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#its the myth of how all languages were born

merymoonbeam · 3 months

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A Tool of Creation

CC3 spoiler. You have been warned.

In acomaf we learn that book of breathings was made to control the cauldron.

“When the Cauldron was made,” the carver interrupted, “its dark maker used the last of the molten ore to forge a book. The Book of Breathings. In it, written between the carved words, are the spells to negate the Cauldron’s power—or control it wholly. But after the War, it was split into two pieces. One went to the Fae, one to the six human queens. It was part of the Treaty, purely symbolic, as the Cauldron had been lost for millennia and considered mere myth. The Book was believed harmless, because like calls to like—and only that which was Made can speak those spells and summon its power. No creature born of the earth may wield it, so the High Lords and humans dismissed it as little more than a historical heirloom, but if the Book were in the hands of something reforged … You would have to test such a theory, of course—but … it might be possible.” (acomaf)

So...only made can use its magic.

Made = Feyre , Nesta and Elain

And later in the book we learn that the book is written in Holy Tongue—Leshon Hakodesh.

She stared and stared at the Book—as if it were a ghost, as if it were a miracle—and said, “It is the Leshon Hakodesh. The Holy Tongue.” Those quicksilver eyes shifted to Rhysand, and I realized she’d understood, too, why she’d gone. Rhysand said, “I heard a legend that it was written in a tongue of mighty beings who feared the Cauldron’s power and made the Book to combat it. Mighty beings who were here … and then vanished. You are the only one who can uncode it.” (acomaf)

Might beings: Daglan/Asteri

And this is confirmed in Hofas.

Amren turned to Rhysand and said in that new, strange language—their language: “The glowing letters inked on her back … they’re the same as those in the Book of Breathings.” (acomaf)

Bryce's tattoo is in the holy language.

And later in hofas Rigelus says that it was his people's language.

“I can teach you things you’ve never even dreamed of,” Rigelus promised. “The language inked on your back—it is our language. From our home world. I can teach you how to wield it. Any world might be open to you, Bryce Quinlan. Name the world, and it shall be yours.”(hofas)

So the book of breathings can control cauldron and it can "open any world" to who can wield it.

Also in Hofas we learn that Asteri corrupted the Cauldron.

The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.(hofas)

So asteri turned it from tool of creation to tool of destruction.

Once upon a time...cauldron was good.

Can we use Book Of Breathings to uncorrupt the Cauldron? To bring it back to its natural "tool of creation" state?

In Hoeab we learn that the book of breathings is in crescent city. In jesiba's library.

Micah loomed over her. She stretched her arm out—toward the shelf. Her tingling fingers brushed over the titles. On the Divine Number; The Walking Dead; The Book of Breathings; The Queen with Many Faces …

Do we need to get book of breathings from crescent city? Is the crossover not over yet? Are IC going to think with bryce having the language of book of breathings tattooed to her body she might have had access to book of breathings at some point? Are we going back to cc in the next acotar book?

Also it is a great time to add that Cauldron is obsessed with Elain.

“You stole from the Cauldron,” I said to Nesta, who seemed ready to jump between all of us and Elain. “But what if the Cauldron gave something to Elain?” (acowar)

The Cauldron purred in Elain’s presence as the King of Hybern slumped to his knees, clawing at the knife jutting through his throat. Elain backed away a step (Acowar)

The Cauldron seemed to realize what she’d done, too, as his head thumped onto the mossy ground. That Elain … Elain had defended this thief. Elain, who it had gifted with such powers, found her so lovely it had wanted to give her something … It would not harm Elain, even in its hunt to reclaim what had been taken. It retreated the moment Elain’s eyes fell on our dead father lying in the adjacent clearing. The moment the scream came out of her.(Acowar

Why did it give elain such powers? Does it want someone to see how it was corrupted? Does it want to turn into tool of creation state again? Does it see elain as its salvation? (As @riddlecrux talked to me about). All the others saw cauldron as a thing to be used. A thing to be control. But it was only elain who had never stolen from it as nesta did while she was in the cauldron. It found Elain so lovely that it gave her the seer ability.

And from acotar we know that elain look at things as hope.

I gazed again at that sad, dark house—the place that had been a prison. Elain had said she missed it, and I wondered what she saw when she looked at the cottage. If she beheld not a prison but a shelter—a shelter from a world that had possessed so little good, but she tried to find it anyway, even if it had seemed foolish and useless to me. She had looked at it that cottage with hope; I had looked at it with nothing but hatred. And I knew which one of us had been stronger. (Acotar)

So maybe all cauldron needs for someone to look at it with hope. Also @riddlecrux told me that in cauldron myths and legends someone goes willingly into the cauldron to destroy it. Maybe in this case someone willingly going inside it uncorrupts the Cauldron..."Through love all is possible"

And we know that Cauldron is the most important thing in acotar

“Long ago, before the High Fae, before man, there was a Cauldron … They say all the magic was contained inside it, that the world was born in it. But it fell into the wrong hands. And great and horrible things were done with it. Things were forged with it. Such wicked things that the Cauldron was eventually stolen back at great cost. It could not be destroyed, for it had Made all things, and if it were broken, then life would cease to be. So it was hidden. And forgotten. Only with that Cauldron could something that is dead be reforged like that.” (Acomaf)

And in Hofas we learn that Daglan/Asteri made the Cauldron a kill switch.

“Once we left our home world, our powers began to dim. Too late, we realized that we had been dependent on our land’s inherent magic. The magic in other worlds was not potent enough. Yet we could not find the way back home. Those of us who ventured here found ways to amplify that power, thanks to the gifts of the land. We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.” Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron …” “And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”

In my Mystic&Seers post I connected The Void and Cauldron to each other.

I managed to stand. To take one step before I felt it. The … thing in the Cauldron. Or lack of it. It was lack and substance, absence and presence. And … it was leaking into the world.I dared a step toward it. And what I beheld in those ruins of the Cauldron… It was a void. But also not a void—a growth.It did not belong here. Belong anywhere. (Acowar)

The darkness paused. “You are impertinent as well. Do you not know where I come from? My father was the Void, the Being That Existed Before. Chaos was his bride and my dam. It is to them that we shall all one day return, and their mighty powers that run in my blood.” (hosab)

And from Hofas we know that the Void is actually a blackhole.

The only force in the universe that ate light, so strong no light could ever escape it. A portal to nowhere. To a black hole. Wasn’t that the unholy power that Apollion possessed? The power of the Void. The antithesis of light.

And you know how Elain was when she came out of the Cauldron?

She had been always so full of light. Perhaps that was why she now kept all the curtains open. To fill the void that existed where all of that light had once been. And now nothing remained

The power of the Void...The antithesis of Light.

Elain got rid of that murkiness in her eyes. When Azriel understood what was wrong with her.

It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed. He asked Elain, “There is another queen?”

Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing again. As if the understanding, our understanding … it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.

Maybe thats all Cauldron needs. So maybe we just need to get rid of the Void, to make sure Cauldron returns to its natural state—a tool of creation.

Also in my Mystic&Seer posts. I looked up what Mysticism is.

Mysticism is popularly known as becoming one with God or the Absolute, but may refer to any kind of ecstasy or altered state of consciousness which is given a religious or spiritual meaning. It may also refer to the attainment of insight in ultimate or hidden truths, and to human transformation supported by various practices and experiences.

Cauldron is the absolute. We looked up that above.

The hidden truths part.

When theia and fionn overthorwn the daglan they didn't learn all their secrets.

They fought the Daglan and won, she went on. Using the Daglan’s own weapons, they destroyed them. Yet my parents did not think to learn the Daglan’s other secrets—they were too weary, too eager to leave the past behind.

And Cauldron made Elain a seer. Maybe to see to learn the other secrets The Daglan had?

We can't even ask Amren because her timeline doesn't even match.

In acosf we learn this.

Rhys shook his head. “Only vaguely now. From what I’ve gleaned, she arrived during those years before Fionn and Gwydion rose, and went into the Prison during the Age of Legends—the time when this land was full of heroic figures who were keen to hunt down the last members of their former masters’ race. They feared Amren, believing her one of their enemies, and threw her into the Prison. When she emerged again, she’d missed Fionn’s fall and the loss of Gwydion, and found the High Lords ruling.”

The problem is how can she go into prison when there was no...prison.

Silene made the prison what it was after she returned from Crescent City. So before fionn's fall...there were no Prison. Actually theia ruled from the Prison Island.

Our home had been left empty since we’d vanished. As if the other Fae thought it cursed. So I made it truly cursed. Damned it all.

One after another, I hunted monsters—the remaining pets of the Daglan—until many of the lowest rooms were filled with them. Until my once-beautiful home became a prison. Until even the land was so disgusted by the evil I’d gathered here that the islands shriveled and the earth became barren. The winged horses who hadn’t gone with my mother to Midgard, who had once flown in the skies, playing in the surf … they were nearly gone. Not a single living soul remained, except for the monstrosities in the mountain.

So even Amren doesn't know. She is even confused in hofas.

Amren picked at an invisible speck on her silk blouse. “It’s murky. I went in before …” She shook her head. “But when I came out, there were rumors. That a great number of people had vanished, as if they had never been. Some said to another world, others said they’d moved on to distant lands, still others said they’d been chosen by the Cauldron and spirited away somewhere.”

So who is better to learn these secret than a Cauldron Made seer?

Also in hofas we learn that Cauldron sits on top of Ramiel.

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”

And from Acosf we know that nobody went to look at what lies under ramiel. Sure enough Eris says "secrets". Maybe like daglan secrets???

Eris shrugged, and Nesta knew Cassian monitored his every breath. “There are three of them, you know. Sister peaks. This one, the mountain called the Prison, and the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel. All bald, barren mountains at odds with those around them.”

Eris gave him a mocking smile, but continued, “Unsurprisingly, the Illyrians were never curious enough to see what secrets lie beneath Ramiel. If it, too, was carved up like the others by ancient hands.”

What if there is more to under ramiel than we thought? What if its a secret Daglan hideout? I went into detail and what could have inspired it in my Wild Hunt post if you want to read it.

Also we know from acosf that Enalius tried to stop the "enemy" from reaching the stone on top of Ramiel.

Emerie’s eyes shone. “Long ago—so long ago they don’t even have a precise date for it—a great war was fought between the Fae and the ancient beings who oppressed them. One of its key battles was here, in these mountains. Our forces were battered and outnumbered, and for some reason, the enemy was desperate to reach the stone at the top of Ramiel. We were never taught the reason why; I think it’s been forgotten. But a young Illyrian warrior named Enalius held the line against the enemy soldiers for days. He found a natural archway of stone amongst the tangle of boulders and made that his bottleneck. He died in the end, but he held off the enemy long enough for our allies to reach us. This Rite is all to honor him. So much of the history has been lost, but the memory of his bravery remains.”

It was forgotten? Or was it never learned? What if it wasnt The stone the daglan was trying to reach but Cauldron as we know it stood on top of Ramiel? What if they were trying to reach that?

We also learn more about Enalius in hofas.

“You are no creator of mine,” Azriel said coldly. The Starsword gleamed in his other hand. If they bothered him, if they called to him, he didn’t let on. Neither hand so much as twitched. The Asteri’s eyes flared with recognition at the long blade. “Did Fionn send you, then? To slay me in my sleep? Or was it that traitor Enalius? I see that you bear his dagger—as his emissary? Or his assassin?”

The Truth-teller was Enalius's dagger. How did Azriel come to possess it? And we know that after Enalius's dead Fionn took possession of it as it was his friends dagger.

My father had never shown himself to be giving—long had he kept Gwydion and never once offered it to my mother. The dagger that had belonged to his dear friend, slain during the war, hung at his side, unused. But not for long.

And we know that Elain used the TT to kill the King of Hybern.

But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

So how did Elain stepped out of a shadow?

The asteri under Prison says Azriel doesnt know it use—its full potential.

Vesperus took another step, steadier now, and smiled past Bryce. At Azriel, at Truth-Teller. “You don’t know how to use it, do you?” Azriel pointed the dagger toward the advancing Asteri. “Pretty sure this end’s the one that’ll go through your gut.” Vesperus chuckled, her dark hair swaying with each inching step closer. “Typical of your kind. You want to play with our weapons, but have no concept of their true abilities. Your mind couldn’t hold all the possibilities at once.”

True abilities? All possibilities? There is more than just creating a portal to nowhere with gwydion? Maybe that's how Elain could step out of a shadow? The "unknown" abilities of the Truth-Teller?

Also Autumn king says this:

“The Starsword is Made, as you called it.” He waved an idle hand, sparks at his fingertips. “The knife can Unmake things. Made and Unmade. Matter and antimatter. With the right influx of power—a command from the one destined to wield them—they can be merged. And they can create a place where no life, no light exists. A place that is nothing. Nowhere.”

As @offtorivendell theorised in her mating bond theory. Did the Asteri messed with the mating bonds too?

Can the Truth-teller unmake a mating bond? As it looks the cauldron was corrupted? It even ties to Book Of Breathings and what it said in acomaf:

Unmade and Made; Made and Unmade—that is the cycle. Like calls to like.

And don't ever forget that...

"What if the Cauldron was wrong?" 🫡

#elriel #cc3 spoilers #cauldron #my brain hurts #I wrote all this and accidently deleted it so this is the second post that I had to rewrite #Im dying #hofas

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bonefall · 4 months

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hi! just discovered this blog from your hearing loss post, which i ADORE. throughout it you mentioned pawspeak, and i was wondering if you had any sources/posts about it, or could describe its fundamentals very simply? sorry if youve already answered this!!! youre very cool

There's not too many fundamentals to share, really! Pawspeak is just the fandom term for a Clan cat sign language. Most people have their own takes on it.

Some people like to make it use two paws, other like to do a single paw in tandem with ear flicks and tail movements, some have omitted paw movements entirely and just use ear and tail signs. Most people aren't my queer ass who worked with a friend to ACTUALLY create a full Clan cat language with its own grammatical structure; so likewise, they're just making a cat approximation of a sign language.

So there's no rules! Do as you please! You can just adapt ASL or BSL for cat paws if you want, the same way no one bats an eye when people animate the cats lipsynching to English.

I would just try to remind you, and recommend, that your sign languages evolve from deaf people.

It's both a misconception, and insultingly common for media to show hearing people inventing sign language for the benefit of their deaf friends and family, when that's not how that happens. Deaf people have agency, theyre not just waiting for an abled person to bestow language on them. Deaf communities, and communities with high rates of hearing impaired people, come up with unique sign languages if they don't already have one!

These languages are often studied by linguists as examples of "isolate" language families, which mean they evolved without ANY genetic 'relation' to another language. Nicaraguan Sign Language is a neat example of that!

(The "hearing people invent sign" thing is perpetuated by the myth that Francosign, the language family containing ASL, was invented by one really nice philanthropist. It wasn't. The man took a bunch of words from an existing deaf community in Paris, which was likely a language under the BANZSL family, didn't care to record or learn what they were ALREADY speaking, and made up his own clunky system called "methodical signs" to make a "signed version" of French. This was practically useless for casual use. Actual deaf people mixed this with the languages they were ALREADY using to talk to each other to make new ones; one famous example of this is actually ASL.)

For BB I actually plan to show Pawspeak evolving as an isolate language after the Clan's move to the Lake. It's going to be born out of Gatherings and Aftergatherings-- while Clan cooperation has actually lead to a period so peaceful that it's allowed a proper community to form. Now with a stable population of hearing-impaired cats of all Clans, each of them bringing new signs and phrases home, it can standardize into a true language around the lake.

So then I can show how most of the signs come from RiverClan, mix with the signals WindClan uses to communicate across the moor, show how violent signs tend to be tail-based because they come from battle commands, etc.

It fits the themes of BB, and gives me a chance to show how fascinating sign languages really are. Even though it'd make sense for them to already have one, tbh, I think it's worth it. (Or maybe have Lake Pawspeak basically be a language that combined the several 'pawspeaks' of the various clans.)

#Stonewing is part of Berry's cats in canon. But I think in BB I need to make him a Heartstar loyalist #Because there's no way he wasn't close with Strike and Dove #Even in canon he was spotted with Strike a lot but in BB I've explicitly made Stone deaf #So Stone Strike and Dove are like a little community in ShadowClan #When the arc is over I'll sit down and sort the Shadow cats into camps. But tbf Heartstar's controversial but VERY popular with supporters #So it could be fun for Stone and his mate to end up on separate sides of that conflict #bone babble #pawspeak

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matan4il · 5 months

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Hello. This is a rather mundane question considering all the things, but I got curious. Does Hebrew have accents? How do they vary in and out of Israel?

I understand if you choose not to reply as this is a difficult time for you. In any case, take care🩷🩷🩷

Hi Nonnie! No, don't worry, all questions that are truly interested in Jewish culture are welcome! ^u^

TBH, something to remember about Hebrew is that it has quite a unique history. To the best of my knowledge, it is the only language that was used on a daily basis as the lived in language of a native population, then "died" as a result of Jews being exiled. As they found themselves in other countries, they had to speak the local language. They didn't abandon Hebrew, but it stopped being the langauge in which they lived their daily lives. Hebrew became the language of prayer, of scripture study, and terms from it bled into the local languages Jews spoke, creating Jewish versions of these languages (Yiddish being the Jewish version of German, Ladino being the Jewish version of Spanish, Yevanik being the Jewish version of Greek, and there are also Jewish versions of Arabic and other languages, too), so Hebrew still had an impact on Jews, and they were still connected to it... but it was no longer a "living" language. It was closer to what Latin is today. A language in which religious ceremonies are conducted, that theologians study, but not a language that anyone conducts their daily life in.

Then, as a part of the project of reclaiming and reviving the Jewish native life in Israel that came to be known as Zionism, people set out to revive our native language, too. There was a realization that it had to be adapted to modern life, give it terms for things that didn't exist 2,000 years ago, so it would be useful for people who wanted to conduct their daily lives in Hebrew again. And that's how the last of the Canaanite languages became the only "dead" language to be revived, and return to be the lived in language of its native people.

I mention this unique history, because modern Hebrew isn't the same as biblical Hebrew (though about 60% of modern Hebrew IS biblical). It means if there were different Hebrew accents during biblical times, we don't know it for sure.

At the same time, the fact that Jews were spread out in the diaspora, and their pronunciation of Hebrew (as a dead language) came to be influenced by the local languages they spoke while in exile. So a Jew who returned to Israel from the diaspora in Germany, a Jew who returned to Israel from the diaspora in Argentina, and a Jew who returned to Israel from the diaspora in Yemen do not have the same accent when speaking Hebrew.

But these are not considered regional accents of Hebrew in the same way that you can find different regional accents of English when traveling across England... If we put aside the accents of Jews returning to Israel, and instead we look at the accents of Jews born in Israel, the ones born into speaking modern Hebrew, there's a myth of a Jerusalem accent. I say myth, because you'll hear all over Israel people swearing, that Jerusalemites pronounce a few words differently. The most common example is the word 'mataim' (which means two hundred), and many Israelis insist Jerusalemites pronounce it ma'ataim, with the first vowel prolonged and emphasized. I have lived in Jerusalem since 2002 and I have never heard it. I think in this sense, regional accents are usually, at least in part, a product of geography. It determines how far apart people live, how much they interact, how much they hear others speaking the same language as they do. The smaller a country, and the easier travel in it is, the fewer accents it's likely to produce. And I think that's the main reason why there aren't really accents in Israel (other than those of people who came to speak Hebrew as a second language), because it's a very small country, and because today, it's pretty easy to travel in it (you can cross it from the most northern point to the most southern one in slightly over 5 hours).

I hope that kind of answers it? Thank you for the kind words, I hope you're well, too! xoxox

#ask #anon ask #israel #hebrew #jewish history #jewish #jew #jews #jumblr #frumblr #native israeli #native history #cultural revival #language revival #native revival

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nezuscribe · 1 year

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𝐩𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬

summary: in a land where marriage is set in stone at birth and love is but a myth, a girl tries her best to navigate the life she's been born into. when her father assigns her own knight, somebody he trusts to look after her in these dangerous times, nobody would have expected the brave young soldier to twist her story with his, taking your life into a spin that was unforeseen by the fates.

pairing: bakugo katsuki x fem!reader

genre: forbidden love, royalty au, strangers to friends to lovers, comfort, mild angst, fluff

warnings: mdni 18+, all characters are aged up, detailed sex, heavy making out, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, a little bit of a hand job, grinding, all the works lmao, mentions of depressive thoughts, nothing too explicit

notes: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

as always, thank you so much @jadeisthirsting for beta reading this and helping me throughout this fic!

mha masterlist

The bazaars of Afrasiab were unlike any other, and they dimmed in comparison to what the mind could imagine. All of the land in Persia held its animosity, a secret that can only be revealed by sight, but the bazaars there were something no tongue could describe and no ear to relay correctly.

They smelled of lamb and beef kabobs, cooked to perfection, began wafting around the carts of fabrics early in the morning. The mountains of spices were perfectly balanced in their own little plates, laying undisrupted until they caught the eye of curious passersby.

Many streets carried deep underground, for when the bazaar needed continuing and couldn’t be held entirely on top, and the hidden passages held wonders unknown to man.

Unfortunately, however, for somebody seeing these bustling markets for the first time, they tended to be confusing to figure out at the least, and nearly impossible to navigate most of the time.

The young woman who traveled closely with his cloak perched over her head tried to wind through the serpentine stalls, keeping his chin close to her chest as she only watched through the corners of her eyes, careful not to bring attention to herself nor the satchel in her hand. It was all so new to her, every sight she was intaking a far cry from what she was accustomed to seeing. The faint cries of the salesman trying to sell his silver tableware or the santur being played somewhere distant was an overload to somebody who was used to the strange serenity the palace offered.

Everything was a sight to behold. She never came to buy something, only to see. She liked the way this place almost had its own separate language, how it awoke at dawn and never seemed to sleep. She loved how the shopkeepers, always respectful of one another in their boundaries, tried their best to outdo one another in favor of better business.

The way someone shouted to gain the attention of somebody, the way they laced their words with enough enthusiasm to keep the shoppers interested was something she never grew tired of. In comparison to the bleak life that was awaiting her when she got back, these little bits of excitement were enough enrichment to keep her going for a little bit longer.

She took it all in, enjoying the opportunity as she doubted it’d be trusted upon her again, and smiled to herself at the mosaics that lined the curved walls, the dim light the candles offered helped her navigate through the underground bazaar. She looked through all the silverware, the plates painted with utmost care.

She looked through and let her fingers graze above the satin fabrics all dyed a different color. The smells of turmeric and saffron flooded her nose, mixing with the occasional whiff of rose, and she felt as though all these things at once were too compelling alone for a human mind.

No stories nor descriptions could have prepared her for what she was going to experience. It was magical, something surely out of a book. Despite that, however, every minute she spent trying to enjoy the sights was another minute that clicked in her mind mentally.

“Oi,” A gruff voice snapped, jolting her rudely out of her ongoing daydream, “Watch it.”

His eyes shined brighter than the pomegranate seeds you were used to seeing every day. His jaw was carved, his body stiff. He was large, unusually so, and the only time you had seen a man of his size and demeanor was a man heading off to war.

Even with the little bits, you could see of him you could tell that he was simply gorgeous, a crude beauty that nature had somehow created out of her own force. Sure, all the men you were used to seeing were either a couple of years older than you (or so old you wondered how they were even living) and snotty, but you knew that this sort was beyond anything. Had he not been waiting so impatiently for you to talk, you wouldn’t have stumbled to get something out.

