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theostrophywife · 6 months

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le coup de foudre.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: my love mine all mine by mitski.

author's note: this was a result of me binging dune and call me by your name. whoever fancasted timothee chalamet as regulus deserves a forehead kith cause look at him. he's so boyfriend coded it makes me sick.

Regulus Black did not believe in love at first sight.

It was a foolish notion. One that contradicted his pragmatic beliefs. At his core, Regulus was a realist. In his world, love was not a luxury one could afford. Regulus was raised with the expectation to marry according to class, wealth, and most importantly, blood status. The noble and most ancient house of Black only took the purest of the pure.

After all, toujours pur, always pure, has been his family’s motto for centuries. There has never been any doubt in his mind that he’d marry another member of the sacred twenty eight. It wasn’t a matter of if, only a question of when.

During his sixth year, his mother made her intentions very clear. Walburga Black was adamant that he begin his search for a suitable bride. Leave it to his mother to compose a list of ladies she deemed suitable to become the future Mrs. Black. Regulus was to adhere to the carefully curated roster. They were names that he’d seen a million times before. Greengrass, Prewett, Rosier. Girls he’d grown up with and inadvertently had absolutely no interest in.

Still, his mother was insistent so Regulus complied. He took the girls out on dates. The formula was rather simple: dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town followed by a walk around the city square in which he offered to buy his date a dessert like the proper gentleman his mother raised him to be. Despite the fact that Regulus had the entire process down to a science, the dates were always unsatisfactory.

He was polite, of course. Opened the door, pulled out their chair, asked the appropriate level of questions to get to know his counterpart, but by the time the appetizers arrived, Regulus was on the verge of stabbing himself with the butter knife just to rouse himself from boredom.

Regulus placed no blame on the girls. They were only doing what their families had raised them to do. Sit pretty, chew gracefully, agree with his opinions. All while wearing breakneck heels and a smile to boot. It was all terribly fucked up, but this was the world they lived in.

The more he went on these dates, the more he realized that he didn’t want some pretty, docile wife. What he truly needed was someone who was willing to challenge him, to call him out on his bullshit, to argue with him when his own stubbornness prevented him from seeing reason. Regulus came to the horrible, earth-shattering realization that he probably wouldn’t find a woman like that on his mother’s list.

As he walked back from another mind numbing date, Regulus grappled with this newfound dilemma. He didn’t want to endure another one of these disastrous dates. He didn’t want to sit through an entire meal making small talk. He definitely didn’t want to disappoint another girl by not kissing them at the end of the night.

It wasn’t like any of them liked him anyways. Though they loved the idea of Regulus Black, he was quite certain that they wouldn’t afford the same affections to Reggie—the real and true version of himself. The one that Sirius often said Regulus kept in a neatly locked cage.

He wished he could be more like his brother. Sirius had always been the brave one. It was that infamous Gryffindor boldness that prompted his older brother to rebel against his family’s expectations. Instead of heeding to their mother’s ridiculous list, Sirius chose to date Remus in open defiance to Walburga’s orders. It resulted in him getting kicked out of 12 Grimmauld Place and burned off the family portrait, but Sirius didn’t seem to mind one bit.

In a lot of ways, Regulus envied his brother. Sirius had the guts to stand up for himself. He wasn’t burdened by the crippling pressure of pleasing their mother. In all honesty, Reggie wondered if such a thing was even achievable. As he brooded, Regulus found himself on the shores of the Black Lake. His body had taken him here on autopilot. It was his only place of refuge in the castle.

Regulus paced the rickety wooden dock. His mind was working so fast, so many thoughts spinning in his head, that it felt like he might work himself up to a fit. This has always been his problem. Sirius often said that he lived in his head too much. He frowned, trying and failing to get ahold of himself. For once, he wished he could just shut his brain off entirely.

Just then, Regulus felt a drop of water hit his head. He looked up and found dark, gray clouds hovering over the horizon. The stormcloud broke open and unleashed torrential rain all around him. Fucking fantastic. The world truly couldn’t give him a bloody break, could it?

With a sigh, Regulus began making his way back. The ground was sodden underneath his feet, his boots sinking into the sand and dragging behind his black coat. The waves lapped violently across the shore as the wind lashed against the murky waters. Regulus was almost at the edge of the beach when he spotted you.

A flash of movement from the corner of his eye. Regulus stopped dead in his tracks. There, at the mouth of the Black Lake, in the middle of the pouring rain, stood a girl with the most breathtaking smile he had ever seen.

Regulus was fairly certain that you had History of Magic together. He sat behind you in class, passed by you in the halls, even reached for the same book in the forbidden section of the library once, but Reggie had never once seen that smile. The gravity of it threatened to knock the very breath from his lungs.

There was something carefree about you. The way you spread your arms, tilted your head back, and laughed in the midst of the rain and thunder. Almost like you were welcoming the storm.

It was only when your eyes locked that Regulus realized he was staring. You cocked your head at him, trailing your gaze from the curls plastered against his cheek to the nice button down and freshly pressed trousers that were now soaked from the rain, down to the shiny leather boots that were now digging into the sand. You seemed amused at the sight of him.

Ever the perfect gentleman, Regulus snapped out of his daze and jogged over to you. Without hesitation, he raised his coat over your head to shield you from the rain even though you were already both drenched.

“What are you doing out in the rain?” Regulus asked, his voice full of genuine concern. “You’ll catch a cold.”

You stepped out of the refuge of his expensive looking coat and held your hand out, catching droplets in your palm. “I don’t mind. I just…I just needed to feel the rain on my skin, that’s all.”

You supposed it must’ve seemed strange to him, but the rain always made you feel better. Lately, life had been just a little too overwhelming. There was so much pressure to do well in classes, to hang out with friends while balancing your clubs and sports, as well as making time to write back to your parents. When it all became a bit too much, you tended to come to the Black Lake for some sort of refuge. The rain was just an added bonus.

If Regulus found your behavior bizarre, he didn’t say. Instead, he just smiled softly. “Well, you got your wish. It’s soaked out here.”

“I know,” you responded with an enthusiastic nod. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Standing out in the pouring rain? On a beach where lightning can strike me down at any second? Yes, it’s absolutely splendid.”

Your mouth quirked in amusement. “No one’s telling you to stay out here.” You nodded towards the castle. “You’re more than welcome to take your brooding inside where it’s warm and dry. Not to mention, free of the dangers of lightning strikes, which are extremely rare by the way.”

“With my luck, I might be the poor one in a million git who gets torched while getting insulted by a pretty girl.”

“Did I insult you?’ you quipped back. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“You accused me of brooding.”

“I didn’t accuse, I stated. Even the Wizengamot would have to rule that you were, in fact, brooding.”

Regulus raised a brow. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?”

“Unfortunately, the evidence is overwhelming and the verdict is set. You, Regulus Black, have been sentenced for glaring at the Black Lake so menacingly that even the giant squid refuses to come to shore. Off to Azkaban you go.”

“Do you promise to write me letters? Update me of how the world’s progressed without my dazzling presence?”

“It would be my genuine pleasure.”

Regulus chuckled at your dry humor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d bantered like this with anyone, much less with a strange not-so-stranger. You sat down on the wet sand and patted the spot beside you with a grin.

“Why don’t you take a seat and tell me all about your troubles.”

Beyond the bleak horizon, the spires of the castle peeked through the gray clouds. Regulus thought of the common room where his housemates would no doubt be gathered around the ornate fireplace for warmth. Knowing his friends, they’d probably be indulging in spiked hot chocolate and playing some childish drinking game. A few minutes ago, nothing appealed to him more, but now Regulus found himself choosing the violent rain and soggy sand. All because of you, his mystery girl.

You leaned back on your elbows and cocked your head at him. “What ails you, Mr. Black?”

“That depends. How much do you bill per hour?”

“Fortunately for you, I’m in a generous mood so I’ll throw in a free session. Consider it my pro-bono work.”

“How kind of you,” Regulus said with a serious expression. “My brother’s been nagging me to see a mind healer for years. All that childhood trauma, you know.”

A small smile tugged at your lips, revealing a set of dimples that he found rather charming. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.”

“My brother is Sirius. I’m Regulus, remember?”

You snorted in a very unladylike manner, which only made Regulus grin. There was something so unapologetically you in your laugh that was absolutely endearing to him. Regulus smiled and knocked his shoulder against yours.

You mimicked the action and smiled back at him. “All sarcasm aside, I was being genuine. If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”

"Do you often offer therapy sessions to complete strangers?"

"Only to surly Slytherins with sad eyes and pretty curls," you quipped back. "And we're not strangers. I sit behind you in potions. We're practically best mates."

"You think my curls are pretty?"

"Like a little cherub's. Are you quite sure you haven't escaped from the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel? You look like one of Michelangelo's angels. Except with way more scowling." Regulus grinned. He got the feeling that you always said whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was refreshing. "There's a smile. See? Our session is already progressing."

"I think you might get more than you bargained for with me, I'm afraid."

You met the challenge in his words head on. "Try me."

“You were right. I’m definitely guilty of brooding.”

“What happened?”

Regulus hesitated for a moment. He had never been the type of person to be candid with his feelings, especially not with someone he barely knew. Usually, he just kept his thoughts to himself and ruminated on them in the privacy of his dorm until he drove himself mad by overthinking, but your presence brought him an unexplainable ease. For once in his life, Regulus chose not to question it.

“I’ve had a long night,” he said, tucking his knees up to his chest. “I just got back from a date.”

“It didn’t go well?”

“It was…fine. It’s always fine. But it’s the same thing over and over again, just with a different girl.”

“I wouldn’t have taken you for a playboy, Regulus Black.”

Regulus chuckled. “I’m not some unscrupulous rake, I assure you.”

“Yes, that much is obvious from your use of the word unscrupulous.” You tucked your legs underneath you. “So why go on all of these dates if you find them so tedious?”

“It’s my mother,” Regulus explained. “She has this list.”

“A list?”

“Yes, a list of girls that I’m to court. Noble, pureblooded, proper ladies of society that my mother has deemed worthy of marriage.”

“You’re seventeen years old. Shouldn’t you be worrying about quidditch games and potions exams?”

