Mary Shelley (2018) Directed by Haifaa al-Mansour

❝  it's  so  nice  to  reconnect  with old friends after spending time apart. ❞   little lioness exuded warmth toward the noble sitting beside her. courtesies, polished so they shined as if sincere, extended to all on the surface as one would expect from a lady raised for perfection such as she - claws nowhere to be seen. truth paled in comparison to perception, and heiress knew she glowed. gracefully, she held out the plate of pastries to her companion.  ❝ would you prefer a blueberry tart or a lemon cake? ❞

 “  lemon, ” she  noted  mildly,  never  to  appear  overly  assured  by  her  matter-of-fact  choices.  though,  there  was  something  almost  poetic  to  her  soured  disposition  towards  life  mirroring  her  preferred  tastes,  not  quite  sweet.  a  stark  contrast  to  the  giddy  lady  to  meralith's  left,  quickly  declaring  ‘  blueberry  ’  to  be  her  favorite  with  a  rosy  -  cheeked  smile. “  and  you  have  many  old  friends  among  these  halls,  lady  alicent ? ” surely  those  blessed  with  golden  hair  had  forged  many  acquaintances  and  not  just  by  name  alone  but  the  gold  that  seemed  to  be  produced  by  a  single  touch  of  a  lannisster's  hand. “   it  must  keep  much  of  your  time. ” meralith's  eyes  turned  downcast,  if  only  to  hide  the  tinge  of  green  that  coloured  her  words  instead  of  the  dull  grey  from  stone  and  darkness  of  claw  isle.

one  would  think  it  was  a  crime  to  visit  the  kitchens  with  the  amount  of  eyes  that  trailed  siren.  inconspicuous  as  they  may  have  tried  to  be  ,  it  was  impossible  not  to  notice  ,  not  with  the  way  skin  prickled  ,  gooseflesh  raised  along  her  spine.  fortunately  ,  nothing  was  going  to  stop  her  from  acquiring  the  chocolate  that  was  demanded  by  the  beast  of  a  hangover  that  was  determined  to  make  itself  known.  she  may  have  left  the  festivities  early  ,  yet  that  didn’t  mean  the  fun  had  stopped  there.  something  she  was  now  suffering  for  ,  but  would  have  done  over  again  in  a  heartbeat.  sweets  in  hand  ,  a  slip  of  black  ,  silken  material  swishing  around  slippered  feet  as  elowyn  headed  for  the  doors  ,  only  before  she  could  exit  ,  another  entered.  hazel  hues  narrowed  incrementally  ,  chocolates  tucked  in  closer  against  her  chest.  “  excuse  me.  “

it  was  an  unforunate  sigil  to  be  given,  the  crimson  crab  sewn  upon  cream.  certainly  not  the  lioness  or  dragon  who  had  entered  the  kitchens,  discreet  as  her  gait  would  allow  each  silent  step  over  cobblestone  ground  until  eyes  met.  for  a  moment,  she  studied  elowyn  adorned  in  silk  that  appeared  like  liquid  ink.  utterly  fitting. “  i  won't  tell  if  you  won't. ” the  sing  -  song  like  promise  faltered  with  a  coy  smile.  though,  it  seemed  meralith  held  little  regard  for  the  secret  the  lady  kept  close  to  her  breast   and  far  greater  interest  in  her  own  desires  hidden  amongst  chalices,  pots  and  pans.  the  house  motto,  ‘  all  in  our  grasp  ’  always  did,  on  occasion,  rear  its  truth.  pale  nimble  fingers  toying  with  a  few  of  the  items  on  the  wooden  slab  table  she'd  neared. “  but  i  wouldn't  go  left, ” nodding  towards  the  very  entrance  she  had  just  slipped  from, “  prying  eyes  and  all. ” 

tension  crept  up  their  spine,  one bone at a time, circling around their shoulders. trystane didn't permit his visage to waver; the polite smile remained, enough to satisfy the ever watching eyes of court.  ❝  thank you for your concern. ❞   yet the words felt more like a thorn digging into an old wound, similar criticisms spoken by half-brother's mother now that veil of deception was useful no more, rather than a shield of concern. doubt lingered, reading the other having grown difficult with mistrust clouding their vision, but protective instincts won out.  ❝  though it's unnecessary. i've smiled plenty this evening. ❞

