Eden Carminati

25 || Princess of Monaco

[edenofmonaco]

sarikavari‌:

Her words caused Sarika to slow her movements as she brought a hand up to take another bite of her food. She chewed thoughtfully, not really sure how to answer to the girl’s comment, before she looked up at her with a small smile. She could see the curiosity starting to win over but the concern on the girl’s face seemed to be shining through as well. “We all have our enemies, right? I think I just happen to have a few more than most of the others. I appreciate the concern though.” Vague, not too accusing, it was the best way to go here especially considering the fact that she couldn’t even list all the names against her just yet. Sarika couldn’t tell who exactly would turn their noses up at her since she’d been surprised at a few of the ones that had already. She’d lost some really good friends lately and it seemed most of the ones who objected to her situation were avoiding her anyway, which was just fine with her.

“I’m Sarika, by the way. It’s really nice to meet someone who seems to care.” Of course, she’d been burned by that before as well, people who pretended they cared about her and then turned on her in a split second. She knew she had to be cautious here but it was such a rare thing these days that she couldn’t help but latch on to anyone with a kind word. “I mean…you’re not going through that, are you?”

Eden tried not to purse her lips at the mention of enemies. She of course understood why she and her siblings and all the other heirs were here in this place, but she so despised the grim state of the world beyond the palace walls that she much preferred to sequester her nagging, back-of-your-mind fears to, well, the back of her mind. What good would it do to dwell on things she arguably had no control over? Even her eldest brother Tristan, crown prince as he was, couldn’t do much of anything to remedy the tensions of the world. Not from this palace, at least.

Instead, Eden allowed the girl’s introduction to brighten her spirits, the feeling of a genuine smile spreading across her cheeks a welcome one. 

“Sarika.” she repeated. “That’s a pretty name. Mine’s Eden. And if it helps...I’m sure I’m not the only one here who cares.” said the princess, punctuating her words with a sip from her water glass. At Sarika’s question, Eden set the glass down, quickly shaking her head. “Thankfully, no. And even if I was, I’m lucky.” she said, crossing her arms on the table as she decided she was full. “My older brother Tristan is here too...aaand he’d have choice words for anyone who decided they had beef with me.” Her smile softened as she reminded herself of how protective Tristan could be. “What about you? Are you here by yourself?”

[edenofmonaco]

sarikavari‌:

Sarika hadn’t been expecting that response. No, she would have sooner guessed something a little more sharp was heading her way after the tone she had thrown in the girl’s direction. Looking up, her eyes even wider, she allows a smile on her face and the surprise from the response to only be shown by her raised eyebrows. She could tell the girl was nervous and whether it was because she just wasn’t great in social situations or because of Sarika’s reputation was unsure but she hoped the nod of encouragement was enough to reassure her. “I get that a lot actually. But it’s always appreciated when the compliment is given.” 

Sarika’s tone of voice was definitely a lot friendlier as she said this, the Hungarian relaxing a little before starting on her plate again. But she wasn’t about to let the new opportunity for a friend to escape her and she continued on with that same friendliness. “I apologize for my rudeness before. I just assumed…something else and now I feel like an idiot.”

The shift in the other girl’s demeanour helped Eden’s nerves to settle and dissipate. Tension released from her shoulders and a smile crept onto her face at her response, genuine and warm. She gave a dismissive shake of her head as another bite of food made its way to her mouth, far more comfortably than the one before.

“Don’t mention it.” Eden began. “This place, this...situation...seems to have alot of us putting defenses. I really can’t blame you.” she said. But the more she thought about the girl’s initial reaction, the more curious she became. And of course there was the spark of concern igniting. Such was Eden’s nature. Her expression shifted to reflect her curiosity as she continued.

“Speaking of defenses...I hope there’s nobody here you particularly feel the need to...defend against.” Eden said, though it really was more of a question. One she hoped wasn’t too bold, given that they’d only just met.

[edenofmonaco]

sarikavari‌:

The very idea of coming to a castle full of other Royals who were cooped up with nothing to do but gossip to their hearts content had given Sarika enough motivation to keep her guard up more than usual. The girl had gotten good at ignoring the whispers and dirty looks but she felt that it would all only increase now that her peers consisted of people who would never understand her choices. She was alone, had been since she’d arrived, but if she were honest she kind of preferred it that way. If people were going to judge her without even knowing the reasoning for her drastic decisions she didn’t want them in her life in the first place.