Regulus nodded. “Yes, one would think. But my family has always been different. Since my brother left, my parents have been obsessed with grooming me into becoming the perfect heir.”

“How do you feel about that?”

He sighed. “Stifled. Exhausted. Smothered. I can feel the weight of their expectations weighing me down every second of every day.”

“I’m sorry, Regulus. That’s a terrible burden to carry.”

Regulus shrugged. “Others have it worse.”

“It doesn’t mean that your problem is any less heavy.”

To Regulus, the acknowledgement felt oddly validating. Even though you knew nothing of his circumstance, there was wisdom in your words and you delivered it delicately, like you actually cared to hear his troubles. You were devoid of the judgment he'd grown accustomed to and he found that rather freeing.

“It’s just…sometimes I think that I’ll never be the perfect son. My brother, he’s always been the brave one. Classic Gryffindor,” he said with an eye roll. You chuckled, but stayed silent. It was obvious that Regulus had a myriad of thoughts to unpack tonight and you were more than happy to just listen. “Sirius has never cared what anyone thought about him, least of all our parents. I admire that about him, but I just don’t think I’m wired that way. I care too much.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” you said softly. “Apathy is so common nowadays, finding someone who can admit that they care is refreshing. Though, I think it’s not without limits. You can’t please everyone. No matter what you do, someone is going to have something to complain about. You might as well be yourself.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Regulus pondered. “All of these girls on my mother's list, I think they like the idea of Regulus Black, but he’s an illusion. It isn’t the real me.”

“Then who is the real you?”

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I’m just Reggie. I like playing quidditch and reading depressing literature and memorizing obscure history facts. I hate messy rooms and orange juice and anything that crawls.”

You smiled. “And what kind of girl does Reggie like?”

“Someone witty. Someone funny. Someone who’ll argue with me. Someone who doesn’t just nod and agree with everything I say."

"So what you're saying is that you don't want a nice girl?"

Regulus shook his head. "No, I think I need someone who challenges me. Who sees me for who I am rather than what I represent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure the girls on my mother’s list are lovely, but I don’t think they’d actually like me if they knew who I really am.”

“I don’t know, Reggie seems like a great guy. That Regulus bloke, on the other hand…” you scrunched your nose in disapproval.

“Hey!” Regulus chided, “I’m pouring my heart out to you. That took a lot of courage, you know.”

“You’re very brave, Reggie,” you said with a grin. “But you know what would be even braver?”

Regulus squinted in the rain as you stood to your feet. Lightning crackled over the horizon, illuminating you with an ethereal silver glow. You held out your hand to him. “Come dance with me.”

“Deathly afraid of being struck by lightning, remember?”

“Sorry, what?” You asked as you shimmied around him. It wasn’t graceful by any means. It was the goofiest thing he’d ever seen and yet he’d never been so enthralled. You danced without a care in the world and it made him genuinely laugh. “I can’t hear you over all the fun I’m having.”

"This is ridiculous," he said over the roaring thunder.

You shrugged. "Perhaps. But everyone's allowed to be a little ridiculous sometimes. Besides, I was asking Reggie not Regulus."

“Are you really trying to peer pressure me into dancing with you?”

“That depends,” you replied with a cheeky smile. “Is it working?”

Regulus conceded with a sigh and leapt to his feet. The youngest Black brother bowed like a proper gentleman. “May I have this dance, my lady?"

“You may, good sir.”

You grinned up at him as he took you by the waist and waltzed with you across the sand. Surprisingly, Regulus let you take the lead. He chuckled when you stepped on his toes and laughed even harder when you tried to twirl him. Towering a good foot over you, Regulus had to fully crouch for the maneuver to work.

Finally, you gave up the formality and just spun around in dizzying circles. There was absolutely no rhyme or rhythm to it. Just two idiots dancing in the rain with the biggest smiles on their faces.

Your coordination, or lack thereof, caused you to almost faceplant into the sand. Regulus yelped as you took him down with you. By the time you recovered from the laughing fit, the two of you were red-faced, out of breath, and laying side by side along the shore. He turned over to you and brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in years.”

“See? There’s more to life than just being moody and melancholic.”

“So this mystery girl of mine keeps reminding me,” Regulus said with a smile. “You never told me your name, by the way.”

“Wow, you don’t even know my name? I’m offended, Reggie. We’ve only been in classes together since fifth year.”

“I—we’ve never been introduced—”

You broke out into a smile and giggled. You thought it was cute that Reggie was so easily flustered. “I’m just kidding, Reggie.”

He sighed in relief as you stuck out your hand. “Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

Regulus slipped his hand into yours. He cocked his head, studying your eyes and your smile and those cute little dimples.

Y/N. The last name on his mother’s list. The one he saved for last because he didn’t know who she was.

The French had a saying—le coup de foudre. The infamous phrase translated to a bolt of lightning or love at first sight. Regulus had long dismissed it as flowery prose, but thanks to his mystery girl, he started to think that maybe the Parisians were onto something because meeting you tonight felt preordained. A date with fate. Like a bolt of lightning streaking through his dark, endless skies.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You grinned. “It’s nice to meet you, Reggie.”

Regulus smiled and laced your fingers together. He was frozen, it was raining, and he was fairly certain that you were both probably going to catch a cold, but he didn’t care. In that moment, as he stared up at the sky, blinking back the rain, and intertwining his fingers with yours, Regulus had never felt more content.

So no, Regulus did not believe in love at first sight, but love at second, third, and even fourth glance? He smiled a little as he gazed back at you, letting his gaze linger as he drank in that infectious laugh and sunny grin.

You made him think that maybe, just maybe, a girl like you could convert a skeptic like him into a devout believer.

#ok but when can i run my fingers through reggie's curls hm? when is it my turn to be happy?#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black fic #the marauders #the marauders era

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forbidden-sunlight · 4 months

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yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part one]

Warnings: obsessive behavior, religious themes, implied manipulation, brief mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own

Internet consumption!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Hey guys, before we get started, I’d like to address a couple of things.

First, the content here is a bit darker than my previous works, as stated in the warnings above. If you or someone you know is struggling, you aren’t alone. There are many support services that are here to help. I will leave a link to some of these sources in this link here. Tumblr also has their messaging system, Kokobot. I want you guys, my audience to feel safe when reading my stories. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, that’s okay. Please prioritize your physical and mental health, above all else.

Second, bullying is not tolerated. If I see any sign of it on here, I will have no choice but to take this story down. Finally, there will be some references in here from The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir, such as Harrowhark and Palamedes. I claim no ownership over this magnificent series as it belongs to the rightful creator.

With that being said guys, sit back, relax....and perhaps begin to pray for salvation. Because this is past the point of no return :)

Part Two

Part Three

Yandere!Holy Knight had always believed he was meant to serve a greater purpose. Not to accumulate wealth and power like his older brother, only to abuse his authority and hurt people who did not deserve a whipping for a cup of tea that was two degrees too cold to his liking. No. He wanted to help others in his own way, without expecting anything in return. Perhaps…that was why it had been so easy to leave his family and find his place here in the Holy Temple of Aesir. Or it was because he is the second son, the spare heir to the Emery viscounty, that his parents allowed him to leave without so much as a second thought.

He had given up his name when he was baptized by the high priest, and was reborn as Sir Palamedes. Five years have passed, and he has ascended to becoming the vice commander of the Holy Temple’s paladins.He must protect the Holy Temple, its clergy, and the people of the Helux Empire. This is the oath he took, and is proud to uphold. Yandere!Holy Knight, however, wished the Reverend Sister would take better care of herself.

The Reverend Sister is a title given to the child chosen by Aesir to deliver His message and protect His children from the wicked monsters who come forth from the swirling, black puddles of miasma. Only the Reverend Sister’s magic can purify the darkness of such an ancient evil. In his mind, there is no one more fitting to being the Reverend Sister than you. Harrowhark.

God’s Beloved.

The Possessor of Aesir’ All Seeing Eyes.

The Holiest Woman in the World.

There are many monikers tied to you. All of them are true, and all of the rumors couldn’t be further from the truth when the bards sang songs of your innocence, your enchanting beauty and ‘swan like neck’. If you had ever heard these lyrics, you would promptly take off your shoe and throw it at them with a low, irritated hiss before stomping away in a huff.

Yandere!Holy Knight would probably try very hard to not laugh at seeing, or at least imagining, your annoyance.

Yes, you were the Reverend Sister but you were not a naive beauty as everyone believed you to be. You were grumpy, diligent, kind-hearted, and knew the world can be a dark, cruel place.

The Holy Temple of Aesir had saved you in your darkest hour; instead of throwing yourself into the cold, murky river as a means to escape from the wretched place you had come from, a low-ranking priest had found you. He took you in, taught you everything there is to know about prayer, penitence, and how to embrace the worst part of yourself even when you wanted to so badly rip it out because it is still part of you. What you had experienced, the hardships, the sorrows…that is life. And to understand that no mortal is perfect, to accept it and use the gifts Aesir had bestowed upon you to help others…that is when you will truly see how beautiful the world is through His Eyes.

His Eyes that you now possessed.

No one had dared to look upon them in fear of incurring Aesir’s wrath…yet Yandere!Holy Knight did when he was in the Holy Temple’s care for a year before you arrived, a young man at the age of fifteen. He saw them and thought they looked like a pair of jewels. Sapphires that glowed brightly under the sunlight, and could see everything. Past, present, and future for a brief time. Due to the physical and mental strain that these Eyes have placed on your body even when it was to create illusions or obscure the sight of magical beasts, you weren’t allowed to overuse them. That was why the High Priest insisted that you wore a veil over your face.

You opted to have the seamstress to make adjustments to your mother-of-pearl robes and add a hood to hide yourself from the world. You might have also bribed her to create a matching cloth to wear over your eyes, enchanted so that you could see through it without putting further strain on your vision.

Rebellious. But you were perfect in Yandere!Holy Knight’s eyes. A Reverend Sister who cared for the congregation, the people, and his men far more than she lets others believe.

He thought this peaceful life would continue as it had for the last ten years. To watch you from afar and know that you were safe so long as he still held a sword in his hands. But nothing lasts forever.