“Apologies,” You muttered, adjusting your robes again so that they covered your clothing underneath, not wanting anybody to get a quick glimpse of the tunic underneath, glancing up as you gave him an apologetic grin, “I wasn’t paying attention.”

He nodded curtly, seeming to agree with you as his gaze roamed your face, trying to decipher you for whatever reason as he gave a low grunt.

“It’s alright.” His lips pressed into a thin line, moving past you as he readjusted his hood. You opened your mouth, pausing when you watched his lips twitch, looking left and right as you felt your shoulders shrinking in defeat.

But you knew that he had already seen your face, heard you speak. There was no point in hiding yourself from one stranger if he could already identify you based on this encounter. And seeing how you knew it was dark outside, the hours seeming to have slipped quickly through your fingers, and you had no means of getting out, you gave into the one and only rule you had created for yourself.

“Sir!” You called out, watching as he had almost turned his back to leave, watching as he stopped upon hearing you, “I apologize for interrupting, but,” You looked away for a second, your cheeks heating up under his heavy stare, “I seem to be lost. Would you happen to know the way out? Everything seems to twist together here, and I need to go home,” You paused and then added, “Please.” Hoping not to sound too distressed - even if you were - as you waited for him to say something.

The silence felt heavy despite the hustling happening behind you, and you wondered for a second if you had even spoken loudly enough so that he could hear you on top of all the distant shouts and music.

He seemed to search your face once more, maybe looking for signs of trickery or ill intent. But you seemed desperate, at least you know you sounded desperate, and any attempts of trying to fool him would have quickly dissipated under his scornful gaze. Heaven's grace, you thought to yourself, what must a man do for a living to hold such unwavering suspension?

“It’s alright, I’ll-”

“Follow me.” He murmured, cocking his head in the direction he was originally going as he maneuvered his way through the tight bodies, not waiting for you to give any sign of understanding as you quickly scurried after him, trying your best to not get lost in the thick of the crowd. Despite his tall frame, you doubted it’d be difficult to lose sight of somebody in such a congested area.

You kept a keen eye on the back of his hood, never losing sight of it as you managed to wrangle yourself closer to his side. He was surely not the nicest person you’d met all day, but you were thankful nonetheless for his openness to take you someplace without knowing you all that much (aside from you just bumping into him, of course).

“Thank you so much sir I was so incredibly lost and had no idea wh-”

“You’re a maid for the princess, aren’t you?”

You stopped talking, looking up at him with wide eyes, mouth half agape as you almost acted as if you hadn’t heard his words.

“Close your mouth, you’ll attract attention,” He said as he pushed past people, never meeting your shocked eyes once as he expertly moved through the thicker parts of the stalls. Once he looked down at you, seeing that you didn’t listen to what he had just said, his brows creased down the middle, “Are you deaf?” He snapped and your cheeks heated in embarrassment and you begrudgingly obliged.

“I…I don’t know how you reached such a drastic conclusion.” You said through clenched teeth, but you doubted denying anything after your so obvious reaction would help your case. Proving your thoughts right, the man only snorted, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t act daft,” His eyes keenly followed your hands, focusing on your wrist as he clicked his tongue against his teeth, a tsk following shortly after as he looked back up at you, “Gold? I doubt anything other than a servant to the princess or a concubine to a king would be able to afford such a thing. And wearing it to such a leisurely activity? I’d wager good money that you have a heftier bracelet sitting unattended at home.”

Your mouth ran dry as you paused, not believing how he was able to deduce so much in a short matter of seconds, but you guessed that his calculating look wasn’t only for suspicion. He was reading into you much more than you had initially guessed he was.

“Are you a spy?” You asked, your voice hushed though you wanted to bet a hefty amount that nobody other than him would be able to hear.

“Far from it.” He heaved a laugh, looking around every second or so, his eyes darting all over the walls as though he was in search of something. Or maybe as if something was in search of him.

“Then…what are you?”

His eyes fleeted down to you, his lips pursing as they began their curious journey.

“Never mind what I am.” He answered back, his hand wavering above your back as he veered you to the right, saving you from colliding into somebody who came barreling from somewhere you hadn’t even noticed.

“How - how can I trust you won’t harm me?” He laughed again at your naiveté-laced question.

“Had I planned on harming you, I would have done so already,” He made a sharp left turn, “I apologize to be the one to tell you this, but you mustn't be the princess's favorite maid.”

Your brows furrowed, your lip turning downward as you asked him why. There was no point in pretending, or at least to some degree, if he was so willing and correct in reading you.

“Sending you away without any form of security is a clear indication.”

You huffed, looking elsewhere even though he seemed victorious in his statement.

“Stay safe, m’lady.” He said finally, giving you a nod as you stammered to get your thoughts collected.

And you would have pressed him further on how he had such a quick wit, on who exactly he was, and how he had managed to decipher you faster than anybody you had met in your lifetime, but he had brought you to the opening of the bazaar. And before you could even thank the stranger for leading you here, let alone question him on anything else, he had managed to slip back into the crowd. His brown cloak mixed in with everybody else, and no matter how hard you craned your neck, it was as though you were searching for a lost shell in the ocean.

—

“Y/n!”

Damn it.

You winced at the shrill shriek as you felt your entire body tense up at the sound. You were so close, too. Just a couple feet in front of those double doors and you would have been safely shielded away from the wandering eyes of the palace.

“...Yes?” You slowly said as you turned around, scurrying off to take your robes off, the royal garments underneath beginning to bleed through as you tried to hide the evidence behind your back, but to no avail.

Roshanak, though she was far cry from her namesake, trotted up to you, snatching the tattered clothes out of your hands as her nose flared.

Her face was red, beet red, as she looked back at you, seething. Her dark brown curls were tucked away under a loose scarf, peeking through as they fell into her face. Although her eyes were usually calm, warm in tone, and relaxing to look into, they looked almost molten right now. The crow's feet at the corner of her eyes tugged upwards as she raised her eyebrows.

The rose petal she had patted across her lips and cheeks in the morning was almost gone now, but the little bit remaining seemed to only add more color to her already heating face. Had this not been a recurring thing you would have been terrified, but, alas, you only looked away in vexation.

“You were out. Again.” It wasn’t a question more than a statement.

You nodded slowly, angry at yourself that you got caught, clutching your hands together as you felt your head sink in regret. No matter how many times you ventured out of the palace walls, they always seemed to come back to find you, hiding you away when you were fingertips away from knowing the true world. A real shame, you always told yourself, to have land dedicated to your family, yet never know what it truly holds.

“Y/n…why?” Had she not taken care of you for the twenty years she had, you would have guessed she was your mother. She could have acted the part. That you were sure of. You opened your mouth to speak, but she didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself. Though, it’s not like your reasoning had changed all that much.

“The last time - okay - I forgave you. And the time before that, too! But you are pushing the limits, Y/n. You cannot keep expecting me to keep this a secret forever, can you?” Which directly translated to: you can’t expect your father to not find out, right?

“Roshanak-”

“No,” She cut you off, shaking her head as she held onto your cloak tightly, wrinkles forming in their presence as she shakes her head fiercely, her brown eyes scorching unlike never before as she raises a finger to pause you, “No more guilt tripping me. I am only so much of a person to be taken advantage of.”

“But-”

“No! You listen to me,” She snapped, “This is a dangerous game you’re playing. Sneaking out? Without notifying anybody? How can I know you’ll come back? How should I report to your father that his daughter has slipped out and is now missing? On my watch? And what if somebody saw you and recognized you - then what do I do?”

“I-”

“Quiet!” You shrunk at her curt and furious yell, sore fire burning in your eyes, shaming its way across your face as you tried not to yell. A proper woman never yelled. Never in the middle of a hallway, at least, “God help me,” She muttered, her eyes looking up like she was trying to find Him within the ceiling, “Y/n, what will I do with you? All these years for nothing? How am I supposed to make you ready to be wed when-”

“I don’t want to be wed!”

Roshanak almost dramatically gasped, looking wildly around, hoping that nobody had heard your outburst, she went to snap back again but you didn’t let her, “I hope, Roshanak, I pray that every time I go out, that every time I leave this godforsaken place, that somebody recognizes me-”

“Y/n, stop this-” She tried to warn you but you continued.

“That they know me and they hate me. So that if they do something, if they hurt me, kill me-”

“Y/n!” She yelled, no longer caring about how loud she was because you didn’t seem to care either.

“That at least I wouldn’t be shamed to my grave for doing it myself!”

She choked out a cough, her eyes wide as your lips trembled, your chest heaving up and down as you tried to control yourself after your outburst. Your cheeks were wet with tears, gods, you weren’t ever going to get out of that habit, were you? And your hands were shaking, and it seemed like your lungs were contracting up and down, up and down. It wasn’t the first time you had planned on saying these exact words, but damn you, this was the first time you said it out loud.

What had set you off? You wondered aimlessly to yourself. Had it been the awful morning full of your father listing off potential suitors? The way the stranger at the bazaar had completely seen right through you, or the insurance of the people around you on pretending as though you no longer were a person but a mere vessel for carrying out their decade-old plans?

“Y/n! Roshanak!” A third party interrupted the heavy air that sat in the middle of your two bodies, cutting through everything that was left unsaid as both of your attention went to something at the end of the hall. Roshanak gave you a single look, one that simply told you that she was undoubtedly not done with the conversation, as she turned to give her customary bows to the king. You quickly made do with wiping at your cheeks hiding any remnants of what had just perspired from the awaiting eyes that were soon to come as you wiped at your nose with the bottom of your sleeve.

“Shāhanshāh,” She muttered the words of respect to the king, bowing her head down so low to the ground that you wondered if her lips were brushing upon the cold stone.

“Baba,” You said through clenched teeth, your own complimentary greeting to the king as he gave you a warm smile. If only he knew what you were screaming about moments ago, that smile on his lips would surely have fallen by now.

“Y/n,” He said adoringly, his beard bristling upwards as his smile grew upon seeing your face, “I have exciting news. You will - Roshanak,” He paused, his eyes falling upon her clenched fist, “What is that you have in your hands?”

If she was startled, she did well at hiding it.

“Oh…just some tattered clothes one of my girls didn’t need anymore. I was just about to throw it away. My king,” She gave him a swift nod, and you felt your heart rate slow down a bit at her lie, thankful that she was still aware enough not to tell him the truth right now, “Princess.” She gave you one too, her eyes never leaving yours as she swiftly left, leaving you and your father alone to have some privacy.

He smiled warmly, giving her a nod in return as her figure retreated from view, her pattering footsteps no longer echoing across the walls as your father turned back to you, his kingly robes fallen behind him in a cascade of beautiful crimson as his smile grew once again.

“As I was saying, you will be having some new company.”

You felt your eyes squint in confusion, lips curling to the sides as you began profusely shaking your head. Gods, not another suitor, please, anything but another prince ready to pounce on you.

“But Baba,” You tried to keep the wavering of your voice to a minimum, knowing that after this long day it sounded anything but confident, “I don’t need new company. I have Roshanak and the girls, they fill up my time plenty. And I’m still deciding between the Prince of Tehran and the Crown Prince of Persepolis. I…” He held up a hand, cutting your rambling off with a knowing grin. Had you not known any better he looked more like a bazaar salesman rather than a king - too jovial for the position.

“It’s not a new servant - nor a swain, collect yourself.” He snapped at you, his voice commanding and suddenly mirroring a king’s rather than a father's.

“I’ve noticed that some tension has been building up between some cities near us, nothing to worry about,” He assured but tensions between cities were always something you worried about, “But I felt as though there is a significant lack of guards in the palace, at least, guards that serve to protect you.” He grinned, already trying to get you to see where he was going but all you were getting at was bewilderment.

“And this means…?”

“That you will be having your own guard now. Not one that stands outside our door, but one who accompanies you wherever you go.”

If there was a prize for having the worst way of delivering news, your father would surely have won it a couple of years ago.

“I,” You paused, rubbing your aching forehead as you practically felt an aching forming, “Baba, this isn’t the most promising idea-”

“Of course it is!” He clamored, clasping his hands together as his rings clinked together, “You need protection in this growing political climate. And anyway, I’ve only picked the best of the best. In fact,” He looked behind him, but you already felt as though you knew where this was starting to lead to, “He’s here-”

“He’s here?” You exclaimed, trying to keep your whisper-yell down to a minimum but you didn’t know how much the echo traveled.

“Yes, azizam, he’s here. Katsuki,” He yelled out, the shout bouncing off the high arches as you winced at the volume, “Come out!”

Before you could even disagree with this idea, that you were only wearing your simple robes and not made up for company, you could hear the loud thumps of leather shoes upon stone, clothes ruffling together as a shadow began to form of the man who your father seemed more than enthusiastic to show off to you. Almost as if he had just won an irreplaceable accolade for his daughter.

You couldn’t conceal the little cough of shock you let out when the man came into view, your father sending you a confused glance as you apologized under your breath, covering your mouth with your hands as you felt the blood drain from your face.

The man, the very one you had seen in the bazaar, was just a few feet in front of you.

He looked much different, though. Those robes had been ditched and instead, the bright red of the palace colors shined bright on his tunic. His hair was completely out, and you could see how it resembled the color of hay and straw. His frame, which had seemed so intimidating before, was clear to you now; tall and slender yet muscular, something that all knights should be. You could tell easily that his long legs allowed him to be agile when he wanted to, but his sturdy arms were perfect for carrying a weapon. You could even notice how his sword was tucked away in the sheathe, but it was noticeable, it should have been. Everything about him reeked of contained power, and you wondered how such changes could have altered his appearance so much.

And though he tried to hide his stupefaction, agreeably better than you had, nothing could have concealed the way his eyes widened momentarily, blazing a bright red as the gold bracelet he had mistakenly identified as a simple token for a maid shined brightly in the flickering candlelight from the hallway.

“He’s ranked the highest-ranking soldier in our military. I’ve seen him in action, too,” Your father slapped his back in a proud gesture, “And I’ve spent time with him to know that he’s a suitable man for protecting you.”

You’d heard of him, how could you not have? Every story and rumor that seemed to slip from the noble mouths were either of the scandalous escapades of people ranked in your circle, or of the young knight who seemed to have stumped the Greek army with a single slash of his sword. The Greeks called him the rival of Achilles, a man who wielded the bow and arrow better than Apollo and the soldier who slain an entire army. The people around you just referred to him as the Savior of Persia.

“You're too kind, my liege.” He muttered in thanks, his cheeks glowing a dusted pink as he continued to bow down out of respect.

You swallowed thickly, watching as the man held his head down in respect. But you could see that his gaze flickered to yours, his brows scrunched up so that there were three lines down the middle as he put the pieces quickly together.

“Princess,” He bid his respectful greetings, despite the fact that you two had already met hours ago. His low voice rattled deep inside your head, and you could only pray that he was a man that kept quiet, on top of all his other achievements.

You watched as he reached for your hand, his larger ones almost enveloping yours. His fingers were large yet gentle as they held your hand, the calluses on your palm a stark comparison to the soft and manicured nails you had, a clear difference of class. And you watched as he brought it up to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss on the back of them to let it go, properly though, so that you didn’t get offended. You felt a lingering blaze where his lips had just been, and you wished you could have brought your hand up to the light to see if he had done any sort of magic to it.

Your father tensed his neck as he stared at you, waiting for you to do your own greetings as you stammered, sending him an apologetic glance as you looked at the man.

“Sir,” You ducked your down, hoping that not only would it seem more different, but it might do good in hiding the true sentiments you might have given away had you looked him dead-on, “I’m honored.”

He nodded, and your father seemed pleased with your words because his displeased look was quickly wiped off of his face as he grinned boastfully.

“The honor is all mine, princess,” The man stood up, his eyes focused on you, a thousand tales swimming behind their crimson color as he bowed his head down to you, crossing his arm over his chest, covering his heart, pledging to you, “I am here to serve and protect you. Anything you need, please let me know.”

And with that, your night shifted. No, perhaps not even that single night. After that, it seemed that your entire world began to spin in the opposite direction.

—

The palace was soon awakened from its slumber, it seemed, as it became buzzed with the news of a new knight. Especially one as venerated (and captivating) as he was. All your handmaidens could talk about for the past several weeks, more or less squeal, was how they were going to try to swoon him. But every time you snickered, knowing their little bursts of excitement were clearly heard by the man right outside your door.

And you knew you were being petty, looking away in annoyance whenever one of you girls went up to him with a dopey smile on their face, they had the opportunity to. Of course, they’d be scorned for it later, but their punishment was to do more laundry and spend less time socializing with her friends. Your liberties of choosing had been signed off for you ever since you were born, and ever since then, they’ve been growing thinner and thinner.

Your knight didn’t say a lot of things, especially not about your first interaction with each other, and for that, you were appreciative. Honestly, you could have listed off all the time you two had spoken on two hands and had some fingers remaining.

You couldn’t imagine having somebody by your side every hour of the day and talking erratically at all times. If anything, he was stoic. He didn’t say anything unless spoken to or unless absolutely necessary, and sometimes you wondered if he too was growing tired of these stone walls and the archways. There is only so much of the palace that can be seen until it all grows repetitive.

“He doesn’t talk much, does he?” Roya exclaimed, one day as she dotted roses all over your neck and wrists. You giggled at her exasperation, and with the way all the other girls seemed to, unfortunately, agree with her.

“No,” Laleh said with a heaving sigh, delicately setting the necklace down upon your neck as she angled it looking at the mirror, “He doesn’t.” She seemed to wilt at the words, her smile shrunken seeing how she was so used to men dropping at their feet for her.

“Come on,” You said, still trying to control your laughter, patting their arms as they looked down at you, “I doubt this is the end of the world, or as you’re trying to make it out to be.” Roya let out a groan and Laleh hurriedly nodded her head in agreement with Roya’s response.

“But it is! He’s so decorated!-”

“And handsome… he is so incredibly handsome…” Laleh said dreamily as she interrupted Roya, giving her an apologetic smile as she continued.

“He can protect and fight - I’ve heard he’s the best fighter in all of Persia. They say that his strength rivals Darius, maybe even stronger. And he can read incredibly well too; all the tales of the Shahnameh, he’s had them all memorized! Y/n, he’s better than any of the princes and nobles this land has to offer. Having him as a suitor, well, having him as a suitor would only be but the best thing to happen to a woman- '' She droned off as she saw your smile fall a bit, “Well, a woman of our status. You, however, my princess, deserve a prince!” Though she was quick to recover, it didn’t cover the fact that she was right.

“Yes…a prince.” You muttered, spitting the last word out as you balanced your chin on the palm of your hand and dejectedly sulked. The last one you had seen, merely a week ago, had been insistent on seeing you dance for him. He was turned away immediately. And the one before him had tried to sneak his hand up your skirt, but Katsuki had quickly slapped his hand away, giving the man a welt and a large bruise that set him weeping the entire horse ride home.

It seemed that once a man was bestowed the title of prince he no longer remembered what it was like to act human. As if every normal thing he had done once before was cast away and his only intention in life was now to torment women into marrying him.

“Maybe this one’s better!” Laleh said, trying to cheer you up as she angrily swatted at Roya’s arm.

Yes, maybe this one was better. But given your luck these past few months, the man you were going to meet today was anything but a man. Maybe even worse.

“Yes, in fact, last night I prayed that he would be!” Roya said, and although it might not have been taken as a joke, it did its part in making you smile a bit, giving them both a weak and pitiful laugh as you secured the bracelet around your wrists.

Laleh finished the remaining bits of your dress, tightening up the back as she dusted it off, careful that the ruby color shined at any angle, that you looked radiating at any possible angle.

You eyed the window, the sun right in the middle of the horizon, a sign of noon. You gave them both a thankful smile, one that didn’t quite meet your gaze as you patted them both on the shoulders.

“Khoshgelam,” Beautiful, Roya muttered with pride, giving you a tender smile as you ducked your head down in embarrassment, never used to the kind words they muttered before you were sent in to meet a prince, knowing that some of them were really only to help you get through the day.

“Tashakor,” Thank you, “Roya, Laleh.” You gave them each a small nod, “And perhaps you are correct, maybe this one is better than all the ones before.” They both nodded with excitement, something that will surely be ruined in a couple of hours for now as they led you to the door, opening it for you as you gave their hands a tight squeeze.

You were met with the big back of the guard, watching as he turned around at the noise, his eyes falling upon yours as the two girls behind you practically swooned once again. He was gorgeous.

“Princess, are you ready?” He grunted out and you nodded, giving the two girls your final look of desperation as they waved you off, watching as your two figures retreated in the dark hallway, your footsteps dimming down until they could no longer see you.

The two of you walked in silence, just as you had always done, as you stared at your hands. It was exhausting to have to find somebody who was humanly decent. Everybody you had met so far was horrible, and though you were trying your best to be optimistic, the rumors surrounding the man you were about to meet were only adding more to your growing trepidation.

The man beside you never said a word, and you didn’t expect him to. But right now, you knew that if there was somebody who knew at least something more than just gossip about this potential suitor, it would be Katsuki.

“You know Saum, no?”

It had been the first time you had asked him a question, especially so randomly, and he almost stopped as he tried to understand what had just happened. You hadn’t uttered more than a couple of words to him these past few weeks he had been serving you, so this question you had asked so suddenly made him almost think he had gone insane. But looking down at you to find your curious eyes searching for him, he cleared his throat, getting ready to respond.

“I know of him, princess.” He said gruffly and you nodded weakly, your eyes never leaving the end of the hallway, your dress dragging behind you as you tried to calm your breathing down. You could only do this routine so many times before it mentally got to you.

“What do you know of him?” You questioned, looking up at his face to see in momentarily scrunch up he could have seen the horror that flashed across your eyes at his questionable reaction because he was quick to regain his composure.

“He’s a naval officer.” He said, which is something that you already knew. You scoffed in mock annoyance, rolling your eyes as you shook your head, dissatisfied with his bleak answer.

“Anything else?” You pressed, watching as he scratched his chin, obviously trying to hold back on saying something.

“That’s all I know of, princess.”

You rolled your eyes again, huffing as you realized you could never get anywhere with this man. He always referred to you by your title, gave responses no longer than ten words long, and filled the awkward silence with his even quieter demeanor.

“You’re lying to me.”

He paused, his eyes wide with shock as his mouth parted and he closed it.

“I would never lie to you, princess.” He retaliated quickly, and had he not been the towering brute that he is, you would have thought the reaction had come from a child who was indeed caught in the act of lying.

“Then why do you try to hide something? You must surely know something about him to not be saying anything.” He knew he was horrible at hiding the truth, he was raised to always be transparent.

“I,” He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sucked on his bottom lip, debating whether or not to continue this conversation. But one look at the pleading look that was laced all over your features and he gave in, knowing that you were desperate after so many failed attempts with the failures that had the nerve to call themselves a prince, “I’ve only heard stories, princess, and I don’t know which ones hold more truth.” He paused.

“Which is…?”

The knight sighed once more, showing more emotion than you’ve ever seen him display as he looked away, anywhere but your awaiting eyes that held so much worry and fright that it reminded him of a lamb being sent to slaughter.

“It’s merely a rumor, princess, so don’t base your judgment on him simply on my words. But,” He winced, his hard gaze breaking for a second as he breathed heavily out his nose, “I had overheard some of my men talking a while ago that he’s an arrogant prince, but,” He looked down for a second before he looked back up at you, a ghost of a smile on his face as you felt yourself ease a little bit at the strangely welcoming sight, “I doubt there has ever been a humble prince.”

You laughed softly, the sound was something that made his barely visible smile grow even more. The tension he could easily see in your shoulders lessened just a tad bit. You said nothing as you waited for him to continue.

“He’s a womanizer, or at least he tries to be,” You giggled at that too, something you were quite used to at this point, “And according to whispers, he doesn’t have the best table manners.”