She felt their eyes on her as soon as she had sat down in the dining area for a late lunch. Usually she tried to arrive late to meals to avoid the others but today it seemed she was out of luck. Not a word left her lips as her meal was placed in front of her, the girl making it five minutes in before the feeling of those eyes boring into her caused her to finally break her silence and look up at the person sat on the other side of the table. “Am I just so adorable that you can’t stop gawking at me for two seconds or can we continue on with our meal without me needing to shower all of this heed off once I leave?”

Eden definitely hadn’t met the girl seated across the table from her before. Which, to be honest, was just making it harder for her to concentrate on the plate of food in front of her. Everytime her gaze wandered up to the girl’s face she gave herself a mental smack, dropped her eyes back down to the half-eaten cluster of roasted vegetables, and prayed she wouldn’t notice. But Eden Carminati never got away with things that easily.

The girl spoke, and Eden immediately froze in her seat. She felt colour rushing into her cheeks as she scrambled to piece together a coherent—and hopefully acceptable—response to being called-out. 

“I, uh...sorry...it’s just...” Not a good start. Classic. “You...you’ve got really pretty eyes.”

Well...at least it was honest.

[edenofmonaco]

Part One || Eden’s Playlist

1. || Claire de Lune - Debussy

2. || Prélude - Bach

3. || Sonata In E Minor (Tempo di Menuetto) - Mozart

4. || Médetation - Massenet

Part Two || Eden Inspo

1. || Two - Sleeping At Last

2. || Wildflowers - The Wailin’ Jennys

3. || Where Does the Time Go - A Great Big World

4. || You Matter To Me - Sara Bareilles ft. Jason Mraz

[rpaskmemesx]

send me a ☾ and i’ll give you a song that matches my character’s aesthetic!

[rongruixiali]

Sunkissed

[edenofmonaco]

elios-carminati·:

“I’m not pale,” Elios defended himself, features scrunching up into disdain at Eden’s comment. “I’m perfectly tanned, or well at least almost tanned. Do you know how long it’s been since I last sailed?” He tried to save himself, because of course the times that his health didn’t allow him to go out and enjoy the sea were numerous. If he couldn’t go out to enjoy the blue sea then, what was the point of going out into the sun anyways?

“Anyways, not pale.” He grunted a little, getting impatient when Eden had announced that they had arrived at their destination.

Eyes squinted at the green house in front of them. ‘No, no, no, no!’ The raven mused internally.

“A… Green house?” No matter how much he disliked the idea of it, he wasn’t going to verbalize his dislike to Eden’s face of course. “You do know that it can be unbearably hot inside those things right?” He tried to talk her out of it even when he knew talking the younger out of gardening was futile.

Talking Eden out of gardening was very well like asking the sun to rise in the west rather than, east.

The unpleasant screech of the door when opened made Elios wince. “Sounds like this place has been abandoned for god knows how long.” He told her, looking around the area and seeing that his words were right. Many of the plants were wilted, the area was messy and a bit very dirty, and Elios could already feel himself suffocate in the place.

“Is this really where you wanna hang out with me?” He inquired the younger, already planning on which decent and clean chair he can find in this greenhouse.

Eden couldn’t help but roll her eyes in playful amusement at her brother’s indignations, whenever they arose. The brief reminiscence which accompanied them this time—the mention of sailing, of home—tugged at her heart as they passed his lips; she, too, missed feeling the sea breezes through her hair and upon her skin. Eden missed alot of things, a feeling of normalcy being chief among them. Now, after everything she’d endured as a rebel captive, she needed to cling to anything that remotely resembled it with all the determination she could muster. This greenhouse was to be the primary target of said clinging.

She could almost feel Elios’ dismay as they entered the structure, and sure enough, his words confirmed her instincts. The princess chuckled in response. “Yes, Elios. Greenhouses are hot.” she repeated matter-of-factly, smirking all the while. “That’s the whole point...when it comes time to actually grow the plants. There’s alot to be done in here before that happens.” Eden knew it was entirely possible that he’d rather be sitting in his room with his nose in one of those Japanese comic books he loved so much (she could never remember the proper name for them), but one thing was true about both of her brothers: Eden had them wrapped around her finger.