One day, the High Priest had cloistered the clergy in the temple’s pews and announced that Aesir had shown him in a vision that the Reverend Sister who had been with them for these past ten years was not the true child of the Creator. It is in fact the young lady standing at his side. A dainty, beautiful lady with pale blue hair that fell past her back, gentle robin’s egg eyes darting from the carpeted floor to the clergy and then to the High Priest. She wore a strapless white dress with matching gloves that stretched all the way to her elbows. Pear-shaped dangled from her ears, and black lace with a single blue rose attached to the side coiled around her swanlike throat.This stranger, this…noblewoman, is all but ready to accept her duties. From this moment forward, she would be known as Esther.

“Let it be known, Brothers and Sisters, that the one known as Harrowhark shall be sent into exile for her sins against Aesir. That is the will of the Creator, so let it be so.”

Yandere!Holy Knight’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach at the High Priest’s words. What? He thought. This cannot be true! You are the Reverend Sister, you are God’s Beloved! Why would this man (this fool a nasty voice in the back of his mind growled) deny it now? Ten years. For ten long years, you have been a faithful bride of the Holy Temple. Now, after everything you have down, the recklessness in trying to sacrifice your life for his men on missions, reaching out to the people and listening to them confess their sins in the prayer box because you did not wish to see them suffer and try to offer guidance without overstepping your boundaries….you would just be cast aside as if you were nothing to them? To the Holy Temple, to him?

No. Yandere!Holy Knight cannot and will not accept it. He knows the High Priest. He knows this man would never dare to do something so stupid lest he will incite the anger of the clergy, the people, and the Emperor himself, who is a religious man and knows the Reverend Sister.

Something is not right.

He was not the only one who believed it. You did too. You had told him as much later that night, when you found him at the training grounds, trying to relieve his anger by practicing his swings with his two-handed longsword. You were still here. You hadn’t left like the High Priest had ordered you to do so. Thank Aesir.

If he were a lesser man, he would have scooped you up in his arms and laughed joyously, waking up everyone else in the barracks and gotten smacked across the face for pushing past your five-foot rule. But he didn’t.

You had not been blessed with His Eyes just to pretend that you will unconditionally obey the High Priest’s request to leave and be branded a heretic, a false Reverend Sister, for the rest of your life. No. The woman who will be baptized as Reverend Sister Esther and become God’s Beloved is not who the High Priest believes she is, regardless that this chain of events are happening because of a vision.

All the sacred texts in the library, all the prayers you have had to learn by heart, not a single one of them contained the words Affection Level. It did not explain why those floated over this stranger’s head, why its dark-pink smoke was encircling the High Priest, a man who possessed just as much holy magic as you did, if not more due to age and experience. You had strained your sight, vision becoming blurry just to see what was the thing under Affection Level. It was…a bar with lines? Measured in tenth percentiles, from ten to one hundred? What is this sorcery? It isn’t anything you have ever seen before, not even when you have visited monasteries across the Empire for yearly sabbaticals. How did this woman attain it?

This magic did not possess the gentle warmth of Aesir’s touch, his love towards all creation without expecting anything in return.

Take. Take. Take. Conquer. Move on. Take.

That was what you could feel, and you had no doubt in your mind at that very moment, the High Priest’s words going from one ear and out the other. There is an evil presence in the Holy Temple of Aesir. This woman, Esther, is a harbinger. An anchor. She was tied to this evil and she was reveling in it as if she had finally, finally gotten what she desired without lifting a finger. And that terrified you more than anything, the possibility that this sorcery can brainwash the entire congregation and no one would be the wiser.

Shit. What the fuck is going on? Forgive me, Aesir, for saying such vulgar words in your sacred House, but what the ever-living fuck is going on?

If the sight of seeing this Affection Level and its abilities did not rattle your bones, it was seeing two tiny names hidden right under the meter. The High Priest…and Sir Palamedes. And inside tiny square boxes right, no, on the left side of their names were the words capture target.

Yandere!Holy Knight stared at you in disbelief, your confession of what you had seen earlier this afternoon ringing in his ears. “You believe that this woman will bring harm to the Holy Temple, Sister Harrowhark?” He said. “If that is true, then why would the High Priest risk the safety of the congregation? Is it because of the influence of this…Affection Level? And why is my name there?” He was aghast. “How could anyone think of conquering someone if they do not consent to it or do not desire such a thing?”

Like the Brothers and Sisters of the Holy Temple, he had taken a vow of chastity alongside the oaths to protect them and the countrymen. Only clergymen or paladins who were high-ranking would be allowed to marry so long as the union was approved by both the High Priest and the Emperor.

You blinked at him, jeweled eyes glowing in sympathy as you slowly shook your head. “I do not know, truly. But if Reverend Sister Esther is coming after you, then you must put your safety and well-being above all else. Even my own.” You put your gloved hands in your mother-of-pearls robes, digging around in the pockets before you pulled out a drop-shaped peridot on a silver chain. You placed it in his open palm, and pushed his fingers forward to clench the hand into a loose fist.

Murky, violet orbs looked at you in confusion, astonishment, and fear. “Lady Harrowhark?” He whispered.

“Keep this on you, Sir Palamedes. The holy magic stored in here should be able to protect you from whatever this evil is, or at least I hope so. I was able to persuade the High Priest to postpone the announcement of Reverend Sister Esther’s baptism and my exile until after the Festival of the Stars. That will give us one week, while the others are celebrating Aesir’s creation of the world, to find everything we need to know about the Affection Level and how to remove it from Sister Esther before it can corrupt anyone else in the congregation.” You then stepped away from him, turning your back towards Yandere!Holy Knight and throwing the hood of your robe over your head.

“Recite your prayers, steady your hand, and for Aesir’s sake keep your distance from that woman.”

Then you left the training grounds, disappearing into the night and back towards the Sisters’ sleeping quarters, leaving Yandere! Holy Knight alone in his troubled thoughts. He knelt at his bedside that night, clutching the talisman you had given in his clasped hands as he dutifully murmured the prayers of Fidelity, Honor, and Strength. To protect him from evil’s temptation.

May Aesir grant him the strength to remain pure of heart and mind before he succumbs to his unholy feelings towards the Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved and the woman he should not have fallen in love with.

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©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere #ns.fw #yandere oc #yandere!holy knight #tw obsession #tw sui ideation #tw sui attempt #fem!reader #tw manipulation #cw manipulation #cw sui ideation #cw sui attempt #minors do not interact #mdni

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thebibliosphere · 2 months

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A Library with a deadly enchantment. A fae lord who wants in. A human woman willing to risk it all for a taste of power. In a land ruled by ruthless Fae, twenty-one-year-old Lore Alemeyu's village is trapped in a forested prison. Lore knows that any escape attempt is futile–her scars are a testament to her past failures. But when her village is threatened, Lore makes a desperate deal with a fae lord. She convinces him that she will risk her life for wealth, but really she’s after the one thing the Fae covet above all: magic of her own. As Lore navigates the hostile world outside, she’s forced to rely on two fae males to survive. When undeniable chemistry ignites, she’s not just in danger of losing her life, but her heart to the very creatures she can never trust.

Happy book birthday to Lore of the Wilds by Analeigh Sbrana!

Ana's not on Tumblr, so I'm doing the celebration for her 💖🥳

If you like:

-🍄 cottage core -✨ fairy core -📚 light/dark academia vibes -🌈 a diverse cast of all Black LGBTQIA+ characters -💘 romance -🧝🏾‍♀️ the idea of being kidnapped by a fairy prince to tidy up his cursed/enchanted library and coming into your own magical powers as a result, then Lore of the Wilds might just be for you!

Full disclosure: I worked on this book as a proofreader before it got picked up by Harper Collins, and I loved every minute of it. I kept forgetting I was supposed to be working and reading ahead. I scheduled a week to finish reading it and did it in 3 days, and the only reason it took so long was that I had to actually pause and work on it 😅

Lore of the Wilds is available now in ebook, audio, paperback, and hardback from most book retailers. Check out the Harper Collins links to find a retailer close to you!

Please consider checking out Lore. It's a stunning world with an amazing cast, and Ana deserves every bit of success after she fought so hard to get her all Black fairytale past the hurdles of mainstream publishing.

#booklr #writerblr #book launch #lore of the wilds #analeigh sbrana #black fairy fantasy #romantasy #adventure fantasy romance #dark academia #cottage core #fairy core #signal boost

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berryhobii · 3 months

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HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH! 🖤🖤🖤In honor of this wonderful month and the history of our people, I want to provide information on pieces of black history that is often overlooked due to the whitewashing of education.

First up, the race riots and black massacres that occurred. Many people do not know but before, during, and after segregation and Jim Crow laws, black people had built wealthy black communities and were striving despite racial discrimination.

A black community in Tulsa, Oklahoma was known as Black Wall Street. Black owned businesses thrived and we were reaching the same levels as our white counterparts. The masacre started on Memorial Day weekend when a young black man by the name of Dick Rowland was accused of assaulting a young white woman. After this hearsay reached the white community, they gathered their arms, Rowland was arrested and set to be lynched with no trial. Due to a white man being lynched the year before, white people took this as an opportunity to get revenge. After a report that hundreds of white men had gathered to hurt Rowland in prison, a group of 75 black men also gathered to protect him. However, a white officer convinced them to leave. It was later found that Rowland was beaten by this officer already but didn’t want anyone else to find out.

Referring to as a “rolling gunfight”, more instances of white people provoking black people led to a shootout between both communities. When outnumbered, the black people were forced to retreat.

As news of his gun violence spread, mob violence reached its peak. For an entire day and night, white rioters looted stores, burned down buildings, destroyed homes, and unalived many black people. It’s also believed that white rioters started this massacre as a way to knock black wealth down out of jealousy and white supremacy.

A little over 10,000 black people were left homeless and the property damage to the community was set close to $1.5Million and personal property at $750,000(equal to about $36.92 Million today). Due to racial discrimination and redlining, the city and banks refused to compensate black people while simultaneously handing out loans to white businesses that were not affected during the riots. This caused many black families to leave Tulsa in search of a new place to settle. Due to white people’s power over media, the Tulsa Riots remained omitted from national histories. It didn’t even get published into history books until the 1960s.