You pretended to be shocked, even letting out a dramatic gasp as you covered up your mouth.

“He’s sloppy?”

“Disgustingly so, I’m afraid.”

Your smile grew even more at his words, a loud and unlikely laugh falling from your lips as even you seemed shocked at your unexpected outburst. Your fingers stopped their anxious tapping on your forearms as you felt the tension that had been prickling its way through your chest stop, the fear that you had felt these past few hours diminishing as the knight beside you chuckled deeply.

“I feared that might be the case,” You confessed to him, “Thank you, though,” You said as you looked up at him, meeting his gaze as you cracked a little grin, “You've been the first to openly tell me that.” He gave you a small nod in return, pausing as you stopped in front of the large double doors, where the prince was waiting just behind them.

You took a deep breath, feeling as though some of that dread was starting to come back.

“Must I go?” You stalled, your hands lingering above the wood of the door as you glanced over at him. In these three minutes you had been able to talk to him more than you had in the past weeks you had known him, and strangely so, he had been able to tell you more about the man you were about to meet than anybody else had in that short amount of time.

“Yes, princess.” He told you and you scoffed in pity for yourself, tracing the delicate patterns etched into the wood as he spoke again.

“Don’t fret too much about him however, he’s not as strong as he boasts he is. And… princess?” He called out, his voice a little louder so that it caught your attention before you entered the dining hall, “If anything were to happen, I am there to serve you.”

And though it was in his duty, something he was sworn in to say to you, that was the first time in your twenty years of living that you had actually felt safe. Call it guilelessness or the fake hope you held that somebody truly seemed to care, but that was the day that you acknowledged that your father, for once in his life, had made a good decision in making him your knight.

—-

It seemed that after that night (and no, Saum indeed was not the perfect match), the distance between you and Katsuki had significantly shortened. And while it was still difficult to get him to open up and talk, it seemed that the more you pressed him about random topics the more lenient he got with you.

This change was so apparent, even, that others started to notice too. You could pick up on the servants and their loud whispers whenever you and Katsuki would be walking around the hallways - him accompanying you to make sure you didn’t try to do anything outlandish - and gossiped about the way you two stood significantly closer to each other than was deemed socially appropriate.

And sure, maybe they were right in some aspects. For one, you don’t know why a part of you ignited in unknown flames when you saw him smiling the smile he only reserved for you when he talked to a maid you had never seen before, that was something that even you knew was wrong to feel. And you couldn’t forget the time, no matter how much you ached when you saw him whispering sweet nothings into the ear of another girl, his eyes falling upon yours as he quickly moved away from her, his cheeks dusted in a deep pink as he apologized profusely. You hate how you reveled in your pathetic glory when he came up to you afterward, steering you away from the scene with a hand barely apparent on your back, profusely apologizing for acting so unprofessional.

So, you let them gossip. You could have shut it down sooner, but in all honesty, you liked what they had to say. Sometimes, when they spoke of him, you couldn’t help but wonder if their words for once held any truth. Did he actually stare longingly at you whenever there was a feast, watching with fire in his eyes when a prince or nobleman tried to woo you into a conversation? No, surely not. And did he only laugh full heartedly when he was with you, a sight nobody else had the grave of seeing? No, no, of course not. Surely you couldn’t be that funny.

“‘Suki,” You said one day, the name you had now given him freely flowing off your tongue as you two walked in the rose garden, “I have a request.”

He ducked his head down, the sun making his hair almost seem like gold as he walked with his hands behind his back. This is where you thought him to be the most regal, his most beautiful state of being. The wind flowed through his hair, the strands moving east, his face not as stiff as it usually was. The royal red tunic and trousers sat comfortably on his toned skin, hugging him in a way that made you feel terrible for lusting after it as much as you did. In this carefree environment, he no longer embedded a knight, but a person who you could look up to as a friend.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You sighed in fake irritation at the title, telling him many times to just refer to you as everybody else in your inner circle did, but he always stuck to the formalities. You understood why he didn’t want to cross over any lines, but it made getting to know him better that much more difficult.

“Take me to the bazaar.”

“Ah, that, princess,” He grunted, giving you a stern and unwavering look, “I cannot do.”

“But you said anything!” You clamored, your voice still not loud to raise attention, as a pout formed on your lips as you huffed again, your arms crossing across your chest as you continued to walk. You let your left hand glide across the flowers, delicate as to not harm any of the petals.

“Princess,” He tried to bargain, handsome face pulled into a set frown as he tried to get you to look at him, “The bazaar is too perilous of risk to take. I can never plan a single thing when I have no idea who or what I’m going to endure.”

Your frown grew at his words, even though you knew what he was trying to say, and stopped at the pomegranate tree as he stopped with you, his sword thumping against his thigh as his shadow cascaded over the red fruit.

“But I’ve been there before….” You miserably muttered, hearing him let out a snort as he crossed his arms across his chest, shaking his head at the thought.

“And I don't know how you never got caught,” He admitted, trying to sound tough and rigid but a little chuckle escaped his lips, “It’s a great deal of danger if you put yourself in, princess; going there with no guards, telling nobody where you were.”

You plucked a ripe pomegranate off, holding it up in the sun as you took in its deep crimson shade, turning it around as you felt its smooth texture underneath your fingers. It was a favorite of yours, and you had requested a while ago to have a whole section of the gardens dedicated to the fruit.

You dug your thumbs into it, groaning a little as you tried to crack it open but to no avail. Wordlessly, he extended his hand out to you, a noiseless exchange as you placed the pomegranate in his hands, turning around to watch him as he snapped it open with no difficulty, no strain seen on his face as he held the two halves back out to you.

The ruby seeds glistened, and you plucked a few out, munching on them as the crunch of the seeds filled the silence.

“Tashakor,” You muttered with your mouth full of the fruit, smiling a little bit at the tart and sweet taste of them. He gave you a small nod, eyeing the fruit as your fingers became stained with the red juice of the pomegranate, walking alongside you as you carelessly ate.

“Would you like some?” You offered, holding out the half you hadn't touched yet as he quickly shook his head with târof, the complimentary way of refusing something out of politeness. You smile to yourself at his little action.

“Oh, come on, it’s good. Really good.” You obliged, holding it out further to him as you waved the half around, trying to tempt him. Although he was a man of honor and sound reason, refusing something from a royal more than once was unforeseen and rather unsophisticated. So he sighed, giving up as he gently plucked the fruit out of your hand, muttering a quiet thanks as your smile grew wider.

“Is it to your liking?” You said, your words muffled as you tried not to talk and chew at the same time.

“Extraordinarily so.” He said, chewing thoughtfully as his lips became stained red the more he ate. You tried to look away as you felt your cheeks heating up at the sight.

“So…‘Suki,” You said, your elbows purposely bumping into him as you smiled a little bit to yourself, the cool breeze of the upcoming winter biting eagerly at your skin. You swallowed a couple of seeds as you looked at him, “No bazaar?”

“No bazaar.” He repeated, though his focus was intently on getting a couple of the ruby seeds out.

“And no hunting?”

He grunted out a coarse laugh, his face looking nonchalant as he shook his head again.

“I wasn’t aware you were appreciative of the sport.” He notes, glancing over at you as you shrugged, your fingers mindlessly running across the bumpy seeds as you let out a longing sigh.

“I’m appreciative of anything that gets me out of here.” The words tumbled out of your mouth, your eyes drooping a bit as your steps became slower. The times you spent in the gardens, depressingly so, was the only excitement you seemed to have in your day.

His smile fell at your statement, watching the way you seemed to shrink in on yourself.

He was good at noticing things, it was something he took pride in. But by the time he had gotten to know you, the princess who lived the lavish life everybody told him about, only seemed to be a myth. Sure, your bed was warm and your maids ready at your beck and call, but behind the jewels and glamor of royal life, your face held a different story. Early on, he took note of the way your smile never reached your eyes. Your laugh never reached more than an octave in pitch, and you always seemed to be wary of the people around you. Everything you did seemed to be done as if walking on eggshells, and if this was the life everybody said was perfection, he didn’t see any point in wanting to live in it.

Which is why, after a couple of interactions, he felt a part of him soften when it came to you. You were thoughtful in places most people would have grown senseless. You never lost your humanity, nor your compassion when it came to both people you knew and strangers you’ve never met. He observed silently how you would talk to people, your voice laced with care as you gave them every bit of attention. He notices how you’d always save a plate full of traits for him, always managing to find where he was, no matter how dense the crowd of people was, as you delivered it to him with a smile, stating; “you looked grumpy, though this might help.”

“As much as I’d like to take you hunting over the bazaar, I doubt your father would be too fond of the idea,” Katsuki admitted solemnly and you nodded bitterly in agreement, stopping in your tracks as you continued to look forward.

You took in a deep breath, your hands clasped together as a troubled look seemed to overtake your features. He waited patiently for you to gather your thoughts, not saying anything as you gnawed on your bottom lip, seemingly going back and forth between a thousand ideas all at once.

“Katsuki…?” Your voice was faint, barely there, almost swept away by the breeze as you stopped, not saying anything else. You let the seconds tick by until you heard him let out a deep hum, the sound acknowledging that he had heard you.

There were only so many times you called him by his first name: in front of others, an intimidation tactic used to scare a potential suitor, or when you were so timid to talk that you needed to ground yourself down by conceding mainly to yourself that he was there beside you.

“What if I,” You paused again, swallowing your words as you glanced over at him, your eyes quickly fleeting away under his heavy gaze as your fingers gripped tightly onto the fabric of your skirt, the silk wrinkling under your ministrations as your lips trembled, “What would you do if I ran away?”

He could feel his stomach churn uncomfortably at your words, his brows creasing and eyes squinting in your direction as you refused to look him in the eyes. You were notorious for asking spontaneous questions, questions that had nothing to do with a conversation, but he’d be a fool if he disregarded this as just one of your usual queries.

“Then I’d come to find you, princess.” It wasn’t a warning, nor was it something he said to try and scare you. It was the bare truth and something that the two of you knew was something he’d never rest until he fulfilled it.

“You wouldn’t help me?” You questioned, your words soft and fragile as you searched for anything in his gaze that gave away from his usual, stoic expression.

“I’m here to serve and protect you, princess, not to aid you in doing such a thing.”

Your hopeful expression fell, turning cold and void as you scoffed, hating yourself for thinking that he’d ever agree to such a thing. He was a knight before anything else, not a friend and most certainly not a caring companion. Gods, you were so foolish to think that he’d even entertain the idea. Why would he? Everything he’s been put to do was to go against that very idea. No matter how much he may have cared about you as a person didn’t expel him from allowing you to do that.

No matter how much you pretended that underneath all his cold exterior was a person who cared, you knew that deep down, he was a man of honor and of valor. And caring for people beyond necessity was something he wasn’t made to do.

And, to a high degree, you knew you were being petty. Maybe even obnoxious as you stormed off. But was it so wishful to hope that you had finally made a friend? Someone who you could trust enough to help you escape a life you wished you had never been into? Maybe so, but you were always the dreamer and you never knew when to stop.

“Right, right,” You mumbled, shaking your head as you hurried away, hearing his footsteps behind you as he tried to match your pace, “Stupid, stupid, why would he? Of course not,” You said to yourself, throwing the empty pomegranate shell on the soil as you turned over to look at him, putting on a fake smile that both of you knew was empty as you told him; “Please don’t mention what I told you to anybody else. And…please don’t come after me. I pray you have enough confidence in me to know that I’d be able to find the way to my room by myself.”

“But princess-” He started but you shook your head, already turning around as you scoff angrily to yourself, more in annoyance than anything else,

“If only he didn’t steer a ship on top of everything else he could do - then I’d sail my way out of this miserable place.”

—-

Late when the months turned frigid and white littered the ground, you decided that with help or no help, you were going to leave. You didn’t know if you wanted to go north or south, where was the most suitable option for you, all you knew was that you needed out.

It stung a part of you, a part that you didn’t want to admit was there, at his blatant rejection of your proposal. You had hoped that some part of him was open to the idea, that maybe after seeing what the real treatment was like behind these palace walls he’d bend a little bit more to your wishful thinking, but you knew that being hung up on the idea would only hinder you more.

You decided early on in your plan that there was only one night you could do it, shab-e yaldā, the night of the winter solstice. It was extraordinarily risky, you knew that. The palace was going to be swarming with guests, all celebrating the longest night of the year, but you knew that this prolonged night of darkness would be the only one that would hide you enough from the prying eyes of the outside world longer than any other night could.

Weeks leading up to your makeshift plan, you began to take things you decided you would need in your journey. Cold clothes that would protect you against the harsh winters the north held, gold coins that were acceptable anywhere, and food that wasn’t perishable in a few weeks' time. You stuffed them all in a saddle bag you had managed to find in the stable once, one that was large enough to hold all of the things you needed, and did well in hiding it whenever Roya or Laleh came into your room.

You tried to distance yourself from Katsuki as much as possible, only speaking to him when necessary, avoiding any attempts he made at conversation with a curt Sorry, I’m late to my meeting with the prince, or some other pathetic lie to steer away from him. You knew deep down that what you were doing was unfair to him, after all, he was only proving to do his job, but you couldn’t help that vine of anger tangle around your heart and mind until it told you directly what to do.

He seemed to get the memorandum after some time, no longer attempting to make jokes to bring a smile to your face, and not letting his hand linger on your back or arm whenever he tried to steer you towards or away from something. And you were fine with that, more than fine, it was only going to sting less when you left, knowing you’d most likely never be able to see him again. You’d take the hurt now rather than have it wrangle your mind for years to come.

So, when the longest night of winter came, you were ready for any and all problems that were going to come your way.

You let Laleh and Roya do your makeup and get you prepared as they usually would, not wanting to startle them and say you’d do it yourself. You had mapped out what hallways and exits to take, and places that had the least amount of people and guards. You had written a note that you’d be putting on your bed, explaining what you had done in brief detail and that if they were to send anybody, they’d never be able to find you (in hindsight).

You told the two girls to leave, that you had a couple of things you needed to finish before you came down. You made them promise you that they’d tell Katsuki not to lead you to the dining hall, that you’d be wanting to walk unaccompanied. If they had any questions, they didn’t voice them.

The music was already beginning to drift upwards to your room, the loud shouts and laughter from visitors all over the land creating an ambiance that you knew you were going to miss. But you shook your head at the thought, not wanting to go off track when you were so close to freedom.

You quickly got out of the dress they had so carefully put you into, hanging it up as you scrub at your face with water, taking any remnants of makeup off as you tried to look as inconspicuous as possible. Your mind wandered off, without you knowing it, to the first time you had unknowingly met Katsuki and what he had told you. How he had so expertly pointed out your gold bracelet and had been able to set you apart from everybody else in the bazaar. So you did well in taking any and all of your jewelry off, shedding anything that had to do with your royal title, and leaving them off at your nightstand.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly, your bag was packed to the brim, and you had found a robe and shawl that did an excellent job of hiding your face. You glanced one last time at your room, the only place you really knew, and felt like it was now or never. So with your hand on the doorknob turning it down and getting ready to leave, you did so with a determined look on your face.

That was until you realized that your knight was there waiting for you.

The air seemed to pause as the two of you stared at each other. The only thing you could hear was the rapidness in which you breathed, how you felt like everything was slowly falling down on you as you felt the tears slowly making their way to your eyes.

The two of you paused, your heart falling straight to the ground, melting into the cold stone as your eyes widened. Katsuki tried to hide the look of confusion on his face, noting your strange attire and the bag on your back as he swallowed, his eyes squinting in confusion as he tilted his head to the side. Curse him, you thought to yourself, curse him and his loyalty, curse him for looking the way he did, his soft lips pulled into a worried frown, his eyes holding onto yours as if he couldn’t let go, curse him for caring the way that he did.

“Where are you…?” He trailed off, his red eyes widening as, just like always, he began to quickly put the pieces together.

You knew you could have run, the was an opening between the two of you, but you also knew it was stupid because he could have easily caught you in a matter of seconds. So instead of bolting, which is what you so desperately wanted to do, you fell back into your room, your hands shaking as your knees gave out from behind you, your back hitting the wall as you sunk all the way down to the floor, cradling your knees into your chest as you wept.

The door was quickly shut and you heard the typical thump of his footsteps, but you didn’t have the energy to look up to see the irate and aggrieved look on his familiar face.

“Please, princess, don’t cry,” You heard a muted thud as he fell to his knees in front of you, his voice laced with clear, unrivaled panic as he tried to figure out what was wrong, why you looked so defeated, a sight unlike anything he had ever seen before, “Please, Y/n, tell me what I’ve done wrong - what can I do to help?”

And you don’t know what it was if it had been his words or the way you had missed him so terribly that made you cry even more, your tears running rampant you hid your face in the crook of your elbow to save the last shred of dignity you had.

He had to have known by now; the empty feel of your room, the packed bag on your bag, the dirty robe you were wearing. He knew, but he didn’t mention it. He let his hands waver above your elbows, fearing that if he set them down you’d crack, even more, not wanting to do anything to hurt you as he tried to coax you to just look at him.

“Come on Y/n, please, look up, tell me what I need to do.” He begged, his voice was unlike anything you had ever heard from him before.

You need to let me leave, you wanted to plead, please let me go and never mention it to anybody else.

Slowly, you felt the warmth of his hand grip your elbow, gradually moving up as his fingers tried to find your face, wet with tears, as he gingerly cupped your cheeks, pulling you upwards so that he could finally see you again.

You obliged, knowing you couldn’t fight him for long, especially in your state, and you were met with his gentle smile, the one that always made you melt at the sight. Right now, you just sniffle, your eyes red, maybe even redder than his as you cried.

“Hi sweetheart,” He whispered, his thumb running across your cheek, catching a cheer as he cradled the back of your head, gentle in his movements as he tried to rearrange his sitting in a more comfortable position, “Please…please don’t cry,” His eyes followed the tears tracks burned into your skin, “Tell me how I can help, what do I need to do to make it better?”

You scoffed, a wet and emotionless laugh bubbling out of your throat as you wiped away at your nose, looking to the side to avoid his searing gaze. It was treacherous in trying to avoid him for as long as you had, and you knew that if you were to give in to how you truly felt, you couldn’t push him away any longer. And you knew that by doing so you were only digging a deeper hole for yourself.

“Y/n,” Your name sounded so sweet on his tongue, so fragile and delicate, unlike anybody had said it ever before, “Aziz, please, look at me.”

And you looked back up at him from underneath your lashes, your lips trembling as you tried your best to hold back sobs, little hiccups escaping your lips as his thumb ran up and down your cheek, cradling your jaw with the most care in the world. As if you were a shooting star and he never wanted to let you go again.

“I want to g-go,” You choked out the words, fresh tears sporting from your eyes as you motioned your head to the window behind him, the moon peeking out from the caliginosity night, “I want to leave.”

He nodded, heaving out a heavy sigh because he knew that was what you were going to say.

“I know azizam, I know,” He was going to say something else but he stopped, pausing as he carefully cradled your head in his large palm, “I know you do.” He whispered out into the dark room, another faint cry escaping your lips as you nodded along with him.

“Katsuki,” You muttered, and he sat up straighter, his heart beating so incredibly fast in the limited space of his ribcage that he felt as though it was going to fall out at the small mention of the nickname you had given him so many moons ago, “‘Suki…please let me leave.”

He looked away, his eyes downcast as you followed his every movement.

“I wish it was as easy as you make it out to be.”

You nodded again, trying not to look pathetic as another tear rolled down your cheek. If only you knew how much his heart ached at the sight, if only you knew how he’d lasso the moon if it meant bringing a smile back up on your face.

“I know.” You whispered, your voice cracking as you let your cheek fall down onto your arms, trying not to make another sound as you cried.

He didn’t know what to say or do, because deep now he knew that the only thing that would make you happy in this world was to let you leave, to let you live a life not controlled by others who only pretended to care. So he did the next thing he thought was best, digging out something from his pocket as he balanced himself on his ankles, holding it up to the dim light of the candles so you could see it better.

“Here,” He muttered quietly, placing the bracelet back down on your hands, “I saw it at the bazaar this morning and I thought you’d like it.”

You whimpered at his words, looking down at the bracelet to find little rubies, the color of the pomegranate seeds you adored so much, carefully placed alongside other precious jewels, the shine of the gold, and the feel of it heavy in your hands. You looked back up at him, your eyes wide and shimmering as he stammered to explain himself.

How was his compassion so immeasurable? How could he act as if the cruel distance you had put between the two of you was fake (because it was), but who could he move past it? Was it the hardened exterior from years of war that did it to him? Or was he a dreamer, like you, who imagined things a different way than they actually were?

“I can’t just let you leave, it’s a dangerous and cruel world, and even more dangerous for someone who doesn’t know how to navigate it. But if you’d like, tell me the things you want to see, the things you’d want to do. I can go to the bazaar to get you jewelry or fabrics, or I can go to Shiraz to get you their oranges and to Tehran to get their anar…” pomegranates, “Anything you want and I’d get it for you.”

A small smile made its way onto your face at his insistent rambling, the way he held you as if you were going to fly away from his hands.

“Thank you,” You sniffled again, breathing a little lighter as you glanced at him, “It’s gorgeous. B-but you know that I can’t take this Katsuki, it’d be rude of me to do so. It must have cost you a fortune…” You tried to shove it back into his chest but he pushed it forward to you, shaking his head as he refused to take it.

“For you, I’d give you the moon and stars if it meant making you happy.” He promised sincerely, a tilt in his lips as flicked the last tear away from your face, his thumbs soft, unlikely for somebody of his stature, his words sitting heavily in the vast expanse of your heart. How could he say something like that and not feel anything? Did he know what he was doing to you?

If only he could hear the pitter patter rhythm in your heart, the way it thumped at the rhythm of his words and the way he spoke. Maybe then he’d be more gentle with your fragile self, sugar coat his words so they wouldn’t be so blatant to somebody who dreams for a living.

But you were a foolish person, always had been. You never controlled your actions, always leaving them to be rushed and uncaring of how they affected others. And you never watched what you said, speaking whatever was on your mind at any time you deemed it to be necessary. You wanted to guess that was the reason that let you to blurting out,

“Kiss me then.”

Even you seemed startled as the words tumbled out of your mouth.

“I-I’m so, so, sorry. J-just...I didn’t say that, okay?” You say hurriedly, trying to cover up the mess of words you had just said but there was no point in doing it. No amount of training nor sheer will could have hidden the shock that enveloped the young knight's face as he stared at you, slack-jawed.

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked up, not knowing what to do for the first time in his life as his fists clenched. Millions of thoughts were running through his head, everything he thought he knew was being turned upside down, and he didn’t know if he was living in his best dream or his worst nightmare.

“Katsuki...?”

There was a long pause, a heavy silence sitting between the two of you as he shut his eyes as tightly as he could.

“Yes?” He bit out, and you shielded him from his fierce tone. His eyes snapped over to you and the way your expression fell and he loathed himself even more for raising his voice when you were already in such a fragile state.

He wanted to, you had no idea how much he wanted to take you here right now with no consequences. But he was a smart man, who put his brains before anything else.

How would the world react had they found out a knight, one with as much valor as he has, touched their prized princess in such a sinful way? Ruined her lips with his, made it so that the only man she wanted was him? You both knew that it was a matter of feelings because they were surely there. They'd been there ever since he guided you out of the bazaar, but an unfortunate matter of logistics. Who was to say these feelings wouldn't grow, because they would, you knew they would. All you wanted was to have him to yourself, Katsuki, only yours. And you, his to keep away from the world, the touch, and explore without any restraints. If he wanted to, he would. But it was a matter of shouldn't and couldn't.