The princess slipped a small bag off of her shoulder, setting it down on one of the old wrought-iron tables scattered about the space. Out of it she drew a surgical mask, which she promptly tossed to Elios. “A very kind, British doctor said I could have this. We don’t need those lungs of yours getting any more clogged-up than they do on their own.” she said, tossing her brother a knowing look as she pulled two brooms out from behind a dilapidated shelving unit. “I made sure to crack the windows before dragging you out here.” she said, pointing upwards to the glass panes tilted outwards to allow cool air inside. “So if you have any more complaints to bring to my attention, you may do so...” she tossed him one of the brooms, wearing a cheeky grin. “...while you sweep.”

[missdaisydaily]

🌈🌈 Daisy dancing to ‘It’s Raining Men'🌈🌈

[edenofmonaco]

vidar-rasmussen·:

@edenofmonaco

Stranger things had happened…but the night of All Hallows Eve certainly was one of the top contenders for the Danish prince who fumbled down the hallway towards the exit in a daze. His once fitted attire for the evening was askew, untucked and unbuttoned with his dark hair a dangling mess in front of his face, which only helped to further perpetuate his clearly disheveled appearance. As if the man had just walked out of the woods.. which he had incidentally. Though the cherry on top of that evening truly had been being stuck there with Emilia and after some rather odd interaction with the English princess and a run-in with another mysterious stranger at five in the morning, Vidar wanted nothing more than to find his bed and make sure his sister was okay…not exactly in that order.

Which is why Vidar was now backtracking to the gardens where he heard someone had seen his twin sister. After what had happened before, back on that island, he knew he couldn’t forgive himself if the rebellion forces got their hands on anyone he cared about again. Shivering as exhaustion began to creep up on him, Vidar trudged out into the gardens as daybreak fell upon the small Russian town. Only to find himself starting to hallucinate things as the minutes passed with no sign of Rebekah, even amongst the rather obscure locations he peaked his head into until…”Bekah?” The Danish prince called out at the figure huddled up in the corner of a shed. His light gaze narrowed slightly, attempting to adjust to the darkness the woman in a gown had found shelter in. “Bekah er du okay? Jeg har ikke været i stand til …” Vidar began to babble off in Danish only to finally come to the realization that whoever this was, it certainly wasn’t his twin sister. Which only left the Dane to simply stare at the woman on the ground, his lanky frame leaning against the shed doorway in an effort to keep the exhaustion from collapsing his body onto the cold, hard ground. 

Eden Luck. That’s what her grandmother would have called it. She’d been inside the palace for a solid ninety percent of the night, enjoying the sounds, the food, the mingling, perfectly content to allow the ball—which was really just one big lavish distraction from everything swirling around in her brain—to do exactly that. Lo and behold, she hadn’t been outside of the ball ten minutes, gazing wistfully out towards the twinkling lights of the village, when those same lights suddenly twinkled out. To any un-traumatized person, it would have looked like nothing more than a perfectly logical blip in the power grid, courtesy of the temperature. But having been previously kidnapped by rebels, dragged away from home and held captive in an objecitvely awful place for six months, Eden had immediately felt the colour drain from her face and her pulse begin to quicken. Then came the buzz of electronic locks, and upon dashing back to the doors she’d come out of, Eden found them locked tight. As was every other door and window around the courtyard, and not another soul was in sight. Thus, Eden had discovered what it’s like to endure a panic attack when you’re by yourself, outside in the freezing cold, thinking that rebels are coming back for revenge, and wondering, therefore, if it’s possible that you may in fact die. 

Fast forward an hour or two later (maybe three? time had lost meaning), and Eden was cowering in the dusty corner of a garden shed, legs tucked into an empty canvas sack for an ounce of warmth. The initial panic had dulled, but cold and exhaustion were definitely taking a toll. So when her ears detected the muffled sound of what she thought was a voice, she couldn’t be sure she wasn’t hallucinating. Then, just as she felt a fresh surge of fear that a voice could mean some rebel had found her, a tall, dark figure appeared in the doorway. Naturally, she shrieked, bracing her icy arms against anything within reach. But as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she realized the person looked familiar. Very familiar. Confusion tossed itself into her maelstrom of emotions as she blinked up at him, wide-eyed.