While Tulsa is the most common masacre we hear about, it’s not the only one. The destruction of black communities have led to the property value in those areas steadily decreasing. Redlining made it so that black people could not rebuild and the majority of money was funneled into white communities. Today, it’s why POC communities are more likely to be dilapidated and poverty stricken while white communities are maintained and clean.

I will provide a list of other race riots and black massacres here.

Educate yourself. Teach the children. Don’t let them gaslight you. Our history is long and harsh and it deserves to be spoken about.

#black history #black history month #black lives matter #history #black people

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loveisanimaginarydagger3000 · 7 months

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Enemies With Benefits (3)

Wanda Maximoff X Reader 18+

Summary: Enemies. That was what you were. She was an Avenger, you were a criminal. You should hate her, she should hate you. So why do you love the feeling of her skin pressed against yours? Moans spilling from her lips? The taste of her on your tongue?

Casual, rough sex. That was all it was supposed to be but soon feelings start to get involved. Would something so scandalous be able to last?

Warnings/Tags: Angst, Sexual Tension, Flirting, Hydra, Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture

General Masterlist | Enemies with Benefits Masterlist

Chapter 3- Surprise

As soon as you entered the grand hall, your eyes scanned around the room to search for your target. On the USB there was a file regarding an ex hydra scientist who not only performed on innocent people, which resulted in them dying, but he also abused many of his subjects, especially the young girls he managed to get a hold of.

Men and women in elegant outfits, showing off their wealth littered the room yet you paid no notice to the few looks sent your way from them, the lust in some of their eyes as you walked past in your suit. All black was always the way to go, it was the best colour to hide the blood stains after you had your way with a target.

You made your way to the bar, ordering yourself a drink before a woman sat next to you, her body closer than necessary to grab your attention.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Romanoff?” you say, not turning away from your drink as the redhead receives her own drink and takes a small sip.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pin you to this table and handcuff you?” she says with a little bite in her words.

“Hmm let me think,” you murmur, pretending to be deep in thought for a moment earning a glare from your side. You roll your eyes at her serious state and mumble how boring she is before answering, “Because I’m your favourite bad guy? Oh wait no, because you’d know I’d enjoy it too much,” you turn to her with a wink, her palm colliding with your cheek making a few people look over before losing interest. You rub the spot she just slapped, her expression stoic as you stare at her in disbelief, “You’re not one of my favourite Avengers anymore, that was just rude.”

“Cut the bullshit,” her tone dangerous, “This isn't a game Y/n. Why are you here?”

“The same reason you are,” you turn back to your drink, your eyes looking around the room as you take a small sip.

“And that is?” You let out a sigh at her words, annoyed you now have to deal with the Avengers meddling in your plans.

“Look, let’s ‘cut the bullshit’, we both want the Hydra prick, so why don’t we just make this easier for everyone?” she raises her eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue, “Let me take care of him and you can all have tonight off, maybe you could go and learn to have fun somewhere.” She shakes her head at you, a breathless laugh escaping her.

“I don't think that’s going to happen,” you turn to her as she speaks, looking behind her to see if the man has entered yet.

“Why not? Is it because you don’t want to be a fun person?” She can see your smirk as you raise the glass to your mouth and holds back from slapping the smug and annoying look on your face.

“Because your methods of ‘taking care of them’ are inappropriate and illegal,” she’s read all the files on you and even seen you in the flesh as you punish whatever guilty soul you could catch.

“It’s not inappropriate, it’s what they deserve,” your voice loses the teasing tone, becoming more cold and angered. “Do you really think I’m just going to let you take them, stick them in a cell for the rest of their lives that protects them from the people that want them dead? I thought you were smarter than this Romanoff.” She sighs at you, but you're too focussed on seeing the man walk in, a smile plastered on his face as he greets the surrounding people. “Lovely speaking to you Miss Romanoff but I must say goodbye now,” you say with a sarcastic tone, your hand grabbing hers and raising it to your mouth to place a kiss on, her pulling away her hand at the dramatic gesture.

“If you carry on like this, you’ll end up in one of those cells,” she warns but you're already gliding through crowds of people to find the scientist.

“Fancy seeing you here,” a familiar voice calls out, her arm interlocking with yours, holding you back.

“Not now my little witch,” you say, keeping your voice calm as you stare ahead, the man talking to a woman and standing a little too close to her and, judging by the expression on her face, it wasn’t welcomed, “I have to work.”

“All work and no play?” she echoes your words from a few nights ago, her hand cupping your jaw and making you look at her.

“Yes, I’m a very busy woman at the moment so, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.” You slip out of her grasp but she moves forwards and pulls you back, your anger rising now as you can’t let another one get a life of safety in an Avenger’s cell.

“I can’t let you do that,” she says, an indecipherable emotion in her voice. “Come on, let’s have some fun,” she purrs in an attempt to distract you. Your attention from the man falters for a split second, moving to gaze at her lips for a brief moment before returning to where the man was. You swear under your breath at the fact he’s gone, along with the woman, and turn back to the witch.

“This will be your only warning,” your voice low as you whisper at the shell of her ear, “ Stay out of my way.”

“Or what?” she challenges you, a low chuckle immediately leaving you.

“You should have kept your mouth shut,” you mutter, “Enjoy the surprise I will send you later.” With that said, you pull away harshly and leave to find the man, pushing a person into Wanda who then spills her drink on her dress, the other woman starting a scene with the witch making it impossible for her to follow you.

***

Wanda’s leg bounces as the other Avengers bicker between themselves, arguing about how they failed to bring in the scientist as well as how they lost them to you. Her fingers twirled the rings on her fingers, her thoughts out of control while the rest continued to speak. Her entire body froze when her phone vibrated in her pocket, a video and text being sent to her phone.

Unknown: I hope you enjoy your surprise :) See you soon my little witch Press play to watch video

Swiftly, she leaves the room, no one noticing her absence as they were too focussed on the argument, and heads towards hers room. Her fingers shakily pressed the play button, the phone taking a moment to load the video up.

“Hello my little witch” your voice can be heard over the groans of pain in the background. “I promised you a surprise, I hope you enjoy it,” the camera moves as you walk across the room, supposedly in an abandoned building. Soon, the man from earlier appears on screen, blood dripping down the side of his face, his white shirt unbuttoned showing the deep slashes across his chest. His head sluggishly raised to meet the camera, tears streaming down his face while a cloth was tied around his mouth to muffle the noises that left him. “Oh come on, smile for the camera,” you taunt the man, clearly unable to do so with the gag.

“Help,” the man screams behind the gag, but you only laugh in response.

“Stop with the pathetic pleads,” you groan in annoyance, moving closer to him. The bruising on his face is clearer on the phone as you move till the camera is practically in his face. “Now let’s say goodbye to witchy.” He glares at you but you're too busy trying to hold the camera still, not letting it shake with your laughter.

“Fuck you,” he manages out quite clear and you just tsk at him.

“Sorry for my rude guest,” the camera moves till it’s on your face, his blood staining your neck and collar bones. “Goodbye my little witch,” you say, a charming smile on your face as the video ends.

As soon as the video ends, she’s leaving the room, heading for the exit of the compound to find you. It doesn’t take long for her to reach your apartment, her fist pounding on the door. When you don’t answer, she tries the handle to find the door unlocked. She strides into your apartment, seeing your jacket laid across a chair along with your shoes near the door that shows you’re here.

“Y/N,” she grits out, walking through your apartment till she hears the water of the shower running. She wastes no time in heading towards the bathroom, her magic almost pulling the door off its hinges as it flies open. You turn around in the shower, smirking over your shoulder as you see her through the glass panel. The water around you is red, the dried blood on your body slowly washing off.

“It’s rude to walk in on people showering unless you plan on joining them,” you murmur, continuing your shower as if she wasn't there.

“Out. Now,” she seethes out, eyes glowing red while her fingers twitch with her magic.

“ Or what?” your sneer back, turning around in the shower, the blood now clean from your toned body.

“There is no fucking or what. Out.” Her voice sends a shiver down your spine and you turn off the water, stepping out of the shower and not bothering to wrap a towel around yourself as the water drips down your body.

“Why did you do it?” her voice wavers with anger and sadness, almost disappointment, as she looks at you. “We were going to put him in a cell to rot in for the rest of his life,” her finger jabs into your chest, pushing you back slightly before she uses her magic to wrap a towel around you so she can push you against the wall. A groan leaves your lip at the force of her shove, the wall colliding with your back painfully.

“I gave him what he deserved,” you grit out, “Do you even know what he did?”

“He still didn’t deserve to die,” she argues and you scoff at her. “He should have suffered in prison for years, not been killed.”

“You’re telling me that a man who used people, children however he wanted, didn’t deserve what I did to him.”

“You should have handled it differently,” she sighs out irritated, walking away from you and sitting on the edge of your bed. You pull on a robe and follow after her, leaning against your drawers as she stares at you.

“I didn’t kill him,” you whisper after a few moments of silence, hope glinting in her eyes.

“Where is he-”

“That doesn’t mean he isn’t already dead,” your hands run through your hair before massaging your temples. Why were you telling her this? “I sent his location to a few people who wanted him dead, he was still alive when I left him.”

“Where?” you stare at the hopeful look in her eyes, noticing how much it contrasts from her lust-filled ones, how it’s somehow even more alluring. You give in, writing down the address which she quickly types into her phone, most likely in a message to a fellow Avenger as you move to change. “Thank you,” she whispers, making you turn around to look at her. You hate how it made you feel warm inside when she said those two little words and clenched your jaw in anger at yourself. What were you doing?

“Unless you want me to fuck you, get out,” your voice is emotionless while you move to grab the bottle of whiskey from one of the drawers.

“Y/n..” her face contorts to confusion at your sudden shift in mood, a frown now on her face.

“Yes or no?”

“Y/n-” she tries again but you cut her off, walking close till you're towering over her.

“It's a simple answer, if you say yes, I’ll pin you to that bed and have you screaming my name,” her breath hitches at your words, “if you say no, you can get out and go be the hero you so desperately want to be.”