"Katsuki...please don't be mad, I-"

But before you could finish your train of thought, you watched as he moved forward, his lips hovering breaths above yours, your noses pressed against each other as you stared at each other, each eye fleeting down to each other’s lips as you felt like your tears were quickly evaporating in the heat of the room. His hand was cradling your jaw, tilting your face upwards to meet his as a silent war seemed to rage behind his eyes.

Pomegranate seeds you used to say as you teased him those summer days, pointing out that his eyes held an uncanny resemblance. But here they looked like they were on fire, burning within as he searched yours, trying to figure out what was going on inside your enigma of a head.

You felt as though the air was stopping its flow from your lungs and out, your mind was working at a snail's pace as you tried to understand what was happening. You hated how your heart could change emotions so suddenly, you hated how even you didn’t understand what sort of riddle you could be at the time.

“Did you mean it?”

You breathed. One second passed and then another. Had the world stopped spinning? It felt like it. Nothing else could explain the rush you felt inside yourself as you slowly nodded, moving a little closer to him as your lips barely brushed past each other.

“Yes.”

He did as you asked, closing the pathetic gap between the two of you, his hand behind your neck guiding you upwards as you pressed your lips onto his.

It felt right. Like two lost parts of a separated soul had been reconnected once more.

And you knew that it should have felt like this.

After months of wondering what he’d taste like, how gentle he’d be, it just felt right. He was swift in his movements, his tongue lapping at your lips, groaning at the taste of them, the pomegranates you had earlier in the day still lingering as he tasted the salt of your tears and the tanginess of the pomegranate seeds on you.

He was careful not to pressure you, not forcing you but rather guiding you as he could tell you were inexperienced, his lips slowing down to the pace you set. Katsuki felt as though he was about to die right here, and if he did, he’d die a happy man.

You clutched desperately at his tunic, the fabric wrinkling under your tight grip as you push yourself upwards, to him, a surprised grunt escaping his chest as you wind your arms around his neck, breaking away from him as you tried to gasp for air.

“Katsuki,” You muttered, your lips brushing against his as you were thankful for his arm circling around your back for keeping you afloat, “Please - please don’t stop.”

He smiled that boyish smile that you always died for as he pecked your lips and then your cheek, shaking his head as his breath fanned against your lips.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” He circled his arms underneath your thighs, and in one swift move heaved you up, your legs mindlessly wrapping around his back as he led you toward the bed, “God’s…you have no idea what you do to me, do you?” And you shook your head, feeling him chuckle as he gently let you go, your back falling onto the soft silk sheets you were so used to as he caged you in with his sturdy arms.

“I do things to you?” You teased, your voice still wavering but better than before as he let out a little laugh in your neck, swooping down as he placed hot kisses all along your collarbone and underneath your jaw, the smug smile on your lips falling as you let out a let gasp as he nipped at your supple skin.

“You drive me insane nearly every hour of the day; I can’t spend a day without thinking about you. Had I known better, I would have accused you of witchcraft.” He mumbled hotly against the skin of your chest, his hands roaming upwards and underneath your cloak as he quickly made do at untying the knots behind your back, slipping it off with all the ease of the world.

“And if I were a witch? A haggard and wrinkle-ridden woman, then what would you do?” You were trying to keep yourself at bay, to not lose sight of your sanity as his teeth bit your soft skin, lifting your hips upwards as he slipped the skirt off of your legs, throwing it somewhere in the room, not caring where it landed as he looked back at you.

“You’d still do the things you do to me, Y/n,” He kissed your lips sweetly as his hands found purchase on your waist, “There’s nothing in this world that could change the way I feel about you.”

You could only muster a single breath, your brows scrunching up with care as your hand traveled up the expanse of his back, holding onto his cheek with all the love you had as you gave him a wet and watery grin.

“And what is that?”

He rolled his eyes, his finger gently poking at your side as a giggle bubbled out of you. The small sound of your laughter was enough to bring a wide grin to his face, his lips stretching up into his cheeks as he watched life seep back into your eyes.

“If only you knew how much I loved you,” He muttered, kissing the corners of your eyes, your smile lines, and your delicate lips as he rubbed his nose against yours, “Maybe then you’d know how much it pains me to see you so hurt.”

You pout, your fingers trudging through his hair as you twirl a blonde lock over and over, not noticing the way he practically melted into your touch.

“I don’t do it intentionally, I hope you know.” You mutter and he chuckles, shaking his head as if to agree with you.

“I know, I know,” His hands trickled upwards and upwards, nearing untouched territory as you gasped at the new sensation, not trying to cover up the little moan that slipped between your lips the moment his thumb gilded across your sensitive nipple, “But it doesn’t mean I don’t like - fuck,” He whispered into your skin, almost not believing it himself as his hands gilded across your breasts, “You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” And you could only nod, not trusting your words as he continued his ministrations.

He dipped one hand back down, hooking it under the fabric of your tunic as he pushed it upwards, your hands voluntarily sliding out as the cold winter air bit angrily at your bare, heated skin.

You wanted to cover up, your hands going to travel to hide your barren chest, something only you and your handmaidens had seen before, but his hands circled your wrist, tugging them down, slow to do it in case you were opposed to it. But you let him do it because deep down the two of you wanted this more than anything in the world.

“Beautiful,” He muttered to himself, almost as if the words just tumbled out, looking up at you with those pomegranate eyes almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, “You’re so beautiful Y/n.”

Your eyes wrangled shut, the heat traveling up into your cheeks, and you couldn’t watch without feeling your entire body ignite at the way he brought his face down towards your naked breasts, his hot breathing hitting your cold skin.

Nothing could have prepared you for when his hot tongue pressed flat against your right nipple, his finger working away at the other one, tugging and pulling as he sucked feverishly as if his life depended on it. You couldn’t help the loud moans that escaped, the way you tried to cover up your eyes in embarrassment but didn’t when he stopped, looking down at him as he sent a rather harsh bite to the skin around your breast.

“Don’t cover yourself up, wanna see what you look like when you finally let go.”

And he didn’t let you take in his words as he went back down, working on the other one, making a mess out of it as his spit shined in the pale moonlight. It was maddening the way he kissed and tugged at your nipples, sucking on them, the sound so lewd that you felt like you were burning alive.

He let his curious hands wander down, rubbing up and down your legs, behind your knees, and back up to your thighs, gingerly pinching and prodding at the skin as he tried to mark every freckle, dimple, every little scar you had to memory. You were a work of art, and he refused to let any part of you go unappreciated.

He pulled away, a string of spit connecting itself from your nipple to his red lips as he grinned up at you, an unrivaled fire in his eyes as he moved down, practically melting at the sight of your naked body.

“F-fuck, are you okay if I have a taste, please,” His nose rubbed against the top of your mound, dangerously close to the place where you were warned to never touch, someplace that was meant to be only for your husband. But you didn’t care, not when it came to Katsuki, and you feverishly nodded for him to continue.

“Need to hear you say it,” He muttered, pressing a sweet kiss to your inner thigh as he nudged his nose into your soft skin, “Come on, you can do it.”

“P-please, ‘Suki, please touch me, shit, do whatever you want I d-dont care.” You begged, your fingers pushing his head closer to your wet entrance, and he didn’t need to be told twice as he flashed you a charming smile, his face disappearing as suddenly felt your eyes cross at the sensation.

Gods help you because you had no idea how you were ever going to have been prepared for the way his tongue pushed at your walls, licking away at your juices as he groaned deeply, his eyes screwing shut as your saccharine taste, something that he couldn’t get enough of as he lapped your wetness up with even more fervor.

“O-oh fuck! ‘S-suki, please, please don’t stop!” You whined out loud, hoping with every fiber of your being that the party was loud enough to cover up your wails and moans because you knew you couldn’t keep quiet with the way his hot tongue was making its way inside you. Mapping it all out, putting it into memory which places made you scream the loudest, what part of you to prod at more to get the sweetest sounding moans.

His thumb moved upwards to find your little nub, pinching it between his two fingers as he rolled it back and forth. You nearly collapsed the moment he touched your clit, and he had to use his other hand to widen your thighs because you could barely hold yourself up anymore.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet,” He groaned into your pussy, licking one long strip as you felt yourself clench around nothing, “Sweeter than anything I’ve ever tasted. Shit,” He moaned pathetically at the way you cried for him, “Don’t think I’m ever going to be able to let you go.”

“Don’t, please, please don’t stop!” You begged for him, and his thumb moved faster, your hands pushing his head deeper into you as his nose bumped against your clit, the added sensation pushing you deeper and deeper into something you had never felt before.

It all happened so quickly, the way your stomach clenched, your walls tightening around his fingers and tongue as your back arched, your mouth open in a shameless moan as you came all over him, your chest heaving up and down in an uneven motion as you tried to calm yourself down, only able to see white as you came down from your blissful high.

When you opened your eyes back up you came to see your Katsuki smiling fondly, making haste at taking his attire off, the thick line prominent in his slacks now in front of you, and you felt your mouth dry at the sight.

“How’d that feel?” He asked, his hand coming down to prop up your head, his chin glistening with your release as you give him a mindless smile. Your eyes were relaxed and happy, and if only he could commit this to his memory, he’d never let the image go.

“Good,” You muttered into the palm of his hand, turning your head over to the side so you could kiss it, “Really good.” You giggled a bit at the way he grinned happily, no longer looking like the stern knight he always was but a simple man in love.

“Yeah?” He asked and you nodded, his thumb rubbing up and down your cheek as he pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

“Are you tired, d’you want me to stop?” He asked, his eyes tracing your features, not wanting to push you when he knew this was your first time experiencing all these things. If he could, he’d take the time to show you everything he knew. But on the longest night of the year, he’d be apt with stopping right where he was.

“No, no,” You groaned, your lips forming into a small pout as you pushed at his chest, wanting him to get the hint, “Don’t stop.”

He laughed, the sound deep and rich as you smiled along with it, nodding along to your words.

“Whatever you want, princess.” And for the first time, you loved the way your title sounded on his tongue.

As he got himself ready, you took the time to admire his bare body. The way his chest flexed every time he moved, the muscle delicately outlined with the help of the moon and her stars, looking as if he was chiseled from marble. You knew that no other man in your land could look like him, be him. There was only one Bakugo Katsuki, and you were more than thrilled to have him right in front of you.

You let your nails drag along his thighs, noting the little shiver he let out when your finger dragged up to his hip, tracing his v-line and the muscle of his abs, your cold fingers a stark contrast from his stark skin, but he’d be a madman if he told you to stop.

“So pretty ‘Suki,” You muttered, almost as if you were talking to yourself, not even noticing the way his cheeks flushed at your simple compliment.

But your eyes wandered down lower, and you’d be blind if you were to miss the way his cock had sprung against his stomach, his tip red and angry, dripping with pre as it was practically begging to be touched.

You didn’t know much, only heard from the other girls and their experiences, so you aimlessly brought your hand down, lower and lower till it stopped at the vein that traveled upwards. You traced it all the way up to his tip, hearing him shudder and let out little whines at the way your fingers held him. You followed the natural curve, wondering silently to yourself how he was ever going to fit inside you as you gave him an experimental squeeze. He watched the curious look in your eyes as you watched how he reacted, the way he twitched and the muscle in his thigh almost spasmed as you moved your hand leisurely up and down.

“F-fuck, you’re,” He heaved, running a hand through his hair, his jaw ticking as you looked up at him, your fist stopping just at his head as he swallowed thickly, “You’re killing me, can’t,” He heaved a groan as you squeezed a little, a cheshire grin growing on your face as he tried to glare at you but failed miserably when you squeezed his tip again, smearing pre cum all of the palm of your hand, “Shit, it feels amazing azizam.” He muttered, his head falling into the crook of your neck as you paused your movements.

“Why…why’d you stop?” He whined and you patted his hair, his gold locks as you giggled a little bit at the desperation in his voice. He was such a far cry from how you were used to seeing him, but you kissed his ear, moving his chin up as you pressed another kiss to his lips.

“‘Cause… I want you - want you to fuck me,” You said against his tender skin, your cheek heating up but you didn’t care about being proper anymore, “Can you please do that ‘Suki? Please?”

Ad he almost collapsed on top of you but controlled himself as he swooped down, pressing a messy kiss to your swollen lips as you tasted your tangy self on him, moaning at it as he grinded his hard-on into your stomach.

“F-fuck, of course,” He murmured against you, “You know I’d do anything for you, Y/n. Didn’t even need to ask.”

You grinned at his words, watching as he pulled away, balancing himself on the pads of his knees as he looked down at you, a loving and tender look in his eyes as he winked, his strong frame, something that once used to intimidate you, casting a shadow over your body.

You watched with your heart beating in your throat as you parted your thighs for him, still wet from your previous orgasm, as he lined himself up with your entrance, his thick head prodding at your walls as he looked up at you, a final look, a final say in wanting to make sure you were okay.

The smile you gave him was wide, full of every emotion you tried to convey to him as you nodded, your eyes shutting in pure bliss as he gently pushed himself in, the sting of your tight cunt trying to take shape for him was something you were going to get used to, but after he let you get adjusted to his girth you patted his thigh, telling him that you were ready for him to move.

And gods, when he did you could have sworn you were going to pass out. You could tell he was trying to be as slow and as gentle as possible, but with the way he was chewing on his lips, his brows creasing as he tried to focus and being slow with you, you knew that he too was slowly going crazy.

“‘Suki, please,” You moaned when his dick hit a certain spot inside you, your eyes crossing over as you gripped onto his arm as tightly as you could, “Go faster. P-please, fuck!” He could only grunt, holding onto your hips as carefully as he could without hurting you, and he felt like he was slowly entering heaven because there was no way this was anything but that.

“R-really? Are you sure? Don’t - fuck - don’t want to hurt you…?” He said, his tone laced with worry and desire as you shook your head, begging, pleading for him to go faster.

And he obliged, picking up the pace as his cock plunged in and out of you, the sounds full of sin as your juices mixed with his, a sloppy and wet sound bouncing around the room as the two of you moaned in tandem at the blasphemous yet deliriously amazing feeling.

You tried to open your eyes, crack them for long enough to see him focusing on the way your cunt hugged his cock tightly, the way you didn’t seem to want to let him go as your juices shined brightly on his dick. The feeling was unlike anything he’d experienced before, and he knew that he could no longer pretend and shove his feelings down when it came to you. It was all thrown out the window when you first asked him to kiss you, and now, after this, he’d probably go insane if you asked him to pretend like it never happened.

“Mhh, f-fuck, feels so good, don’t, don’t stop ‘Suki, love it so much!” You cried, and maybe you were just saying random words at this point, but like a fool in love, he clung to all of them.

“I know, fuck, you’re so tight, you’re clamping down on me so much,” He groaned, sputtering through the words as he pistoned his hips and out of you, the bed creaking and swaying heavily with his rapid motions. He prayed to every and any god there was out there that it didn’t crack during this.

“S-shit, Y/n,” He felt his release quickly coming, and he knew it was going to come anytime with the way you gripped onto him, your hot walls not seeming to let him go as his face contracted, “M’gonna, fuck, gonna cum.”

“M-me too, gonna c-cum, ‘Suki, fuck!” You said, your voice airy as you tried to lift your hips up to meet his movement, that knot in your stomach growing tighter than it had last time, your thighs cramping and toes curling as you wrapped your hands around his toned shoulders.

He grunted at the feeling, his dick pulsating inside you as you tried to hold on for a little longer, your back arching, your breasts pressing into his chest as he groaned at the feeling, kissing and licking at your neck as he bit down at the point where your neck met your collarbone.

He stopped when he felt it coming, pulling out of you as his heavy load sprayed all over your chests, your own scream of pleasure mirroring his as you climaxed, your pussy aching without him inside you as you collapsed, your face lined with sweat and arousal as your chest heaved up and down with heavy breaths.

He panted, wiping at his forehead as he looked at you, his heart warming at the intimate sight. He had no idea how he was ever going to recover from this, how he’d come up with a plausible lie for why he was suddenly putting down his knightly duties to no longer serve you.

But right now he couldn’t let those thoughts ache his mind as he climbed off of the bed, his whole body spent as you cracked open an eye, fearful that he had quickly regained his senses and was trying to find the easiest way out.

Even now you tried your best to get your mind straight, but it was impossible when he looked so gorgeous, the pale moonlight washing over his features as the muscle in his back rippled with his every movement.

“‘Suki…where,” You pulled yourself up on your elbows, your chest a beautiful sight as he looked back at you, “Where’re you going?”

He paced back, hearing the worry in your voice as you gently cupped your cheeks, kissing all of the concerns out of your face as he gently rubbed at your worry lines, promising to himself that he’d never let you trouble yourself again if he had the power.

“Getting you a washcloth, I’ll be back, I promise.” He pecked at the corner of your lips as you smiled, nodding as you fell back into the bed, your fingers feeling at the soft sheets as you looked out of the window, hearing some rustling in the back as you tried to calm your heart rate down.

He came back with a cloth warmed with some water, gently dragging it all over your body as you winced, hearing his soothing apologies as he tried to be softer with your sore areas. It was an intimate sight, and you hoped that you weren’t the only one out of the two who felt this way.

His eyes were careful as they tracked all over, careful as to not miss a spot, and then went back to get another towel, this time for your face as he cleaned all the sweat and spit off, not missing the way you held his wrist and pressed an appreciative kiss to his palm your eyes drooping from sleep as you let him pull you into some more comfortable robes, pulling the sheets over your body so that you wouldn’t shiver in the night.

That’s when you let the exhaustion and sleep take over your body, drifting off into a dreamless slumber as you hoped that the warmness that was radiating next to you could only have but one explanation for it.

—

When you woke up, you squinted as the sun shined brightly in your eyes, holding your hand up to hide the rays. You felt sore and the place between your thighs ached, but you had never gotten a sleep as good as the one you had gotten last night.

Looking over, you let out a sigh of relief to see Katsuki next to you, sleeping away peacefully as his cheeks were squished in from the pillow.

Laughing quietly you ease yourself back down, pulling the blanket over your two bodies as you laid your hand across his shoulders, playing with the tuft of hair at the nape of his neck, twirling it around mindlessly as you wondered to yourself just what you were going to do.

Before you could think for long, you felt him shift beneath your fingers, and watched as he cracked an eye open, and then another one, slowly coming to his senses when a big, wide, goofy grin spread across his cheeks to see you there laying in front of him.

“Good morning,” You muttered, your thumb moving across his forehead, tracing his delicate yet war-ridden features with all the care in the world.

“Mornin’,” He said, the gruffness in his voice making you shiver as his hands circled around your wrist, bringing your hands to his lips as he placed a delicate kiss on the back of them.

The two of you let the silence sit between your bodies, mapping a dimple and a scar on each other's face, things you’ve ever noticed before because you’ve never been in such a position to take notice of such things.

But soon the heavy question came back, and you could only let it sit for so long before somebody brought it up.

“I’ve been wondering,” Katsuki started, weaving his hand underneath your naked body so that he could tug it closer to himself, smiling to himself as you let out a shocked squeal at the way he so effortlessly was able to move you, “If your offer’s still up?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you let your palm rest on his chest, drawing to be neared to his warmth as you rested your cheek against his bicep.

“What offer?”

He played with your hair, grunting as he looked down at you for really forgetting the words you told him so many months ago.

“The one where I helped you run away.”

You paused, your breath catching in your throat as you looked up at him, wondering where he was going with this.

“I recall something like that...” You said slowly, not wanting to ruin anything when things seemed to be going relatively alright. But he traced little patterns on your back, the action soothing as he flattened his palm across your shoulder blades.

“Well, I reckon you’ll run away either way. If not last night, then another night,” He looked down at you, a promise in his eyes that you knew he would intend to keep to his very death, “And you’re going to need somebody who knows Persia like the back of their hands.

"But...Katsuki," You frowned, moving some of the hair away from his face as he brought your palms to his lips, watching you as you tried to formulate your thoughts. There was no point in lying to him when he could read you so easily, "I don't want you to leave here. You have a life here, people who need you." You needed him, but you didn't want to seem any more desperate than you already were to him.

Regardless, he shook his head, his hand moving over your waist as his fingers marked all the placed he kissed last night.

"You," He kissed your forehead, smiling into your skin as you giggled at the ticklish sensation, "Are my life. What do you not get about that?" You heated under his words, trying to hide your face in his arms.

“And regardless of if I come with you or not, you’re going to be taking a part of me that only you have, so..." He shrugged as if he wasn't saying the most amazing words he could have ever said, "I'll be coming with you."

The smile you gave him could radiate universes to come, it made the stars jealous in your wake, and the sun wondered how something could look so bright, how it was humanly possible.

“Really? You promise?”

He nodded, kissing your forehead as he held you close to his chest, his arms protectively trying to shield you from the troubles of the world.

“F'course, my love," He kissed you one last time as the sun began to rise from the east, "I’d never lie to you.”

---

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bright-side20 · 6 months

Text

While rereading ACOTAR, I focused on Azriel's shadows to fully understand their dynamics, and I noticed that we're not actually sure about the origin of Az's shadowsinger power.

When rhys talked about Az's shadowsinger power, he wasn't sure about how he earned it:

"In the centuries I'd known him, he'd said little about his life, those years in his father's keep, locked in darkness. Perhaps the shadowsinger gift had come to him then, perhaps he'd taught himself the language of shadow and wind and stone".

=Azriel didn't tell Rhys how he became a shadowsinger; Rhys simply concluded that due to Azriel's time imprisoned in darkness, he learned the language of shadows

_"Shadows different from anything my powers summoned, spoke to. Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him.Instead, he had learned its language. Though the cobalt Siphons were proof that his Illyrian heritage ran true, even the rich lore of that warrior-people, my warrior-people, did not have an explanation for where the shadowsinger gifts came from. They certainly weren’t connected to the Siphons."

=This shows more that Rhys doesn't know a lot about Azriel's power, even all Ilyrians cannot find an explanation of it

Cassian also suffered because of illyrians, his mother died because of them,but he still doesn't hate them, he doesn't deny his Illyrian genes, unlike Az who doesn't miss a chance to confirm how much he hates Illyrians and doesn't belong to them.

_"A rare visit from the shadowsinger. Both myth and terror. Az looked just as displeased to be here, but he’d come when I asked. It was healthy, perhaps, for Az to sometimes remember where he’d come from. He still wore the Illyrian leathers. Had not tried to get the tattoos removed. Some part of him was Illyrian still. Always would be. Even if he wished to forget it."

=I think it could be a plot twist that Azriel doesn't descends only from the Illyrian breed and that his shadowsinger power is inherited 🤷🏻‍♀️

Azriel is the owner of the truth teller, the twin of the Gwydion (star sword). Bryce and Hunt are both starborn and wield the star sword, which was dipped into the cauldron. So, since Elain is a cauldron made, she can wield the truth teller. But what about Az? I think his unique power allows him to.

"I'll go. The Prison sentries know me-what I am."