“M-Mikkel...?” Eden croaked, voice weak and scratchy. “Am I...dead?” Sure, this particular blast from the past wasn’t who she’d expect to be greeted by at the pearly gates, but maybe grand-mère was otherwise indisposed? But wait. Why would Mikkel be in heaven? Last time—the only time—she’d seen him he was very much alive.

“...Are you dead?” another pause. “...Are we dead?”

[edenofmonaco]

sabrinaellis·:

“It’s surely a different air around here,” she agreed, as though such air wasn’t just as apt at freezing their lungs if one breathed in too deeply. She smiled again, albeit this time it seemed more genuine, her own eyes curiously examining the other’s costume. It was lovely, about as lovely as the one Princess wearing it, and her heart seemed to find the purest of joys among beautiful things. “Are you not feeling comfortable, your grace?” she wondered, even if there was nothing she could technically do about the weather, yet.

Her cheeks flushed at the unexpected compliment, however, and she glanced down bashfully at the skirt of her dress, giving a minute shake of her head. “Thank you! I wish, however, I only had a hand in some of the accessories.” A detail, here and there, at most. As much as she appreciated both embroidering or sewing, she was nowhere near the level of constructing her own garments. “Your look is fantastic, however. It really suits you.” It did, with the Princess’ delicate features, and the obviously painstakingly selected items that completed the costume itself – there was always that different air when it came to garments worn by anyone of a higher status. Those that cared, at least.

“Have you been enjoying the party so far? My only regret is that I neglected to bring about earplugs – and a heated blanket.” Her nose crinkled slightly as she attempted to joke, poorly, because fashion most of the time didn’t listen to comfort.

Your grace. Eden hadn’t been addressed in such a manner in a long while. Long enough to lend it a strangely foreign sound. Her gaze turned to the other girl, subtly narrowed in curiosity. She certainly seemed like royalty; poised, gracious, gorgeous. But it was clear by the way she spoke that she wasn’t. “It’s not so bad. There are far less comfortable situations to be in, believe me.” Eden replied, smirking at the girl’s concern towards her. The expression was more of a defense mechanism against the sudden, dim flash of unpleasant memories of her captivity than a true sign of amusement. But Eden wasn’t yet ready to face those memories, or their lingering impact. Maybe she never would be.

Eden was grateful to be pulled back to reality with the exchange of compliments, an authentic grin illuminating her features as she looked down at her own costume. “Thank you. I’ve been losing flowers all evening though...” she fiddled with the petals of a fake blossom that she was fairly certain used to have several more neighbours than it currently did. “I’ve probably been leaving a trail. An accurate demonstration of my awful sewing skills.” she chuckled, lifting her eyes once again to her companion. “Yours are clearly better, even if you did only make some of those accessories. I'm tracking you down next time I need to get crafty.” 

Eden pursed her lips at the mention of the party happening on the other side of the doors behind them. She’d been to so many of such events in her lifetime that it had become difficult to measure the quality of one against the other. Still, the girl’s joking made her chuckle, even as she drew her shawl tighter around her shoulders and shrugged. “It’s alright. The food’s great. It just...it feels weird in there. Like everyone’s trying to forget something, you know?”

[edenofmonaco]

sabrinaellis·:

Sabrina had largely failed to take into account the dimension of her accessories as she had put them all together for her so-called costume. Her wingspan, of course, was broader than she had anticipated would fall between both polite size, and one fit to go through doorways and throngs of people without jostling anyone too badly. It was mortifying, too, the lengths to which her subconscious had turned to in order to gain her some attention, though she had spent most of the evening so far apologizing.

It was also one of the bigger reasons why she’d sought the outdoors, caring fairly little for the chill outside, yet preferring to stay as far away from the multitude as possible. With her dire luck as of late, she’d walk straight into someone influential such as the Crown Prince of Turkey, and start another type of international conflict. She shivered, holding the mug with hot cider in both hands, then remembered to smile as she noticed the other person seeking the solace of the night. “Beautiful evening, is it not?” she said, by way of greeting. her gaze drifting back towards the sky, giving the other the chance to exit the conversation as gracefully as possible.

God, the cider was good. Eden couldn’t help but subtly narrow her eyes in suspicion of the fact as she took her first sip, however. After her glass or two of champagne she’d decided she ought to go for something less indulgent next. She figured cider would be pretty tame, but something had to make it as good as it was. The mug had been practically shoved into her hands by a uniformed waiter standing by the doors to the gardens, as if to say ‘Take this. You’ll need it out there.’, and having experienced for herself the harsh bite of the Siberian wind, she wasn’t about to deny the offer. Of course, she’d taken her own precautions, in the form of a cashmere shawl draped over her shoulders.