Wanda’s entire body freezes at what you just said, a new wave of anger washing over her. She scoffs as she pushes you away, “At least I’m trying to be a hero unlike you.” You glare at her while the green in her eyes turn red again. “Y/n and her fucked up ways of trying to save the world,” she practically mocks before walking away. “Talk to me when you’ve learnt how to stop being a dick,” she shouts before the front door slams shut.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda fanfic #wanda x you #marvel fanfiction #eventual smut #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #the avengers #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #natahsa romanoff #natasha romanoff

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odinsblog · 1 month

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As Elon Musk whines about imaginary reverse discrimination against white men and “unqualified” women + non-white people being hired into jobs that they are neither deserving of nor qualified for (according to Apartheid Clyde, the privileged nepo baby born into wealth), please keep in mind that the pilot who landed Alaska Airline flight 1282 is a woman.

In a transcript of the conversation between the pilot — who so far remains anonymous — and the control tower, we get a glimpse into how she managed to rest cool, calm and very collected.

During the incident the cabin had become depressurized when a part of its structure blew out. As a result passengers’ phones were sucked out of the plane, and a teenager’s shirt was torn off his back.

While the passengers were left in a terrifying position, no doubt fearing the worst, the plane’s pilot kept things calm.

Grace under pressure

In the transcript published by IAM14 that you can listen to here, the pilot displays zero panic. In fact, she needed to be asked if she were declaring an emergency!

Here’s a snippet:

Air traffic controller: “1282 foreign approach. Good afternoon. You still have information zero?”

Alaska Airlines pilot: “Yeah, we do have information zero, we’d like to get lower, if possible.”

Air traffic controller: “Possibility 1282 descend and maintain 7,000.”

Air traffic controller: “Alaska 1282 did you declare an emergency or did you need to return to …”

Alaska Airlines pilot: “Yes, we are in an emergency, we are depressurized, we do need to return back to, we have 177 passengers. Fuel is 18-eight.”

When she states: “We’d like to get lower, if possible,” most people would have had a slightly different reaction. It would have been understandable to hear something along the lines of: “Help, we’re in big trouble!” (source)

And remember: there are also Black pilots who do the job every single day, not to mention the intersection of other marginalized groups who are also right there doing the damn thing.

#politics #elon musk #diversity equity and inclusion #apartheid clyde #dei #alaska airlines #alaska airlines 1282

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unabashednightmarepizza · 1 year

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𝐿𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑐𝑦

A/N: Hi, hello there! Here is me and my newest obsession! I hope you will like this story and keep waiting for new chapters to come! I couldn't stop myself from writing for Hogwarts Legacy so... Please enjoy!

Series Masterlist

“Oh, I didn't know we were expecting... guests?”

When a melodic and soft voice came behind them, Harry and pretty much everyone was only able to flinch at the sudden closeness and well, not expecting to see someone living in here. Even when Dumbledore told them that Harry's answers and also questions laid in here, none of them thought much about it. They thought they would be finding another object or some kind of relict...

Not an overly good-looking young woman.

“Uhm, hi... Do you live in here?”

“Well, I'm standing in the garden of the house don’t I?” Harry suddenly felt shy and blushed under the soft teasing of the woman, and she could only laugh gleefully as she looked at everyone briefly and frowned.

“All of you look so skinny... Come, I’ll prepare more food!” suddenly she was behind the group and an invisible force, alongside the strength of the woman, had pushed all of them inside the soft looking and warm, enormous house. As soon as they entered, they were shocked to see many magical creatures and trinkets around, with many pictures of people they didn’t really recognize. They stood there, not knowing what they were supposed to do when the woman appeared again behind Remus, startling him.

“Why are you all standing like that? Go on, feel at your home!”

“Are we sure that this is the strongest witch of centuries? She is too...

“kind and warm hearted...” The twins were indeed right, and Harry couldn’t exactly blame them after... seeing the other pure-blood families. With all that luxury and power, came arrogancy and they always had to expect the worst. When Dumbledore said that the woman who lived in that house was the strongest of all and had the purest of bloods ever known, that was enough reason for them to fear her even before meeting. They were ready to have a full-blowm fight...

But all they were met with was cakes and a hell alot of food...

As if she was waiting for them to come.

“Hehe, sorry for the way I look! I just came back from a run and had to clean the pottery at the back of the house!” the woman said cheerfully as she sat down and urged everyone to eat with a soft smile, energetic even after being left breathless, which eased the tension and even Sirius, the ever questioning man, started to eat. The house and overall ambiance of it screamed wealth and power, and though it would usually irritate him, Sirius looked around to see many drawing and pictures some left-over food and slight drawings on the walls, drawing that mist have once belongt to a kid...

All the signs that there was people living in this house, happy and alive, full of hope and happiness. Perhaps children that was adored by the parents, played with the child and let them explore everything... So different than any other family he had seen, just what a kid trully deserved.

But there were two things that bugged him, made him feel... strange. What was the reason of you being so different? And why did you look so much like his friend James?

“Miss Y/N... If that’s okay, I was meaning to ask a question...” he started after gulping his meat down and bowed his head in respect while wiping his mouth. You raised your head in confusion and gave him a nod.

“Oh, It’s been a long time since I heard that name... Surely, Albus is the one who told you?” you smirked teasingly and Sirirus did the same back, as he wasn’t used to hearing people use his first name. Daring, he thought while leaning back on his chair. The power that pours out of her is unique... Just what’s your secret?

“Yes, indeed he did... I didn’t know you two were close?”

Just like his ancestors, sneaky...

“Well, if you consider me teaching him for 7 years close... Then yes, we are close.” You weren’t stupid at the ways of Black family, how they sneakily tried to get what they wanted. Though you were aware how Sirius detested his own family, much like the man you once fell in love with, you had to be prepared.

After all, those closest to you were the ones who betrayed you once.

“WAIT YOU THOUGHT IN HOGWARTS?!”

“HOW COME WE DIDN’T KNOW THAT?!”

Flinching at the sudden excited yell of the two red-heads, twins as you expected, you were able to trully look at them for the first time since they came... And the shriek you let out was even louder than a screech of a Hippogriff.

“Red-heads?! Oh Merlin, what did I do wrong to deal with Weasleys again!” you fake-fainted at the sudden revelation, while the red-heads, all of them, looked at you confused. Just why the hell were you so scared of them? They weren’t like He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named after all... Right?

“Woah- Why the hell is she-“

“It’s probably because she is having war flashbacks from your ancestor...” A woman, who had fair blonde hair and many beauty marks across her face came down gracefully, with voice resembling the harps of heaven by how soft and calmly she spoke. She looked around for a few seconds and then went to the woman sitting at the head of the table, not without stopping to look at Harry who blushed under her intense gaze, yet smiled warmly at him with tears sitting at the back of her eyes at the resemblance he had, except the green eyes.

“Mum, it can’t be that bad...” she tried to comfort you, but since she didn’t know the amount of times you had been a victim to Garreth Weasley’s pranks, it was easy to say that.

“No, my sweet Anne, you are right... IT’S THE WORST! THE AMOUNTS OF TIMES I HAD TO COVER HIM UP, AND THE AMOUNT OF TIMES HE PRANKED ME MAKES ME KIND OF LOATHE GARRETH AND HIS LINE!”

Anne shook her head playfully and brought you your tea, the one that would always calm you down, just like how you liked it from what she saw her father doing. And as you slowly calmed down from the sudden panic attack, you grumbled cutely into the cup when Harry’s voice cut you in the middle of telling one of the many pranks Garreth did...

A question falling from his lips, one that you always dreaded to answer., and one that he was curious about after something inside of him itching to make him ask it.

“Miss Y/N... Who was your husband? We didn’t hear much of him and... You didn’t tell us his name either.”

“Yeah, were you two also in Hogwarts together?” You gulped the last bit of the hot liquid as you thanked your daughter, watching as she put them in the kitchen while her eyes didn’t leave a certain tall, red-head and you inyernally gagged and groaned under your breath. All of our immortal lives, she didn’t care about anyone and now is interested in... Garreth’s descendant? Really?

“We... Well, me and my husband met and started dating in fifth year and when the school ended he decided that he would never return back to his family and their dark ways, the pure-blood family and all that shit you know? He asked me if I wanted to go in hiding, after everything we went through, accepted to hide and change our names... And I did, gladly even. Though he was put in Slytherin, he always said that it was because of his heritage and that he always expected it. To be honest, if I hadn’t seen the green robes... I’d have thought he was a Gryffindor or Ravenclaw.” You said softly, thinking about all the adventures and pain you went through with Ominis. It was no easy route, the one you chose to take. But it was worth it, because in the end, both of you were able to move past what was given to you and rather you both chose to be who you were.

Though, it came with a greater cost... A cost that forever wounded you.

Harry watched as you lost yourself in your mind, a longing look settled in your eyes as your finger slowly played with your wedding ring.

The ring you once shared with your husband.

And unknown to you, the sight broke Harry’s heart more than anyone’s.

He never really understood why he suddenly felt at home, as if this... You and this house was all he could ever ask for. There was a strange beating of his heart, as if something was squeezing it, pushing him further to know something... to realise something.

A picture of two people... Two people he didn’t remember much except some blurred images behind his eyelids. A red-head and a man with glasses... Right next to that frame, another man he always saw frequently in his dreams. A man who had milky eyes and blonde hairs...

And in both pictures... you were hugging them close to your chest with a happiness he never saw someone ever having.

“Harry? Are you-“ you noticed his eyes being stuck at something inside the living room and as you turned around to look at what it was, you widened your eyes at the pictures of your family. Pictures where your husband, children and grandchildren were all laughing... Alongside with two people Harry probably knew the best.

A shaky sigh left your lips, tears coming at full speed at the realization of you finally having to explain everything to the boy you failed...

Just like your children who you failed to protect as well.

“Miss Y/N... What is your true name? Your husband’s name?” he gripped the table thightly as Sirius and Remus’ hands found his back under the worried eyes of his friends and he turned to look at the matriarch, you,straight in the eye while Anne rubbed your shoulders, hanging her head low at what was coming and how hard it must be for you.

But you didn’t care anymore. You already failed, what was to come from this anyways?

The least that would happen was that he would try to fight you... which you wouldn’t mind, if it meant you wouldn’t see the pain that was caused because of you.