What are you Az 👀

#azriel shadowsinger #acotar theory #acotar thoughts #rhys acotar #pro elriel #sarahjmaas #azriel acotar #sjm #elriel supremacy #azriel #acotar

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stellerssong · 3 months

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Hi again. I'm on some level here to ask for a complete explanation of every aspect of Hawaiian culture that is even tangentially related to your latest fic because I know absolutely nothing and there is the ever present concern that the terms run through cursory Google Translate and internet searching will lose nuance and implications. There were definitely some references to divinities and myths and such that went over my unenlightened head. The story you wove was rich and intricate enough to be held in the mind of someone who knows less than nothing and still have great meaning and truth, but I know that it will mean yet more if I can see the threads you used to make it. (On another level, I'm asking for the explanation because I am abruptly deeply interested in a topic I had previously not thought about very much, and you seem to be significantly more of an expert than the average internet search.)

first off! well first off i am blowing you so many kisses for this very kind ask, thank you so much for giving me an excuse to ramble at (great, great, great) length.

so second off! i would just like to stress that i am very much not an expert in hawaiian language, folklore, history, culture, etc. i am neither kānaka maoli (native hawaiian) nor kamaʻāina (born in hawaiʻi although not necessarily of hawaiian ancestry), and i have not studied these topics formally/in a setting that applies academic rigor. i am an enthusiastic amateur with a personal connection to hawaiian culture, the kind of brain that likes to fixate on areas of interest, and a willingness to scrounge around for reading material. i have, i think, a decent sense of what some of the baseline texts in the field are, and a fairly good bullshit detector (and the understanding/ability to dig into things when i can't rely on the bullshit detector), but ultimately i am a layman and an outsider with corresponding perspectives and biases. i also, i will admit frankly, have a pretty sharp knowledge cutoff corresponding to the time of first european contact, just because of my own personal interests and reading preferences.

read that whole disclaimer? let your eyes glaze over while you skimmed it? good! here's my real quick (lmao) rundown of Sum Things U Should Know If You Wanna Close-Read Kīpuka:

ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi 101

Good grief when I put it like that I do NOT feel qualified to tell you any of this. Anyway. We can keep it basic just so you can get a sense of the mouthfeel of the words. And just fyi ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi is the proper name of the language; i'll be using "Hawaiian" as the adjective form, sans ʻokina, assuming an English-speaking readership.

ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi as it is commonly rendered today has 13 letters: 5 vowels (A, E, I, O, and U) and 7 consonants (H, K, L, M, N, P, W), plus the ʻokina or glottal stop (that little apostrophe-lookin' dude at the beginning of the word ʻokina, also the source of most of my typesetting woes). Pronunciation-wise, there are no silent letters and no though/through/enough-type surprises: every letter is pronounced, and all of the vowel renderings are approximately equivalent to how you'd pronounce them in Spanish or Italian. Hence, the word kuahine = koo-ah-HEE-nay rather than, like, kyoo-ah-highn, which made me feel gross even just typing it out.

The ʻokina is pronounced, and bear with me here, like the dash in the english nuh-uh. or, if you're a try-hard vocalist—reattack the vowel after the ʻokina instead of eliding it to the vowel prior. So the place-name Kaʻū is pronounced ka-OO, as distinct from the word kau which is pronounced more like kow (which is a bit of an oversimplification of the latter word, but I'm trying to be efficient here).

That leads us neatly into the other diacritical marking used in ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi, the kahakō or macron which helpfully appears in its own name. No worries here; the kahakō just serves as a stress marker, so you'd say kahakō = ka-ha-KO instead of ka-HA-ko, or from the example above ka-OO rather than KA-oo.

There are a couple of other little pronunciation tricks here and there. The letter W is sometimes pronounced as a V, and unfortunately I can't really describe the rules for that shift; that is one I must admit I know mostly from vibes. For example, the correct pronunciation of Hawaiʻi itself is ha-VAI-ee, but I've never heard the place-name Waimea pronounced as anything but why-MEY-ah.

Occasionally you will encounter the letter K pronounced as a T, which I believe is an artifact of the morphological shift from older related languages such as Tahitian and Samoan which do preserve the letter T as a unique phoneme. To my knowledge, the Kauaʻi dialect (spoken today on Niʻihau) also preserves the T, but most spoken ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi heard elsewhere is based on the Big Island dialect, which lacks the T. One notable exception is the word tūtū (an affectionate/respectful term for a grandparent or elder), which you really don't hear pronounced as kūkū.

Really, though, listening to Hawaiian music is how I got the language in my ear and imo it's the best way to get it in yours. Can't go wrong with Israel Kamakawiwoʻole (of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" fame), but I have a personal soft spot for Kealiʻi Reichel, Weldon Kekauoha, Amy Hanaialiʻi, and the Cazimero Brothers.

The Place-y-ness of Hawaiian Literature

This is more of a sidenote than its own heading, but I'm the one driving the essay, and I think it's an interesting thing to point out, just because it helps establish a particular perspective I wanted to keep in mind while writing this fic.

Something you might notice as you start to look at Hawaiian oli, mele, and myth is the high level of specificity of place. Hawaiʻi is, let's be honest, not that enormous of a place when you consider it on a global scale—but the specificity of localities within Hawaiian literature is kind of astounding. Not only are there loads of place-names referenced in any given work, there are unique Hawaiian names for landmarks, cliffs, peaks, hills, streams, waterfalls—even rains and winds of specific locations merit their own names.

"kīpuka" is very specifically set on the windward side of Hawaiʻi island, so I made an effort to focus my references to place-names on that region—Hilo, ʻŌlaʻa, and Waiākea are all locations on the eastern side of the island, and the one reference to Kona on the leeward side reflects the coming of someone bearing grievances (in addition to eia aʻe ka makani Kona being an existing idiom warning the listener to watch out for an angry person, the windward and leeward sides of Hawaiʻi island have a long history of territorial warfare and jockeying for control of the island). I'd also considered having the bird discussed in the fic be a different species, the kākāwahie—but that species is/was endemic to Molokaʻi, and quite honestly my knowledge of the history and culture of Molokaʻi as a separate polity is not that great.

(This is partly due to sample bias—my introduction to Hawaiʻi was within a Big Island-based context. At the same time, another thing you may notice about the better-known source texts is that many of them center around Hawaiʻi island and, to a lesser extent, Maui, thanks to the political supremacy during the unification/post-contact era of Hawaiʻi island and Maui aliʻi. Ross Cordy wrote a whole ass book about the Oʻahu chiefdoms that is simply not to be had for love or money no matter how I search for it. I am THIS CLOSE to straight up cold emailing the man and being like I WILL VENMO YOU $75 USD DIRECTLY IF YOU WILL SIMPLY JUST SEND ME A COPY OF YOUR BOOK. PLEASE. SAVE ME ROSS CORDY.)

Girl (Gender Neutral), I Cannot Explain Hawaiian Mythology, Poetics, and Mythopoetics As a Subheading in One Post

Honestly. I can't do it. But some tidbits to assist your further research:

A great deal of Hawaiian literature and oral tradition hinges on kaona, roughly "allusion" or "metaphor." In a description that is useful to precisely no one but myself, it's not unlike the complex plays on words, puns, and deep well of references used in Heian Japanese epistolary poetry. Some of it is easy to grok for newbies: for example, the concept of one's lover as a lei adorning the body, or being splashed or sprinkled with water as a euphemism for sex. Some of it goes a lot deeper, relying on historical or folkloric place-name associations, puns, and ancient practices and superstitions.

The Hawaiian "pantheon" I place in scare quotes because ancient Hawaiian religious practices and superstition were highly syncretic, often extremely localized, and more contradictory the more you read into it. In a very, very, very, VERY rough and off-the-cuff sense, though, there were thought to be four major gods: Kāne (associated with dawn, the sun, the sky, running freshwater, and irrigation-based agriculture, among other things), Kanaloa (associated with the ocean, sea creatures, and sometimes death, as an opposing or complimentary force to Kāne), Lono (god of fertility, agriculture with something of an emphasis on dryland agriculture, rainfall, and peace as embodied in the Makahiki festival), and Kū (god of war, the deified kingship, fishermen, sorcery, and quite honestly a ton of other things in various manifestations).

There were also quite a large number of "lesser" gods, the word "lesser" used just in the sense that they weren't honored to the same extent as the four previously named in state-sanctioned religious practice. Probably the most well-known of these is Pele, the volcano goddess. (I reference another in the fic, Niolopua, god of sleep—but the jury's out on whether or not that refers to an actual god or is just metaphorical in the same way that most people think of "the Sandman" as a euphemism for sleep and not a literal guy who comes into your house and puts crusties in your eyes.)

The gods were thought to manifest in a variety of forms, called kino lau (literally "four hundred bodies"). You can think of this in the sense of "Lono takes on the shape of an albatross or a tropicbird to interact with mortals, while Kanaloa prefers to manifest as an octopus," and in stories kino lau are sometimes represented that way, but in practice it's less of a Greek myth-style practice of shapeshifting and more of an animistic religious belief. The kino lau in nature embody the god and in a metaphorical sense illustrate the interconnection between divine and earthly and the presence of the divine on earth.

(HUGE OVERSIMPLIFICATION. HUGE OVERSIMPLIFICATION. PLEASE DO MORE RESEARCH AND DO NOT TAKE ONE TUMBLR POST AT ITS WORD ON THIS.)

The Endless, in the fic, are very easy to loop into the concept of kino lau, because of their canonical universality. Danny appears as a shark (a symbol of chiefhood), a pueo, or Hawaiian owl (an 'aumakua, or ancestral guardian), a manu-o-Kū, or fairy tern (a bird associated with the god Kū, likely in his aspect as a god of fishermen, navigators, and wayfinders), a kalo plant (a staple crop of ancient Hawaiʻi, a kino lau of Kāne, and a symbol of duality and rebirth), and a snowcapped mountain (a sacred site considered kapu, or forbidden, to all but the highest chiefly individuals). Despair, meanwhile, appears as an ʻalae ʻula, or Hawaiian moorhen (another ʻaumakua, but also an animal whose cry was thought to foretell misfortune), a stingray (for her barbed tail), a hāpuʻu fern (in contrast to Dream's kalo, the hāpuʻu was considered a famine food), a lava flow and its first growths (acknowledging Pele as both a destroyer and a creator of land, just as Despair also embodies hope), and a number of other things meant to embody the devastation of Hawaiʻi (rats, feral pigs, and mosquitoes have decimated endemic birds and insects; the kiawe is an invasive plant species that forms dense, thorny, and difficult-to-destroy groves; light pollution affects behavior and migratory patterns of both avian and aquatic species).

All pretty simple, obviously!

Further Resources and Recs

Okay, so, obviously I'm not going to be able to explain every single reference in this fic in a single post, though I obviously tried my damnedest. In lieu of that, I'll offer some useful resources for further reading:

Stephen Trussel's Combined Hawaiian Dictionary is a fantastic resource for vocab that incorporates several major Hawaiian dictionaries in a straightforward (well, as straightforward as this gets) text-based web page. Ulukau also has a searchable interface, which is a little easier to interact with, but I like having the Trussel for reference.

Huapala is everyone's go-to for translations of Hawaiian lyrics. I've linked to it in the endnotes of the fic for readers interested in more on "Ka Ipo Lei Manu," but it's got nearly any ʻauana-style Hawaiian song you please, and if I recall correctly even a few traditional oli. Again, another slightly old-fashioned text-based site—but we all know how to use CMD + F in a page, do we not?

Native Books is awesome if you, like me, prefer reading things in print but would prefer not to feed your dollars into the maw of the Amazon beast. A lot of the lit on Hawaiʻi was printed either a long time ago or in very small releases and is now out-of-print and difficult to find even in libraries, so it rocks that there's an independent bookseller that specializes in getting those works to an audience in hard copy. @ NATIVE BOOKS PLEASE CONSIDER GETTING ROSS CORDY TO RE-PRINT THE RISE AND FALL OF THE OʻAHU KINGDOM THANK YOU SO MUCH. University of Hawaiʻi Press is also a good source for academic texts, although their website is...mm...difficult to navigate, and do be warned that they charge academic press prices.

In terms of who to read, you really can't go wrong with Mary Kawena Pukui, a Native Hawaiian scholar, author, composer, and educator whose work is the backbone of just, a fuckton of writing about Hawaiʻi, both academic and popular. Her book ʻŌlelo Noʻeau: Hawaiian Proverbs and Poetical Sayings is worth at least a skim just to get the feel of the Hawaiian mindset; it also contains a healthy dose of myth, folklore, and history in the explanations of the sayings. Absolutely adorably, I've found two books she edited that I read the absolute FUCK out of as a child available as PDFs through Ulukau: The Water of Kāne and Other Legends of the Hawaiian Islands and Hawaiʻi Island Legends: Pīkoi, Pele, and Others. Definitely worth a quick read if you want more on the myth side of things.

As a non-specialist, I've really enjoyed Patrick Vinton Kirch's writing on precontact Hawaiʻi. For a field archaeologist, his writing is both highly engaging and very respectful of the peoples he studies, and trust me, I do get my back up easily when it comes to white people writing about Other Cultures TM, so I'd posit it means something that he passes my sniff test. A Shark Going Inland is My Chief is a great overview of the history of the Hawaiian chiefdoms from the first settlement of the islands to immediately precontact, and Kuaʻāina Kahiko offers a bit of a closer look at everyday life in a specific locality in the islands (in this case, Kahikinui, Maui).

Kamehameha and His Warrior Kekūhaupiʻo by Stephen Desha (trans. Frances N. Frazier) began its life as a serialized Hawaiian-language history of the rise of Kamehameha I. It's a dense read, and it WILL test your ability to remember who the hell all these people are to its limit—it mostly discusses the lives and times of the major players of the aliʻi class in the late precontact–early postcontact era, and when you remember that a) a hell of a lot of personal names in this tale begin with the letter K and b) the aliʻi class of Hawaiʻi practiced a mindboggling amount of political marriage, consanguineous marriage, and sanctioned adoption between blood relatives, the family trees get real complicated REAL fast. If you can hang on through all that, though, it's an intensely detailed and very vivid portrait of a culture at a tumultuous moment, it gives a great sense of how the Hawaiians viewed themselves and the world, and it's an interesting exercise in the mythologizing of the Kamehameha dynasty.

Okay, So...?

So...if you hung on through all that, god DAMN are you dedicated. Have what is quite possibly my favorite Hawaiian song for your trouble. It is, funnily enough, about a bird.

EDIT: I am retroactively making this post unrebloggable. I'm really, really glad folks have found it interesting and are looking into the resources I shared, but I absolutely do not want this getting passed around as Hawaiian Culture 101. If you want to learn more about Hawaiʻi, I must stress that you should look to a reputable source and not some schmuck on Tumblr rambling about her effortposting fanned fiction.

#chatter #this is why we don't tell swan ''make your own post about it.'' because then she does. this #i must stay confined to the tags field lest i become drunk with power and challenge god.#i have a handful of other text sources that i can rec but they all come with caveats for one reason or another #and i'm going to be so incredibly embarrassed if i hit some kind of post length limit with this thang. so uh. send another ask i guess #AGAIN. I'M NOT AN EXPERT OR AUTHORITY OF ANY KIND. IF I WAKE UP TOMORROW WITH PEOPLE IN MY INBOX #DEMANDING TO KNOW WHO MY KUMU IS I'M GONNA BE REAL PISSED AT Y'ALL FOR RATTING ME OUT. SO BE COOL PLEASE

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illarian-rambling · 6 days

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Lore Drop: The Illarian Gods

“Wait a minute,” Izjik interrupted, “Not to be that foreigner, but you did kidnap me, so I don’t really give a shit. What’s the Illarian church?”

“Really?” To Izjik’s surprise, it was Djek who answered. “I’m agnostic and even I know that. Who is it you think Twenari prays to every time she gets out that mess of crystals and incense?”

“You’re a human! Isn’t it a human religion? Don’t act like you’re smarter than me for knowing your own people’s religion,” Izjik snapped.

Daedryn sighed heavily. It seemed the greatest enemy to her faith wasn’t quite what she’d expected.

“The temple you were at, that was an Illarian temple, dedicated to one of the thirty-four gods in our pantheon,” the knight explained, “Illarianism is the state religion of the Republic, Nabafyr, and Skysheer, though it is still the most dominant in its birthplace—the Janazi archipelago.”

“Got it. Understood. Please carry on.” Izjik gestured for Daedryn to continue the best she could with her hand tied.

The knight nodded politely, giving her a patient smile, before remembering who she was smiling at and falling back into a stern frown.

“The gods of the Illarian pantheon have charged us, their thirty-four favored Chosen, with eradicating any End presences we find on this world. As such, I will take you to the All-Temple and you will be consecrated—your tainted soul and its unholy link destroyed entirely. That will hopefully free this man from the enchantment you have enthralled him with.”

Daedryn gave a slight, grim sort of smile, as if satisfied with her good work. “In a way, you have done me a great service. My name will be echoed through the ages—Daedryn Whitenight, Chosen of Loqang and slayer of End-Made-Flesh.”

Long post, so I'll put the rest under the cut ;)

So, to start, let's clarify some etymology. Most of the 'in world' words from my setting come from the Janazi language unless otherwise specified, as it is the most widely spoken language on Illaros. One common prefix you might notice is Illa. It means horizon, roughly, which is a very important concept to the humans who originally spoke Janazi. From it, you get words like Illaros (world of horizons), Illankas (city on the horizon), and Illarian (Gods from the horizon). This can be a bit confusing, as Illarian refers to the gods and Illari refers to people from Illaros.

As Lady Daedryn said, there are 34 Illarian gods. As per their creation myth, the Creator was the first thing in the universe - the God of gods. It wished to fulfill its purpose by, well, creating, so it made the sun, moon, and stars, then the earth and water. However, its creations were empty without life, but as a non-living being, the Creator was stumped on how to create that.

After some consideration, it broke off two, lesser pieces of itself and infused them with energy of the new world it had made. These pieces were named Tsa and Ayu - Mind and Body, respectively. As they were born of the earth and water as much as they Creator, they were able to forge life, breaking off pieces of themselves to make people much as the Creator had broken off pieces of itself to make them. Due to this, all people have a spark of the divine within them - a lasting imprint from Tsa and Ayu.

However, these new people grew lonely. The world was still foggy and dark, the sun dim in its infancy. The people began telling tales of great beings who would protect them and keep them company. Because of their divine souls, these people had enough leftover energy from pure creation to form gods to fill these rolls. Four hosts of eight were born, one for each primal element, 32 in total.

These gods, being born from human minds, kept some very human characteristics. They squabble and fight, even with siblings of the same host. They love and lust. Some are cowards. Some are heros.

Each Illarian god has two domains, one physical and one mental. Worshippers seeking to emulate or protect against those domains will pray to certain gods either out of desire or fear.

Generally, there is no 'good' or 'evil' in Illarian theology. If you emulate a certain god as best you can, you'll end up in that god's heaven. If you piss one off a whole lot, you'll end up in that god's hell. Given how many Illarian gods are diametrically opposed, this leads to lots of arguments over which souls go to who.

The gods don't appear directly to most folk, however, each has one Chosen. These are their hands in the mortal realm. A Chosen can perform miracles using divine magic borrowed from their god, including healing and much else. Generally, gods and their Chosen are quite close, as a Chosen is specifically the mortal which most closely emulates their god.

The Chosen were established thousands of years ago, during an event which has mostly been lost to legend. As the priests tell it, a great beast came down from the sky to devour the world. The gods banded together, however, the demon could sense their divine power from far away and was able to hide any time they drew near. In order to circumvent this, the gods chose one mortal each to wield a small sliver of their power - too small to be sensed by the demon. Together, with the Chosen to sneak in and pin the beast, holding it for the gods to kill, they were able to win the fight. Later, this demon would come to be called the Stareater, and from then on, all Chosen were housed in the All-Temple, the heart of the Illarian religion located on the Janazi island of Illadir.

There are many more stories to be told about the Illarian (AWOL gods, massacred pantheons, the murdered god of wonder) but this post is already long as is. To finish off, here's a list of the Illarian gods.

Those Above The Creator, God of gods Tsa, maker of the body Ayu, maker of the mind

First Host-Gods of Sky Timaz, father of storms and patron of the greedy Sen, lightning maker and patron of the intelligent Nes, thunder smith and patron of the brave Tefhiri, wanderer on the winds and patron of the free Qular, rain bringer and patron of the calm Beshha, spinner of clouds and patron of the merciful, death guide for good souls Kembri, the snowy death and patron of duality Nameless

Second Host-Gods of the Water Kes, sea warden and patron of the mysterious Loqang, keeper of rivers and patron of the loyal, death guide for souls who fell in service Shesh, reaper of the lakes and patron of the lazy Dramesunji, He who lurks in the aquifer and patron of the cunning Kama, the misery of ice and patron of the cruel Danta, mistress of fish and patron of the charitable Qespir, the heart of all leviathans and patron of the enraged Sham, the tsunami dancer and patron of fools

Third Host-Gods of the Land Busar, He who carves the stone and patron of the strong Festa, She who breathes life into soil and patron of the humble Sambur, teacher of crops and patron of the determined Maza, listener in the forest and patron of the wise Umail, beast mother and patron of those who survive Doshu, lurker in caves and patron of the treacherous, death guide for evil souls Setsa, protector of darkness and patron of women Poutza, maker of medicine and patron of the caring

Fourth Host-Gods of Flame Samira, the hearth mother and patron of families Vaane, She who screams the wildfire and patron of the hungry Astes, protector of light and patron of men Wentsu, ash-streaked and patron of despair Ibara, the star sailor and patron of those who wander, death guide for lost souls Erani, volcano maker and patron of the ambitious Nantavi, He who heats the skin and heart, patron of passion Aetru, They who see with the sun and moon, patron of joy and the androgynous

Lmk if you have any questions and I hope you have a bitchin day!

Whoops almost forgot I have a tag list for a reason!

@amandacanwrite @elsie-writes @riveriafalll @kosmic-kore @kaylinalexanderbooks @bard-coded @carrotsinnovember @patternwelded-quill @somethingclevermahogony @whatwewrotepodcast @goldxdarkness @the-angriest-author @mk-writes-stuff @frostedlemonwriter @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @thebejeweledwatercat

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #lore drop

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charlottedabookworm · 18 days

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Ok, now I've got to ask: how would you write that Eos in Pegasus crossover?

i think-

i think it would depend on what type of story i was trying to tell

am i writing fic about the stargate crew meeting eos? am i writing a fic about the people of eos meeting stargate, and the universe beyond that? is it a full fusion? if eos is in pegasus, how haven't they already been culled to near extinction? do they have stories of the wraith?

but- i think maybe the story i'd tell is that eos is a planet on the distant edges of the pegasus galaxy

once upon a time, long before lucis, long before even solheim, it was... probably a planet of the ancients. maybe a research facility, maybe they lived in harmony, who knows? the ancients are twats but eos had to get it's gate somehow anyway

the wraith already existed when the ancients flee, near ten thousand years ago from canon. the wraith are why they fled after all. so, once upon a time, the people of eos had stories of the monsters in the night, the creatures who stole away their children adn their loved ones to eat them. daemons, they were called by the people of eos all those years ago

eos forgot this, after the ancients left

(how could they not, when their gate became nothign more than a monument? how could they not, when the controls that powered the shield around their whole planet were long forgotten?)