At first it didn’t seem like anyone else had deigned to brave the cold, even for a few moments of quiet. That was, until she spotted the billowing sweep of pale fabric and the glint of wings under the starlight. The stranger’s costume only grew more impressive as Eden drew near, though she tried not to stare as she stepped up beside her (leaving her a wide enough berth for the wings, of course.)

“One of the nicer ones, for sure.” Eden replied when the young woman spoke up, noting the soft quality and distinctive accent that coloured her voice. “Cold as ever, of course, but at least we can see how pretty the stars are.” she mused, momentarily tilting her head up towards them like the girl beside her. “Speaking of pretty, that costume is ah-mazing. Did you make it yourself?”>

[edenofmonaco]

Princess Eden Carminati of Monaco as A Flapper

[edenofmonaco]

samsonmorales·:

@edenofmonaco

Samson spent far more time in the library than he would have liked. He loved the environment, the smell of the books, but he would much rather spend his free time watching documentaries. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Not enough free time. So he was there, as he usually was, pulling books from the shelves for different lessons. But one book just wasn’t where it was supposed to be. With a frown, he began his search again finally spotting the book in question in the hands of a woman. “Excuse me.” he began. “Will you be long with that book?” Sam asked with a smile.

Eden would be the last person to call herself ‘bookish’. So why was it that she found herself curled up on an old—but very comfortable—chair with her nose buried in a book? Well, it hadn’t exactly been the plan. She’d been drawn into the library only upon spotting an ill-placed plant as she passed by the open doorway. A plant which she knew needed far more sun than it was getting where it sat. She’d bee-lined into the space and promptly re-located the partially wilted flower by a tall eastern window, and it was upon placing the vase on a small table that she’d spotted the book in question. Small, clearly old, and embellished with a delicate gold filligree around its edges that caught the afternoon sunlight.

The Wars of the Roses

Now, Eden was about as fond of war as the next former rebel captive, but the presence of flowers in the title drew her in. By the time it became clear that the volume had nothing at all to do with actual roses, she was already very comfortable, and somehow also very engaged in its contents. It was only when an unfamiliar voice snapped her out of her reading trance that she realized a few hours must have passed. Hazel eyes snapped up from the book to a face she’d never seen before...one she certainly would have remembered if she had.

“Wow...” she whispered, immediately realizing the word was never meant to leave her brain. She sat up awkwardly as she grasped at any remaining composure she had. “—Uh, I mean...feel free to, you know.” To what, Eden? “...It’s all yours. I’ve been hogging it long enough...besides, I think my foot’s fallen asleep sitting here all afternoon...”

[rongruixiali]

Sunkissed

[edenofmonaco]

elios-carminati·:

@edenofmonaco

                               It didn’t take a genius to figure out how much Elios hated being outside. The chances of him getting sweaty and smelly were too high. Although, they were in Russia now and the climate was ever so cold, the raven still did not appreciate the dirt of the garden Eden had pulled him along to.

But alas, caving in to your younger’s sibling every request was always a weakness for Elios. Will he ever break away from it? Who knows? Not Elios of course.

“Does anything even bloom in this weather?” Elios sighed, still tailing behind Eden. He bought a book with him obviously; there was no way he was going to put his hands on the dirt… Then again, he did change to dark clothes that’ll make stains unnoticeable and had gloves in his pockets just in case.

‘You never know when you can be tricked into gardening.’ He mused internally, remembering the times that he wore his best shirts and slacks only for it to be ruined by gardening.

“Are we there yet?” 

In her time at the castle thus far, Eden had come to realize that for all the inconveniences of having been whisked away to the frozen Russian countryside, there was one very loud, very glaring benefit: bonding time, with whomever it was you felt your subconscious nagging you about spending more time with. For the princess, that person was her brother Elios. 

She was well aware of his habits, his apparent hatred of not only the sun, but the outdoor world beneath it, and while he might be able to get away with dodging the sun in this place—castle walls aside, the overcast skies did a marvelous job of shrouding it—she wasn’t about to let him deprive himself of fresh air. 

Eden smirked to herself as she led the older Carminati along, her steps as lively as always, floral-embroidered skirt swishing around her knees as she walked.