You have the same fierceness of my husband, dear boy... So much like him, so much like your father...

“Do you wish to know the ones that was forced upon us? The ones that no longer define us, or the new path, new life we chose to have?” you gave a sad, understanding smile at the boy as he slowly had come to realize everything slowly, putting all the puzzle pieces together.

All the pictures of his once family in your home, all the pottery and the little workshop behind the house, they way you knew a lot... About everything. Maybe he didn’t want to accept, or he did since he was finally having a family slowly, but though he might come to regret his decision... He needed you to say it to his face.

“Mum... We can’t hide it from him or anyone else anymore... He deserves to know.”

“I know dear... I know...” you smiled at your sweet daughter as she looked at you worriedly, consoling you in her mind as she talked to you softly while her own set of milky eyes stared at the young boy... The boy who also heard everything through the gift that was passed in your family.

“Both... I want to know both, everything you had been keeping to yourself.” With a nod, you brought some water to him as he gulped it down fast and gave the first part of his request as everyone’s eyes widened at the revelation.

“My husband’s name was Ominis Graunt, direct decendant of Salazar Slytherin and I am the direct decendant of Merlin...”

“No way...” everyone let out at the same time, knowing very well the name that haunted almost all the wizarding world... Even more than the Blacks or Malfoys.

The Noble House of Gaunt... Direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin. The people who lived to torture muggles.

How could their friend be rwlated to those... monsters?

Everyone slowly stood up, a hand on their wands before they were seated back by an invisible force and when they looked around, they saw the green shining eyes of Anne, as she used magic without any wand or hands. “Easy, boys and girls... Listen to the rest of the story.”

As she protected Harry and you, from the judging stares of people, she stood behind you two protectively as you summoned one of the many pictures you had taken of Ominis while he was busy doing what you forced him to do but in the end enjoyed doing it, “pottery”, and one with James as he attended Hogwarts for the first time.

And Harry wasn’t stupid to not realize his baby pictures too, even if he didn’t know much about the rest.

“And...?” He came closer to you with shaky hands, barely holding onto the frame and trying to keep himself from hugging you. You gave a smile to him as you showed the Potter family insignia you and Ominis once created as a joke and showed it to everyone in the room. A chorus of no way’s and shocked gasps found your ears but as you held the last person that was left of your family...

None of them mattered.

“I think you already know the answer, sweet boy.” You caressed his cheeks, and one beauty mark that resembled Ominis’ softly as he closed his eyes and leaned towards your warmth.

“Just please....I need to hear it...” Harry begged but couldn’t stop himself from hugging you when you uttered the last part with tears.

Tears of both pain and joy, caused by your single decision.

A decision you would always curse yourself for doing.

“We are Gaunts by the eyes of many, sweet Harry, but we chose to be Ominis and Y/N...Potter.”

And if it was worth anything, you looked at all the people on the table who had wide eyes just like the plates in front of them, and as you stared at your James’ once best friends with an apologizing frown... You knew that a simple hug and reunion wouldn’t fix everything.

You were cursed for a reason, for making a dumb decision and naively believing that you, Ominis and Sebastian were safe from... everyone.

And because of that, everyone had to pay the price with their lives... As The Potters' Legacy slowly died down...

But if Voldemort wanted it to happen, to erase every track of your blood and what you and your lover wanted to achieve...

This time, he would have to pass through your dead body before he touched even a single hair on Harry’s head.

You didn’t have anything to loose after all, and you would do anything to keep the legacy... safe.

#hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy x mc #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x y/n #ominis x y/n #ominis x you #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt x sebastian sallow x mc #ominis x sebastian x mc

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snowbunnywatching · 8 months

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Given the economic and social dynamics in your fantasy society, i think it would be inevitable for white women to get a pretty sleazy reputation. Both for being loose and easy for black men to bed, but also for being gold diggers and status chasers.

You would probably get treated quite differently as a result. Black women making snide comments and keeping their boyfriends away from you. You might recieve catcalling in public and exploring black hands on night club dance floors. And you would probably struggle to be taken seriously in a professional enviroment, being viewed more as office ornamentation than respected coworker. How would you feel about that?

At some level I would think it was well-deserved.

Let's start with the reputation of being loose. As a white girl, a typical interaction with a Black man would go like this: He sends me a DM on Instagram, telling me I'm "looking real fine for a white girl". I reply with an underwear selfie and tell him that I like his tats.

He asks if I want to come over for some Netflix and chill, and halfway through the first episode of Dear White People I'm bent over the coffee table getting my white cheeks clapped.

Then there's the issue with being "status chasers". In my fantasy society, dating a Black man would be seen as a sign of support for the widespread redistribution of wealth and power taking place.

Being seen in public on the arm of a Black man would be evidence that you're doing your part in making up for the many years of injustice and exploitation carried out by white people.

It would be normal for Black men to see white girls as "just for fun": Great for some freaky, casual sex before you settle down with a Black woman.

Naturally this would result in some harsh treatment from Black women. Both because the public perception of whites is more negative, and because the women would suspect their Black boyfriend of having an affair with me (or another white girl like me).

#racial justice #white guilt

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hadesoftheladies · 9 months

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i've been on radblr for a while, and maybe it's because of the specific users i follow being woc or disabled, but recently i've been seeing more ableist and racist radblr users crawl from whatever hole they've been molting in

in light of a recent conversation thread between @menalez and two whitefems, i've come to see the issue other radblr users have been talking about

radblr lacks a culture of intersectionality. there are many white/straight/abled women here who think solidarity means we only cater to their liberation, and they can ditch us whenever they please. it is one-sided support, and isn't solidarity at all. they are used to being centered, used to seeing themselves as default woman, used to seeing themselves as the standard of feminism and womanhood. their problems as more deserving.

i'm not going to use this post to diagnose radblr, but to say why these women are insanely stupid

racist and imperial radfems have been bold in their assertion that their empires are somehow benevolent, neutral, helpful to outsiders. they have endorsed their militaries, asserted that they are genetically and intellectually superior, and that they're oh so tired of stupid, backward women from stupid, backward countries whining about how colonization improved their society. (and some western black users have agreed).

and it's so STUPID because . . . how do you not see you're approving of the structure of your own oppression while complaining about the injustice of it?

you can acknowledge that men have misattributed women's achievements to men, that they have destroyed, twisted, and erased their history. you can acknowledge that the reason there weren't as many women geniuses as men was because of the brutal subjugation and social, economic barriers women faced, or some just had their ideas stolen and died unnamed and unattached to their invention. you understand how women's language, spaces, and philosophy have been hijacked by the male perspective in everything, from religion, to education, to literature. in marxist or materialist analysis, you understand that economy creates culture.

but you can't understand any of that when it comes to majority world countries? you mysteriously lose your capacity to analyze culture when you're at the top? your countries are rich because they're just so gosh darn good at being rich, aren't they? stolen wealth and labor doesn't give you a head start at all! and if money is power, and you have the money, you can get away with stealing even more, but that only applies to men, see? not our nice, lovely, governments! colonization and war aren't actually that bad or brutal and don't have any lasting negative effects! neocolonial systems don't exist! it's not like our beloved empires have anything to do with killing the cultures of billions because they can, they have, and it is in their best political and economic interest to. black people never did anything significant! this is a fact, and has nothing to do with deliberate propaganda from imperial countries! imperialist propaganda, ha! imagine that? african and asian people can't be smarter than white people, because . . . . genetics! whitefems on radblr care so much about science when it comes to transwomen, but their brains turn to mush when it comes to thinking whiteness somehow genetically increases intelligence. biology, everybody!

it's honestly funny. like you're trading one regime for another, congrats! you're anti-revolution! you can get off our backs and stop using our plight as examples of your oppression.

and to the british storm trooper that claimed her intelligence was genetic--if you truly believe that, you've got two options:

consider that this statement is unscientific, racist, and false, or

take an ancestry DNA test and find out if you're adopted :)

#radfem #radblr #racism #colonialism

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spideybatsy · 11 months

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A+B | Chapter Five

Summary: GN!reader is falling in love with Bruce Wayne, even if they won’t admit it. Everything takes a turn for the worse when Bruce’s biggest secret comes to light.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x GN!Reader

WC: 2.1K

Warnings: na

Notes: Can be read as any batsy you’d like, I personally picture Bale bc I’m a slut for him <3

Masterlist

For the next few days, I feel helpless. It’s like I’m on autopilot. Waking up, going to work, coming home, and going to bed. I can tell Stacey is concerned about me but thankfully, she never pushes me to talk. She just gently reminds me that she’s here for me when I’m ready.

“Don’t take no for an answer.”

The voice on the TV catches my attention, it was a cheesy talk show. I don’t even remember it starting, there’d been reruns of Friends playing seemingly seconds ago. I turn to Stacey, who is staring down at her phone screen.

“Some people will try and hold you back from what you want. You can’t let that happen.” The live audience hollers in response as the host walks to the woman on the couch. “What do you want?” She puts the mic up to the woman’s mouth.

“I want love!”

“So, what are you going to do?”

The woman stands up. “Go out and get it!”

The screen turns black as Stacey gets off the couch. “Come on, time to go to bed.”

“Stace.” Her eyes shoot to me, and she turns off the phone. “I have to do something.”

“What?”

“I have to let him know he can’t just cut me out like this,” I said. “That I deserve more than that.”

She takes a seat next to me. “How are you going to do that?”

Now that I’m standing outside of Wayne Tower, I’m not sure that this is the best idea. What if he calls security on me?

No, I can’t back out. If he won’t talk to me after today, at least I’ll know I’ve done everything I can. The ball will be in his court.

I take a deep breath and push open the door and walk inside. I’ve never actually been here before, so I take a second to look around. Despite the building having been here for decades, it’s modern and sleek. Clearly renovated recently, it reeks of wealth.

There’s a receptionist at the front desk and a part of me feels the need to hide away. She’s stunning. I’m surprised she isn’t on the front page of a beauty magazine. Or on Bruce’s arm.

“Hi, I’d like to see Bruce Wayne.” I’m grateful my voice doesn’t shake.

She looks up at me through her glasses. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No, I was hoping you could call him and let him know A is here.”