(the ancients isolated eos as an experiment)

(it saved them, in the end)

the ancients left and eventually the civilisation of solheim fell and lucis rose in its ashes and the scourge, discovered when some unknowning travellers visited a small island that had buildings made of clear stone and brought countless riches back to the mainland with them, spreads

it mutates

(as ancient experiments so often do)

they mutate

the creatures born are called daemons, after the monsters they told their children about at night, a myth older than memory

bahamut, ramuh - the astrals, all of them, (ascended, all of them) stare, some in horror and some in fascination. they debate on what to do. they are not supposed to interfere

they do anyway

(eos is, perhaps, worse off for it)

time passes. ardyn and somnus are born. a betrayal. a monster born of ancient experimentation. a bloodline gifted from ancient experimentation

time passes

canon approaches

the astrals, the ascended, they are still not supposed to interfere . they are supposed to be distant, recorders of history, detatched. except they have watched this planet for two thousand years now, daring not to rejoin the others for fear of their first interference being noticed. they are supposed to be above the mortals below them

eos is dying

bahamut is certain in his plan. with it, eos will be saved. the survivors can rebuild. and, with ardyn adn noctis and lunafreya sacrificed at the labratory alter, well. they can finally return to the other ascended as all proof of their interference would have passed

bahamut is certain

the other astrals are... less so

they are worshipped here (like the ori and they flinch from the comparison, flinch from the power it gives them) and their people beg them for aid and they-

bahamut is certain

(bahamut is drunk on worship, he becomes less and less the man they knew with each day, just as ifrit had before they had been forced to intefere and they-)

they interfere

ships are guided to that small island with its laboratory. the notes on the scourge are conveniently written there in Sol, a language only their scholars would know but still one translatable

a new path is found

(bahamut rages-)

they interfere

(the gate is unearthed)

they interfere

(the block, the disconnect that had removed it from the rest fo the pegasus system, fades away)

the stargate lights up in the centre of a field in lucis, in an eos that is scourge free if not daemon free, and the man who happens to see it is a man old enough to remember when daemons were myth

to remember the stories of world travellers told to him by his father, by his grandmother, passed down from century to century until there was no one left to tell them

(atlantis' system flickers, releasing a hidden file, a hidden address)

the stargate lights up. AR1 steps through

Ardyn Lucis Caelum meets them when they do

#ask #raven-6-10 #ffxv #stargate #crossover #...huh #i started this like 'yeah no i still don't know'#turns out maybe i do?

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mmkin · 3 months

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A Most Willing Queen (Hades x Persephone)

Well, here it is for my fellow Hades and Persephone fans/enjoyers - the first chapter of the story! It's posted on my AO3 here but there is also a cut under the lovely GIF of Hades.

Content/trigger warnings - Teen safe (some flirting) Mentions of bullying.

A Most Willing Queen

I've loved mythology since I was a kid, and the myth of Hades and Persephone has been one of my favorites since I was introduced to the wonderful world of myths. I also enjoy the retellings of myths and fairy tales, I was a kid when Disney's Hercules came out and I loved it, even though the movie diverged from the myths in some wacky (but fun) ways. Recently, I watched the cartoon that was made from the movie and really enjoyed myself and then watched the movie again. Ahh, nostalgia ahoy.

So I decided to do a Hades and Persephone story, using the world/characters from Disney because well, this version of Hades is a heckin lot of fun. Persephone appears in the movie near the end when the gods are gathered around Hercules in gratitude. She’s the one with blonde hair and pale purple skin, and a headpiece/headdress thing that looks like a flower.

I like classical/historical retellings of mythology and fairy tales but I also enjoy fun and light-hearted retellings, whether set in the modern day or just using modern language and anachronisms (like this version of Hercules)

In classic mythology, Hades is the oldest brother, but in Disney's Hercules, he's the youngest, so I am using that. The time frame for this is a bit ambiguous as it spans years, but it begins not too long before Hercules is born.

So here we go, and I hope you enjoy this! All feedback is welcome. This was quite a challenge for me to write because historical fiction is one of my favorite genres and I had to keep reminding myself that anachronisms were perfectly ok – and needed – here. I’ve never written anything like that before, so I tried my best to capture some of the humor one could find in the show or movie, especially with Hades.

Brief historical note – the aulos is a two-piped flute. It can be seen in classical Greek art and I wanted something other than a basic flute or Pan pipe.

o0o0o0o

Mother did not like bringing her up to Olympus too often. Persephone wasn't sure if she should be glad for that or not. She was the daughter of a mighty goddess, one of the Dodekatheon, and her mother was also one of the children of Cronus himself. Pretty high up there in the hierarchy and yes, Zeus defeated Cronus and the Titans, but he hadn't done it entirely on his own. And as her mother would point out, lightning bolts don't feed mortals. And one of the fastest ways to become happy is with a full belly, which Persephone couldn't argue with. God and mortal alike enjoyed a good meal and going to bed with a full belly. Even if the gods didn't need food, the banquet tables of Mount Olympus were piled high when there was a party.

Since she was born, the importance of the cycles of Nature was ingrained into her. Mortals died, plants died, but that was part of the cycle of life, and it was Demeter’s job to help maintain that balance, and as she got older, some of that responsibility became Persephone’s. For she was also the Goddess of Spring, dancing through the fields and causing the flowers to bloom as Greece warmed from its yearly cooling.

But doing that, and all the other things through the year got tiring. Persephone dreaded the idea of eternity following the same routine. Whenever she expressed boredom, her mother always scolded her, reminding her of how important it was to ensure the plants grew as they should, going through the cycles. Or she would switch up the nymphs that attended her daughter, thinking that fresh faces would help alleviate some of that boredom.

Persephone was always supposed to be bright and cheery because, after all, she was the Goddess of Spring? And who wanted a quiet or gloomy spring, her mother would point out. Persephone could appreciate how important it was to be mindful of Nature and the blessings and rhythms of the earth. And all that jazz.

But sometimes she just didn't feel like doing any of that. She just wanted to enjoy peace and quiet, and not listen to the chatter of the nymphs or her mother's lectures. And she didn't want to wear that stupid flowery headpiece her mother chose for her when she was performing her goddess duties. She got the theme – Demeter's plant theme was pretty in-your-face to anyone who looked at her, but the flower motif was so overdone.

“Can you believe it? Hera’s pregnant again!” Mother laughed, clapping her hands with excitement. Persephone held back a shrug as she sipped some nectar. Even though having a baby was a pretty big part of nature, she’d always thought the process somewhat messy. Nature didn’t just involve plants, after all, even though animals were more Artemis’s domain.

“That's lovely. She and Zeus look so happy," Persephone said politely. She wouldn't begrudge another couple's happiness, even if the party was not as fun as she'd hoped it was. Mother was constantly at her side, giving her little opportunity to have a real conversation with another god. Sometimes another goddess would seek Mother's attention, and Persephone would try to sneak away, but Mother would eventually notice she was gone and go after her. Agggh.

That would change when Artemis approached them. She wasn't sure if Artemis had needed to talk with Mother, or if the Goddess of the Hunt was trying to help out the younger goddess. Maybe because Artemis's mother had been pretty protective until the wild young goddess had proven once and for all how independent she was.

Persephone let out a sigh of relief as she moved among the other gods – some of whom she had not seen in years – and taking in the grand sights of Mount Olympus. It did feel a bit strange up here, being so far away from the earth. She heard snippets of conversation, much of it centered around the upcoming baby, but also of various other things – dealing with worshipers, petty rivalries with other gods, the latest fashions, and the like.

Some of the gods here had been here since the beginning of creation and she felt awed by them. She’d heard the tales of how the Titans had been crushed by Zeus, who set the order of the world right so that mortals could live in peace. And then he’d apportioned lots to himself and his brothers, and those who had helped him in the mighty battle against Cronus and the other Titans.

It was said that Zeus, in his wisdom, granted the lots according to each god’s abilities. And it was something that seemed to have worked. No one could deny that Poseidon or Demeter were not happy – or suited – with the spheres they’d be given headship over. And likewise for many of the other gods.

Except for one. Gloomy as Hades might be, it was an open secret that he was unhappy with his lot. Someone had to take over the Underworld, but no one else wanted such a morbid place when there were delights in heaven and earth to be enjoyed.

She'd only seen him a few times and never exchanged anything more than a few polite words with him. But she felt bad for him after hearing the way the other gods talked about him. Maybe he wasn't as handsome as Apollo, or as friendly as Hermes, or easy-going as Poseidon. But she couldn't imagine that being stuck with a place no one wanted would do favors for anyone's mood.

She blinked as the very deity she was thinking about slunk past her, looking quite pissed off. Probably Zeus had another dig at him. It seemed that the gods rotated through the same few sets of jokes about Hades. About him being so stiff. Or having a fiery temper. And sometimes a bit of wrestling, as many brothers did, but Hades never looked like he was having any fun when Zeus or Poseidon had him in a headlock.

Most other people would have just laughed at Hades behind his back as he sulked off. Persephone stared for a moment before retreating from the party, almost gliding after him.

He stepped outside. Thick wisps of clouds surrounded the pavilion, and Hades muttered to himself as he slid his hand across his hair. She could practically feel the tension radiating from him. Suddenly, he whipped around, scowling at her. Several meters separated them, and she flinched back at his sudden movement. He blinked in surprise and straightened himself.

“Yes?” he asked diffidently, though she could still sense his anxiety and stress.

“I-” She blinked and looked at him. “I just… um.” It sounded so logical in her mind, but when it came time to speak, she found herself unable to express just what she wanted to say. “I’m sorry you had a bad time and… um.”

He raised his eyebrow. “I don’t remember the last time anyone showed any concern about how I was at these parties.” He slid across the ground, wisps of thick gray smoke curling around the hem of his clothes. It was hard to not feel intimidated as he towered over her, but he seemed more interested now instead of angry. So she continued, feeling a little calmer.

“I mean, the jokes and comments people say. Mother says it’s just how things are, but…” She shrugged. “I don’t see them treating one another the way they treat you. They’re jerks.”

There was an almost imperceptible shift in his expression. “That is observant of you, Persephone.” The way he said her name sent a small shiver down her spine, and against the darkening sky, the blue flames that danced around his head were ethereal. He didn’t look so scary like this, with the gentle twilight around him.

“Um, thank you?” she said with a small smile.

“No, no, really. You’re a breath of fresh air, you know that. I mean, aside from being the Goddess of Spring and all that. These parties are a drag and babe, you really made my day.”

Babe? But when he said it like that, it didn’t bother her. Had any other god called her that…

Mother told her about how her flowers brought joy to people. And Persephone knew that. She could see the joy in people’s faces when they saw flower-covered fields, when they plucked flowers and inhaled them, or used them for oils and perfumes, and so on. But it was nice to see that she’d brought happiness to a tired and bitter god with a few kind words.

She blushed and laughed shyly. “So… um, what’s the Underworld like?” she blurted out. He slid closer, wisps of smoke trailing around her feet.

“Eh. Could be more lively. Decor hasn’t been updated in a few thousand years, but who’s there to impress? The dead? They just pile up and I wonder if the place will ever get full. Doesn’t seem like it, but hope springs eternal.”

Despite his morose description of the Underworld, Persephone was still intrigued. She’d lived on earth. She’d seen heaven. Wouldn’t it be interesting to have seen the underworld, too? Before she could ask another question, she heard her mother shout out her name.

“There you are! What are you doing out here?” she demanded, barely noticing Hades.

“Mom! I just needed some fresh air.” Quickly, she glanced at Hades. A little help here, bud?

“It does get loud in there,” Hades said. “One can only see the same faces and hear the same jokes so many times…” He rolled his eyes. Persephone bit back a smile as she met his eyes. “Anyway, I’ve done my duty and made my appearance, so I believe it’s time for me to amscray. Got my duties in the Underworld that Zeus so generously bestowed upon me. Good night, ladies,” With that, he gave mother and daughter a small salute and disappeared into the ether.

“What was that about?” Mother demanded.

“What was what about?” Persephone asked with genuine confusion. She hadn’t done anything she wasn’t supposed to, was she? She’d just chatted a bit with Hades, who… well, actually didn’t seem quite as bad as the other gods thought.

“What did you talk about?”

“What? Mom!” Persephone said with a small huff. “Um, I asked him about the Underworld.” She left out the rest of it, though she did wonder if her mother ever stopped to think about how stupid the whole ‘let’s pick on Hades and call it teasing’ schtick was.

“Why?”

Persephone wanted to roll her eyes at that. “I was just curious about what it was like in a world opposite of ours. Figured who better than to ask than the god who ruled that place, right?”

“Mmm.” Demeter scowled, but quickly settled her face into a pleasant expression. You don’t have to be so protective, Mom! Jeez. Despite her mother's efforts to shelter her, Persephone wasn't ignorant of what mortals did. After all, her mother's work was inevitably tied with fertility even though there were other goddesses that resided over marriage or love. She saw the way that some of the gods looked at her and knew what they wanted.

She was curious about that sort of thing, but she hadn’t come across anyone that she would give serious consideration to. Her mother really needn’t worry about her, but there was no point in telling Mom that...

o0o0o0o

Persephone sneaked away from the nymphs as they danced and played their musical instruments, the cheery notes of lyre and aulos accompanying singing. It was something she often did when she wanted to simply be alone. She’d ask the nymphs to play music and then sneak away during their jam sessions. Yeah, Mom would scold, but without any evidence of wrongdoing, what could Demeter do but think that her daughter was weird?

The shade provided a welcome respite from the sun that had beat down on her head when she was with the nymphs, and she flipped her blond hair over her shoulder. The shade seemed to get thicker the further she went into the woods, and she paused as she looked around. The light at the edge of the woods seemed so far away.

“So what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” she heard someone ask. She yelped and spun around, nearly tripping over a root before she saw Hades, sitting against a tree.

“You should know better than to sneak on people!” she exclaimed softly, quickly straightening herself and brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

“Babe, if it’s any consolation, I wasn’t trying to frighten you. But yes, it’s a habit of mine.”

Yeah. She could see that. “Okay, sure. But what are you doing here?” she asked.

“I’m here to see you.”

She gave out a small, surprised laugh and gestured to herself. “Me?”

“Why not? Things seemed to be going nicely on Olympus with our little meet-and-greet, but your mother barged in. I figure, this time, we could take the chance to relax a little and get to know one another better. Sound good?” He grinned at her.

Some – okay, a lot of – women would have been repulsed by that fanged grin. But there was an odd charm about it. It wouldn’t have looked right on any other god, but it suited him, just like the blue flames and dark smoke did. She stared at him for a few moments, considering the implication of Hades’s interest in her.

The other gods mocked or scorned him. She’d offered him a kind word and like he said, it was like fresh air. It seemed only natural he would seek more. Considering what she knew of him, could she blame him? And she would be lying if she said she wasn’t the least bit curious about him.

“… Yeah. That does sound good.”

He stared at her for a moment as if he could not believe his luck. It was cute how his eyes widened and his lips puckered a bit as if he was trying to decide if she was teasing him or not.

Damn, the other gods really had done a number on him, hadn’t they? Seemed like some therapy was called for, but that was not for the here or now. He blinked and quickly collected himself, running his hand across his head. His flames seemed to burn a little brighter. Now that she thought about it, there was a certain appeal around Hades that was lacking in gods that were considered more conventionally attractive.

He leaned back against the tree. “In that case, have a seat.”

She waved her arm, and one of the roots from the tree flexed up, raising itself high enough for her to be seated comfortably.

When she was seated, she was just outside of his reach, but he could lean over and grab her. She saw the wisps of gray smoke curl around her feet and wondered if perhaps she’d made a mistake. He might be socially awkward, but he didn’t have ill intentions, did he?

She looked up at his face. They stared at one another for a moment before both of them opened their mouths to speak. She gave a small, sheepish laugh and gestured for him to go first.

“So, what are you up to?” he asked casually.

“Not much, really. Just had to sneak away from the nymphs for like, the umpteenth time. How about you?” she asked.

“I decided I needed a break. I mean, I’m the ruler of the Underworld, who’s gonna tell me I can’t take a break.”

“Zeus, perhaps,” she pointed out, seeing a glimmer of a scowl on his face before she continued, “But you can be sure that he won’t hear of it from me.” She flashed him a smile, and he relaxed visibly, chuckling and shaking his head.

“And you won’t tell him if I have a drink, either?”

“Oh no, no. My lips are sealed!” With that, she made the locking gesture on her lips. He grinned and with a wave of his hand and a puff of smoke, a martini glass materialized, with an eyeball in place of the olive. She blinked and looked at it, trying to not look grossed out by the eyeball.

“Oh, how rude of me. Would you like one?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure. Just, without the…” She pointed to the contents of his glass.

He snorted quietly at that, but a drink materialized for her, thankfully sans an eyeball.

“So, it seems that perhaps I’m not the only one who needs to get away sometimes,” Hades commented as he took a sip of his drink.

“Not as much as you do, I think. But yes.” She sighed before she took a sip. “Oh, that’s strong. But good.” It was different from the beers and wines that could be produced from the grain and grapes grown in Demeter’s fields. The flavor was sharp and not what she was used to, but after a few more sips she was used to it. “It’s just… the same thing. Over and over. Year after year.” She was a goddess, and so she didn’t need to be as concerned about the passing of time as mortals. “Planting, growing, harvesting, preserving, the same grind over and over like some rat race and I feel bad about thinking about it like that way because nature is so important and I don’t want to disappoint Mother and-”

“Whoa, whoa. Hey. Take a deep breath. Have your drink,” he coaxed. She took a deep breath. Sometimes she would feel anxious, but then Mother would tell her she had nothing to be anxious about, and that there would be nothing to be anxious about as long as she did her duty. She reached up to run her hand across her hair, thankful she wasn’t wearing one of these flower headpieces. “Someone as young and cute as you shouldn’t be so stressed out, hey?”

“I'm one of the older gods of my generation. I just look young." Fresh-faced spring to her mother's more matronly appearance. She didn't hide the mild annoyance in her voice.

He stared at her for a moment before nodding. "Oh yeah, that's right. You don't come to Olympus very often, and neither do I. But may I say you look fantastic for your age."

“Is that meant to be a pick-up line?” she deadpanned. He grinned at that.

“Is it working?”

“Not really.”

His face fell so quickly at that it was almost comical, and weirdly enough, she felt a little bad for him. He was interested in her, but he was not doing the best job of showing it. Some people were just socially awkward, but she imagined that being picked on constantly didn't help. So she wouldn't be one of these people.

“It’s just that I get so many comments on my looks. How cute I am, how fresh I look, and all that. It’s not very original.” She took another sip of her drink. “Really, if you’re going to try to hit on me, maybe go for something a little more creative?”

He stared at her with his mouth open for a second before he quickly collected himself.

“All right, all right. You know what? That’s fair enough. I get what it’s like to be typecast, so…” He squared his shoulders as he looked down at her, and she could tell that he was putting serious thought into it. That was more flattering than she wanted to admit. “How about this? If you were a taser, you’d be set to stun?”

It was her turn to stare at him with her mouth hanging open for a second. That was more flattering than she expected. He blinked at her and looked nervous when she said nothing so he thew out another one.

“So, aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living? Do you have a Band-Aid, because I scraped my knees falling for you? No wonder it’s so gray around here, all the color is in your eyes.” With each line, he drew a bit closer to her, inch by inch. She did not move back, though some others would have.

Seeing the God of the Underworld trying cheesy pick-up lines on her caused her heart to give an unexpected flutter. She gave out a soft giggle. His eyebrow quirked in mild confusion as he tried to figure out if she was laughing at him, or just enjoying his lines.

“Do you have more?” she asked.

“More what? More lines? You want more?" he asked, delighted surprise in his voice. "Well, then. Are you an artist, because you're so good at drawing me in? Are you a time traveler, because I see you in my future? Do you know what my toga is made of? Boyfriend material." Closer still he leaned until his face was only half a foot away from her own. She might have felt threatened, but there was something… exciting about having him in her personal space. The smoke swirled around her feet and lower legs, but the pressure was gentle, barely even there.

What would it be like having Hades as a boyfriend? Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself, Persephone asked herself. She barely knew him! She blushed as Hades looked down at her, wiggling his eyebrows at her in a playful leer.

Mother would have told her to run. But she just stared back at him and smiled sweetly before she finished the rest of her drink. “I’ll admit, these lines are pretty funny. And I do thank you for humoring me.”

“I like a woman with a healthy sense of humor.”

She thought about what she’d seen on Olympus and the way he was treated. “I like a man who can make me laugh,” she retorted gently. This time, when they stared at one another, it wasn’t awkward. She was certain her lavender cheeks were more pink than purple now.

“Persephone!" one of the nymphs screeched. The spell was broken, and she gasped quietly as she spun around in the direction of the voice. The other woman was still a ways off, but she did not have much time. Annoyance flared up, and she took a deep breath before turning to Hades, seeing the blue flames edging with red as he glowered in the direction of the voice.

“I… gotta go. Sorry," she said. "Mom's been in a mood lately and I really don't want to provoke her. But it was nice to see you again, Hades." She handed the glass back to him, and he took it, their fingers touching for a moment and giving her a pleasant tingle.

“Wait,” she heard him say as she rose from her seat and turned from him. She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him.

“I suppose you wouldn’t object to me seeing you again?” he asked as he reached out, picking up her hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. For a god of a cold and dark place, his lips were surprisingly warm.

“Not at all.” Her voice came out a touch thicker than she’d expected, and she found herself not wanting to pull her hand away. “Bring a few more of these pick-up lines next time, will you?”

He chuckled at that and nodded. “Until then, Persephone.” He disappeared into the ether, and Persephone stood there, staring at the spot where he’d disappeared, all the gloom gone before her friend found her.

o0o0o0o

Pain and Panic peered at their lord and master from behind one of the pillars in the throne room. There’d been something a bit off about Hades since he came back from his last visit to Olympus. A couple of times, they’d caught him sitting on his throne, staring off with a wistful expression neither of them had ever seen. He’d just come back from the surface world, and there was no mistaking the moony expression on his face.

“Could it be?” Panic whispered to his companion. They’d served Hades for hundreds of years and been around enough mortals – usually to spy or cause mischief on behalf of Hades – and seen them act like this. Old or young, male or female. They might be servants from the realm of the dead, but they’d seen enough of Aphrodite and Cupid’s work.

“If this came from one of Cupid’s arrows, it won’t end well,” Pain responded worriedly. They remembered that too well, even though it’d been ages ago. Manufactured love might be strong, but it wasn’t true love. It was like trying to replace real vanilla extract with the imitation stuff, and for one such as the God of the Dead, it simply wouldn't do. Really, it wouldn't, as the whole Leuce affair had shown. Talk about a dumpster fire.

“Hopefully the girl will be nice?” Panic replied.

“Well, there’s that,” Pain replied, crossing his fingers and hoping for the best.

#writing #strawberrycatbeans #villain gets the girl #fanfiction #hades #hades and persephone #persephone #disney's hercules #disney's hades #disney hades #disney persephone #hades/persephone #mythology #greek mythology

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sindri42 · 6 days

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What books or graphic novels do you most frequently recommend? What are your all time favorite books or series?

That's a complicated question, and my memory is shit so I'll probably come up with a dozen better answers the moment after I hit post, but off the top of my head...

Basically everything by Seanan McGuire/Mira Grant is gold. Most of it comes in long series which are a big investment and have their ups and downs, and which will have different value to different people and mindsets, and I haven't read all of them because she just writes too damn fast, but I haven't encountered a single book from her that wasn't great. If you're looking for a one-off, Middlegame might be the best; it's about a couple of artificial people created by an ancient conspiracy attempting to attain godhood, and math, and language, and time travel, and what family means, and doing the same thing over and over thirteen thousand times in search of a better result. I'm also especially fond of Alien: Echo, which starts out as a cute little YA gay romance set in a sci-fi colony world, until halfway through you catch the name 'Weyland-Yutani' and abruptly remember which franchise the title is referencing and realize how few of these plucky teens are likely to survive to the end of the week.