“My sincere hope, dear impatient brother...” she began in response. “... is that you will bloom. I didn’t think it was possible for you to look any paler, but here we are.”

And, as she led him around a cluster of tall bushes...

“Speak of the devil. Here we are.” Eden declared, repeating her words while pointing to the thing that changed their context. A greenhouse. Pushing open the rusty door, which creaked rather unpleasantly, she met her brother’s eyes with a smug grin on her face.

“Outside without being outside. How’s this for a compromise?”

[edenofmonaco]

marisol-de--cordova‌:

Despite her pale appearance, that was only possible due to her genetics, Marisol had been used to a warmer climate. Her mornings consisted of being greeted by the sun as she had breakfast in bed, followed by a drink of vodka, a long bath, a four course lunch all wrapped up with a smoke as she strolled through her fragrant gardens that was home to both local and imported flowers and fruit. 

Her name in itself had to do with the sun so living in a country that was dowdy at best with heavy looming fixtures of clouds, frigid temperatures and ugh- don’t get her started on the food- had put a damper on her mood. 

Thank God for the eye candy otherwise she would’ve been throwing more tantrums than usual. Something her lady in waiting had dreaded since their arrival since Marisol was never discrete when she was displeased. She’d approached the Princess of Monaco, unlit cigarette in hand, her gaze following the brunette’s out of sheer curiousity. “Tell me about it. They’re taking the meaning of quitting cold turkey to a whole new level.”

There’d been a rule of not smoking in the palace- she’d read of it somewhere. But with no balcony of her own and the temperature proving to be a deterrent there was a great possibility that she would soon be breaking said rule.

Hazel eyes widened at the sound of a voice, then turned just as swiftly to the fiery-haired woman now beside her. In the same instant, Eden realized she’d been voicing her thoughts aloud; something she’d always made a habit of, even if she didn’t mean to. Despite her chagrin, one corner of her mouth lifted into a smirk at her companion’s words.

“And that’s going...” her gaze flitted down to the telling object in the woman’s hand. “...not awesome, I’m guessing?”

Eden could hardly blame anyone for keeping up their not-so-great habits in this place. It was cold, remote, and if a person wasn’t A) at the beck and call of royalty (which surely wasn’t always pleasant), then they were B) royalty themselves. Under the current circumstances, being royal meant that you’d been dragged far from home, and presumably aginst your will. So, again. Not great. Royalty or not, the woman’s boldness in even considering lighting up in the hallways struck Eden as more impressive than foolish in her current mood. And the more she considered that detail, the more it was a dead give-away. 

“I’m also guessing that, since you seem to be seriously contemplating lighting that thing, you’re not staff.” After all, given the rules of the palace, that’d surely be a one-way ticket to getting sacked. “And, for reasons I won’t bore you with, I’ve become fairly good at guessing which country someone’s heir to. In your case...” Eden’s eyes narrowed playfully. “...Spain, right?”

Of course, accents were very helpful. Perhaps unfairly so...

[edenofmonaco]

sophwtf‌:

Sophie had received plenty of odd letters and requests throughout her years in the castle. She knew she wasn’t alone either. Her brothers had plenty of obsessed fans, ready to pay and give anything to feel like the royals had noticed them. But she also knew the pictures in question were a little out there. Still. She’s not one to judge. All of Canada, if not all of the world labeled the princess as some loner weirdo. She was in no place to resent anyone else.

“Shocking, I know. I had no idea feet could be attractive … or that a large population consider my feet to be more attractive than other princesses.” She shrugged, still not able to stop the smile from hurting her cheeks. “Anyway I’ve never sent any. Despite my curiosity, I’m told it’s very unladylike.”

Eden snorted at the word. Ladylike. It seemed as though everyone who wasn’t royalty themselves still believed that princesses should have to be that. Eden's own quirks and non-conformities—if they could even be called that—were subtle at best, but she’d always admired those of her peers who were unafraid to be their authentic selves in the face of constant and harsh scrutiny. She hadn’t known Sophie long, but her impression was certainly that she was one such princess.