She looks me up and down, and an almost condescending smile crosses her face. “Mr Wayne doesn’t see people without an appointment.”

“Please.” This time my voice does crack. “Just let him know A is here.”

She sighs and picks up the phone, dialling as she stares up at me.

“Good morning, Mr Wayne. I have an A here to see you.” A cruel smile lifts her lips. “Yes, yes. I’ll get security to escort them out.” She flinches, the voice on the other side of the phone is so loud that even I can hear it. “Of course, sir. Sorry sir.” Then she puts the phone down.

“Mr Wayne can’t see you at the moment, but you are welcome to wait.” She gestures over at the couches. I note that she won’t look me in the eyes anymore.

I’d been prepared to spend hours waiting for Bruce, having packed several books and even some yarn and crochet hooks. After half an hour I glance up and notice the receptionist looking over at me. She hurriedly looks away and whispers something into the phone before hanging up.

It was only 10 minutes later that I looked up and notice the man making his way to me. It’s not Bruce but I’m happy, nevertheless.

“Alfred!” I stood from the chair.

He smiles and draws me into a hug. I notice the receptionist staring at me again and whispering something else into the phone.

“Good job,” he says as he pulls away. I can tell he’s talking about my showing up here.

I can’t help the smile on my face. “What are you doing here?”

“Master Wayne called me to drive you home.” He must see the conflict on my face because he adds on. “We’ll talk about it more in the car.”

I nod, grab my bag, and follow him out to the car. I’ve been in this car a few times now but something new catches my eye. There’s always been a small assortment of snacks behind the driver's seat but they’ve all been changed out. They’re all my favourite treats.

“Alfred, what happened to the food?” I notice his smile in the rear-view mirror.

“Master Wayne wanted to try something new.”

The warmth that fills my chest is quickly darkened when I remember the situation.

“Why won’t he talk to me?” My voice is so soft that I’m worried he won’t hear me.

“Master Wayne is a strange man.” Alfred takes a second. “He thinks everyone is better off without him, especially when it comes to his alter ego.”

“I don’t feel better off.”

“I know.” We sit in silence for a moment. “Master Wayne has a date planned tomorrow night at Alexandros. It would be a shame if you showed up at 6 pm with a date of your own.”

“A date?”

“Master Wayne is a very… protective man.”

I take his words in for a moment. “Are you saying I should make him jealous?”

“I’d never say such a thing.” I can see his smile in the mirror again. “But we must all turn to dramatic measures when the times call.”

Even in my best clothes, I feel underdressed for Alexandros. Nick leads me inside, his hand holding my own. He’s one of the only people from university I kept in contact with. When I reached out about dinner, I was honest and explained the whole situation to him. Well, most of the situation. I left out the whole Batman thing, obviously. He instantly jumped on board, partially to help me and partially to see the great Bruce Wayne in the flesh.

“How are we going to pay for this?” Nick whispered into my ear.

Alfred had insisted that Bruce would pay for dinner and if worst came to worst, I was to call him. I don’t think I could ever ask Alfred for money, so I hoped he was right about Bruce wanting to show off.

“It’s covered, don’t worry about it.”

We smile in unison as we approach the host. He is searching for our reservation when I feel the back of my neck tingle. He’s here.

He says my name and I can feel his shock in every letter. I put on my best-surprised face and turn to him.

“Bruce?”

Nick’s eyes widen as I quickly squeeze his hand in mine.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce takes a step forward, seemingly forgetting all about his date. She’s beautiful, tall with the perfect amount of curves. I recognise her instantly, she’s a lingerie model.

“The same as you, it seems,” I reply.

The guilt in Bruce’s eyes goes as quickly as it comes. He introduces me to his date; her name is Nicole.

“Well, Bruce and Nicole this is Nick. Nick, Bruce and Nicole.”

Nick and Bruce shake hands and I can tell Bruce squeezes hard. Nick's hand is red when he pulls away.

“You must be the friend from university.” I’m surprised Bruce remembers. “Finally made your move?”

“Better late than never.” We share a cheesy romantic look and I’m proud of us for being such convincing liars. I’m also happy I never told Bruce Nick’s gay, otherwise this could’ve gone south very fast.

“Your table for two is now ready.” The host comes to our rescue.

“Nice seeing you again Bruce, until next time.” We go to walk away but Bruce acts faster.

“What if we sit together for dinner? A nice double date.” He says it like a question, but I know there’s no room for dispute.

“Unfortunately, Mr Wayne, there are no tables for four available.” The host responds.

Bruce pulls out his chequebook and starts writing.

“This isn’t a question of money, Mr Wayne. We are fully booked.”

The smirk Bruce responds with is so unlike him that it sends a shiver down my body. I hate it.

He hands the cheque to the host. “I’m the owner now, get us a table for four.”

To say dinner has been awkward is the understatement of the year. When Nick had gone to pull out my seat, Bruce had basically sprinted to get there first and help me sit. Poor Nicole looked astonished when Bruce then sat down, completely ignoring her. Thankfully, Nick went over and helped her to her seat. I thanked him when he sat down, which just made Bruce agitated.

I’m not sure what his game is. The only thing I can think of is maybe he wants to show that he’s more interested in me than her. All it does is make me feel bad for her.

Bruce starts asking question after question, basically all of them directed at me. Most of which I know he already has the answer to. As soon as I can get an extra word in, I ask Nicole how her week has been.

While we chat, I can see Bruce staring daggers into Nick. I feel so bad for the guy, I might have to buy him a gift basket after this. I can tell he’s uncomfortable by the way he grips my hand under the table. I try to squeeze back in solidarity.

“How has your week been?” Nicole asks me.

I can’t stop the hurt that floods my eyes but try to blink it away. “I went to see a friend and he wouldn’t talk to me. He just sent someone else to come deal with me.”

At least Bruce has the decency to look down in shame, even if it only lasts a moment.

“I’m sorry, that’s horrible.” Nicole reaches over the table and takes my other hand. I smile, grateful for her empathy. “Have you spoken to him now?”

I feel Bruce’s eyes on me. “Kind of? We haven’t really spoken. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s worth it anymore.”

Before anyone can respond, the waitress brings out our mains.

We eat mainly in silence, sometimes commenting on the meal. The tension is palpable, everyone can feel it.

“Do you want to try some of the soup?” When no one responds, I look up and notice Bruce gazing straight at me. “I know you love it.”

Nick can’t help but laugh next to me. “You hate soup.”

Bruce’s face scrunches, in the same way I imagine a toddler would mid hissy fit. “No, they don’t.”

“They certainly don’t like pumpkin soup.” Nick laughs even harder, and I can’t help but join him. It’s so stupid but with all the tension that’s been suffocating us all night, something just snaps.

“I-I,” I struggle to get the words out between, “hate pumpkin soup.”

Bruce looks down at his soup, which is definitely pumpkin, and crosses his arms.

“I feel like I’m missing out on an inside joke.” Nicole pipes up.

Wiping the tears from my eyes, I finally gain some sort of composure.

“Back in university, I ate pumpkin soup all the time.” Nick starts laughing again, burying his head in my shoulder. “Then one day I ate an out-of-date can and spewed everywhere. Haven’t touched canned pumpkin soup since.”

Bruce tries and fails to hide the upturn on his lips. “I’m sure this isn’t canned.”

“I’m sure it isn’t. I’m still not willing to risk it, though.” I lean over and place my free hand on his arm. “But thank you for offering.”

This seems to lift his spirits even higher, as he instantly grabs my hand with his own. “I’ll get Alfred to make you some pumpkin soup. He loves making it.”

“That sounds nice.”

We stare at each other for a moment, and it feels like our first real interaction since that night of the robbery. Unfortunately, it’s cut short when Nicole coughs. I quickly take my hand away, even though his remains still.

Nick, sensing the tension beginning to rise again, quickly steps in. “God, I can’t wait for dessert.”

As Alfred expected, Bruce picked up the bill for dinner. Both Nick and I thanked him several times, but Bruce brushed it off.

Nick went outside to get the car while Bruce, Nicole and I waited inside. Bruce pulled me aside, just out of Nicole’s hearing range.

“I wanted to say,” he took a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Nick called for me, waiting by the car. As I moved to him, I turned back to Bruce. “Call me later, we’ll talk about it.”

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bruce Wayne x reader #Christian Bale #batman #batman x reader #gn!reader #bruce Wayne x gn!reader #bale!bruce Wayne x gn!reader

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gemathest · 5 months

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sudden headcanon

i can't remember if I've seen this before, someone has already posted something along these lines, or if I've already posted before, but I'll say it again dangit

one of my headcanons for the naming of the queens is that each one is actually the soul of a woman who died irl in our history in unjust/tragic ways. the goddess then salvages their spirits and puts them into bodies resembling their bodies in life (why the queens never look alike despite being triplet sisters), just this time they have black hair and black eyes. because of this rebirth, the goddess views them as her 'daughters', for whom she has saved and given a new chance at a life they should have lived with all the opportunities for wealth, power and respect they deserved in their previous lives.

how this relates to the ascension year i am not sure as of yet

#three dark crowns #tdc #two dark reigns #one dark throne #threedarkcrowns #fivedarkfates

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fandomshatepeopleofcolor · 6 months

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do you plan on watching the hunger games prequel? it's got rachel zegler and viola davis, though it sees like the latter is playing the antagonist

I am planning on seeing the sequel even though I don't agree with casting Viola Davis as Dr. Volumnia Gaul. Like don't get me wrong here because it's been two years since I read the book but I don't remember her being Black?

The problem with Dr Gaul being Black imho is that she's basically the one that mentors Coriolanus Snow. Like I'm not saying she makes him the monster he is in the later series... that's all on Snow.

Like here's my headcanon on how Dr. Gaul got to be so cold and calculating. She's a scientist right? Got her doctorate and everything. To me she seemed more like Johanna Mason where she'd already lost everyone and then you add the civil war to the mix maybe she just lost all sense of compassion???

This is gonna get long and there's gonna be discussions of spoilers from the book and the movie below the cut. Please know that there's discussions of torture and child murder appropriate to the hunger games franchise also below the cut.