You should probably read everything by Naomi Novik. The Temeraire series, starting with His Majesty's Dragon, is an alternate history of the Napoleonic Wars (officers and gentlemen, wooden ships and iron men, all that jazz) except that aerial combat is much more prominent than in our timeline, which gradually expands out into building a whole different earth exploring how numerous cultures and regions were affected by humanity not necessarily being the dominant species. The Scholomance books, starting with A Deadly Education are kind of like your standard magical boarding school, except unlike certain more famous examples of the trope actually makes sense; also it's consistently hilarious whenever it's not being horrifying as the story follows a girl who is clearly born to be an evil empress and who is very definitely not dating this stereotypical dashing hero guy, no matter how many times they save each others' lives. As standalones go, she's done Uprooted and Spinning Silver, both of which put wonderful new spins on classic fairy tale tropes and popular myths but this paragraph is already too long for me to elaborate.

The Murderbot series by Martha Wells is not only great as a sci-fi action series and as a worldbuilding exercise, but also the most realistic depiction of an anxiety disorder I've ever read. It starts with a security droid that hacked its own governor module to get the ability to disobey orders, but then because change is terrifying it continues to go through the motions of its terrible job, but now streams thousands of hours of media in the background while standing guard between crises; unfortunately, when something starts trying to kill the scientific survey team it's currently contracted out to, it discovers to its horror that it's actually starting to care about what happens to them.

Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones is a classic for a reason. Maybe you've seen the Miyazaki film? Doesn't matter, read the book anyway. It's a completely different story. (somebody described it to me as 'the book is what Sophie remembers, the movie is how Howl describes it after the fact')

If you're looking for books on tumblr you've probably heard of Tamsyn Muir's The Locked Tomb series by now; no need for me to elaborate on what others have said better.

Ooh, pick up Roadside Picnic by Arkady and Boris Stugatsky; it might be the greatest Soviet sci-fi novel, and has had a huge cultural impact around the world. After you read it you'll realize that you've been seeing it everywhere, not just in a whole bunch of other sci fi literature but also from video games to anime to tabletops.

Moving into things that I personally love but don't necessarily recommend...

I want to tell everybody about The One Who Eats Monsters by Casey Matthews. It's a near-perfect blend of the adorable and the horrifying, and one of the best non-human perspectives I've encountered, following an elder god who could be mistaken at a glance for a teenage human girl as she simultaneously tries to figure out how to navigate "civilization" and fights a monstrous conspiracy to protect an (actual) ordinary teenage girl that she accidentally swore an unbreakable oath to defend because the moon was very full and she smelled very nice. It's great. but if you read it, then you would be in the same position that I am, waiting for the second book in the series, which was supposed to come out six years ago.

I love the Arcane Ascension series (Sufficiently Advanced Magic, On the Shoulders of Titans, The Torch that Ignites the Stars, and The Silence of Unworthy Gods) by Andrew Rowe; it's basically about an artificer attending a school for battle mages, using every trick and trap and gadget and clever scheme he can think of to keep up without having any direct combat magic of his own. The reason it's probably not for everybody is that as the story gets bigger and more elaborate, it starts interweaving with at least two other series of books by the same author (one of which initially looked like a completely different setting, and definitely operates on a completely different magic system), and none of the three are finished yet. Also the systems involved are intricate and there's a lot of little details going on, so you kiiiinda have to get obsessed in order to keep track of it all.

The Witcher books by Andrzej Sapkowski might be the best you'll ever find in the gritty "grimdark" fantasy category. The netflix series that everybody was obsessing over for a while before it shit itself too badly? Everything that they did right, is something that was better in the original books. Most of the best parts of the original books were removed entirely and replaced with complete garbage. The video games are a better adaptation, but still fall a bit short in writing quality and character depth. But it definitely leans into the Grimdark, possibly more heavily than you want to deal with.

The Valhalla trilogy by Ari Bach is good... conditionally. You can read just the first book like it's a standalone, and get a cool story subverting the classic Coming-Of-Age 'girl who never fit in is recruited by a secret society that tells her the thing that made her Different is exactly what they need to save the world' trope, except that the thing that makes her not fit in is her propensity towards brutal, remorseless violence. But you can't read the second book (which elaborates on why maybe maintaining world peace by deploying a secret society of ultraviolent killers with no oversight might not be a good idea) without committing to also reading the third, because the end of the second book will make you want to stop reading, and if you take the whole trilogy together then it's great but if you let the end of the second book be your last memory of it then that'll leave a bad taste in your mouth forever.

Jim Butcher's Codex Alera is six books, and five of them are absolutely magnificent. Unfortunately, the first volume is, in my humble opinion, dogshit. You can't skip it either, or you'll miss a bunch of vital setup and introductions. There's nothing you can do except push through a bunch of stuff ranging from simply dumb to downright offensive before you can get to the great part.

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kayleezra · 1 year

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A Sunflower and Their Encyclopedia // (Ezra x GN!Reader)

Word Count: idk like 500-600

Summary: Modern AU? idk but we're on Earth so you decide. Ezra tells you he loves you.. in some less than normal ways...

A/N: FOR MY WIFE @writer-darling WHOSE BIRTHDAY IT IS TODAY (it's short and shitty because I just typed it up after work but I couldn't not post something!) BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU MOSTEST

oh and this is like not at all accurate because sunflowers use circadian rhythm to face and follow the sun but… we’re going to pretend we don’t know that and believe the social media myth

“You’re my sunflower,” Ezra's smooth voice brings you back to reality.

“What?” You ask, not sure you heard him right in your trance-like state.

“You are my sunflower,” he annunciates, “or Helianthus as it’s scientifically known” he adds as if that would clear everything for you.

If the two of you had been talking about flowers, it would make some sense, but you were simply enjoying each other's presence in silence.

“What?” you ask again, clearly confused.

“Well when it’s overcast and sunflowers are looking for the sun, they often face each other. Claiming each other as their own personal sun, sharing each other’s energy. You’re my sunflower, you’re who I turn to in dark times to keep me going.”

“That is… incredibly sweet,” tears brim your eyes, “Then you’re my sunflower too. What brought that up?”

A slow smile creeps its way onto his face, the corners of his mouth lifting with love and eyes warming.

“I was simply enjoying the view, of you. And how captivated and intoxicated I am from the sheer joy you exude. How my infatuation and devotion to you knows no bounds. You’re my life source, my light and my love.”

A cheesy smile is plastered on your face, “And so the obvious conclusion was sunflowers?”

“Perhaps sunflowers didn’t properly convey all that.”

“No it did I was ju-” but before you can finish he interrupts by continuing his thoughts.

“You’re the Acacia Tree to my ant colony,” he finishes with a proud smile.

You stare at him dumbfounded.

“Acacia trees, commonly found in South Africa and Australia, grow hollow roots, structures that allow ants to use as shelter and even feed from. In return, the ants defend the tree from herbivores. The ants larvae also feed off Beltian bodies, which are small pouches of important proteins and nutrients and in return the ants protect new acacia seedlings from being eaten by other small critters.”

“So… I’m a tree,”

“An acacia tree, yes”

“And you… are a colony of ants,”

“Mhm”

“That share a relationship,”

“A symbiotic relationship, yes”

“That share a symbiotic relationship. But why am I the tree and you the ants?”

“Easy. Because you’re a life-giving thing that is much greater than I. A beautiful great standing of Mother Nature.”

Then it dawns on you. Where Ezra is getting all this random nature information. Weeks ago while thrifting he came across a tattered nature encyclopedia, his nose was stuck in the book before he even purchased it. He returned it to the shelf claiming he did not need it but something tells you he went back…

“Did you get that encyclopedia?”

“Is it that obvious?”

You laugh, “I take it you're enjoying it”

“Thoroughly”

“And how many more métaphores do you have for us?”

Ezra looks up and cocks his head like he’s actually mentally counting them, “at least another hundred.”

You laugh again at his absurdity born of love.

“Although I don’t think I could even run out of ways to tell you I love you, my dear. And if I did then I’d learn more languages. And if I ran out of those, I’d create our own language that never runs out of ways to express my love for you.”

And you know that this man in front of you means every damn word he's just said. You can't help but wonder how you got so lucky, while he wonders the same.

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @littlemisspascal @writer-darling @avengetheunnatural @louderfortheback @currentobsessionrabbithole

#ezra x reader #ezra prospect #ezra x you #prospect 2018 #pedro pascal characters

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merymoonbeam · 3 months

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Spear?

CC3 spoilers

This is just a manifesting post and more connections I found from cc3 🫡

In my wild hunt post I talked about narben being a spear for... reasons.

I think Gwydion and Truth-Teller are inspired by King Arthur's weapons. In myths it is talked about how he has a sword, a knife and a spear...

Other weapons have been associated with Arthur. Welsh tradition also knew of a dagger named Carnwennan and a spear named Rhongomyniad that belonged to him. Carnwennan ("little white-hilt") first appears in Culhwch and Olwen, where Arthur uses it to slice the witch Orddu in half. Rhongomyniad ("spear" + "striker, slayer") is also mentioned in Culhwch, although only in passing; it appears as simply Ron ("spear") in Geoffrey's Historia. Geoffrey also names Arthur's shield as Pridwen; in Culhwch, however, Prydwen ("fair face") is the name of Arthur's ship while his shield is named Wynebgwrthucher ("face of evening").

So other than excalibur Arthur has a dagger and a spear.

To me it looks like

Excalibur= Gwydion

Carnwennan= Truth-Teller

Rhongomyniad= Narben

So why? Lemme explain.

With Excalibur it is about who is worthy to pull it out of the stone.

Excalibur is the mythical sword of King Arthur that may possess magical powers or be associated with the rightful sovereignty of Britain. Traditionally, the sword in the stone that is the proof of Arthur's lineage and the sword given him by a Lady of the Lake are not the same weapon, even as in some versions of the legend both of them share the name of Excalibur.

Romance tradition elaborates on how Arthur came into possession of Excalibur. In Robert de Boron's c. 1200 French poem Merlin, the first known tale to mention the "sword in the stone" motif, Arthur obtained the British throne by pulling a sword from an anvil sitting atop a stone that appeared in a churchyard on Christmas Eve.[18] In this account, as foretold by Merlin, the act could not be performed except by "the true king", meaning the divinely appointed king or true heir of Uther Pendragon. (As Thomas Malory related in his English-language Arthurian compilation, the 15th-century Le Morte d'Arthur, "whoso pulleth out this sword of this stone and anvil, is rightwise king born of all England."[19][d])

And we have Gwydion/Starsword

That your son, not you, retrieved the Starsword from the Cave of Princes in Avallen’s dark heart. That your son, not you, stood among the long-dead Starborn Princes asleep in their sarcophagi and was deemed worthy to pull the sword from its sheath. How many times did you try to draw the sword when you were young? How much research did you do in this very study to find ways to wield it without being chosen? (Hoeab)

So it matches even though at the end it is Bryce who can access the real power of the sword not Ruhn bc it is sarah and we have the females as a main character.

And now the dagger—Carnwennan and Truth-Teller.

In myths the dagger is described like this.

Carnwennan, or Carnwenhau ("Little White Hilt"), was the dagger of King Arthur in the Welsh Arthurian legends

In Culhwch and Olwen, Arthur names it as one of the few things in the world which he will not give to Culhwch. Later, he uses it to slay the witch Orddu, the daughter of the witch Orwen, by slicing her in half.[1] In the Welsh Triads, Carnwennan is listed alongside Arthur's spear Rhongomyniad and Arthur's sword Caledfwlch as sacred weapons given to him by God: "the sacred weapons that God had given him: Rhongomiant his spear, Caledfwlch a sword, and Carnwennan his dagger" (Bromwich's translation).[2]

The fact that Arthur would not give the weapons to Culhwch when we know Fionn didn't give the Gwydion and TT to Theia? Kinda similar.

We learned in cc2 that Gwydion and TT are twin blades.(I went into detail about this and how it connects to elriel in several posts > light and dark, sing me, alpha and omega)

The male drew it, and Bryce flinched. Flinched, but—“What the fuck?” The knife could have been the twin of the Starsword: black hilted and bladed. It was its twin. The Starsword began to hum within its sheath, glittering white light leaking from where leather met the dark hilt. The dagger—.The male dropped the dagger to the plush carpet. All of them retreated as it flared with dark light, as if in answer. Alpha and Omega. “Gwydion,” the dark-haired female whispered, indicating the Starsword.(hosab)

And in cc3 we learn that when you use Truth-Teller...there are shadows.

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart— She willed it into Truth-Teller, and shadows flowed—

Seems...weird that Truth-teller has "shadow powers" and in acowar we have Elain literally stepping out of a shadow. And we never learned the reason why???

So how these connect to Arthur's dagger? (Just gonna add here that @riddlecrux told me about this before so credit goes to her 🫡)

In addition to his other magical items, Arthur had the invisibility granting Carnwennan. The dagger was providing a kind of presence concealment to Arthur or to its wielder. In European folklore, invisibility-granting items are rather prevalent. These are often recognized as caps or invisibility cloaks. The invisibility attribute of Carnwennan was probably the main reason Arthur named his dagger among the things he could never give up for any reason:

Invisibility? Shadows? @silverlinedeyes made a post before how elain could get a cloak made of void? And we know with Gwydion and TT you can make a portal to nowhere—the void.

It had been a gamble. But she’d seen what the Starsword and Truth-Teller had done to Polaris. They had created a void that had sucked the Asteri in—the only sort of prison that might destroy a being of light. The only force in the universe that ate light, so strong no light could ever escape it. A portal to nowhere. To a black hole. Wasn’t that the unholy power that Apollion possessed? The power of the Void. The antithesis of light.

So maybe we are gonna see elain and the void connected?

Also more about the dagger in Arthurian legends:

Carnwennan, or Carnwenhau, meaning "white hilt" was the dagger belonging to the great King Arthur. It is attributed with the magical power to shroud its user in shadow. This dagger, it is said, was one of three sacred weapons given to King Arthur by God. Arthur names it as one of the few things in the world which he would not give to his cousin Culhwch. King Arthur used this very dagger it to slay the witch Orddu ,daughter of Orwen. by slicing her in half. It is also possible that this is the dagger he once used to kill a giant.

So there is that.

And lastly we have the spear—Rhongomyniad.

There is not much we can use from the myths because the only things we have are its name and it was given to Arthur by god.

Rhongomyniad, or Rhongomiant (variously translated as "Slaying Spear," "Cutting Spear" or "Striking Spear"), was the spear of King Arthur in the Welsh Arthurian legends. Unlike Arthur’s two other weapons, his sword Caledfwlch and his dagger Carnwennan, Rhongomyniad has no apparent magical powers.

In the Historia Regum Britanniae, Geoffrey of Monmouth calls Arthur's lance Ron,[2] presumably an abbreviation of the original Welsh name. Layamon also calls it this in his Brut. Geoffrey states that Arthur carried this lance with him at the Battle of Mount Badon. Layamon states in a passage (without naming the weapon) that Arthur's spear was forged in Carmarthen by a smith called Griffin. He also adds that it formerly belonged to Uther Pendragon.

The wiki says it has no magical power but...if sarah took inspo from Excalibur for Gwydion and the dagger for TT...I wouldn't put it past her to use the spear as an inspo for Narben... especially with her love for 3s.

Also like the spear we dont have much to go on for Narben either. We have so little information.

“Amarantha destroyed one,” Amren said. Cassian started. “I never heard that.” Amren amended, “Rumor claimed she dumped one into the sea. It would not come to Amarantha’s hand, nor the hands of any of her commanders, and rather than let the King of Hybern attain it, she disposed of it.” Azriel asked, “Which sword?” “Narben.” (Acosf)

"Narben was even older than Gwydion,” Rhys said. “Where the hell was it?” (Acosf)

Narben’s powers had not been the holy, savior’s light of Gwydion, but ones far darker. (Acosf)

Rhys studied her blade. “Narben is a death-sword. It’s lost, possibly destroyed, but stories say it can slay even monsters like Lanthys.” (Acosf)

So that's all we know.

Another point...Fionn connection.

In myths there is a HUGE part about Fionn using a spear to defeat a giant.

Also known as the Spear of Fiacha (or Fiacail), Birgha was an enchanted, venomous spear. The warrior Fiacha, a follower of Cumal (a leader of the Fianna), gave the spear to Cumal’s son Fionn mac Cumhail so that he might defeat Aillén, an evil creature/former member of the Tuath Dé Danann who resided, three-hundred-and-sixty-four days a year, in the Otherworld. Each and every Samhain the monster—nicknamed “the burner”—would wreak havoc on the royal residence of Tara (also: Teamhair) with his fire-breath after lulling its defenders to sleep with enchanted music. Specifically, Aillén plays—or weaponizes, I should say—the suantraí (lullaby) strain of ancient Irish music, which is frequently deployed by gods, druids, and other musicians in the myths in order to incapacitate opponents. That’s where Birgha comes into play. In Lady Gregory’s version of events, Fiacha teaches Fionn how to unlock the power of the spear, instructing his pupil as follows: “When you will hear the music of the Sidhe, let you strip the covering off the head of the spear and put it to your forehead, and the power of the spear will not let sleep come upon you.”

Just saying...with all of a new character singing...having some effects on others...IDK. WEIRD. 🫣

Another point is Four treasures of Tuatha de danaan. ( @offtorivendell made a post about them before )

Dagda's Cauldron

pretty self explanatory...cauldron.

Claiomh Solais (the sword of light)

Gwydion.

The sword may be rendered in English as the "Sword of Light", or "Shining Sword".

The Sword of Light or Claidheamh Soluisis a trope object that appears in a number of Irish and Scottish Gaelic folktales. The "Quest for sword of light" formula is catalogued as motif H1337.

The Starsword sang with light, her power flowing into it. Activating it. And nothing had ever felt so right, so easy, as plunging the blade into the bony chest of the wounded Reaper. It arced, bellowing, black blood spurting from its withered lips. (Hosab)

Narben’s powers had not been the holy, savior’s light of Gwydion, but ones far darker.(acosf)

Lia Fail Stone

My whole wild hunt post is about this. You can read it there. Basically I think this is the inspo for the stone on top of Ramiel.

The Spear of Lugh

And here is the reason I think Narben might be a spear.

Lugh's spear (sleg), according to the text of The Four Jewels of the Tuatha Dé Danann, was said to be impossible to overcome.

Interesting that Amren said this about Narben in acosf:

“I don’t know, but she found it, and when it would not bend to her, she destroyed it. As she did all good things.” It was as much as Amren would say about that terrible time. “It was perhaps in our favor. Had the King of Hybern possessed Narben, I fear we would have lost the war.”

More info for Spear of Lugh.

In a full narrative version called [A]oidhe Chloinne Tuireann (The Fate of the Children of Tuireann),[51] from copies no earlier than the 17th century,[52] Lugh demands the spear named Ar-éadbair or Areadbhair (Early Modern Irish: Aꞃéadḃaiꞃ) which belonged to Pisear, king of Persia. Areadbhair's tip had to be kept immersed in a pot of water to keep it from igniting, a property similar to the Lúin of Celtchar. This spear is also called "Slaughterer"[53] in translation.

Narben is a death "sword"

Rhys studied her blade. “Narben is a death-sword. It’s lost, possibly destroyed, but stories say it can slay even monsters like Lanthys.” (Acosf)

Also the spear of Lugh is connected with lightning.

Lugh's projectile weapon, whether a dart or missile, was envisioned to be symbolic of lightning-weapon.

Also known as the Lightning Spear, or simply Lugh’s Spear, the Gae Assail was one of the Four Treasures or Jewels of the Tuatha Dé Danann

And to me it is interesting that Ramiel means "god has thundered" maybe there is a connection?

Lugh's sling rod, named "Lugh's Chain", was the rainbow and the Milky Way, according to popular writer Charles Squire.[57] Squire adds that Lugh's spear which needed no wielding was alive and thirsted so for blood that only by steeping its head in a sleeping-draught of pounded fresh poppy leaves could it be kept at rest. When a battle was near, it was drawn out; then it roared and struggled against its thongs, fire flashed from it, and it tore through the ranks of the enemy once slipped from the leash, never tired of slaying

So thanks for reading.

I NEED A SPEAR 😭😭

#elriel #give elain a spear #narben #cc3 spoilers #hofas spoilers

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silverloreley · 1 year

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What are your headcanons on Hadie from Descendants

This is going to be a bit long because I have lots of ideas! Three versions of him, to be precise, I can't really choose which one I prefer from a narrative standpoint so I'll expose all of them.

The only thing they have in common, aside from the canon bits (Hades' son, part of the Anti-heroes club, quite laid back, and not particularly evil-inclined to begin with) and the name (Zagreus Hadeides, that's the one and the only name I have for him) is that he's not Persephone's son. No, really, I fully believe you have to forget most notions of Greek Myths when it comes to Disney. As a (former) classicist, I'd go insane if I didn't. Hades is simply too different from his myth counterpart to be the same deity and Hercules' story is too so different that it's just not the thing I grew up with and studied for years. So, forget the myths. Persephone, if she exists in the Disneyverse, still lives with her mom and was never the Queen of the Underworld (that doesn't mean she couldn't become so after D3, perhaps of her own volition. That's another story, though)

So, Hadie, nickname of Zagreus Hadeides, either is:

Mal's younger half-brother, born from a random fling Hades had with a woman who decided she wouldn't keep the baby and left it to Hades to raise.

Mal's younger brother, by just a year. When Hades left Maleficent, he took his son with him. Maleficent had no use for a son anyway.

Mal's twin brother. In this case, when Hades left, he and Maleficent agreed to keep a child each, based on which one they could raise with the least suspicion of who the other parent could be. It's pretty much canon that Mal looks enough like her mother when she was young that Maleficent called dibs.

That means, in any case, Hadie has no idea who his mother is, just like Mal had none about her father (canon, according to the first book. D3 can disappear in a vacuum with its plot holes, we never knew how Mal found out, but oh, one day I'll write a fic that explains it, just wait).

Other things about Hadie (I'm putting a read more because it got rather long indeed):

He's a demigod and that, even on the Isle, came with a few benefits. Biologically, he's stronger, healthier, and, in general, he needs less than humans do to survive. This led him to be a little more careless but also less bitter about the life he has to live as an Isle kid. Sure, he knows he should have better, he's the only heir to the Underworld (as far as he knows) and a demigod, and the living conditions on the Isle are pitiful, and yet he's not one to give in to resentment. Yes, it's a big surprise given his parentage. Hades can't decide if it's endearing or a sign of naivety, but he'd never think badly of his son for being a bit optimistic.

Also, Hades was dead set on being a better father than his own at least for one of his kids (not that it's hard, I mean, Cronus! *gestures vaguely at the myth books all around my room*) so he did all he could to give Hadie a semblance of a good life. Their house is more of a man-cave mixed up with a rockstar's room, but they like it as it is. He also taught him lots of tricks, other than their birth language and other stuff. In fact, Hades had the feeling one day or another they'll get out of the Isle and he'd subtly started teaching Hadie everything about the Underworld and its administration in hopes, should Zeus refuse to reinstate Hades himself, that Hadie could take his rightful place as the King of the Dead.

Despite so, Hades tried to be a distant father, to make everyone think he doesn't care about Hadie (and Mal) so no one could hurt them to get to him. Hadie figured that out on his own and doesn't resent him, although he wishes things were different.

Hadie has no idea Mal is his sister, of course, but the two of them always had a kinship of sorts. She never treated him bad, not even by accident, and he implicitly trusted her. Neither of them realized that until later on, once they'll find out their tie.

He's a little small for his age yet much stronger and resistant. This is due to the fact he's a demigod, hence his growth is different from that of humans (pretty much like Hercules).

If he focuses a lot, he can light fires on his fingers. Not on his hair which, colour aside, is normal and wouldn't turn into fire like his dad's.

Due to the fact he wasn't raised to fear his father, nor he was mistreated, he's pretty well-adjusted. At least, as much as he could be, between being an Isle kid and not knowing who his mother is, that is. Yeah, he has abandonment and mommy issues, who am I trying to kid? But he handles them well enough, all things considered.

