying, "you'll help us in this war... let me, let us help you out of your captured prison, out of the cells you were in... let me, let us free you... so please, do, take my hand." But, this is now where the story ends... nothing else happened after or was there besides that voice... and the dream ended with blue flames, and that was it. I woke up.

And now I'm here, I'm fully awake and I have never read the Harry Potter books, I have only seen a few of the movies. And importantly, I have watched all of Good Omens, though, I have not read the book, even though I have it twice, I have the book²; cus I'm more of a comic book reader, I don't read well without pictures. And the Pirates of the Caribbean? It's been so long since I've seen the movies, so How? But also, ehh ayyyyeeeee nice and impressive, but also, How? Why? And the defeated part me who doesn't know what to do? Can only say... "okay. Fine then..."

Anyway, have fun, I wish I made this up as awake, but enjoy. Hurray and Yippie? Or uh yeah, idk. Have fun or don't, but do tell me otherwise. Thank You.

#good omens #good omens season 2 #harry potter #pirates of the caribbean #blackbeard #ghost #ghosts #dreams #fever dream #castle #davy jones #i am so tired #i am so confused #i am so conflicted #i really dont know what to say or what to do #though what was a fun experience uhhhhhhhhh im just glad i got to remember and share it #aziraphale #crowley #i do plan to read the book Good Omen maybe thats why i had this dream it was in fact an Omen and this dream a lead for a joke ehehehe #i wish

[ledenews]

Ben Casteel: Telling a Story for All to Watch and Hear

He knows what contentment feels like, and that's why he knows he wants to feel it far more often. And Ben Casteel knows exactly what he would love to do – for a job, that is – if he can ever get such a gig. The job – his idea of THE perfect employment, anyway - exists, too, because entrepreneurs figured it out far before Bill Gates and Elon Musk ever did. For Ben, though, it would never be about getting rich unless – hell yeah! – getting rich came with creating his work. His words. His music. And he holds an advantage, too, because Ben knows no barriers and he’s not afraid when challenged. That’s why Mr. Casteel is a resident of downtown Wheeling. He’s within walking distance of a pretty cool entertainment scene that’s been wrongly overshadowed by orange barrels and false narratives. Despite the bad rap and depending on the evening, though there are as many as seven restaurants serving dinner, and live music is offered often at three venues, two theatres, and, at times, inside an arena.   And Ben takes full advantage of it … like it’s his job. Several downtown areas are now impacted by the $32 million streetscape prjoect that will not be complete until the middle of 2025. What is your favorite hobby? Why is it your favorite? My favorite hobby is and has always been writing. Whether it be poetry or essays. It’s my favorite simply because I enjoy it and I enjoy sharing it with others. It’s my window reflected outwardly to the world. A person that is a writer is the most difficult and the easiest to understand if you ask me. What is the best thing when you make people laugh with your comedy? Honestly, I just like making people laugh. That’s about the long and short of it really. I like making people laugh and making that connection. If people get joy out of something I said, then it’s all good. Ben had the chance in October to play harmonica with Brandon Santini. What is it that music offers you as a listener and fan? It’s hard to really separate the two to me. I’m a listener because I’m a fan! The listener is moved by the music to a certain degree, and the fan comes after. If something about the listening resonates with me on a personal or even musical level, that’s what grabs me first and foremost to make me fan from just being an objective listener first. It has to hit my heart. As a downtown Wheeling resident, what does the downtown need the most? That’s an easy one. Downtown just needs more small businesses and maybe another venue or two. There’s so much potential for there to be a few more shops, some places to play or create, and just more space to be used. There’s so many buildings downtown that could be used to benefit downtown Wheeling! The Mount Wood Overlook offers visitors like Casteel a magnificent view of the river valley. If you could create your own job, what would your job be? Well, If anything, I’d like to just be a writer and musician. I mean it’s that simple to me and something I’ve always been passionate about. If I could wake up tomorrow and someone were to hand me a contract for a book or to start songwriting as a profession, well, sign me up! Read the full article