I'll start at the beginning here. the wiki describes Dr. Gaul as being the indirect creator of the Hunger Games because crassus snow and casca highbottom only came up with the proposal for the hunger games as an assignment. (I'm not getting into specifics here please reference the wiki if you want to place blame on just one person), Like the hunger games were a group effort to be sure.

The real problem here is the phrasing of the ask. Dr. Gaul may be partly responsible for the Hunger Games and for mentoring Coriolanus Snow but she's not the antagonist. The real antagonist was and is the state which implemented and continues to perpetuate the hunger games.

To phrase Dr. Gaul (Davis) as the antagonist washes Coriolanus Snow of his instincts which are entitlement and believing he deserves the good life. its what leads him to cause the death of his friend and take his place in his family.

we know that Dr. Gaul is called a cruel woman but we don't know what makes her cruel or how she arrived at that cruelty. She's certainly not evil incarnate and it's actually Crassus Snow who turned in that assignment he didn't have to you know? I'm not absolving Dr. Gaul at all but I know people are going to woobify Coriolanus because the actor is white and blond.

They're going to blame everything Coriolanus Snow does on Dr. Gaul's mentorship. But like... Corio was already messed up and he could have chosen a happy life in district 12 with Lucy or run away even but he didn't want that he wanted a life of power and wealth.

I'm basically seeing this movie in theaters because I want to see if the movie makes the misogynoir implicit in Dr. Gaul's casting explicit. And by that I mean, will the movie absolve Corio of his own motivations for turning on his friend and Lucy and instead make Dr. Gaul responsible for it? because I can already tell you that's what the fandom is gonna do.

anyways its gonna be a shit show and the casting directors shouldn't have cast a darkskinned black woman as Dr. Gaul even if I forgot that she was written that way. (which tbh I'm not sure if she is Black in the book), Its a very colorblind racist way of casting.

mod ali

#misogynoir #dr volumnia gaul #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #fhpoc asks #viola davis

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notyouraryang0dd3ss · 4 days

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i think people wouldn’t complain as much about the 1830 line (don’t get me wrong, it’s a cringe ass line even within the context of the song and the emily dickinson* connection) if swifties weren’t know for being racists. i think they don’t see themselves as racists, but it’s not uncommon to see them just being extremely shitty towards beyoncé for example, some people were saying cowboy carter will win aoty just because jay-z complained at the ceremony, as if black artists can’t win awards because they worked hard for it. and then, when the eras tour in brazil happened, i saw swifties being xenophobic and racist, saying that brazil didn’t deserve taylor, that it was an unsafe place etc. they also say beyoncé fans use racism as a crutch** because it’s the only excuse they have to say beyoncé deserves recognition.

i’m talking about beyoncé because it seems like the longest “rivalry” (since the 2009 vmas and now the movies), but yeah, it’s weird to see comparisons with mj, and some swifties also shit talked zendaya last year when she liked one of taylor’s posts

*if you want to reference emily at least cut the golden retriever line lmao

**english is not my first language so i don’t know if i made myself clear sorry

she references emily dickinson???? emily dickinson did not spend her life as a lesbian reclusive writer to be co opted by taylor swift my god 😭

TRUE the 1830’s line is made MUCH worse because of how racist swifties are point blank period. theyre deeply delusional ppl and i have no idea what they consider racist when they literally respond to black ppl who point out taylor’s white privilege with “the race card” and call Beyoncé’s music “zimbawbe ringtone sales” (no im not joking look it up). when they saw taylor’s wealth surpassed kanye’s and said taylor could “buy” him as a #own like how much more blatant can you get in your racism (why does she still have black fans?!?).

swifties truly and honestly must listen to no other artist except taylor swift because of the way they act about black music. they really do think black people are #diversityhires and the awards we receive for our work are out of pity/anti racism rather than legitimate achievements. and telling Beyoncé fans they use racism as a crutch as if 1989 winning over To Pimp A Butterfly wasn’t peak racism. and swifties shit talking brazil isnt surprising because of how racist they are. they truly honestly hate brown and black people and view this thin blonde haired blue eyed white woman as the most superior and wonder why everyone calls them racist 😭

its always funny when swifties try to compare miss swift to Beyoncé as if Beyoncé didn’t have her first #1 by the time Taylor was 9 years old. They’re not even contemporaries. Beyoncé literally escorted Taylor back on stage after the MTV incident as if she was escorting a child. It’s so inappropriate to compare those two artists by age alone, let alone TALENT. Also swifties talked about Zendaya for LIKING one of taylor swift’s posts????? why?????

#anti taylor swift #ask #anon #anti swifties #beyoncé #mj #jay z #the tortured poets department #eras tour #brazil #notyouraryang0dd3ss

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blackcat419 · 7 months

Text

Laena, Daemon, Baela, and Rhaena scene rewrite ideas

I started typing and I just couldn’t stop. Laena should have been such a great character.

The writers also easily could have written a better love story, relationship with her children, and characterized Laena by just changing the dialogue and actresses of the scenes Laena is already in. These changes can also remove a lot of the Misogynoir present in the story by not making Laena a place holder for a white woman, not making her death set up for a white woman’s death, removing the ‘fast black girl’ trope, giving her a truly loving marriage, and not turning her funeral into a joke. Disclaimer, despite my profile suggesting otherwise, I am not a cat but a white woman writing. Let me know if anything is falling into a bad trope for black women and I’ll rewrite it to be better!

First things first, I would age Laena up so she’s actually her cannon age when she marries Daemon. Savannah Steyn will be the first actress we see playing Laena. Visually and in text Laena is about 4 years older than Rhaenyra and Daemon. Savannah will play Laena from when she’s age 16 to age 20/21. Then Nanna Blondell will play Laena when she’s 30/31.

Pre time skip: Savannah Steyn

The first scene Laena is in is the joust, instead of having her just sit back and watch, Daemon should ask for her favor instead of Alicent’s. Laena can have a playful line like, “fight well cousin, your armor is too pretty to see dented.” Instead of low cut dresses for Laena’s signature style, she should have ornately beaded and embroidered dresses to show of her style and family’s wealth. For the joust she has on a pretty blue dress with embroidered sea horses (the animal not the hybrid). After giving her favor to Daemon, Laena can join Rhaenyra and Alicent with the gossiping, she can ask who they think will win. Alicent can mention she hopes her brother will win his first tourney and Rhaenyra can say she knows Daemon will win.

For the Viserys and Laena scene, Viserys can ask how Vhagar is doing and Laena can say she plans to travel with Vhagar around the world. We don’t have the awkward bedding talk, just a stif conversation between two people not remotely interested in eachother. This can also add to the creepiness of Viserys choosing Alicent as she’s younger than Laena.

Next we see Laena is when Viserys is proposing marriage between Rhaenyra and Laenor. Laena can wear a layered blue dress over a silvery blouse like the one she wears in the show but much more luxurious and less sexualizing. Laena then takes Rhaenyra away and can talk about her brother, saying he likes handsome people, implying that Laena is helping make sure Rhaenyra knows Laenor is gay and is okay with it.

At the wedding reception, instead of a low cut gold dress that doesn’t fit the style of the show, Laena wears a gown similar to the gown Rhaenys wears but with a golf and blue color scheme. Daemon should be the one to approach Laena, commenting on how beautiful she looks. Laena can play coy, saying that she is bethrothed to the sea lord of Braavos’ son and Daemon saying that she deserves a real knight and princes, not some Bravossi nobleman. Daemon persuading Laena because he wants her.

Post time skip: Nanna Blondell

Instead of Daemon keeping Laena in Pentos, have them be exploring the free cities with their kids and planning to have the baby on driftmark! The Pentosie noble man can offer for them to stay and daemon and Laena as a united front say they are travelers and don’t plan on staying in one place for too long. They can talk about visiting Old Valyria! Daring and adventurous!

Laena can talk to Rhaena about claiming Vermithor or silver wing, bringing up how she claimed Vhagar. Sneaking away from her father and seeking out the biggest dragon alive. Telling Rhaena she can do the same and that dragons love courage.

The baby can be premature and Daemon should be by her side during the labor, comforting her and supporting her. Daemon should also not accept the doctor saying Laena will die, he should shout at him to find someone who can save his wife.

Laena’s death should have been with daemon and her girls bringing her to Vhagar, not to burn, but to be with the member of her family. Daemon should weep when she dies in his arms! Pulling Baela and Rhaena close to comfort them. And Vhagar letting out a mournful cry for Laena.

And at the funeral, Daemon should not laugh at Vaemond’s eulogy, he should do a couch to be like “really? At my wife’s funeral?” Then have a moment with Corlys and Rhaenys where he apologizes for not staying on driftmark for Laena’s pregnancy.

Also, hooking up with Rhaenyra should be a low point for both of them. Both have lost the person they loved and started their family with. They would say they loved Laena and Harwin and miss them deeply. Toxic coping but atleast they are hurt by the death of their lovers!

And we get more range of emotion instead of just “oh no, wifey’s dead. Better marry my niece!”

This should have been where we see the “good” in Daemon, his love for his daughters and Laena.

Little aside for more characterization for the dragon twins:

For Rhaena, Daemon singing to Vermithor could have been him with Rhaena trying to approach the dragon, he can say “don’t be scared” to Rhaena but she gets to nervous to approach Vermithor. Daemon can give her a hug and tell her she’ll have a dragon soon.

For Baela, when they arrive at kings landing to present Luke’s claim, Daemon should give Baela a hug and tell her he missed her, Baela can counter with “you visited driftmark last week dad!” And Dameon can give a sad smile being like “can’t a father miss his daughter?” Showing his love for his kids and also paralleling Visery’s love for Rhaenyra.

I’m just spitballing here but I came up with a better story for Laena, Daemon, Baela, and Rhaena that shows their connection as a family, the grief of loosing Laena, and keeps Daemon from looking like a dead beat!

In short: let Matt Smith and Nanna Blondell kiss and act their hearts out to eachother!!!

#house of the dragon #hotd #HotD rewrite #daemon Targaryen #laena velaryon #laena deserves so much more #Baela Targaryen #Rhaena Targaryen #making Dameon x Laena Tragic for the watcher #giving a little more to Harwin x Rhaenyra #making Daemon not a dead beat #daemon x Laena

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