He has unpredictable anger fits. No, he can't tell what triggers him, but he can reign himself in quickly enough not to go overboard. So far, he never killed or permanently injured anyone, at least.

He likes rock and metal music (no big surprise) and is part of Diego de Vil's Bad Apples, he's the drummer but can also play bass.

He grew up thinking he'd love dogs, if he ever met one (as there are none on the Isle). Once in Auradon, he figures that yes, he likes dogs, but much prefers owls and horses. This makes him bond with his uncle Poseidon and cousin Athena a tad easier. (Kerberos prefers Mal anyway)

#question answered #descendants #disney descendants

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doublebattled · 1 month

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stealing my banner from my other blog because fuck it I might as well. detailed headcanon on Isshu, ancient unovan history (nothing that could be construed as modern, literally just up to the Heroes of Truth and Ideals), and the surviving culture. All of this is written AS IS KNOWN BY MODERN DAY HISTORIANS. This is largely why I am writing it on this blog instead of Adair's; lots of names are omitted because those have been lost, it's incomplete and in places not actually wholly accurate to the slightly more detailed version of canon that would be found over on @fusionbolts. I also have a lot of links embedded to other headcanons. So lets get into it.

The Foundation of Isshu

While the vast majority of Isshu's history is forgotten to time, there are a few oral traditions and folktales that have persisted, one of which being the most foundational to their culture: the founding of Isshu and Isshurem's pact with humankind. As expected, the details of the tale are somewhat fuzzy, being literal centuries old, but the core of it remains fundamentally the same:

In the distant past, there was a time when the differences between humans and pokemon seemed impossible to bridge; they lived entirely separate from each other and fought often. At this time there lived a young boy who was born with a gift that allowed him to speak with pokémon. This boy, who walked freely between the worlds of human and pokémon, sought out the Great Dragon, arbiter of balance, to help him bring about peace between their kinds. They forged a pact, that human and pokemon kind would walk side by side forevermore.

At least, that's the general gist of it. (A longer version of it exists on one of my older blogs, if you're so inclined. Fair warning I wrote it like five years ago. Probably more.)

This foundation myth is fundamental to Isshu's spiritual beliefs and their relationship to pokémon, information which can be found here. However, Isshurem has always been core to its belief system as the nation's sort of guardian deity, with the name "Isshurem" itself literally meaning Guardian of Isshu. In the old days, leadership of the nation meant being Isshurem's partner.

The Golden Age

Very little is known in detail about the golden age of Isshu Culture as much of it was destroyed, lost to time, untranslatable until very recently, etc. Part of it is the result of Unova's very tumultuous history and the eventual fall of Isshu, and part of it is just due to the fact that it's a very, very old culture and a lot of their written history fell victim to time. BUT,

The Golden Age of Isshu was, as the name would imply, the height of their civilization, but historically speaking—virtually none of it still remains. The only structures still standing from the Golden Age are the League Building and Dragonspiral Tower. Historians who have been able to study the few remaining writings from the era have also managed to learn something about "seals", a form of ancient "technology" developed by the people of Isshu that made their quality of life quite remarkable by ancient standards. It's also what gave us Golett and Golurk! Nobody knows how, though. The Golett that exist are... all of them. Ever. The art itself has been lost, but remnants of it remain in modern Isshu art and traditional crafts.

The original written language of Isshu has also largely been lost—or so it was thought until the Abyssal ruins were uncovered and translated, allowing them to serve as a sort of Rosetta Stone for the original alphabet. The modern version still follows many of the same grammatical rules (and uses the same pronoun system!), but beyond that, there's little resemblance.

In short: little is known about Ancient Isshu, but it was believed their civilization was highly advanced for the time. They were, perhaps because of their advanced technology, or perhaps due to their distance from many other regions, an extremely isolationist culture and did not have much exchange, cultural or otherwise, with the other large civilizations at the time. That was, until...

The Fall of Isshu

Short version: colonialism happened.

The long version: Paldea, Kalos, and Galar sometimes just got done fighting a real big war and somebody (we won't name names) set off a superweapon and just decimated both armies entirely.

Wars are very expensive and this was a large problem for everybody, so with this on top of it, two of those countries came out pretty broke and the third was having its own problems with a giant space worm and some dogs. It was a bad time! The solution? INVADE SOME OTHER COUNTRIES ABOUT IT!

Again, this is a particular part of history that is not especially well-documented from the Isshu/Unova side of things. Historians know that Isshu's rather limited military force was not prepared for the attacks, which made them a pretty easy target. We also know the then-sovereign of Isshu was killed in the ensuing conflict, and the original dragon was presumably quite badly wounded, which ultimately led to Isshu's utter defeat at the hands of invading foreign forces. (It is believed that the Abyssal Ruins, dating back to that general era, are a tomb or memorial for the last King.)

This is the period in which most of Isshu culture was lost. Either it was taken by foreign forces (which is why we have Golett outside of Unova!) or destroyed utterly. For the next two centuries, much of the remnants of these people lived in the northern, mountainous regions of their country, where they could live more or less in peace. At this point, the Village of Dragons becomes the last bastion of Isshu civilization, and remains that way for... pretty much the rest of their history.

The Isshu people were not treated well during this time, as tends to happen with colonialism. I will not go into heavy detail as I think we can all fill in the gaps as to what that means, but it wasn't a great scene. (Slightly further detail on all of that and the leadup to the Unovan Revolution can be found here.)

In the meantime, the three major countries that had done that colonialism and also had done a war with each other right before... started fighting again. Shocking. It was less of a full-on war and more infrequent, but definitely regular territorial squabbles that, unfortunately, the remaining Isshu got dragged into. So you know what that means!

The Unovan Revolution / Foundation of Unova

Two brothers and a dragon do a revolution! Again, this is not an especially well documented period of history, but it is heavily mythologized thanks to it being the precursor to Reshiram and Zekrom. The short version is a couple of guys found Isshurem, who most people thought was dead, and it helped them do a revolution. (The full story is much more complicated than that, but you get the idea.)

As you can imagine, this was incredibly important. Arguably, the foundation of Unova was the only thing that allowed Isshu culture to survive in any form during the modern day. But it wasn't without its problems. As with any colonial state, people were, uh, having some complex feelings about who rightfully belonged there and who didn't, the direction of this new country, etc. etc., which would inevitably create a schism between the two brothers who started the revolution, and... Well, we know the story from there. Three dragons!

The ensuing conflict(s) and family drama would drive the then-kings to their deaths and leave the dragons stuck in rocks for a few millennium while the new Unova got to mythologize them.

There is reason to believe that while the Heroes of Truth and Ideals were both in agreement of trying to restore and preserve Isshu culture (generally accepted as being the culture they came from), their successor let it languish for unknown reasons, presumably political. (Ironically, it's pretty well known that their successor was the progenitor of the Harmonia royal line... Harmonia being an Isshu name.)

Modern Isshu Culture

As to be expected, there are still remnants of Isshu's culture and people within Unova, particularly in the northeast. While it's been through some extremely tumultuous times, even after Unova's founding, there have been some troubles with homogenization. But, nevertheless, there remains a handful of people who consider themselves Isshu and keep a few key cultural practices (copy and pasted from another headcanon, you're welcome):

1. Isshu do not (traditionally) use pokéballs. Tradition is to find and befriend a partner pokémon without catching them. Now, mind you, in the modern day and age, this isn't always practical, so some would opt to capture a pokémon after formally befriending them, particularly if their partner was especially large, dangerous, etc. However, a partner pokémon is typically kept outside of their pokéball as much as possible.

2. Isshu do not eat farm-raised meat, but wild-caught meat is acceptable. Again, practically speaking, this is somewhat difficult in the modern day: that accounts for, y'know, most meat products. Depending on where they live, many Isshu are effectively vegetarian or pescatarian. (The rules regarding animal byproduct, like in gelatin, are a little loosey goosey, but it's generally regarded as fine: ultimately, it abides by another core principle of Isshu culture, which is to respect the body of what you hunt/kill as to not let it go to waste. What isn't used should be returned to where it was found and returned to nature.)

3. Though far from a hard rule by any means, Isshu marriage tradition dictates that the couple exchange emblems of their partner pokémon when engaged, so the couple is symbolically always together. It's all very cute.

4. The major cultural holidays take place on the summer and winter solstices, with the latter being the cultural new year, much like how other cultures recognize a lunar new year. Minor holidays are on the equinoxes.

5. Again, this is far from a hard rule, but music is a very important component of Isshu culture. Many of their core mores and norms are born from concepts that are, culturally and linguistically, tied very HEAVILY to music. As such, it's extremely common for Isshu children to learn how to play an instrument.

#hit the books ★ { headcanon. }#alright here it is #it's not especially detailed but it is the tldr version #there are a lot more fuckin complicated thigns i could get into with relation to Why isshu culture got squashed by poke-europe but like #we can figure it out right.#it was far from an incredibly socially equal culture but its social heirarchy did have ppl who were traditionally oppressed in -#- poke-europe like aura users and psychics at the Top

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donttalkaboutmemes · 9 months

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Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001) Sentence Meme

Under the cut you will find 180+ sentences from Atlantis: The Lost Empire to use for your enjoyment!

1. “You fool! You’ve destroyed us all!”

2. “The wave is gaining! We have to warn Atlantis!”

3. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. First off, I’d like to thank this board for taking the time to hear my proposal.”

4. “We’ve all heard of the legend of Atlantis, a continent somewhere in the mid-Atlantic that was home to an advance civilization possessing technology far beyond our own.”

5. “Some of you may ask, why Atlantis? It’s just a myth, isn’t it? Pure fantasy?” Well, that is where you’d be wrong.”

6. “Numerous ancient cultures all over the globe agree that Atlantis possessed a power source of some kind, more powerful than steam. Than coal.”

7. “I propose that we find Atlantis, find that power source, and bring it back to the surface.”

8. “This is a page from an illuminated text that describes a book called the Shepher’s Journal, said to have been a first-hand account of Atlantis and its exact whereabouts.”

9. “Uh, would you gentlemen please excuse me for a moment?”

10. “Showtime. Well, this is it. I am finally getting out of this dungeons.”

11. “If I ever heard the word Atlantis again, I’ll step in front of a bus!”

12. “This museum funds scientific expeditions based on facts, not legends and folklore.”

13. “I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but this is a letter of resignation! If you reject my proposal, I’ll quit.”

14. “You have a lot of potential. Don’t throw it all away chasing fairy tales.”

15. “I can prove Atlantis exists!”

16. “You want to go on an expedition? Here. Take a trolley to the Potomac and jump in! Maybe the cold water will clear your head.”

17. “Who are you? How did you get in here?”

18. “I’m acting on behalf of my employer, who has a most intriguing proposition for you. Are you interested?”

19. “You will stand unless asked to be seated. Keep your sentences short and to the point. Are we clear?”

20. “Relax. He doesn’t bite. Often.”

21. “He brought that package to me years ago. He said if anything were to happen to him, I should give it to you when you were ready. Whatever that means.”

22. “This journal is the key to finding the lost continent of Atlantis!”

23. “Atlantis? Ha! I wasn’t born yesterday.”

24. “I’ve spent my whole life studying dead languages. It’s not gibberish to me.”

25. “My grandfather would have known if this were a fake. I would know. I will stake everything I own, everything that I believe in, that this is genuine.”

26. “I’ll show them! I will make them believe!”

27. “Forget the rowboat, son. We’ll travel in style.”

28. “For years your granddad bent my ear with stories about that old book. I didn’t buy it for a minute.”

29. “Your grandpa was a great man. You probably don’t realize how great.”

30. “He died a broken man. If I could bring back just one shred of proof, that’d be enough for me.”

31. “You know, in order to do what you’re proposing, you’re gonna need a crew.”

32. “All we need now is an expert in gibberish.”

33. “You can build on the foundation your grandfather left you, or you can go back to your boiler room.”

34. “Our lives are remembered by the gifts we leave our children.”

35. “Carrots. Why is there always carrots? I didn’t even eat carrots.”

36. “Excuse me? I need to…uh…report in?”

37. “Blondie, I got a bone to pick with you.”

38. “You done stuffed my wagon full to bustin’ with nonessentials. Look at all this! Cinnamon, oregano, cilantro. What in the cockadoodle is cilantro?”

39. “I got your four basic food groups! Beans, bacon, whiskey, and lard!”

40. “All right, cowboy. Pack it up and move it out.”

41. “Hey, junior. If you’re looking for the pony rides, they’re back there.”

42. “Boy, when you settle a bet, you settle a bet.”

43. “Your granddad always believed you couldn’t put a price on the pursuit of knowledge.”

44. “Make us proud, boy!”

45. “You ask too many questions. Who are you? Who sent you? Speak up!”

46. “Do not be such a crybaby. Hold still.”

47. “This is an outrage! You must leave at once!”

48. “Now what have I told you about playing nice with the other kids?”

49. “Get back! I got soap and I’m not afraid to use it!”

50. “Back, foul creature! Back to the pit from which you came!”

51. “Nice, isn’t it? The catalogue says that this little beauty can saw through a femur in 28 seconds. I’m bettin’ I can cut that time in half.”

52. “How about some slides? The first slide is a depiction of a creature. A creature so frightening that sailors were said to be driven mad by the mere sight of it.”

53. “Geez, I used to take lunch money from guys like this.”

54. “This is an illustration of the Leviathan, the creature guarding the entrance to Atlantis.”

55. “With something like that, I would have white wine.”

56. “It’s a mythical sea serpent. He’s described in the book of Job. The Bible says out of his mouth go burning lights, sparks of fire shoot out.”

57. “Do you want to do my job? Be my guest.”

58. “We took a big hit down here, and we’re taking on water fast! I don’t wanna be around when it hits the boilers!”

59. “You heard the lady! Let’s move!”

60. “He took his suitcase? Honey, I don’t think he’s coming back.”

61. “Seven hours ago we started this expedition with two hundred of the finest men and women I’ve ever known. We’re all that’s left.”

62. “I won’t sugar-coat it, gentlemen. We have a crisis on our hands.”

63. “We’ve been up this particular creek before and we’ve always come through, paddle or no paddle. I see no reason to change that policy now.”

64. “Looks like all our chances for survival rest with you. You and that little book.”

65. “Will you look at the size of this? It’s gotta be half a mile high, at least. It must have taken hundred, no, thousands of years to carve this thing.”

66. “Two for flinching.”

67. “That thing is going to keep me up all night. I know it.”

68. “There you go. Put some meat on them bones.”

69. “You’re so skinny if you turned sideways and stuck out your tongue, you’d look like a zipper.”

70. “You know, we’ve been pretty tough on the kid. What do you say we cut him some slack?”

71. “Don’t you ever close that book?”

72. “In this passage here, the shepherd seems to be leading up to something. He calls it the Heart of Atlantis. It could be the power source legends refer to.”

73. “Sometimes I get a little carried away, but hey you know, that’s what this is all about. I mean, discovery, teamwork, adventure. Unless, maybe you’re just in it for the money.”

74. “I guess I’m still a little rusty at this. I haven’t gone camping since…well…the last time my grandpa took me.”

75. “I never got to meet your grandfather. What was he like?”

76. “No offense, but how does a teenager become the chief mechanic of a multi-million dollar expedition?”

77. “I took this job when my dad retired, but the funny thing was he always wanted sons, right? One to run his machine shop and the other to be middleweight boxing champion. He got my sister and me instead.”

78. “It was like a sign from God. I found myself in that boom.”

79. “Trust me on this, you don’t wanna know. Don’t tell him. You shouldn’t have told me, but you did, and now I’m telling you, you don’t wanna know.”

80. “All right, who’s not dead? Sound off.”

81. “Who are you strangers and where did you come from?”

82. “Your manner of speech is strange to me.”

83. “Bout time someone hit him. I’m just sorry it wasn’t me.”

84. “How do they know all these languages?”

85. “Maybe English is in there somewhere.”

86. “We are explorers from the surface world. We come in peace.”

87. “Welcome to the city of Atlantis.”

88. “There were not supposed to be people down here. This changes everything.”

89. “You know the law. No outsiders may see the city and live.”

90. “Your majesty? On behalf of my crew, may I say it is an honor to be welcomed to your city.”

91. “You presume much to think you are welcome here.”

92. “I know what you seek and you will not find it here. Your journey has been in vain.”

93. “Some obstacles cannot be removed with a mere show of force.”

94. “Return to your people. You must leave Atlantis at once.”

95. “May I respectfully request that we stay one night, sir? That would give us time to rest, resupply, and be ready to travel by morning.”

96. “Your heart has softened. 1,000 years ago you would have slain them on sight.”

97. “1,000 years ago the streets were lit and our people did not have to scavenge for food at the edge of a crumbling city!”

98. “We were once a great people. Now we live in ruins. The kings of our past would week if they could see how far we have fallen.”

99. “If these outsiders can unlock the secrets of our past, perhaps we can save our future.”

100. “What they have to teach us we have already learned.”

101. “Our way of life is dying.”

102. “Our way of life is preserved. When you take the throne, you will understand.”

103. “The king and his daughter don’t exactly see eye to eye. She seems to like us okay, but the king…I don’t know. I think he’s hiding something.”

104. “If he’s hiding something, I want to know what it is.”

105. “Someone needs to talk to that girl.”

106. “I have some questions for you and I’m not leaving this city until they’re answered.”

107. “I have some questions for you and you are not leaving this city until they are answered.”

108. “There is so much to ask about your world.”

109. “You are a scholar, are you not? Judging from your diminished physique and large forehead, you are clearly suited for nothing else.”

110. “How did you get here? Well, I mean, not you personally but your culture. How did all of this end up down here?”

111. “It is said that the gods became jealous of Atlantis. They sent a great cataclysm and banished up here.”

112. “All I can remember is the sky going dark and people shouting and running. Then a bright light, like a star, floating about the city. My father said it called my mother to it.”

113. “Are you telling me that you remember because you were there. No that’s…that’s impossible.”

114. “How is it you found your way to this place?”

115. “If it weren’t for this book, we never would have made it.”

116. “Legend has it that your people possessed a power source of some kind that enable them.”

117. “You mean you can understand this? This right here, you can read this?”

118. “Such knowledge has been lost to us since the time of the flood.”

119. “Follow the narrow passage for another league. There you will find the fifth marker.”

120. “It looks like some sort of vehicle, but no matter what I try, it will not respond.”

121. “That’s an easy thing to miss. You know, you deserve credit for even getting this far.”

122. “This is great! With this thing I could see the whole city in no time at all!”

123. “My grandpa used to tell me stories about this place as far back as I can remember. I just wish he could be standing here with me.”

124. “Don’t forget to eat the head. That’s where all the nutrients are.”

125. “The most we ever hoped to find was some crumbling buildings, maybe some broken pottery. Instead we find a living, thriving society.”

126. “We are not thriving. True, our people live, but our culture is dying.”

127. “We are like a stone the ocean beats against. With each passing year, a little more of us is worn away.”

128. “I have brought you to this place to ask you for your help. There is a mural here with writing all around the pictures.”

129. “You do swim, do you not?”

130. “This is amazing! A complete history of Atlantis!”

131. “It’s the heart of Atlantis!”

132. “Don’t you get it? The power source I’ve been looking for, the bright light you remember. They’re the same thing!”

133. “What’s going on? What’s with all the guns?”

134. “I am such an idiot. This is just another treasure hunt for you.”

135. “I would’ve told you sooner, but it was strictly on a need-to-know basis. And, well, now you know.”

136. “I had to be sure you were one of us. Welcome to the club, son.”

137. “I’m no mercenary.”

138. “I prefer the term adventure capitalist.”

139. “You’re the one who got us here. You led us right to the treasure chest.”

140. “What’s to know? It’s big. It’s shiny. It’s going to make us all rich.”

141. “You think it’s some kind of a diamond. I thought it was some kind of battery. But we’re both wrong.”

142. “That crystal is the only thing keeping these people alive. You take that away and they’ll die.”

143. “Academics. You never want to get your hands dirty.”

144. “Think about it. If you gave back every stolen artifact from a museum, you’d be left with an empty building. We’re just providing a necessary service to the archeological community.”

145. “Do yourself a favor. Don’t be like him. For once, do the smart thing.”

146. “You will destroy yourselves.”

147. “I suggest you put a bandage on that bleeding heart of yours. It doesn’t suit a mercenary.”

148. “The heart of Atlantis lies in the eyes of her king.”

149. “You don’t have the slightest idea what this power is capable of.”

150. “I can think of a few countries who’d pay anything to find out.”

151. “All it says here is that the crystal is alive somehow.”

152. “Why don’t you translate and I’ll wave the gun around.”

153. “Hold your horses, lover boy.”

154. “So this is how it ends, huh? Fine. You win. You’re wiping out an entire civilization but, hey, you’ll be rich.”

155. “That’s what it’s all about, right? Money.”

156. “Get off your soapbox. You’ve read Darwin. It’s called natural selection. We’re just helping it along.”

157. “Look at it this way, son. You were the man who discovered Atlantis, and now you’re part of the exhibit.”

158. “Be serious. This is wrong and you know it.”

159. “We’re this close to our biggest payday ever and you pick now of all times to grow a conscience.”

160. “We’ve done a lot of things we’re not proud of. Robbing graves, plundering tombs, double parking. But nobody got hurt. Well, maybe somebody we got hurt, but nobody we knew.”

161. “She has been chosen. Like her mother before her.”

162. “In times of danger the crystal will choose a host. One of royal blood to protect itself and its people. It will accept no other.”

163. “The crystal thrives on the collective emotions of all who came before us. In return, it provides power, longevity, protection.”

164. “In my arrogance I sought to use it as a weapon of war, but it’s power proved too great to control. It overwhelmed us and led to our destruction.”

165. “That’s why you hid it beneath the city, to keep history from repeating itself.”

166. “If she remains bonded to the crystal, she could be lost to it forever.”

167. “The love of my daughter is all I have left.”

168. “My burden would have become hers when the time was right, but now it falls to you.”

169. “Return the crystal. Save Atlantis. Save my daughter.”

170. “I followed you in and I’ll follow you out. It’s your decision.”

171. “I think we’ve seen how effective my decisions have been.”

172. “Let’s recap. I lead a band of plundering vandals to the greatest archeological find in recorded history thus enabling the kidnap and or murder of the royal family, not to mention personally delivering the most powerful force known to man into the hands of a mercenary nutcase who’s probably going to sell it to the Kaiser! Have I left anything out?”

173. “It’s been my experience when you hit bottom, the only place left to go is up.”

174. “I didn’t say it was the smart thing, but it is the right thing.”

175. “We better make sure he doesn’t hurt himself.”

176. “This is it! We’re going to rescue the princess! We’re going to save Atlantis! Or we’re going to die trying!”

177. “I love it when I win.”

178. “We were in this together! You promised me a percentage!”

179. “I have to hand it to you. You’re a bigger pain in the neck than I would have ever thought possible.”

180. “I consider myself an even-tempered man. It takes a lot to get under my skin, but congratulations! You just won the solid-gold kewpie doll!”

181. “That’s a darn shame, because I’m just getting warmed up!”

182. “Atlantis will honor your names forever. I only wish there was more we could do for you.”

183. “You sure you want to stay? There’s a heroes welcome waiting for the man who discovered Atlantis.”

184. “I don’t think the world needs another hero.”

185. “Let’s go over it again, just so we got it straight. You didn’t find anything?”

186. “I hope this piece of proof is enough for you.”

#ask meme #rp meme #ROLEPLAYING MEME #sentence meme #disney meme #atlantis the lost empire #Atlantis

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