 “  certainly  for  the  right  people,  we  can  only  hope. ” elras  stilled,  swallowing  back  the  very  uncertainty  that  came  with  this  quill-penned  list  of  people  who  favored  the  eldest.  he'd  been  assured,  under  the  blanket  of  blossoming  gardens  and  melodic  songs  of  winged  creatures,  many  who  spoke  blessings  of  trystane  did  so  with  prayers  for  elras  on  their  lips.  but,  did  such  a  thing  continue?  it  certainly  was  a  tantalizing  thought,  an  inquiry  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue  with  a  sharp  inhale  that  only  served  as  a  retorted, “  for  the  sake  of  our  sister. ” he  said  nothing  further,  but  perhaps  an  olive  branch  extended  for  something  shared.  the  younger  glanced  to  trystane,  momentarily  auspicious  that  he  might  grasp  onto  it,  an  expression  as  fleeting  as  the  enchanting  nature  of  illuminated  butterflies,  so  quick  to  turn  the  eyes  of  the  court  downcast. “  entertaining  a  dragon. ” 

Lucrezia Borgia and Giulia Farnese | 1.02 "The Assassin" THE BORGIAS (2011–2013)

their  avoidance  had  been  concealed  under the cloak of duty, but familial reunion had been an inevitability the moment the ravens were sent out. while shoulders tensed subtly, the rose expression remained composed, lips upturned slightly - no whispers of wilt amongst the garden would be started by him.  ❝  brother. ❞   syllables were spoken cordially, but lacked the warmth that'd once filled them; the chasm between them remained too wide, and trystane knew himself still too cowardly to attempt building a bridge.

it  was  deceptive,  the  very  same  way  the  sun's  warmth  dwindled  to  nothing  in  the presence of a  cold  chill  swept  from  the  north,  this  garnered  appearance  suited  only  for  prying  ears  and  eyes. and  what  came  of  this  absence  between  brothers  but  the  sensation  of  a  sharp  thorn  pulling  a  bead  of  blood  to  a  finger's  tip. unnecessary. yet  favored,  turning  to  stand  adjacent  without the  formalities  a  greeting  would  carry. “ i would be careful, ” he noted with the semblance of a pearlescent gleam reserved only for the likes of his reflection. “ your face tends to savor the appearance of one too many soured lemon cakes. ” 

𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋   .   .   .   𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀   𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆  @crimsonsbled, @steelfyre, @eclipt1cs, @unscng, @heavnle, @traegedys

the  very  fate  of  westeros  bounced  and  babbled  on  the  arm  of  a  cousin.  to  be  distanced  by  the  bloodline  she  bore  was  a  bitter  taste  savored  on  the  tongue,  but  it  wore  well,  as  the  whispers  of  the  queen's  madness  had.  violaceous  eyes  looked  to  the  babe,  a  far  more  difficult  reality  to  choke  down. “ do  keep  such  precious  things  close, ” meralith  offered  at  the  upturn  of  her  lip  corners  like  a  puppeteer  pulling  at  the  strings  so  preciosly  perhaps  the  disingeuine  nature  of  the  act  could  have  come  across  as  concerning  had  it  been  known. “ or  so  i  have  been  told. ” 

LOS BORGIA (2006) dir. Antonio Hernández

Midsummer Nights Dream, New York City Ballet Production

Molly McCully Brown, from Places I’ve Taken my Body: Essays

PRIDE AND PREJUDICE (2005) dir. Joe Wright

— Aeschylus, Agamemnon, trans. by Robert Fagles, 1049-1050.