“If only they knew what princesses get up to when they know there aren’t eyes on them.” Eden mused, taking a sip from her glass of lemonade. “Sending photos of body parts is probably the least unladylike thing our fellow tiara-heads do.” After a moment, Eden’s eyes sparked with a hint of mischief. “Come to think of it, though, if that’s really the sort of thing they’re worried about, you could always keep it as a back-pocket tactic, so to speak.” Another sip of lemonade. “You know, in case you need to misdirect attention from something you’d really rather not see the light of day.”

[ohmyaranea]

Send in a ❣ for a random kiss.

a shy kiss. 

a forehead kiss.

a cheek kiss.

a nuzzle kiss.

a neck kiss.

a hand kiss. 

a hug + kiss combo. 

a dying kiss. 

a bleeding / bloody kiss. 

an assertive kiss. 

a nonchalant / uninterested kiss. 

a kiss to your muse’s shoes. 

a blown kiss. 

a sad / crying kiss. 

a quick kiss. 

a happy kiss.

a teasing / sensual kiss. 

a platonic kiss. 

a clumsy kiss

a kiss of your choosing! ( requested by the sender! )

[musingmeme-blog]

anastasia (1997) lyric starters .   always feel free to change pronouns  /   wording !

A RUMOR IN ST. PETERSBURG. ❛  my underwear got frozen standing here all week  !    ❜ ❛  thank goodness for the gossip that gets us through the day  !  ❜  ❛  have you heard what they’re saying on the street  ?  ❜ ❛   it’s a rumor  ,   a legend  ,  a mystery  …    ❜ ❛   it could be worth a fortune  !    ❜ ❛   you and i  ,  friend  ,  will go down in history  !    ❜ ❛   who else could pull it off but you and me  ?  ❜ ❛  we’ll be rich  !  ❜ ❛   who knows  ?  ❜ JOURNEY TO THE PAST. ❛   don’t turn back now that we’re here  .  ❜ ❛   life is full of choices  .  ❜ ❛   somewhere down this road  ,  i know someone’s waiting  .    ❜ ❛   i must’ve had them  ,  too  !    ❜ ❛   i will never be complete until i find you  !    ❜ ❛   one step at a time  .  ❜ ❛   who knows where this road may go  !  ❜ ❛   bring me home at last !  ❜ ONCE UPON A DECEMBER. ❛   dancing bears  ,  painted wings  .  ❜ ❛   someone holds me safe and warm  .  ❜ ❛   far away  , long ago  .    ❜ ❛   horses prance through a silver storm  !    ❜ IN THE DARK OF THE NIGHT. ❛   i was tossing and turning  .  ❜ ❛   the nightmare i had was as bad as can be  .  ❜ ❛   it scared me out of my wits  !    ❜ ❛   revenge will be sweet  .    ❜  ❛   i can feel that my powers are slowly returning  !  ❜ ❛   terror’s the least i can do  !    ❜ ❛   soon she will feel that her nightmares are real  !    ❜ ❛   evil will find her  .  ❜ ❛   it’s the end of the line  !    ❜ ❛   she’ll be mine  !    ❜ LEARN TO DO IT. ❛    you were born in a palace by the sea   .  ❜ ❛   could it be  ?  ❜ ❛   we’ve lots and lots to teach you  !    ❜ ❛   shoulders back and stand up tall  .    ❜  ❛   i feel a little foolish  .  .  .  ❜ ❛   what happens now  ?    ❜ ❛   if i can learn to do it  ,  you can learn to do it  .    ❜ ❛   there’s nothing to it  !  ❜ ❛   i never cared for stroganoff  !    ❜ ❛   dessert and then goodnight  ?    ❜ ❛   pull yourself together  !  ❜ ❛   suddenly  ,  i feel like someone new  !    ❜ ❛   you’re a dream come true  !    ❜ LEARN TO DO IT ( REPRISE ). ❛   i see it at a glance   .  ❜ ❛   she’s radiant and confident  .  ❜ ❛   i taught her well  .    ❜ ❛   how could you do this  ?    ❜  ❛   how will we get through this  ?  ❜ ❛   i never should have let them dance  !    ❜ PARIS HOLDS THE KEY. ❛   forget where you’re from   .  ❜ ❛   there’s love in the air  !  ❜ ❛   i’ve found you at last  .    ❜ ❛   you’ll be gone , that’s the end  .    ❜  ❛   you’ll be très jolie and so smart  !  ❜ ❛   come dance through the night  !    ❜ ❛   paris holds the key to her heart  !    ❜ ❛   ooh la la  !  ❜